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bountycancelled · 8 months

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OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

#opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action #x reader #reader insert #roronoa zoro #zoro live action #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

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cozymaples · 5 months

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(tags under the cut !)

ryan, who makes sure to bump into any guy who happens to hold their gaze on you for too long as you’re walking past. ryan who glances back at them with a smug grin, making sure they know it wasn’t an accident. ryan who didn’t need to bump into them that hard, but nearly knocked them off their feet.

ryan who has his mouth latched to your pussy, pulling you closer to him each time you try to writhe away from the overstimulation. his arms are hooked under your legs, holding you by the top of your thighs. he takes a moment to part from your aching clit, puffy and swollen, to revisit the situation. “looking at my fuckin’ girl,” he tsks. “what a world we live in! i mean,” he laughs with disbelief, “i should’ve knocked his fuckin’ head off his shoulders, baby-i’m serious.” it’s almost sadist, but he knows how bad you get off on it-pussy dripping every time he defends you. you’re panting above him, looking down as your head cranes gently forward. “i..” you respond through a whine, but you can’t manage anything else. your flesh is warm, hot all over with a thin layer of sweat. stray hairs stick to your face, your cheeks flushed from the amount of times you’ve orgasmed.

“my pretty baby. can’t talk, s’alright. s’right where i want you, hon.” he says, palms tapping your thighs with encouragement. “don’t think i forgot why we’re here,” he says, and you gasp as he slides two thick fingers inside of you, curving to brush up against your g-spot. “next time anyone looks at you, they’re only gonna see how fuckin’ good i made you feel. and only me.” a satisfactory hum leaves you, dizzy with lust as he tugs you towards him once more. kneeling at the foot of your bed, his cock strains in his jeans, knowing it’s true-that you’re all his. “look at me.” he instructs, and you oblige, looking down once more. “one more,” he says, inches from your pussy, “then you’re done.”

tags : @dat-crazy-fangirl , @barbie-munson , @citrinedream , @sweatycashranchmuffin , @sunlightaste , @miwagila , @wilwaren , @manheimdaily , @ludhayyy , @cb-02

#ryan thanksgiving #ryan thanksgiving x reader #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim x reader smut #milo manheim oneshot #milo manheim one shot #milo manheim smut #ryan thanksgiving smut #maple writes ryan!#milo manheim thanksgiving #thanksgiving movie

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stuccobaby · 10 months

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kahlopatra headcanons? 🙏

bestieeee

these are gonna be random a f

(college au/i aged em up)

Cleopatra runs cold, Frida runs hot. It's perfect.

yes, they both have their tickets for the Barbie movie. Cleopatra has her outfit planned out (pink pink pink everything) and Frida is very excited to be Cleo's Ken.

Frida thought she had a high tolerance for spicy food but Cleopatra is in a different league. Like she could go on Hot Ones and not even flinch.

but Cleo haaaates Tajin. Frida loves it. She puts it on fruit and Cleo couldn't believe her eyes.

Cleopatra has a cat! (i was picturing a siamese) Frida is lowkey allergic, but she can handle it. But if you thought Cleo was snooty...wait till you meet this cat.

Cleopatra snores. Frida thought it would be cute and quiet but it's actually kinda loud. Frida is contemplating ways to bring this up and survive to see another day.

Frida is an Aquarius! Cleopatra is a Scorpio (not to get in my astrology bag but I think she's a scorpio sun, leo rising and gemini moon. venus in leo or taurus. what do yall think about it.)

I wrote a lot hehe woops.

(TW: weed) Cleopatra is like a 'smoke at parties' kinda girl, whereas Frida smokes often for funsies and as a creativity boost.

(TW: weed) They tried to do a 'take an edible and go to an aquarium' date but Cleopatra got too high and freaked out in the shark tunnel. They'll try again but with an arboretum next time.

Frida can play the guitar. Cleopatra goaded her into playing for her once and folded immediately when she started singing. (at one point, Frida looked up and Cleo was taking off her clothes)

Speaking of, Cleopatra told Frida she signed up to be a model for her art class. Frida did not know she was a nude model. Frida should have guessed. damn it was hard to focus on painting that day

Cleopatra is now Frida's personal fashion consultant. She's a (cheerleader, homecoming queen) part-time model, she has a very keen eye for fashion obvi

When it's cold, Frida wears socks to bed and they argue about it all the time. They also argue about what side of the bed to sleep on (they both want the right side smh).

Frida loves going along with Cleo on her many beauty shop appointments (nails, hair, spa, etc) but won't go into any waxing/threading shop because the technicians start getting twitchy just looking at her. She feels like if she fell asleep, she'd wake up tied to the chair with two eyebrows.

They watch a lot of movies. Cleopatra laments how expensive TVs used to be but loves that they're cheap now because a big screen TV still makes her feel rich and luxurious.

Frida will be the first one to say I love you and it will mess Cleo up a little bit. don't worry tho, they'll talk about it! she's just not used to being loved (saad)

Frida is teaching Cleo Spanish, but all she wants to learn is swear words and dirty talk. it's gonna take a while

Cleopatra is a bug killer, Frida tries to trap and release.

Harriet (Frida's roomie in this AU) was extremely suspicious of Cleo at first ("wasn't she like your nemesis?") but she came around eventually ("enemies to lovers is kinda sexy...")

Frida is currently showing Cleo so many Spongebob episodes, she was sick of her constant references going to waste.

yes, they listen to a LOT of new music together. Frida tries to go in chronological order (2004 music, 2005 music etc), so that Cleo could hear the progression of music sound. (i could go on and on about music but these r getting long already)

Cleopatra is a passenger princess, but mostly because everybody is too scared to get in a car with her at the wheel; she drives like she's playing fucking GTA. (Frida thought people were kidding, but after they went soaring over a downhill speed bump one time, Frida politely took the keys forever).

speaking of GTA, that's Cleo's favorite video game. she enjoys mowing people down, blowing things up, and getting cute new outfits. Frida thinks its a good way for her to indulge her sadistic streak.

