#CANT TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RED AND PALE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bbybaku · 3 years

Text

cranky no nut november boyfriend shigaraki

yes i know its july.

1.8 k words

slow burn but there is smut

warnings: angry shig, humiliation, degrading, oral (fem recieving), use of vibrator, shoes on bed, angst, fluff, mentions of masturbtion

your boyfriend, tomura shigaraki, had made a bet with his friends, about who could last the longest during no nut november.

you thought a month wouldn’t be that bad, right? you guys could handle it.

the first few days were nothing. you two were busy and didnt think that much of it.

but the first weekend shiggy had invited you over to watch a movie. which was usually code for “let’s fuck”

you went over to his apartment, about 20 minutes into the movie you slipped your hand under the blanket, feeling around for his cock.

“hey” he said softly but irritated as he picked up your hand and moved it.

“what? we always-“ you asked

“i’m taking this month seriously, i can eat you out or something but we cant, you cant” he said

you were not expecting him to take it this seriously.

you knew your boyfriend he never took anything seriously? why did he have to take this stupid month seriously.

“well, do you want?” he asked as he ran his fingers over your clothed clit.

“no let’s just hang out tonight” you said.

“okay” he said then kissed you on the head and pulled you into his lap.

you could feel his erection. but you knew you had to ignore it.

week 2 was easy because shigaraki was out of town for a work trip.

you didn’t know how he was doing it. no sex was one thing, but not even masturbating?

you had been touching yourself every day to the thought of him, the pictures you had of him and sometimes

the movies you had made together.

the night he got back he came straight to your apartment.

he looked pale.

you went in for a hug, but he pushed you away.

“no” he snapped “ i just wanted to see you”

you gulped “oh okay”

you cooked dinner and he told you about the trip.

the space between your thighs ached the entire evening.

you asked him to stay the night but he said he no.

and he left.

it was day 15. you needed him. your hand could only do so much. you couldnt do what he could do. he knew your body better than you did.

you texted him to hang out.

the two of you got coffee then made out in the car.

his mouth tasted so good. your body presses against the console, arms around his neck. the kiss starting equal but he very quickly shoved his tongue in your mouth. he took your jaw in his hand and held your face while his tongue circled yours. you sucked on his bottom lip. his hand found your tit. your hand found his crotch.

shigaraki instantly pulled away, he was pissed “how many fucking times do i have to tell you no?”

you sighed “im sorry i just-”

he pushed his hair out of his face and took your jaw in his hand again. “look at me. i want to be inside of you so bad. i think about you all the time. i love you so much but we just cant right now.”

his tone made you want him even more. it was embarrassing how hot you got when he was irritated. and he knew it.

“i hate this stupid challenge” you said through his grip on your jaw.

“do you want to be like that?” he talked down to you with a smirk.

“we can always go back to my apartment, and work on your attitude” he said letting go of your face and grabbing the gear shift.

you had soaked through your panties a while ago. you were excited but knew you wouldnt be filled up the way you wanted to be.

the drive to shiggys apartment was agonizing. the sexual tension was higher now than it was on your first date. it felt like you were getting stopped at every red light, the car in front of you was always going slow. and both of you were sweating.

he had one hand rubbing your thigh and the other on the steering wheel, except at stops when he would run it through his shaggy hair. when he finally got to his apartment complex the two of you practically sprinted inside.

“elevator?” you asked pressing the up button repeatedly.

he took his hands out of his pockets and said “stairs”

the two of you raced up to the fourth floor, you beat him but just barely. once both of you were in the hallway he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

once in his apartment he didnt even turn the lights on, he took you to his bed and threw you on it.

he stood over you and sighed. “its your lucky day” he then pushed you up to the headboard and pulled off your panties. so eager, you were both still wearing shoes and the window was open.

you shivered at the cold air on your exposed heat.

shigaraki just stared for a minute. he loved vulnerability.

he loved having you at his mercy.

he pushed your skirt up and grabbed onto your thighs.

“i knew you would be soaked.” he shook his head “such a whore” he said.

and just like that he dove right in.

he licked up your folds and you bucked your hips to meet him.

his grip on your thighs tightened and he pushed you into the bed.

“dont move” he met your eyes when he said it.

he started sucking hickies on your inner thighs, his fingers teasing at your clit.

you held his head in your hands, not directing him, but rubbing his scalp.

he occasionally hummed into your thighs at the feeling.

he pulled off of your inner thigh and brought his mouth and nose to your entrance. you whimpered, expecting him to relieve your ache.

he blew cold air on your exposed heat.

you cried out.

and shigaraki crawled up to meet you at eye level.

he straddled you and leaned down “beg.” he whispered

“please” you whispered

“i dont get anything for this. why should i be nice if i dont get the reward of your tight little pussy? or getting to fuck your pretty face. make it worth my while. give me this one little thing. i said to beg like the whore you are.”

you gulped. “please tomura. i touch myself to the thought of you every day and nothing satisfies me like you do. i just want you. i want you to fill me up and please let me come. please sir.”

“hmm okay, i guess but its embarrassing that you touch yourself so much, you really are a whore.” he said as he repositioned his mouth at your entrance.

he once again pinned your hips to the bed and brough his mouth to your entrance.

his long slender fingers ran through your folds a few times before stopping at your clit and rubbing circles.

you moaned in pleasure, finally. shigaraki was relieving your ache.

he sucked on your entrance and drank your juice like it was water from the tap. you could feel his tongue at your entrance, he tease then run his tongue through your folds.

your entire body was shaking and the knot in your stomach was about to release.

“please i - can i please” you whined.

shikaraki hummed yes into you, his grip on your thighs tightening

the hum was what sent your over the edge, your walls tightening and releasing around shigarakis mouth.

he pulled off for a moment and looked at you “that was fast. youre so easy, y/n, you know that?”

and at that he went right back to what he was doing, only this time it was his finger. at your entrace and his tongue on your clit.

his tongue going all around and eventually stopping and making out with your bud.

you were crying at the pleasure.

his long fingers going in and out, and in and out. at no particular speed or regularity and occasionally stoping to curl inside you.

your hands went to shiggys hair, but you couldnt control yourself the way you had earlier. your hands were shaking as the held onto his head.

you came again, it was so fast you didn’t even have the time to ask.

you could feel him smiling on you.

shigaraki pinched your thigh, acknowledging your high, but showed no sign of stopping.

he maneuvered a little bit, grabbing something under the bed while still fingering you.

if you thought you were a mess before, you were wrong. because you were even more of a mess when shigaraki started rubbing around your clit with a vibrator.

your back arched and you grabbed onto the sheets, so as not to pull on shiggys hair, “pleASE. m-gonna c--um” you barely got out.

your lower body convulsing.

tears started streaming down your face, it hurt so good. “dont cum yet, baby. i want you to wait this time. like i have to wait.”

“no-oh-oh-o” you sobbed

shigaraki mustve been getting irritated because his grip on you tightened, and he pinched your inner thigh.

“please” you whimpered, running your fingers through his hair as gently as you could.

“no” he said sweetly.

your vision was starting to blur and you were still crying, “isnt this what you wanted darling?” shigaraki asked.

you only sobbed in response, you were loosing the ability to form coherent sentences.

the knot in your stomach released without warning, and you came on shigaraki’s vibrator.

with that he sighed and stood up, going to the bathroom to help you clean up.

despite your scattered brain, you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he was in agony.