Mario Kartin': Frida mains an Orange Yoshi, Cleo goes between Peach and Rosalina (she refuses to make a Mii she thinks they're too ugly to represent her).

They become a different couple when they play mario kart. Frida is really fucking good and Cleopatra can't stand that shit eating grin every time she wins. (cleo would be like that tik tok sound: right hand on the bible, god can strike me down if im lying, that motherfucker's cheating!)

-----

I could write more but i wrote way too much already. y'all would have to ask for part 2. Also... may have snuck my next fic in here teehee.

if anybody wants to use these for art or what have you, go for it (but it better be gooood 😜)

tag and credit me tho so i can see it and be overjoyed

THANKS FOR ASKIN BESTIE!

#kahlopatra #clone high frida #clone high cleopatra #thank you for this question bestie hehe #anybody watch mpgis?

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septembercfawkes · 5 months

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The True Purpose of Antagonists

Hear the word "antagonist," and it will likely conjure up images of "bad guys," like Darth Vader, the Joker, or Mother Gothel; and even a simple search online will reveal that "antagonist" is often defined as a person, group, or even specifically, a character.

None of these things are completely accurate, though. An antagonist is not always a "bad guy." In Death Note, the antagonist is actually the true hero. The antagonist also doesn't have to be a person or a group. In The Martian, the antagonist is the Martian landscape.

Truthfully, any well-written story will be loaded with antagonists. Sure, there may be what we think of as the "main" antagonist. But in order to be a good story, there will be lots and lots and lots of antagonists.

The problem is, so many of us have a narrow view of what an antagonist is.

Yeah, it can be a "bad guy," or another character, or a group.

But it can also be a storm, a computer, a rock, a substance, or even one's own sleepiness.

When we broaden our understanding of the antagonist and comprehend its true purpose, we can write better stories.

Because we can write better plots.

And if you've been with me for a while, you may know I consider "antagonist" to be the second element of plot, with "goal" being the first.

At the most basic level, there are just three types of goals (this will be a review for some of you, but it's better to have a review than leave newcomers in the dark).

Obtain something.

Avoid something.

Maintain something.

The last type often gets a bad rap, because when handled poorly, it can make the protagonist appear passive and the story feel plotless.

In reality, though, it's only a problem if it doesn't have an antagonist.

Just as the other two are problems if they don't have antagonists.

If I want to obtain a trophy, and all I have to do is show up somewhere (i.e. "a participation trophy"), the story doesn't have much of a plot.

If I want to avoid zombies, and nothing is making me go near zombies, the story doesn't have much of a plot.

And if I want to maintain my perfect lifestyle day after day after day, and I don't have thoughts of death, burned breakfast, and suddenly flat feet upsetting my paradise in Barbieland . . . the story doesn't have much of a plot either.

(*It should be quickly noted, though, that some goal types may overlap, depending on the story. For example, Barbie wants to avoid flat feet in order to maintain her lifestyle. So don't get too nitpicky with categorizations 😉.)

At the most basic level, the antagonist opposes the goal.

It is what is blocking, resisting, or pushing the protagonist away from the goal.

You want a trophy? Well, you have to beat the other football team (antagonist).

You want to avoid zombies? Well, your sadistic neighbor is planning to lower you into a pit of them (antagonist).

You want to maintain a perfect lifestyle? Well, let's give you some terrible cellulite (antagonist).

Essentially, the antagonist's role is to create (or be the) problems and obstacles in the protagonist's journey. It creates (or is) the resistance to the goal.

This means that something that is mildly annoying the protagonist probably isn't going to cut it.

Sure, you may argue that it is something the character wants to "avoid," but for the story to be great, the goal needs to be significant, which means the antagonist needs to be significant as well. (And by "significant," I mean it carries meaningful consequences.)

The antagonist may be a direct opponent. The sadistic neighbor wants to lower you into a pit of zombies. You don't want to be lowered into a pit of zombies. You and your neighbor's goals are contradictory.

Or it may be a step out from that. The protagonist and antagonist have the same goal, but they can't both succeed. Each football team wants the trophy, but there can only be one victorious team.

Or it may be more indirect. Gloria isn't trying to ruin Barbie's life. She just has her own goals, and her path--her journey--happens to be ruining Barbie's perfect life.

Sometimes the antagonist isn't intentionally targeting the protagonist.

Regardless, what remains the same is that the antagonist is opposing the protagonist's goal. And for it to be most effective, there isn't an easy, foreseeable way for them to each get what they want (because what one wants somehow opposes what the other one wants.)

This is necessary to create proper conflict within the plot.

Now, as I mentioned above, any solid story will have more than the "main" antagonist. And some stories don't seem to even have one "main" antagonist (such as Hamilton). But whatever the case, there should be regular antagonistic forces.

As I've talked about previously, most stories have big goals that can be broken up into little goals. These often make up scenes (or even acts) in a story. In order for it to be a strong scene (or act) though, it almost always still needs an antagonist. It needs a goal and antagonist to create conflict.

When we think of Star Wars, we often think of the Empire, or Darth Vader, as the antagonists, but if we look at the story by acts or scenes, we see that, while these may be the "main bad guys," they may not always be the current antagonistic force. And they certainly aren't the only antagonistic forces.

For example, initially, Luke's goal is to get off the farm and go to academy--but it's not the Empire that is preventing him from doing that. It's his uncle. In the beginning, Luke's uncle is his antagonist.

And when Luke is trying to get back to the Millennium Falcon, and he falls in a garbage compactor, the garbage compactor and the creature (the Dianoga) become his antagonists.

Likewise, almost none of us would point to Gloria as the main antagonistic force of Barbie, but she is certainly an antagonistic force within scenes (and arguably, for Act I, though we don't yet know her).

This is why it is so important to broaden our perception of antagonists while also refining our understanding of them.

If Luke just easily left the farm and encountered zero problems whatsoever, or Barbie just continued maintaining her perfect life, it would be boring.

Maybe not right away.

But it would hit all too soon.

We need an antagonist for almost every scene, even if it's temporary.

It's the protagonist encountering the antagonist that creates the rising action of conflict in the scene.

And the antagonist does not need to have ill intentions. The antagonist could be a friend or ally who has good intentions.

For example, say Character A needs to get information from Character B (goal), but Character B doesn't want to give it (antagonist), because it will deeply hurt Character A. Even if both characters want what (they think) is best, they still have opposing goals, so there is still conflict. At the end of the scene, either Character A succeeds, or Character B succeeds. They can't both get what they want.

Similarly, the protagonist and her ally may both want to go to London to defeat a villain, but within a scene, they may have opposing ideas of how to get there. The protagonist wants to take a plane, and the ally wants to take a boat. Within a scene, the ally may be the antagonist for the protagonist.

And worth mentioning is that the antagonist may not even be aware it is the antagonist. Character A may need information from Character B, but Character B may be so distracted with his toddler, that Character A is struggling to get it from him. Character B may be oblivious to Character A's distress. Character B is still the antagonist (well, and arguably so is the toddler, who may also be unaware).

Likewise, a flood will not be aware it is the antagonist. But if it's blocking or creating problems for the protagonist on the way to his goal, it's the antagonist.

Consider a character who needs to stay awake to keep watch over camp . . . but his sleepiness is getting to him. Guess what? His sleepiness is the antagonist. He is his own antagonist.

In short, antagonists can show up in a lot of different ways, and there should be lots and lots of them. Whenever an entity is blocking, opposing, or pushing the protagonist away from the goal, it is acting as an antagonist--even if it's not the big baddie.

Make sure your story is full with them.

#writing tips and tricks #writing tips #writing help #writing tip #writer #writing advice #writing reference #writeblr #writing #fanfic

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multifandomsimagine · 7 months

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fmk kate, edwina, daphne

— kc

Fuck: Daphne

Marry: Kate

Kill: Edwina

#yoshino answers #cantstoptheimagines #sadist barbie #*abby lee miller voice* Edwina you didn't stick out to me #ask game

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 7 months

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How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 4)

Task Force141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Captain Price confronts you but he ends up wanting to cut off his eardrums instead.

You are currently reading Chapter 4. Here is Chapter 3 and the Masterlist!

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language, Mentions of violence and smut (if you squint) WORD COUNT 3.1K

Your forehead was planted on the wall before you, slanting your whole body underneath the running shower. Warm water unraveled your skin and you watched the drops fall to the white tiles beneath you, eyes following the flow until the drain.

Then your eyes shifted to the annoying fucking beeping monitor around your ankle. It beeped and lit repeatedly, as though mocking you that you had nowhere to go and the bald eagle had his shackles on you.

You grumbled, raking your fingers on your wet locks and pulled. "Fuck you, Shepherd. I hope your pinky toe hits a table and you die in pain!" You exclaimed, throwing punches in the air until you extended too far and slammed your fist on the wall.

You whimpered in pain and held your hand, crouching down on the floor. "Ah, shit. You fucking dumbass," you cursed at yourself.

You winced as your knuckles throb. You gazed at it, furrowing your brows and scrunching your nose at its redness. It didn't look like you broke a bone, but they surely would bruise later.

You sighed at your stupidity and remained crouching on the floor, eyeing the fallen strands of your hair coiled on your toes.

Was it necessary for Shepherd to humiliate you in front of the Task Force? Then again, your decency had long been thrown to the sewers and never to be seen again. Eh, maybe the scary fucking shit of a clown was taking care of your decency while he was taking a bath with the water mixed with piss and diarrhea from people's toilets in those canals, just like how he took care of children.

Not.

The General was merely a sadistic son of Gollum with a God complex. Seemingly a good guy but would throw his soldiers on the battlefield like chess pawns and replaceable toys he had gotten on Target on a Tuesday night in a bob cut wig, a cow onesie, and platform heels while taking a swig from the bottle of Bourbon he stole from the shelves.

Then, he’d play with them like a kid throwing toy tanks around, an awful whirring sound coming out of his throat like a goat going 'BLEEEEEEEAAAUGHHHH RATATATATA RATATATA!' as gun noises, lining up his green plastic soldiers like from Toy Story to go on war with Barbies and dinosaurs he stole from his neighbors.

Then, on his prissy little walk, he found another toy on the road.

You.

The bitch-ass scoundrel of an egghead caught you, only to throw you out and let his lap dog handle you (at least, his dog was better).

You were sure Gaz had noticed your hands and Soap had felt the way you shuddered earlier today. Price had kept his gaze on Shepherd, eyes narrowing the whole time, and Ghost, with the way he went around the table so he could observe every inch of you.

It would be more surprising if these people said to be dangerous as hell, failed to notice your stiffness the whole time you talked with the old man.

But that was the plan.

You wiggled your toes to remove the hair and stood up, a smile appearing on your lips as thoughts hit your mind.

You began to remember some scenes in BL manhwas you had read before, specifically taking place in the shower, where the top would be running his hand on the bottom's thighs and—

And . . .

AND YOUR FREAKING DRAWINGS WERE IN PRICE'S OFFICE!

You turned the shower off. "Shit." You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around you. "Shit, shit!" You hauled another towel and wrapped it on your head.

You rushed out of the bathroom, almost slipping on the floor because of the water droplets, then padded towards your closet. You only had a few pairs of clothes with you, most of them were bought by Kate when she was looking after you.

You slipped on a hoodie that you had to fight Laswell to let you bring and cargo pants, but the ankle monitor was a bitch and wouldn't let you tuck in your pants. In the end, you just folded up the hem of the pants above the monitor and did the same to the other.

If only you weren't going to the Captain's office, you would have worn shorts that you were required to wear for physical training. But rules were equally a bitch and you weren't allowed to do it. Because bruh, they didn't know the struggles of someone with a bigass ankle monitor that would go wee-woo wee-woo! like goddamn ambulance whenever you set foot outside the building without Soap slamming on you as if you were in a bloody wrestling match.