“does it hurt?” you asked him between deep breaths.

refering to how bad he wanted you, and how hard he was in his pants.

he waled back in with a towel and said “yes” looking down at the ground.

“well what if we” you started.

“no, im tired of having to explain this to you.”

“please, i just want you so bad” you begged as he climbed on top pf you.

“i said no! just fucking shut up” he snapped

“why?" you whinned

he found your wrists and pinned your hands beside your head on the bed.

“everyone gets a different penalty. do you know what mine is if i fail? huh? do you want to know”

"um i-”

you went to speak but no words came out.

shigaraki leaned down “my penalty is to send the group chat a video of us having sex”

“oh” you said feeling yourself blush

he gulped and looked away “which i really dont want to do because you are mine.”

he released your wrists and fell on top of you, “youre all mine”

“please just wait 2 more weeks” he whispered into your neck.

masterlist

#mha shigaraki #yandere mha #shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #mha smut #bnha smut #lov smut #shigaraki brainrot #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki angst

1K notes · View notes

therealpussybangs · 3 years

Text

When you find out the Haikyuu boys cheated.. Pt. 2

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Starring: Timeskip!Aone, Goshiki, Kita, Lev

A/N- Tw: Cheating, crying, yelling, fighting, mentions of sexual- intercourse, swearing, please let me know if i missed anything!!

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Aone-

Today was supposed to be your 4th year anniversary with your amazing boyfriend Aone. However, that date idea had quickly turned to shit when you see your boyfriend at a booth with some other chick.

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, because you were exceptionally early to this date, so you walk over, hoping it was a sister or some other relative.

But when you finally made it over to the table, your boyfriend looked like he had seen a ghost. Pale, scared, and he looked sick. The thing that hurt the most was the guilt swimming in his eyes. Eyes that were once only for you. Eyes that were always warm and welcoming, the eyes that felt like home. His once beautiful and bright eyes were now dulled, guilty and scared.

Aone felt like he couldn’t move. He was stuck in his chair when he saw you.

‘Our date isn’t for another 20 minutes... how could this happen...?’ He thinks to himself. Then he remembers what you had said earlier about being early for the special today. He curses under his breath and opens his mouth to make excuses, but that’s when he hears a sniffle.

He reluctantly looks up to see you crying, and swiping at your eyes wildly. His heart shatters and sinks to the floor and he immediately knows he shouldn’t lie, it’ll only make it worse.

“Baby i’m so sorry....” He looks down, not ready to hear your reply. “Was i not good enough..? What should I have done differently..?” You say in a small, hurt voice.

“No! I-” He was cut off by the other girl sitting in front of him.

“Bubs who’s this ugly little girl? She a friend of yours? Or what..she kinda smells a little..” She says in a squeaky, bratty voice.

“Oh, haha; i’m actually his soon to be ex-girlfriend! So nice to meet you!! And so nice to leave you ‘bubs’!” You say with a fake smile, and filled with sarcasm.

“Babe- do-” Aone started quietly, he always was so quiet and reserved. But he seemed so talkative with this new girl....

“By Aone! Bye bitch I don’t know!” You say oh so confidently, until you go to itch your eyes. ‘oh... tears..’ You began to cry harder as you realize you just left the one thing you loved most.

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Goshiki-

You and Tsutomu had been pretty distant after a fight you two had, and you wanted to go over and apologize to him because you realized you were in the wrong.

However, what you did not expect was to see another car parked outside of your shared home.

This fight you both had was because of some silly coworker jokingly hitting on you. You had known this person since you were little, so it was nothing new. They were also fully aware of the fact that you were in a committed relationship with Tsutomu.

So, who could be at his house? Was he really hurt enough to call a friend or relative for help/advice? Now you felt really bad, so you quickly make your way up the steps to your shared home and push past the door.

What you did not expect to hear, were muffled whimpers and Goshiki’s smooth, calming voice. ‘Wh-what?’ You think maybe it was something else, maybe it was Goshiki whimpering and sniffling and someone else sweet talking him. But once you walk into your bedroom....you shut down.

“B..baby,,?” You ask, voice small. You were shaking and trying your best to keep your cool and hold back the tears threatening to spill. “Whats going on..?”

Goshiki immediately whips his head around from where it was buried between someone elses thighs. But when he sees your hurt eyes and sad features guilt pools at the bottom of his stomach. He was with someone else, on your shared bed, in your shared home. This realization suddenly hit him like a brick, and he immediately shot straight up. “I-I can explain!!”

“Explain what? The fact you were pleasuring some random whore on our bed?? What else is there to explain Tsut- Goshiki?” You yell back, the tears from before finally breaking the barrier and streaming down your face.

Goshiki just stood there, shaken up and regretful, not daring to say a word, knowing it will make things worse. But you persisted and asked him again why he did it and he started to get annoyed with your yelling. “I was angry with your stupid fucking co-worker for flirting with you and smacking your ass and always eating lunch with you!! I wanted you to know how it felt!!” He yelled back, without thinking. Bad idea.

You were speechless to say the least. He did not just compare cheating to harmless banter between friends...did he? He didn’t just call your absolute bestfriend stupid...did he?

“Get out. Both of you.” You say, your tone stone cold.

“What..” Your ex says, his voice small and shaky, almost as if it was any louder it would shatter you.

“GET OUT!! NOW!!” You say, now yelling as warm, fat tears stream down your face. You were furious, deflated, tired, and so, so done. You thought you were going to be sick. You had trusted him, and here he was, with a beautiful woman, probably 10x better than you. And to think you were going to apologize to him.

“Baby... we can fix this! right? Move forward!” He says, not so confident or angry this time.

“What, so you can go off with some other bitch as soon as the going gets tough again? No. We’re over. Goodbye Goshiki, please don’t try to contact me, i’ll have someone come get my stuff.”

And with that, you slammed the door and walked out of the place you one called home.

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Kita-

Kita was a simple man. He wanted 2 things in life: A family with you, and his rice fields to do well.

However he did not take it very well when you said you were not ready for a family, and he stormed out on you. That night you cried yourself to sleep, thinking about how you could be better.

The past month and a half, you and Kita have been pretty distant, and you have been preparing yourself for a family in any way you can. For example: Finishing the last of your extra studies, learning how to make extra delicious meals, even though Kita wasn’t ever there to try them, and you even started looking into parenting books. You just wanted to be the perfect wife for him.

So one day you waited for him to come home, ready to tell him the big news; you were ready to start a family. So when he finally got back, you told him!

“Babe! I think i’m ready for a family! With you!” You said happily and confidently. But when you saw his eyes widen in surprise, you didn’t expect them to also be oh so regretful.

“Y-you are..?” He asks, suddenly shaking. His stomach drops to the floor while his heart breaks simultaneously. You... you prepared yourself all on your own, just for him. And he knows he fucked up, getting some other girl pregnant, but he was so angry and sad he just.... it just... happened.

Just then, he gets a call, from the one person he really did not want to talk to. The other woman he got pregnant. He was so scared to pick up the phone, so you did. He froze. ‘No..! You cant pick that up...it will ruin us..’

“Hey! Shin! The baby just kicked! I hope its a girl.... Shin..?” The girl says on the other end, happy and excited.

“wh..what?” You say, confused. “Who are you..?”

“I’m his girlfriend! Who are you silly?” She says, still bubbly.