But then again, people here weren't criminals (or maybe they had already committed a crime, but no one caught them doing it), and you had no right to complain about how things go.

You slammed the door open and screamed at the person before you. "Jesus!" Before you knew it, your palm planted on the person's face, making them stumble back upon impact. Only when a hat landed on your feet and the person brought their hand to their cheek, did you realize it was Price, who stared at you with an open mouth and wide eyes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAA—" You dropped to your knees and clasped your hands. "Oh my god, sir, captain, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried and dipped your head low. "Please, don't bring me back to Shepherd!"

"That's not . . ." His low voice trailed off as he gazed down at you, frowning at how you didn't even hesitate to kneel before him, as though you had done this before.

What the fuck did Shepherd do to you?

He sighed and reached down to you. "Get up, young lady—"

"Didn't know ye were into havin' someone on their knees before ye, sir," a deep voice in a thick Scottish accent echoes from the hallway.

You and Price turned to where the voice came from, and in a blink, the captain dashed towards the sergeant, giving him a good knee on the stomach.

A couple of flashes went off as Soap coughed in pain. Behind him, Gaz and Ghost had their phones out.

Aye, ladies and gentlemen, the dangers to be reckoned with, Task Force 141!

You cupped a hand beside your mouth and shouted, "Well fucking deserved, macrooster!"

"Hah?!" Soap whipped his head in your way, eyes bulging out. "What'd ya call me?!"

"I said, do better, Mactavish!”

"That's not what ya said!"

“Why are you three here?” Price questioned, pulling Soap back up to his feet.

“We’re going to ask her to play Uno with us,” Gaz answered, walking past them and sauntering towards you. You flashed him a soft smile, which he returned and extended a hand to you. You grabbed the Captain’s hat by your feet and clasped Gaz’s hand, letting him pull you up as though you weighed nothing. You put Price’s hat on him, tilting it down to hide his eyes, making a low laugh leave his lips. “C’mon now, hun.”

Ey, wadafak?

Did this guy—dead-ass beautiful guy, who was definitely the Captain’s favorite son, one who still hadn’t strangled the shit out of you, which you wished he would do already so you could feel his thighs and biceps and pecs—called you hun? Oh, you’d suck his dick right now, leave kisses on every inch of his body like your life depended on it, moan his name, and let him have you in the way he wanted until all the walls were white.

But that would be bad. Real bad. Because: One, Shepherd would lock you up again. Two, Shepherd would paint the room red with your blood. Three, you’d be Phillip Grave’s slave again. Four . . . 141 would hate you.

You were used to being told flattering words and getting cat-called, and most of the time, it didn’t end well. For them.

But Gaz, well, he could get away with it, and Soap.

Price raised a brow. “Where’d you get . . .”

“Confiscated it from the rookies.” Soap rubbed his stomach and frowned at the reddened spot shaped like a hand on the older man’s cheek. “What happened to yer face, Cap’n?”

You averted your gaze, which Gaz noticed as he fixed the hat on his head. A small smirk appeared on his lips, knowingly eyeing you.

"Nothing." Price cleared his throat and marched back to you, followed by Soap and Ghost, who you realized was holding a small cardboard box.

Was that filled with Uno cards they confiscated or something?

Pushing the thought back, you looked up at the Captain. "Uh, I apologize, sir, but may I ask what brings you here?"

"I want to have a word with you," he replied immediately, causing his soldiers to raise their brows in question. "Preferably in private." He nodded at the dark, empty hallway behind him.

“Oh, if that’s an order coming from you sir,” you nodded, “then of course.”

Price shook his head. “Not an order, but I deem it more important.”

You calmly nodded, keeping your eyes at the intensity of his gaze. “Of course, sir.”

Price turned to the rest of his team and patted Soap’s shoulder. “You can play Uno later. I won’t keep her too long.” With that, he glanced at you as a sign to follow him and marched away.

You shot a smile at the three, before jogging after the Captain. He kept a steady pace, not fast to let you keep up with his big steps yet not slow, so it wouldn’t take long to where he wanted to lead you which was definitely not his office. Only your footfalls could be heard in the hallway, whereas in the daytime, it was usually bustling with soldiers. You stared at his broad back and heaved out a sigh. Somewhat, you had a feeling of what the conversation would be.

“Frankly, I don’t trust you,” he said, deep voice echoing in the hallway along with your footsteps.

You couldn’t help but smile at his back. Goddamn, straight to the point.

“We do not know where you’re from, you have a criminal record, and we’re not sure why Shepherd put you in my Task Force.” He halted before a door, turning to you in a blink that you almost bumped into him if you hadn’t reacted fast enough. “But there must be a reason why he called you a ‘tool’.”

You pursed your lips, sighing again. You shook your head and met him directly in the eyes. “I’ll also be frank, sir. I hate being called a ‘tool’. I am human, just like the rest of you, although I may be different from the kind of people you were used to being around. I can’t blame you for being suspicious and untrustworthy. But I assure you, I am here to work.”

His eyes narrowed. “Work?” He repeated. “Work for Shepherd as his spy? Work to foil our missions? Work to assassinate the Task Force?”

You simply stared at him. “No, sir. I’m here to help you.”

“Oh, but the Task Force is enough without you,” he said, watching your unwavering gaze. During the past week, he had observed you from the sidelines, not getting as close as the three did but still laughed along with the rest of you at the right times. Your laid-back demeanor, smiles and laughs seemed genuine, yet he couldn’t see what your eyes had beheld and couldn’t discern what circles in your mind. But he was sure of one thing, those weren't the eyes of a mere criminal.

“I . . . I mean, if we do the math, five is better than four in quantity—but I guess, you’re talking about quality and yeah, I’ve heard enough stories about why Task Force 141 is dangerous,” you rambled, shrugging.

He almost pulled a face had he not remembered this was technically an interrogation. Why on earth were you talking about math?

He leaned down a bit. “If I happen to know you’re here to bring harm to us, I’m telling you now,” he paused and pointed at you, “you’ll wish you’re dead.”

He then swiftly turned and opened the door, a range welcoming your sight.

You had heard of threats like that a few times before. It was certainly overused, but it never got old, because either it became true or it became a laughable warning to those who couldn’t make it true.

You had heard Shepherd and Graves state that while you were on a chair, hands, and ankles bound in chains on a chair in the middle of a small, dimly lit room with roaches and spiders partying around. You could remember the screws, pliers, and other tools scattered on the floor, creating clangs each time they were dropped, splattering blood on the floor. And every time they did, all they could hear after was a wheezy laugh from your lips, commenting on how cheap they were to use those tools.

But this time, you couldn’t laugh.

Because this man just let you stand before him and let you walk behind him as if he didn’t even consider you could stab him in the back. He didn’t back away when he had a pocket knife peeking out of his pockets that you could simply grab and drive to his throat, then go for the rest of his team.

It should have been laughable, and yet, you admired him for not keeping you restrained for not knowing what you knew and could do. You admired him for being head-on, instead of making you hear a bland-ass monologue that could make you sleepy like some kid.

You admired him for his words that meant he'd kill for the safety of Gaz, Soap, and Ghost.

Now this was a gamble you were willing to take on.

“By the way, sir,” you followed him in, “are you going to make me your target? I don’t think I can dodge all the bullets you’re going to fire at me.

He pulled a face, his nose scrunching. “No.”

“Are we having a competition? I like competitions.”

“. . . No.”

“I thought you said this won’t take long, sir. It’s been eight minutes and forty-nine seconds, fifty seconds, fifty-one—”

For the first time in his life, Jonathan Price wanted to slam his head on a concrete.

The plane descended on the runway and brought harsh, cold winds slashing in every direction, beating the falling snow out of the way.

You sat on the hood of the jeep Price used to bring the group, feet swinging back and forth and watching the plane turn. You gathered your hair in a couple of French braids, before tying them into a bun. You had worn a headset, given by Captain Price, but that wasn't enough to keep your ears from the cold, unlike the rest of your body covered in layers of thick clothes, but still light enough to move around swiftly.

You kept your gloved hands in the pocket of your jacket, pursing your lips as the blades of the plane came to a stop. A stair was placed in front of the door before it slid open and a familiar man climbed down.

Phillip Graves, the Shadow himself.

Blond hair parted from the left as usual, but instead of a shirt, he had worn a jacket under his vest to fight off the cold. He still had the fucking collar microphone thing around his neck, though. Like a good dog.

Price walked forward, meeting the commander halfway, and extended a gloved hand towards him. "Graves, good to work with you again."

"Likewise, Captain." Phillip gave his hand a shake, before quickly taking his own back, and shot a glance at you. "Hope someone isn't making your life a living hell."

Price chuckled, his breath coming out as white puffs. "No, not really."

"Well, don't expect it to last." The Shadow scoffed and walked over to your direction with the Captain. Without batting an eye this time, he greeted the Sergeants and Lieutenant, shaking their hands, patting their shoulders as though they were brothers-in-arms.

You huffed at the friendly smile on his face, kind of glad to have a new person (not really) to annoy around, and shifted your gaze at the men in black following out of the chopper.

You grinned, eyes turning crescent, but just as you hopped down from the hood to run towards them, a hand grabbed your arm. You faced Ghost, who stared at you in silence, but that was enough to tell what he wanted to say. "I'm just going to greet the Shadows," you said.

"I don't think they like to talk with ya," Ghost claimed, his eyes shifting to the contractors who all remained standing at the bottom of the stairs. He let go of you. Or maybe, they didn't want him to talk to them. Could be both, though.

"Your sinister face is enough to greet them," Phillip declared, swiveling to you with a serious face.

You turned, mirroring his expression. "Nice to see you too, Phillip," you responded and raked your eyes from his face and down to his boots. You painted a smile on your face, bringing your gaze up to his face. "Have you been working out? It seems you've gotten bigger." You stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. "Can't wait to have you under me again."

The Task Force and Graves simultaneously furrowed their brows upon hearing your words, a question going in their brains. Wadafak?

Soap couldn't help but stare at your condescending smirk with his lips slightly parted in disbelief. What the actual fucking fuckity fuck? Did he hear that right? Did you actually shag this American? Well, not that he was concerned, but it seemed you didn't have a good relationship with him considering the way you tensed up before Shepherd and Graves' mere pictures back at the meeting a couple of days ago. Wait—were you actually into Graves instead but the man was so devoted to the General and you hated that? Bloody steaming Jesus.

Graves shook off your hand and stepped away, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t touch me."

"Okay." You backed away to Ghost's side, waving a hand and pulling a face. "Sensitive."

"Are we boarding the same vehicle?" Gaz questioned, turning the attention to him.

"Yes, General Shepherd said it would be better if we discuss the mission more thoroughly," Graves immediately answered, gesturing at the plane. "Currently, one of mine is piloting it.”

"Good," Price nodded in acknowledgment and walked away. "Let's get going, 141."

It was nice to hear him refer to you as part of the group, but you knew it was just a facade he decided to keep after the gamble you took a couple of nights ago.

And he made one thing clear, share the prize or pay the price.

The Chapter 5 is here!

You can also read the series on AO3 here!

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @sae1kie, @sarahedwards16

Note: EARLY UPDATE FOR Y'ALL CUZ IT'S MY BDAY!!! Ngl, I'd let Gaz rail me because it's Gaz (look at Elliot Knight, guys, man's fucking beautiful). Also, we're adding Keegan.

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candyredmusings · 2 years

Text

Do you wanna fucking party? Do you wanna let me tie you to the back of my ferrari? Will you let me cut your head off if I tell you that I'm sorry?