“I-” You start, and then hang up. It could not be. He did not get another woman pregnant, he was your baby, no one else...right? You slowly look over to Kita, hoping you didn’t just hear what you think you did.

He looks down, guilt and shame washing over his built figure.

“I’m so sorry... it wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did and I can’t just leave her by herself..” He says, voice gradually getting louder.

“So.. you couldn’t just wait a little longer huh...it’s okay, I hope you two will be happy.” You walked away after that, and just then was when Kita realized he was loosing you. He panicked, and reached out for your hand, but you were already gone, into the bedroom you both shared, presumably packing.

But it’s when he sees you walk out the door, tears streaming down your face, and sobs wracking you body, that reality finally shifted. You were leaving, and he was now responsible for a child that wasn’t yours. He was mortified to say the least.

“Bye Shin, i’ll always love you y’know.. I hope your child is as beautiful as you.”

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Lev-

Today was your birthday! And you were so excited to spend it with your beanpole boyfriend! But he hadn’t answered your texts yet, and your calls either. You understood he had a photo-shoot, but it was over hours ago, even his manager didn’t know where he was. So you decided to check his snapmap because you were genuinely worried??

But when you saw his bitmoji at an unrecognized address, you freaked out and drove there immediately.

When you got there, his car was parked in the driveway, and the lights were on inside. You could also hear the faint hum of soft music.

Lev was always so gentle with you, and he never raised hid voice or got angry with you. You loved that about him, how soft he was. When you guys first met, he was willing to take things slow, and wait until you were both comfortable with eachother.

He was always so patient, or so you thought. You weren’t ready for anything intimate other than kissing, and he said he was okay with that. But horny men will be horny men.

But you at least thought he could wait a little longer for you, his girlfriend of 11 months. At least those were the thoughts that flew through your head as you walked into the mystery house.

It was Lev, laid out on a bed with silk sheets, rose petals scattered everywhere, and Champaign on the nightstand next to him.

Well, more like next to the other woman in bed with him, dressed in red lacy lingerie and pretty makeup. The candle-light makes them both look so majestic, well they would if they both didn’t have shocked/guilty expressions on their faces.

Lev got up immediately and tried to grab your arm, but you shrugged him off.

“I trusted you, and I loved you, I still love you! But here you are, with another woman, on my birthday. Happy fucking birthday to me i guess.”

He stood there dumbfounded as you walked out, your confident facade breaking as tears slip down your rosy cheeks. Then, you drive away, knowing things will never be the same...

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Annnnnd it’s finally out! Not proofread i’m sorry </3 Kita’s hurt the most smh

ALSOOOO don’t forget you are fucking gorgeous and ilysm pls take care of your gorgeous self!

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

#haikyuu x reader #lev habia #kita shinsuke #goshiki tsutomu #aone takanobu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #angst #haikyuu angst #anime #cheating au #pls this hurt

490 notes · View notes

violetnotez · 3 years

Text

HC: Seeing Them Shirtless for the First Time | JJK

Should I be getting ready for work? Yes, yes I should be 💀

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Music Genre: Rock | JJK

Characters: Gojo, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Shop Owner Note: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS ONE-Gojos in particularrrrrr

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The first time you saw Gojo shirtless was during your first time being intimate with him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Gojo was just-perfect. You honestly couldn’t describe him any other way...yeah, he could sometimes be a pain in your ass with his boyish antics, but that somehow adds to that special charm he possesses. Even now, with his hands pinning yours above your head, lips molding into yours in a lustful heat, he was smiling as if he was having the time of his life. Gojo moved down from your lips, finally allowing you a second to breathe, instantly finding a spot on your neck, sucking and licking the skin as if his life depended on it. The sensation was overriding your system, your throat desperately trying to release a groan from the overwhelming sensation, intense heat traveling through your core. You felt him find the spot you were most sensitive in, that held back groan finally being stolen from your swollen lips. Embarrassment burst into your stomach, your knuckles tightening as you shifted to to the side, desperately trying to hide your face from making such a lewd reaction.

You felt Gojo chuckle against your skin, the vibration sending a shock wave throughout your spine and limbs. “Ah, Cmon doll, don’t be so shy,” he cooed, a devilish smirk encasing his features, “I like it when you make those little sounds for me.........and only me, right?” It was a taunt, a trap, and he knew it-if Gojo Satoru was anything, he was always confident in his abilities. And his ability to completely be able to control you, to keep you by his side, was no exception. Any other day, when you were thinking clearly you would Probabaly retort back with a back handed quip that would make him chuckle. But right now, with your head buzzing with adrenaline and only the thought of the way his skin felt against yours, his kisses burning into your flesh and the pulsating heat in your core...you just wanted him.

“Only you,” you whispered, voice wavering with nerves and adrenaline as your digits found the edge of his shirt, craving for more of his skin against yours. Gojo chuckled again, the sound warm and rich like molasses. Yet, his hand since again were on top of yours, now halting you in your pursuit of undressing him. “You really wanna do this doll? I’m not against it, not at all, but you dont have to-“

“I want to,” you interjected, face flushed with desperation, eyes wide with lust, “I want to so badly Gojo...I want you.” Gojo’s chest tightened at the words, a feral need exploding in his chest-god, the times he dreamed of this day and it’s finally happening...you were just too adorable, your hair tosseled from the heated make out sessions, lips puffy and skin so warm, your eyes practically begging him to devour you. How could he deny you that luxury, especially since you wanted it so much? He leaned in to your lips, digits tracing your skin in designs only he could imagine. He pulled away, mere centimeters from your skin. “You sure little one?” He asked again, using the nickname he gave you that always made you roll your eyes with a smile. It did just the trick, making you giggle at the name as you looked to the side-“I’ve always been ready, ya know.”

“Oh really?” He teased, that delicious smirk gracing his features. He leaned away from you, sitting up in the bed. “Well, I’m not too sure about that....” His digits wrapped around the hem of his shirt near his neck, pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the corner of his room. Gojo shook his hair out slightly, making the tendrils look even more chaotic than before. You felt your chest tighten by the sight of Gojo shirtless....you had imagined many times before, but seeing the real thing was way different, and way better. Gojo was built as perfectly as his personality, each muscle taught and visible in his abdomen and arms, the veins in his hand even more noticeable in the lighting. You gulped, staring at the way his sweatpants accentuated the dips of his hips, following down to the waist band of his boxers peaking out from his sweats.

Gojo noticed every gesture you made, loving how you drank in his form as he hovered over you. “Why don’t you take a picture-itll last longer,” he said as he leaned into your ear, earning a playful eye roll form you. He chuckled at your reaction, leaning back into your body, hands trailing the side of your waist. “Well if you’re not gonna take a picture....I don’t think it’s very fair that I’m the only one shirtless here....” your felt his digits find the hem of your shirt, teasingly tracing your skin under from underneath..

“So how about we change that, hm?”

The first time you saw Itadori shirtless it was by pure chance- He just cant seem to remember to bring a spare tshirt into the bathroom when he showers.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Yuuji cant seem to understand why your so flustered- he is so adorable and innocently oblivious its almost painful. Especially when he comes out of the bathroom from a shower, cotton candy pink hair still dripping with water droplets, slick adomen in full view, the “V” of his hip bones partially exposed from the band of his sweatpants. You just wanted to have a chill movie night with your boyfriend-but how can you think about choosing between a horror or a comedy when you have that in front of you? You gulp down a ball of saliva as Itadori casually talked about the different options of films, rummaging through his drawers for a clean shirt as if this was all a normal event-which it was not. Your eyes were glued onto him, drinking in every deifned dip and curve and trying to hold yourself back from thinking about...other ways this cozy date could end up....