#musings #the vengeful #the sadist #the mad #toxic inspo #toxic ship #the abusive #the monster #the feral #source: barbie and ken - scene queen

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barbiecrocs · 8 months

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Handle or Handled

Nanami Kento

tags! brief choking, piv, a mean Nanami, slutty reader, brief mention of masturbation, car sex, degradation (use of slut), orgasm denial, mention of food kink (kinda)

WC. 1651

Barbie's note... Yall, I was kinda lazy with this one, but that don't mean its bad. I like it so that says smth yk. Anyway have fun yall!! kiss kiss

You have no idea what you do to him. Turning on his sadistic switch when you step out of the house in nothing, but a two-piece lingerie set with a sheer cover-up just to water your plants and collect the mail. Your slutty and unassuming look is what makes him want to break you so badly. Did you have no acknowledgment of the corrupt people in the world? The people like him who want to break that pretty face into bits and then make you clean it up naked on your hands and knees. But hey, he wasn’t exactly the nicest guy so why would it matter to him?

You prance around in summer wear all year long. Tiny shorts in the winter, then swimsuits in the summer. Did you never get cold? He had to do a double-take when he looked across the street and saw you washing cars for unneeded money. He was sure you just wanted the attention and he was willing to give it to you, pulling up a chair on his balcony with a nice cold beer and taking in the view. Shirt see-through, jean cut-offs up your ass, and these plastic platform sandals that went clickety-clackety up his porch stairs when you came around to bring him cookies. He never ate them, the only thing he ever did was jerk off to them, his grown imagination running wild in hopes that he could just simply bring the cum-clad cookies back over to you and watch you gulp them down with seconds in mind. Seconds that he would gladly serve to you hot and ready.

Just then the doorbell rang and the suddenness almost made him cum in his pants. He had been holding it back for a while, telling himself that he wouldn't tend to that type of thing right now. If only he knew what the day held for him.

He frantically looked around his living room before finding an apron that lay across his sofa. He swung the door open only to find no one, then directed his eyeline a bit lower. You, in a black tank top, jean mini skirt, and your signature black Chuck Taylors, panting as if you were coming down from a high. Your hand rests next to his head on the door frame, your other hand on your hip, and your body covered in a thin sheet of sweat. "Thank god you answered. I desperately need your help. I would've asked the other neighbors, but they either don't like me or are too old. Plus, I think you're the fittest guy here." You stared at him for a second until you realized you hadn't told him what you needed help with. "Oh, right. I kinda need you to help me push start my car." You give him a sheepish smile, that drops when he wipes his forehead in what you assume is frustration and annoyance but is actually him trying to hide a very mischievous and impish grin. "I'm sorry. It's wrong of me to bother my neighbors with my problems. Please forgive me." You begin to turn away for a graceful exit before he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's fine. I can do it." You quietly cheer as you lead him to your car which was only at the beginning of the block.

You hand him a pair of rubber gloves and before you can say a word, he rolls up his sleeves and gets to pushing. A gasp drops out of your mouth from seeing the muscly arms you dreamed about. His strong arms wrapped around your waist as you rode him on your couch. Or him putting you into a choke hold while fucking you from behind and degrading you. You nearly drooled then snapped yourself out of your daydream for being so silly.

You realize that he was already more than halfway to your house and you get in the car to direct it all the way.

"Wow Mr. Nanami, you've got big muscles." You yell, driving into your driveway. "Want to touch them?" He flexes, his playfulness catching you off guard. You never suspected him to return your energy or anything of the sort so you lay it on even thicker, trying to see how far you could take it. "Don't think I won't." You both smirk as he puts a hand on the top of your car. "You don't know what you would be getting yourself into if you took that next step." You pull him closer by the pocket of his apron, "I'm a big girl. I think I can handle myself, hop in."

It's all a haze of bottoms coming off until he's in between your legs with the bottom half of his face soaked from your teased cunt. He had been denying you of your orgasm for the longest, trying to make this encounter last for hours to get you to crumble in his hands. Even five minutes would be enough, but he wants to drag everything out of you for as long as he can. "Nanami..." You groan, taking a while to finish your sentence since you lost your train of thought in the last wave of pleasure.

“Please let me cum!” Breaths of air continuously push out your mouth as you grip any and everything closest to you with your eyes shut tight. He shakes his head between your legs, but it goes unnoticed so he nips at your inner thigh, “Look at me, slut.” A gasp leaves your mouth at the drop of his pet name and you lock eyes with him immediately. “That got your attention, huh?” You nod slowly, scared that if you take too much attention away from holding your orgasm, you’ll explode. You almost can’t hold it in even while crossing your legs, "Nanami please, fuck! Let me cum!" Your gaze into his eyes deepens, but he still shakes his head, “I want you to work for it.”

—

You look back at him from your position on his lap with an unsure and teary expression, only to see him checking out the view of your ass. He scoots the front seat up to tip you forward and catch a glimpse of your wet pussy from behind. "Well, what are you waiting for? Put it in yourself." Your tears are painfully close to spilling out of your eyes. "But Nanami, this position is kinda embarrassing-" You cut yourself off when he spanks your ass, "Did I ask for your input? If it wasn't a question, then I expect you to follow my orders to the T. Embarrassment should be the last thing on your mind when you flaunt around in tiny skirts and tight shirts all year long." Your eyebrows raise vividly and a dopey smile etches onto your face, “So you noticed? Glad to see that my efforts haven’t been overlooked.” A deep and unholy-sounding chuckle erupts from his throat and heads straight to your cunt which now has its own heartbeat. “God, you’re such a fucking attention whore.” He begins to line himself up with your entrance since you stalled on the idea.

"Nanami, you're so mean." You pout, completely oblivious to his current actions. "I know. You can handle it though." He slams himself into you and you cum instantly with a roar of his name. Your core goes tight, heat rushes over your body, and your legs spazz while your toes bend and flex themselves to take away from your built-up orgasm. The look that Nanami gives you is a mix of disappointment and dissatisfaction and his hand slides up to your neck, “Didn’t I tell you to hold it?” You nod and the hand on your throat makes its presence known with a firm squeeze. ”Fuck. Did you just get tighter?” You hadn’t even noticed it, but another orgasm was starting to build and just as your body was starting to relax into him, you started moving again. The thought of another world-shattering orgasm being around the corner was enough encouragement for you to get moving unlike before. You catch Nanami by surprise with your sudden enthusiasm, but he easily picks up his sadistic and impish demeanor again. Asserting dominance and supremacy by grabbing you by the hips when he feels you tighten even more and working you down onto him faster. Bumpy moans of his name drag out of your mouth as you get worked closer to your release. You open your mouth to beg, but before the words can come out he grants you permission to cum. Heat spreads over your body once more and your fingers dig into the back of your driver seat almost to the point of tearing through the leather. You would’ve screamed his name if not the tightening grip on your neck as he cums with you.