But Yuuji knows you like the back of his hand....he knows when something is wrong with you, and you most deinfitely are not your self right now. He instantly begins to ask you questions, voice softly laced with worry. You reassure him your fine, really, but Itadori knows you way too well. He gently raises your chin with his pointer and middle finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your breathe gets hitched in your throat, brain suddenly and unbelievebaly clouded from being so so close to him, now knowing that the boyfriend you love so dearly looks like a damn god under his clothing making your heart ram against your chest. His voice was comforting and warm, eyes scanning your face for any sign of sadness or even maybe sickness.

“Whats on your mind?” he asks gently, trying to coax a response out of you so he can put his worries at ease....until he hears the words “your abs”, blurt out of your mouth at warp speed, your tone dazed and then immediately embarrassed, horror on your face for saying soemthing so honest. He blinks a few times, clearly not expecting that to come from you....but he would be lying if he didnt say he enjoyed it once it set in. A warm chuckle tumbles out of Itadori, that bright boyish grin plastered on his face. He really didnt mean to make you so flustered,..but he’s not complaining

The first time you saw Megumi shirtless was by force-he just hates being taken care of when he’s hurt.

Crimson red clumped against Megumi’s face, sticky and smeared glimpses of his pale skin glowing under the moonlight. His hair was matted down to his face from the slashes oozing out of his head, suit was slashed to bits, his ribs were killing him, and he had a limp on his left leg...but he was fine-honestly. Or that’s what he was trying to tell you...but you wouldn’t listen to a single second of the bull crap he was trying feed you. He was conflicted with emotions-on one hand, it almost annoyed him how utterly selfless you could be for him. It was 1am, the moon on its highest peak in the sky, and you were willing to play nurse for him....but on the other, it warmed him up inside that you did care so much. If he would allow himself to dwell on that emotion, he would admit-that it was .... nice....to have someone take care of him for once. He was used to bandaging each wound on his own, cleaning and disinfecting the soon to be battle scars, hissing to the walls at the pain it caused him. But with you there, you were soft, so gentle with him. Your touch was like a second adrenaline rush for him-you had yourself cradled in his lap, the skin of your thighs barely crazing his tattered uniform. Hands gently positioning his hair, pushing the wispy jet black strands away from the wounds.

“I can do this on my own,” he retorted quietly, his voice a few octaves lower from fatigue. “I bet you could..” you completely ignored him, continuing to busy yourself with closing a scrape on his skin with butterfly bandages. “-but why would I let you?” Megumi felt his breath hitch, taking a sharp breath in....any type of annoyance he felt with you being so god damn persistent instantly left his body, the only thing he can focus on was how much he loved your selfless nature-even if it could be annoying at times. But the instant he took in that deep breath, he felt a deep, guttural pain in his side, making him groan before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth. That soft gaze you had turned to worry, your hands wrapping around his face, thumbs running smooth circles on his pale skin. “Your hurt....we’re going to need to-“

“N-no, I-“Megumi stuttered out, obviously flustered by the prospect of you seeing him so bare. “I-I’m fine. I can do this on my-“ his voice was stern and cold, yet the wavering tone made any attempt of sounding firm go invalid. You gave him a small smile, your fingers still running circles against his skin, making him look at you with nervous eyes. “Megumi, you are not fine,” you stated calmly, with eyes that simply said the opposite-you were genuinely worried for him. “please...you could have broken a rib, or done soemthing to cause a lot of damage...please, Megumi, I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” You were asking him, pleading with him, and it broke Megumi in his core-he just couldn’t stand to see you look that scared for him of all people. Megumi sighed, eyes drifting down to the floor in hopes you couldn’t see his embarrassment as he gave in to you.

You helped Megumi shuffle out of his uniform, opting to cut it with some scissors halfway (as it was tattered to shreds already). Both of you were quite nervous...in your relationship, you had never down anything that would warrant for you to see each other’s body’s. So you being able to see him without a shirt felt like a huge step, even if it wasn’t such a big deal to an outsider. Once the fabric was finally off, you both sat in silence, your minds reeling. You knew Megumi was fit, but seeing exactly how much that work paid off brought heat flooding your body, your eyes focused on the way his breath contracted and relaxed his muscles, the moonlight catching the divots of his lower abdomen deliciously. Pale white Scars littered his skin from training, making his body even more mysterious to look at. Each scar was a story, some sort of battle, a lesson he had to learn...you wanted to learn about each and every one. Your hand felt drawn to them, digits slowly checking for signs of bruising, purposefully tracing those scars in order to burn them to memory. Fushigori was practically panicking, desperately trying to keep his heartrate lowered, the cool night air biting at his heated skin as your digits traced against his sides. You were only trying to detect the spots that could be damaged on his abdomen...but damn was it firing something inside him. He was feeling more comfortable like this, just relishing the feeling of your skin on his.

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

1K notes · View notes

3desiderium3 · 3 years

Text

For your love

chapter one - Rage

[ series masterlist ]

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings : reader x damiano david

story summary : damiano and reader are in very loving relationship that sometimes almost too quickly becomes too toxic for anyone likings

warning (s) for this chapter : toxic relationship / behaviour , slight angst , NSFW , adult content , smut , rage , domestic vionlence , abuse , mentions of cheating , verbal degradation , mouth fucking , oral sex , punishment , god complex , daddy kink

"And why should I trust you again? Huh?? What have you done to earn my trust ? " Damiano shouted at his beloved girlfriend which was sitting heartbroken in a chair across him.

She had her eyes puffed red from crying and ciggarete dancing between her two fingers.

The room was filled with smoke and rage. So so so much rage . This was special kind of rage.

The kind that made Y/N 's knees week and her head dizzy , this was the special kind of rage her boyfriend held behind his flaming dark eyes , the kind of rage that could only go away after him fucking her brains out.

But she knew that they had a looong night before the fucking part.

Their relationship was special. Some people questioned it sometimes. They questioned the way they would yell and fight , throw tantrums and scenes on some public places , the way Damiano would cry himself to sleep after he kicked Y/N out of their shared appartment , the way Y/N sometimes manipulate him and guilt trip him for her own needs.

They where not near the perfect couple and they stopped hiding it after a short amount of time dating.

They where flawed and broken but desperate for each others love and care.

Everyone was concerned how much they loved and cared for each other.

Tonight was a casual Thursday night filled with yelling and throwing drama around every corner.

" Will you please stop yelling , my head is gonna explode.." Y/N finally spoke with her forehead rested in her right hand . This was just another rage awakening inside of Damiano . How dare she disrespect him and all the effort he is trying to put inside this conversation?

He furrowed his eyebrows carefully licking his lips and watching her fragile figure.

She was so petite in her champagne silk night gown. She seemed so soft and fragile . Her (hair length) (hair colour) hair was all messy and her (eye colour) orbs where hidden under thick layer of wet eyelashes.

All he wanted to do now was to kiss her. To play with her hair as he was holding her onto his bare chest. To kiss every spot on her body. To make sure she never leaves him.

He wanted to. He really did. But he was so fucking angry. He forgot why in fact. All this rage blinded him.

He was always so energetic and full of adrenaline when it came to performing and putting effort in music , all thanks to his girlfriend who drove him crazy.

"Are you forgetting why am I yelling at the first place?" He questioned as he turned down his cigarette and left it's dump in an over filled ashtray. " I swear to dear God I wanna smash your head with this ashtray now. " He admitted as his eyes wondered on that very same ashtray.

So many times before he was very close to killing her. Well , at least he told himself that.

"Then fucking do it you selfish idiot. I forgot why you where yelling cause you are not capable of doing anything other than that. "

She hissed the venom right back at him.

He let out an ' I cant believe this ' annoyed short laugh , turning his head to his left side and laughing.

" If you deserved more than to be yelled at you things would go different way mio amore. "

An poisoned arrow right through her heart. Fresh tears burned her eyes as she tried hiding them away.

But her sobs gave her away. She couldn't hold it in anymore. Damiano looked in her way. Biting his tongue. This scene was a true heartbreak.

He hated her cries and sobs. He hated her pain. He wanted to be the one to protect her and hide her from all the pain in this world. Yet again he was the only thing that caused her suffer.

Damiano was so afraid that she would betray him and his love that he found this as the only way to keep her close.

He knew all her weaknesses and soft spots. All that there was to know about Y/N he knew.

" How can this be the same man I feel in love with 2 years ago? " She said in a cracked voice filled with misery and sorrow. Each sentence she spoke was tearing his heart and soul apart.

" When did you stopped loving me you possessive asshole?!" Her voice was barely strong enough to even compare to his. " And when did you started being such a greedy bitch huh Y/N?"

Damiano was sitting laid back in his chair with crossed hands on his chest. Smirk on his face , eyes so dark you could drown in them. " Since you stopped being enough. "

'That's it' Y/N thought . ' He is either gonna strangle me right here on the spot , or make me regret my entire life. '

Damiano's face went pale. Y/N knew him better than himself. She knew that he only cared for being good enough to her. He only wanted to prove himself worthy of her.

He stood up as rage took control over his body. The veins on his neck ready to explode , gripping his godly sculpted jaw tightly , he had enough rage inside of him to demolish the entire country.

Damiano made his way towards her. She was now watching him obediently. As soon as he came close enough he fiercely and unexpectedly gripped her jaw.

She tried gasping at this sudden movement. He cupped her small face with his right veiny hand , gripping it hard enough for her to squirm under him. Y/N tried to separate his hand from her face with both of hers hands but no use.

He was towering her with half closed eyes and no emotion on his face left. " I will make you regret the day you walked in my life. " His tumb parted her lips with ease, since she was already seduced by his cold charm , then he slowly gathered some of his salvia inside of his mouth as he watched her eyes realise new pair of tears making him slightly aroused , he spat his fluid inside of her warm mouth closing them as he gripped her jaw with his nails.

" You think I stopped being enough?" He paused as he pressed his nails deeper inside of her cheeks earing a silent whimper. " Well baby you where never good enough. "

She knew he was being mean on purpose. She knew he didn't mean it. But..

Those sinister eyes gave her troubles. She was never fully capable of reading them. They where always a puzzle.

" Tho I gotta be honest darlin'.." He started unbuckling his belt with his left hand as the smile on his face grew wider. " The only thing you where always good in was taking my flesh inside those pretty slutty mouth of yours.." The sentence was finished and followed by his fingers playing with her lips.

" Are you gonna be a good slut and take me again so well baby?"

Oh gosh.. How could anyone say no to that?? To him.. And those eyes..

Y/N nodded , feeling herself drooling at the sight of bulge inside of his pants as he was palming himself glaring down on her.

Just when her hands where about to grab the waist of his pants he gripped her hair with his left hand aggressively earing an small yelp from her.

" You wont get anything from me if you don't start talking amore.. Tell me once again if I'm not good enough." A smirk appeared on Damiano's patient face.

" You are even more than good enough for me master." A sharp hair pull was followed after that. Damiano was slowly getting bigger in his pants but also was getting pissed very soon with her dumbness.

" That's not what I heard. " He was teasing. He was pulling her hair at some of his desired speed and in some of his desired directions as he sharply slapped her face twice.

" But don't worry love.. I will make you regret everything." He was so sure in his words.

And so was Y/N. She knew him and that he was more than willing to go all night on corrupting her.

" I will fuck those dirty unpolite little mouth of yours so good you will never speak properly again."

His hand that was cupping her hair pulled her down onto her knees violently after which he was allowing her to unbuckle his pants to the end.

Almost eagerly her hands flew towards him to unwrap the thing she is logging for ..

He watched her from above , with lust and domination running one of his hands tru his brown hair. Y/N gave him a soft innocent look as her hands slowly pulled his boxers down.

Her fingers brushing over his bare velvety smooth skin sending her shivers down her neck.

Y/N looked so gentle and angelic in her full submission.

Damiano carrased her hair interlocking his fingers in it. Knowing he would have to tug it harshly if she continues to be so slow with her actions.

Finally as she finished with stripping him teasingly his hard member stood straight against his lower stomach , some of precum already visible on the tip.

Y/N wrapped her fingers firmly around him just as he liked it , licking it from its bottom all the way up to his pink tip . Feeling all the veins on his length and every throb and shake her tongue caused.

She made two swirls to gather all that pearly wetness earning a low groan from her lover.

Damiano was now in blissful agony enjoying her teasing while now starting to grip her hair harder.

" If you continue with this speed I will not be in charge of your bruised throat.. I wanna abuse that hole cause it's only purpose is to be in my possession."

Dear God he was so good with his words. His italian accent only adding the flavour to his sharp sour voice .

Y/N understood his warning , after making his member wet enough she slide him into her mouth slowly , she felt his full length stretching her jaw and they both knew she always needed time for her to adjust to him.

But did he care for that actually?

Especially now when he is so mad at her?

His hand pushed her head roughly onto his throbbing cock , holding her in place as she was letting out gags being left with no oxygen in her mouth. Her eyes looked up to meet his face that had a mean smirk . Tears running down her face as she was being held in place under his dominant power.

Damiano's hand was guiding her by her hair at some certain peace. Her head was going up and down on his length , even tho his tip didn't hit back of throat again that hard.

She choked out on her spit and his precum , when he realised her mouth she gasped for air thick string of salvia connecting her plump wet lips and his covered in her droll cock.

He was chuckling again. Laughing at her dumb face.

'Oh baby.. I am just getting started with you..'

With his right thumb he caressed her flaming red cheek, his hand prints still visible from his previous slaps.

He took his member into his left hand slapping her mouth and cheeks leaving thick wet marks and leaving her gasping and blinkin in sudden movement.

" I am growing very impatient with you. "

Damiano started pushing her head now much faster onto him , not letting her adjust once again. " It's bout time I put you in your place once again. " She picked the peace a bit quicker now, bobbing her head up and down , often gagging.

Her boyfriend hissed at her speed , resting his body weight on his left palm that was pressed against the wall.

The room was filled with sloppy noises , Y/N's melodic gags , smell of raw sex and aggressive romance.

"Such a good fucking girl.." Damiano hissed through his gritted teeth now holding her head in his hands thrusting his hips violently in her mouth. He was sparkling in sweat and his mouth feel open as his eyes where closed and his eyebrows furrowed.