You both decompress and his hands uncuff your throat and hips. Your hand comes up to your neck and you can’t help but wonder if he left a beautiful bruise for you to wake up to. He sees your caressing and takes it as concern, “Come on, I’ll take you inside and get you cleaned up.” You almost accept his offer and start to gather your clothes until you realize that you still have more juice left in you and wouldn’t mind going for another round. You get back onto his lap and start to grind down on him which instantly provokes a boner. “Oh? Done so soon?” He smirks “Don’t tell me that you’re older than you seem, old man.” Just in that sentence, you unlocked another side of him, apparently, he doesn’t like being called an old man. “You’re making it very hard to be nice.” You show a small smirk and turn around on his lap to where you are facing him, “That’s fine. I can handle it, remember?”

#jjk x reader smut #smut #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #kento smut #jujustu kaisen smut

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blues824 · 1 year

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May I request The leech twins, Azul, Riddle and Malleus with GN! reader who likes to watch true crime documentaries

Like the reader probably invites them to watch it too

I am a dedicated true crime junkie, you feel me? I was excited when I got this request. Y’all gonna learn about some of my favorite criminal stories (warning) today.

Other Warnings: Cases of SA, poisoning, killing, necrophilia

Riddle Rosehearts

It was one time where he caught you wearing your headphones and watching something on your phone around Heartslabyul. It wasn’t against the rules or anything, he was just curious as to what his beloved rose was watching. He asked you about it, and you said it was an episode about Giulia Tofana.

You told him about how she sold cosmetic products called Aqua Tofana that would contain belladonna, arsenic, and lead; all common cosmetic products at the time. Riddle was absolutely shocked that you would enjoy watching something as gruesome as that.

This caused you to disconnect your headphones so that he could watch alongside you. He learned about how Tofana admitted to the Roman authorities that she killed about 600 men with her poison, and some of her customers were tried as well. He honestly could not continue, as he was going to throw up at any given moment.

Azul Ashengrotto

You came into the Lounge while watching something on your phone, and the cecaelia was curious as to what it was that got your attention. He asked, and you told him that it was a true crime documentary that you had gotten into. Mans was shocked, considering you didn’t seem like the type of person to watch that sort of thing.

The episode you were currently watching was one about Baba Anujka. You went to his office, where you disconnected your headphones and played it for the two of you to watch. He was shocked that she murdered about 150 men, and even more shocked to find out that she gave poison to the wives of said men so that they could be the ones to kill their husbands.

Mans was not able to sleep at night because all he could think about was that one episode of the true crime documentary. How could you just casually watch something like that and not even bat an eye towards it. Now he knows that you probably know how to hide a body… best to stay on your good side.

Jade Leech

You went to his dorm to help him move his mushrooms to the greenhouse when he saw that you had headphones on and you were previously watching something. As you put your phone away, he asked what you were watching before, and you told him that it was a true crime documentary about the Ken and Barbie Killers.

When he asked, you gave the basic rundown. Paul Bernardo was a sadistic man, and Karla Homolka encouraged his behavior which led to him being charged with 13 r@pes and around 2 murders, though it was suspected that he killed more. Jade was surprised that you were into true crime, but to each their own.

He asked if he could watch it with you before you dropped off the mushrooms, so you both finished the episode. He was honestly kind of glad that you were here in this world rather than back in your world because there weren’t too many criminals in any of the different kingdoms. He did find it quite interesting, though. He might have to watch the documentary for himself.

Floyd Leech

You were sitting on the bench at the courtyard, watching the documentary, when your beloved eel came running up to you and picked you up in a tight squeeze. He sat down on the bench and placed you on his lap as he looked at your phone, asking you what you were watching. You told him about the true crime documentary, and about how the current episode you were on was about Ted Bundy.

He didn’t know who he was, so you told him that he was a man who often preyed on young women, often deceiving them by wearing a sling or cast to get their sympathy. He would then hit the women over the head or knock them out some other way and murder them… which was typically when he would have his way with the bodies. Floyd was totally shocked, but definitely intrigued. So, he got himself comfy and asked if he could watch it with you. You handed him and earbud and you both watched it on the bench,

Once the episode had finished, the Leech twin was so angry that the police never really looked into him as a suspect because he didn’t fit the stereotype (me too, buddy). Not just that, but he constantly escaped prison. He squeezed you tightly at the thought of you having to live in a world where you had to worry about people like that guy.

Malleus Draconia

You were waiting for him for your walk that night, and he saw you watching something on your phone. He asked what you were watching and you told him that it was a true crime documentary that you thought was interesting. The current episode you were on was about John Wayne Gacy.

You had to tell him the entire story, though. So, you patted the spot next to you and told the very long tale of the birthday-clown-turned-serial-killer. You explained how he assaulted young boys and killed them, and how in the end he was convicted of 33 murders.

The dragon prince was definitely shocked that you could watch something like that so casually, but to be fair he often had to see criminals like that as the Crowned Prince of Briar Valley. He was actually kind of glad that you could withstand something like this, since you would be seeing it in-person if you became his spouse.