Y/N was leaving marks on his thighs with her nails and her salvia was dripping down her chin.

Her eyes hitting the back of her head in the same rhythm as his tip was hitting the back of her throat.

"I am close don't you fucking dare to stop."

She didn't dare not to obey . Her knees where trembling and pool of dampness was soaking her silk underwear. Tears running down her face and mixing with some slight sweat.

"Oh God.. So fucking warm and obedient.. So fucking pathetic and good.. All for me.. All for me to use and love"

His romantic way of speaking those violent words made her heart orgasm.

Damiano was throwing his head back while gripping her sculp harder going faster on her mouth as his member was pulsing and he could feel hot rush in his veins.

Y/N felt him shaking inside of her and felt him twitching not long before he released thick ropes of his hot juice inside her warm wet mouth.

Damiano was panting and breathing hard.She tried pushing herself back from him feeling like she once again was choking with no air left.

" You will stay like this until I say so. " He held her head in place. " Such a good slut. Taking me so well. I will pull out now and don't you fucking dare slip some of my cum out of those filthy mouth. "

He caressed her head , gulping his salvia loudly as his chest rose up and down.

After which he pulled his dick out of her mouth slowly watching as it was coming out all shiny from juices mixed with her spit and his cum.

It was such a lovely sight for him seeing her red face , messy hair and eyes dark from lust. She was holding his seed inside of her mouth slowly gulping every drop of it. She opened her mouth and slowly panted.

"Open your mouth wider, show me if you obeyed me."

She did as she was told and showed him how good she was for him. She loved him. She always did everything she could to satisfy him.

He smiled softly . His eyes soft again watching her with some unexplained emotion.

He kneeled down on her level , once again cupping that face he loved so much , but this time his intention was gentle and caring. He kissed her forehead before meeting her lips and softly licking it asking for forgiveness.

He parted from her tilting his head to the side. How much he adored her eyes . Not just her eyes. He adored her and everything about her.

While sharing such meaningful and special moment it didn't matter at all that they where fighting and yelling the whole day at each other. What mattered was that he was hers and she was his.

"Come here amore." He cooed , sitting down on the floor in front of her instead of kneeling , pulling her on his lap by his hands.

Y/N wrapped her legs around his torso , letting her head rest on his shoulder , head buried in his soft neck. He hugged her body tightly. Rubbing if softly , kissing her hair and nuzzling onto her.

They stayed like this on the floor in each others embrace , not speaking , just breathing , just listening to each others heartbeats.

" I am sorry. " " I am the one that should apologize. " " You know that I could never leave you.. I love you more than myself. "

" I know mio amore.. I know.. "

A/N NOTE : This is my first time writing on this platform and this kind of fiction , I rlly hope u gon like it and please leave a heart if you do ! <33 Also English is not my first language sry if there are grammar mistakes !

#damiano david #eurosong #maneskin #eurovison 2021 #eurovision italy #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #relationship #fanfic #toxic behavior #toxic relationship #slight nudity #slight angst #smut #måneskin

608 notes · View notes

bowdownbucky · 3 years

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 , 𝐁𝐀𝐃 !

part two!

summary- you have an encounter with rebecca barnes older brother.

warnings- kissing, slight language and hickeys.

pairings- innocent! reader x college! bucky barnes

bye— i had a dream about this and i deciddd to make it a reality. lemme know if you want an actual story cause there is more to this!! not proof read(sry!)

you and rebecca barnes had been best friends for as long as you can remember, but what you don’t know was that she had an older brother. his name was james but everyone called him bucky, bucky first grasped you attention when you and rebecca were putting flyers around the school for you homecoming dance.

you passed becca the bright flyers, watching her on the ladder as she taped them to the walls. “so i booked our hair appointments at ten? is that good?” becca asked you, you often had a habit of drifting off into space but rebecca quickly put you back on earth. “hello! earth to y/n! i swear it’s like i’m talking to a brick wall.”

“sorry bexs, hair appointment, ten, got it.” she rolled her eyes at you. you and rebecca have small conversations until a loud voice bellows through the hallway. “rebecca what the hell?” you watched as a brunette with pretty blue eyes walks toward you. rebecca climbs down the ladder with her hands on her slender hips.

“what do you want bucky? cant you see i’m busy.” rebecca pointed at you and the flyers, bucky eyed you up and down but didn’t pay you any kind. “would you hurry up! i got somewhere to be.” bucky huffed.

“yeah, like smoking pot with your shitty friends is so important. why are you here anyway? i told you to pick me up at seven.” you stay silent as bucky and becca bicker back and forth, you never knew of bucky’s existence and wonder why becca never mentioned him.

“do i look like a chauffeur? hurry up.” bucky rushed his sister. rebecca turned to you and gave you a big hug. “do you need a ride?” you shook your head. “no, steve is picking me up later.” rebecca wiggled her eyebrows at you. you and steve weren’t super serious but you did claim each other, well you claimed him.

“tell me all the deets later!” rebecca gushed. “there won’t be anything to tell, he’s just taking me home.” rebecca rolled her blue eyes and waved goodbye as she caught up with bucky. what you don’t realize was that bucky had gotten a couple glances at you but somehow you were too naive to notice.

friday rolled around and you were sleeping over at the barnes house, you were excited about homecoming, considering it would be your last one as a highschooler. rebecca showed you her dress, which was a pretty pale blue which matched her eyes. you admired your best friend, she was pretty and what every guy wanted, you were her sidekick and you were okay with it. “i like it but i want mom to add some more sparkles and make a cute slit.” becca explained to you. you normally let becca talk for most of your sleepovers, she never really let you get a word in and she always had something to say.

“i’m gonna go see if mom is up to make a few adjustments to my dress. be right back. make yourself at home y/n” you nodded, painting you nails white. you curse to yourself when you over painted your nails, you walked through the hallways, as you made your way to the bathroom you admired the family photos the barnes had placed on a accent table.

you pick up a picture of bucky, seeing him smile made you feel warm inside. he looked just like his mother, the same blue eyes and cheeky smile. you carefully place the picture down and approached the brown bathroom door which was cracked. you opened the door only to become wide-eyed, seeing bucky inhale the smoke coming from his joint. “oh-sorry! t-the door was cracked. i assumed no one.” bucky held his hand up to cut you off from speaking. you immediately shut up not wanting to upset him.

“no worries. shit the door would ya?” you slowly pushed the door close behind you, you mind was telling you to run but you body stayed, intrigued but the boy i from of you. “this is the only place i can get some alone time, mom is always asking about college and dad is going on about finding a job. kinda hard to get high in my room.” he said, blowing smoke out of the window. “so how’s your stay at casa de barnes?” you didn’t dare look at how red his eyes were. you stared at the ground.

“not the talkative type huh? kinda hard to imagine you and my sister as friends. she never shuts up.” bucky released the joint from his lips and held it out to you. “how rude of me, go ahead.” you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. you closed it and shook your head.

“good girl, wouldn’t want to ruin you.” you knees almost bucked at his words. you didn’t even know him and he already had you wrapped around his fingers. “so you going to the home coming dance?”

“y-yes, i’ve b-been planning with beck.” you suprised your self when you spoke. you don’t know how you could speak but he had a hold on you and you were stuck in the bathroom fo. with him for the time being. “miss that stuff to be honest, me and the guys used to have so much fun. and the girls, so nervous, wait g for guys to dance with them. but the girls now are different. they don’t have that innocence anymore.” bucky eyes you up and down like you were his next meal. “well some of them don’t.”

he stood up and you hitched your breath, suddenly afraid to breath around him. he made you nervous but he liked it. it kept you on your toes. he walked up to you, dangerously close, you felt his breath fawning over you you, a mixture of weed and cherry suckers. he reached his hand behind you, locking the door. “wouldn’t want to get caught now would we?” his hand traced yours as he drew another hit from his joint. he blew the smoke into you face expecting you to flinch but you stood tall, face to face with him.

he hummed at you, you wish you could enter his mind and figure out what he was thinking. “you know, there’s something about you. you’re not like becca, all prissy and shit. you’re pure, i bet you’ve never ever been kissed before, ain’t that right doll?” he was mocking you and you liked it. you nodded and his smirk grew wider. he moved closer to you which you don’t think was possible. “i bet you taste nice and sweet. you wouldn’t mind if i had a taste right?” he taunts.

before you could speak his lips, brushed over yours. you couldn’t believe you’d be having your first kiss with your best friend‘a brother. he now had his lips fully enclosed on yours, you could taste a hint of vodka on his lips and it was bitter but the bitterness was overpowers by the sweetness of the cherry sucker. he kissed you deeply, his left hand leaving his side and coming to you like a rocket heading to space. his hand touches your waist, lifting you shirt a bit so he could feel your soft skin.

he nudged his leg between your thighs, feeling you pulsating core on his leg. you gasped at the feeling, giving bucky access to slipping his tongue into your mouth. he roamed you mouth like he was trying to find treasure. he moaned into the kiss, pushing you back and forth against him, creating a hot friction to his thought and your hot core. you let out a tiny moan, you could feel him smirk on your lips.

he removed himself from you now red lips and kissed down from your jawline to your neck. “wait, i-i have a boyfriend.” you knew it was wrong of you but steve never was touched you like this, it wa as new experience and you didn’t want it to stop.

“shhh babydoll, i’ll take care of you.” he sucked on you neck leaving dark purple and red bruised, your blank canvas would be littered with his touch. you didn’t want the feeling of euphoria to stop but it sadly had too when rebecca knocked on the door. “y/n would you hurry up? i need you to paint my nails.”

#bucky barnes headcanon #marvel imagines #winter solider imagine #avengers endgame #college!bucky #bad boy! bucky barnes #stoner!bucky #bucky barnes smut

298 notes · View notes

nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Text

Camboy Nagito - Nagito Komaeda x Reader

ミ☆ Sorry this is so short but i had to get it out of my head so i can focus on other stuff aha Description: Your friend Nagito is secretly moonlighting as a camboy on OnlyFans. You accidently catch one of his live streams. Warnings: Explicit sexual content, fem reader, no prounouns used, Word count: 1149

You are supposed to be out on a date, but the guy flaked only an hour before the two of you were supposed to meet up. You are annoyed, slumped back on your couch in your nicest dress, wearing your nicest makeup and ready to just order pizza and call it a failure of an evening.

Hajime and Chiaki are both out at an arcade, and you really don’t feel like getting changed to go meet them, and Nagito was very apologetic when he told you that he had other plans tonight. You were hoping he would be happy to play Stardew Valley for a few hours, but if he’s busy, he’s busy.

So. It’s going to be a pizza and anime night.

You huff and kick your heels off in the direction of your bedroom, planning to pick them up later and grab your phone to order some garbage ‘za from your local haunt. Only to see a message for one of your high school friends.

She lives overseas now, so you don’t get a chance to talk very often, and she hasn’t had time to meet any of your new college friends either. It’s a bummer, you can tell that she and Ibuki would get on like a house one fire.

Bestie: “Oi. I know you said you don’t usually watch this junk, but I stg, this new guy is exactly ur type. Pls watch…...for me??????”

You sigh goodnaturedly. She stalks OnlyFans like she needs it to breathe, and often sends you...recommendations. None of them have really met the mark as of yet.

You: “Since when do you know my type? The last three guys you sent me were super not it.”

Bestie: “Yeah but this guy is different!!!!!! ;P Just check the link. He’s live now. I STG u will lov him!!!!!!”

Well. It isn’t like you have anything better to do. Deciding to come back and order pizza later, you tap on the link. Worst case scenario you hate the guy and close the window, order your pizza and get this night over with. Best case scenario, you get to cum. Pretty decent turn out either way.

Feeling a little optimistic, you ease the hemline of your dress further up your thigh, hoping that this guy is actually your type, and not just some-

The live feed finishes loading.

You freeze.

Eyes running up a length of pale thigh, splayed open wide as a delicate hand languidly pumps at a twitching, blush pink cock. Chest heaving, glittering with sweat in the soft pink lighting from LEDs behind his head, hair plastered to his forehead. A second hand reaches up and circles a nipple, perfect pink lips drop open in a moan.

It’s Nagito.

It can’t be.

But it is.

When he said he was busy tonight, was this what he was talking about? You can’t help wondering how long he has been doing this for.

His thumb brushes the head of his cock and he mewls.

Because he is very good at it.

Something about this feels perverse. Watching your friend writhing and jerking himself off for the camera, panting and moaning with his eyes squeezed shut.

At least he isn’t looking at you.

You subsciously rub your thighs together, clamping your lip between your teeth as the hand on his chest slowly starts travelling down his torso, across his stomach, over his hips and down to-

“No way…” you breathe

He slips a finger inside of himself, and your resolve breaks. You hike your dress the rest of the way up, shoving a hand down into your panties and frantically circling your swollen clit. You’re already soaked. This is disgusting, this is horrible.

Nagito pushes in a second finger and throws his head back in a strangled moan.

You grit your teeth to ignore the shame, and press on your clit even harder.

His hips are moving, writhing, doing anything they can to both cant up into the tight grip of his hand and forward into his penetrating fingers. You can see his knees trembling, his tongue lolling out of his wide open mouth as he whimpers and moans. His porcelain cheeks are flushed bright red and you can’t help wishing that you were the one touching him-

No! Don’t think about that! Not right now!

You force yourself to focus only on his body on the screen. To keep any of your weird emotional stuff disconnected. It isn’t so weird if you just jerk off to him, right? He’s filming it after all, that makes it okay, right?

A third finger slips inside of Nagito’s ass and you let out a shuddering moan. His eyes finally pop open, perfect and green as they always have been, drifting downward until he is staring directly into the lens of the camera. Directly at you. This should make you feel horrible, feel perverted and disgusting, but it doesn’t; somehow the eye contact only makes your insides tighten more. The feeling that he is watching you, that he wants you to see him, to hear him, to finger yourself while you watch him.

He grips his cock tighter, pumping faster, fingers thrusting in and out at a brutal pace as he continues staring forward dead into the camera.

You speed up too. Gasping and moaning at the sight of him, and when he lets out a guttural moan, back arching and cum splattering across his bare stomach. You follow.

Squeezing your eyes shut as the tightness in your belly finally snaps, throwing your head backwards into the cushions of your couch and cumming hard; harder than you have in a very long time.

You just lay there for a minute, the hand holding your phone flopping lifelessly down on the couch next to you as you try to catch your breath.

“Aha. Thank you for watching everyone!” You jump at the sound of Nagito’s voice coming from your phone. Quickly muting it before he has a chance to say anything else.