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 8 months

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I feel like there aren’t as many “dominant/sadistic” female reader stories. Like don’t get me wrong, I love dominant men, but let’s make that story a bit more spicy…So here’s another idea I had…Male Yandere Fiancé X Female Sadistic Reader

Darling grows up from a prominent old money family, and from young childhood was put into an arranged marriage with one of her father’s longtime friend’s son (who was the same age, and also from a old money family, hence the arranged marriage). Darling was born with a sadistic streak (inherited from her mother, cause we gotta love generational femme fatales), and just thought “why not play what’s already been promised to me?” So she decides to cruelly play with her fiancés feelings even at a young age. (Goes the whole gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss route). For example, fiancé (the yandere), falls in love with her easily since Darling easily manipulates him. Once fiancé is hooked, Darling abuses him into becoming her “ideal man,” forcing fiancé to workout relentlessly, spend countless days/nights studying to become more intelligent, perform extravagant acts of love/devotion to her, etc. Fiancé is pushing himself to the limits in every which way for Darling, because if he doesn’t, Darling is threatening to break off the engagement and leave him forever.

Last day of college arrives (it was agreed between the two families that after the kids graduated college, they’d get married asap), but Darling being the cruel thing she is, makes out with another man in front of yandere fiancé and declares that she loves the new man more and wants to marry him instead. The new man is the total opposite of yandere fiancé (physically weak, lowest ranking in each class, from a “poor family/ugly,” etc.) and in a sense Darling breaks yandere fiancé’s psyche, cause what has he been working for his entire life now? Yandere fiancé snaps and sets a plan into motion to get his Darling to stay with him, because no matter what she does to him, he will always love her (he’s absolutely delusional and off the rails). After all, he’s going to make sure he gets his fairy tale happily ever after.

So maybe in the end he does become the “dominant” one, or maybe Darling is still the “dominant” one. Who knows? But I hope this idea of a story could have some fun exploring various power/relationship dynamics, and how they can spectacularly backfire. I hope you can have fun with this one too! <3

TW: Noncon, manipulation, corporal punishment

You always liked Barbies. You love the fact their Ken's are just dolls to them. Another accessory to their closet. Their only job is to be a fool in love.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Lucian, your future fiance, says.

"Playing with dolls," You reply, looking at him.

17 years have gone since then, and Lucian has shaped up quite nicely. You planted little suggestions about what you liked in his head, and he eagerly followed like a horse trying to eat a carrot waving in front of its face. He wears contact lenses because you hate brown eyes. He dyed his hair blonde, changed his style, and even got on steroids for a while to bulk up for you. If he didn't, you'd threaten to end the engagement.

Now, you're in your senior year of college. You're an A+ plus student and a vivid party girl as well. Lucian never knew about you sneaking out from his eye to party all night. He never knew about all the guys you hooked up with. The poor boy would be furious if he knew you fucked with the guys who were antithesis to him. Dumb, jock, alcoholic, trouble, everything he thought you hated.

"Oh, Jeremy, you've gotta try this jungle juice! It's amazing!" You exclaim, practically hugging your jock boy toy Jeremy.

"I know it's amazing. I made it," Jeremy laughs, turning you around and kissing your neck.

You kiss Jeremy's lips and make out with him. You didn't even know kissing Jeremy was your metaphorical kiss of death.

"God, I wanna marry you," You coo as Jeremy snaps your bra strap.

Now you've signed your death warrant.

"How could you?" Lucian mumbles, crushing his red party cup.

"Jeremy, let's head to your bed," You whisper, kissing his neck.

He leads you to his room, and Lucian takes advantage of the large crowd to pull you away. Lucian drags you outside despite your complaints.

"Luci, what the hell are you doing?" You drunkenly say, trying to get your hand free from Lucian.

"Listen to me! You're not going to treat me like I'm some doll anymore. I've changed myself beyond recognition for you. I've obeyed your every order. You're going to love me!" Lucian snaps, throwing you into the passenger seat of his car.

"Don't threaten me. Dogs don't growl at their masters," You hiss, making Lucian stop the car.

Lucian unbuckles your seatbelt and slaps you across the face.

"You're going to respect me for once in your life," Lucian monotonously says, buckling you back in and driving back to his apartment.

You stay silent for the rest of the ride until Lucian carries you inside. You don't know what's wrong with you. You would never let someone, especially Lucian, treat you like this. Where did your wits and words go?

"If you even think of trying to run away or stop me, I will tell your parents all about your dirty alcohol and party drugs addiction. Mommy and daddy tolerate lots of things, but they won't tolerate their junkie daughter spending their money on drugs to party," Lucian threatens, putting a change of clothes next to you. "Now, change. I don't want you sleeping in my bed smelling like booze and sweat."

You nod your head and change into fresh clothes.

"Lay across my lap," Lucian commands, rubbing your butt. "Call me my love, master, sir, or my name. Do you understand, pet?"

"Yes, sir."

Lucian takes off his belt and slams it across your ass. You flinch, but Lucian holds you still.

"Sir, please stop," You whimper, trying to hold your tears.

"Pets don't disobey orders," Lucian says, slamming his belt across your butt again.

"Sorry, sir."

Lucian spanks you fifty more times, and each time is worse and more pleasurable than the last.

"Ah, master!" You moan, cumming onto Lucian's pants.

"Damn it, you messed up my pants!" Lucian groans, pulling your pants down.

"I'm sorry, master!" You yell, Lucian pulling your hair back.

"Suck my cock, pet."

"Yes, my love."

You kiss and lick Lucian's cock. It shivers with every touch, and your soon-to-be husband grabs the back of your head and forces your mouth to take his whole dick. You gag on it for a while, then get used to it. He pushes your head so far down that your lips touch his balls. Once your lips touch his balls, he cums into your mouth and yanks your hair back to get your lips off his cock.

"You've learned your lesson?" Lucian asks, holding your head up by the hair.

"Yes. I'm sorry I manipulated you!" You cry, your mascara running, leaving black streaks.

"Good. You're mine, and we'll be married once we graduate. You're going to respect me for once in your miserable life."

Lucian lets go of your hair, and you faceplant onto the mattress.

"Now then, let's have some good bonding time. I don't want our relationship to be like it was when you were still in control. No manipulating you into someone else. No cheating on me with someone else. Just our true selves," Lucian says, cleaning your mascara streaks away and kissing you. "I love you."

#yandere fiance #rich yandere #yandere smut #yandere noncon #sadistic reader #f! reader

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