For some reason, hearing him speak makes it finally cement in your brain that this really is Nagito. The polite guy who sits next to you in your most boring lecture, the guy who you play bad video games with online and the guy who for the past few months, you have been nursing some sort of feelings for.

You sneer at yourself, disappointed at what you let yourself do. So as you shimmy out of your soiled panties with one hand, you send Nagito a generous tip with the other. It’s the least you can do.

What you don’t realise, is that when you first signed up for OnlyFans a few months ago, you signed up with the same username that you used for steam.

And that Nagito is now sitting wide eyed as he stares at the tip he just received from someone who can only be you.

#nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #danganronpa x reader

127 notes · View notes

catboynecromancy · 3 years

Text

Adam and Ronan get themselves in a mid-sex predicament underneath the cut (NSFW)

“That’s – fuck, yeah – right there – right there – right fucking there – dammit!”

The raspy, stilted way Ronan moans out the words between each of his thrusts is almost too much to bear. Adam is already getting dangerously close to climax, edging exponentially closer each time he pounds into Ronan’s tight hole. “Fuck,” he gasps, his grip on the other boy’s hips tightening until it’s likely to leave tiny, finger-shaped bruises. “You feel so good, Ronan. So fucking good, all for me.”

Beneath him, Ronan whimpers and squirms with delight. His back arcs off the mattress, canting his hips to meet Adam halfway with every push. “God, Adam, I’m close. Don’t stop–”

Adam is happier to hear that than he probably should be. He’s been putting in the work, sinking into Ronan at a near merciless pace for a while now and, though fucking Ronan is almost always mindblowing, the need to get off supersedes anything else at this point. Choppy, dusty brown locks cling to Adam’s temples and forehead from sweat, skin feverish, flushed red, and glistening with perspiration. “Touch yourself,” he demands in a low growl. When Ronan doesn’t immediately do this, Adam leans down to press his mouth to the shell of his ear, panting against it. “Now.”

This earns him a pitchy whine, loud and utterly wrecked. Ronan peels his hand from where he’d been grasping at the sheets for dear life, fingers wrapping around his cock and tugging in a stunted attempt at jerking off. Adam cannot see his efforts, but he can feel Ronan’s knuckles brushing against his stomach, and hear how his breathing hitches as he works himself closer, closer, closer.

“That’s a good boy,” Adam huffs into his ear. He licks a strip up the ridged flesh, hips snapping in especially hard, and Ronan keens from the attention. “You wanna come for me, baby?”

Ronan makes another strangled sound, nodding. His jerking becomes even more erratic, desperate in his attempt to get off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah – Adam?”

His fingers dig harsher into soft flesh over bony hips, holding Ronan steady as he fucks faster, rougher, with the intention of guiding them both through a, hopefully, intense orgasm. Adam finds himself at a loss for words so he moans in response, gently knocking his head against Ronan’s and staying there.

“Adam,” Ronan says, again, although this time it sounds much more like he’s invoking God. The hand not working at himself reaches up, wrapping around Adam’s sweaty shoulders, holding him close. “Oh, fuck, I –” He groans, tilting to nuzzle his face into Adam’s. “I – love – you –”

“I love you, Ronan –”

There’s a long moment where it’s just the wet sound of Adam sinking into Ronan, over and over, mixed with their moans and futile gasps for air. Ronan’s muscles begin to tense, a telling sign he’s nearly there, and it’s then he says, “We should – get married.”

“What?” Adam thinks it might be a good idea to stop, force Ronan to explain himself, ask what the hell? But he’s almost there, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to come in Ronan’s ass after all the effort he’s put in getting to this point.

Ronan gives a particularly vulgar noise. His nails drive into the back of Adam’s shoulder, holding on. “Marry me,” He says with more force than before, like he really, truly means it.

Maybe he does.

Fuck.

Adam doesn’t have the brain capacity to figure it out. All he can think of is the aching need to get off, how he’s hot all over, and the friction as Ronan envelops every inch of his dick. There are multitudes of Adam Parrish and this is one of them – a teenage boy, addicted to his insufferably hot boyfriend, the pleasure he can derive from his often pliant body, the rush of adrenaline at climax, and the endorphins that follow. “Yes,” he responds, although it might be more about the way he’s feeling than an actual answer.

“Really?”

“Yes, yes, yes –”

“Oh, fucking God.”

“Louder,” Adam groans. “Really wanna hear you, baby boy.”

With a slow, rolling moan, Ronan gives in. He comes hard and unabashed and every bit as viciously as Adam wants. His body jerks, muscles tightening around Adam, totally uncontrolled, while he fucks Ronan through it. Hot, sticky cum paints their stomachs and Adam lets himself go, then, too. With more rough thrusts, his own orgasm washes over Adam and he allows himself to spill deep inside of Ronan in a way that makes his thoughts go mineminemine.

He moves slow, careful, relishing the now much wetter slide before coming to a complete stop. Adam presses his forehead to Ronan's, burning sweaty skin to burning sweaty skin, eyes closed and trying to catch his breath. They stay like that, silent save for their heavy pants for air, and Adam is calm, happy, head clear of all thoughts except for relief.

It would last longer, probably, if Ronan didn't start squirming awkwardly underneath him. Adam squints one eye open but all he sees is blurry pale, speckled skin and dark lashes. "What are you doing?" He asks, trying not to sound exasperated, but he's tired and all he really wants is to roll off of Ronan and take a nap.

"Nothing," Ronan grunts out, but he doesn't stop moving like he's having a difficult time staying still.

"Ronan, tell me."

"I'm just excited."

Adam blinks, curious and a little confused. "About?"

"We're engaged."

"We're…" Adam trails off and a heavy pit of apprehension behind to form in his stomach. "What?"

"Engaged," Ronan repeats. "I asked. You said yes."

"I…"

Adam stops to think, rewind his thoughts back a few minutes. Realization smacks him in the face and he shifts up, staring down at Ronan with wide, blue eyes. "That wasn't an actual proposal."

"No, it was." Ronan stares back, his expression serious. He's beautiful in his intensity, with his steady, ice-cold gaze, the slightest curl up of his lips, and skin gleaming from exertion. "I really meant it," he pauses and asks in a much smaller voice, "You didn't?"

"We can't be engaged."

"Why not?"

"We are only nineteen!"

"Your point being?" God, he's so haughty and self-righteous and sure of himself. Adam hates it and loves it.

Adam finally shifts back and tosses himself down next to Ronan on the bed, glaring up at the ceiling as he considers what his point actually is. "We're too young," he says, tapping fingers on his still lightly heaving ribcage. "And we haven't even been dating a year."

"I've been dating you in my head a lot longer than that," Ronan replies with such confidence, it's as if what he's saying isn't really fucking weird.

"That doesn't count. Also, yikes."

"Yikes?"

"One hundred percent, yikes to the max."

"You don't love me? You don't want to marry me?"

And there it is. Adam flips onto his side so he can look at Ronan, whose head is tilted towards him. "I do. Someday."

"What's the difference between now and someday if you're already planning on it?”

He opens his mouth and shut it, brows furrowing. Adam hates that Ronan has a point, hates that a part of him feels excitement at the thought of being contractually attached to him, hates how he wants to flip Ronan over, fuck him, make him ask it all over again while he's inside his ass just so he can really take it all in.

"This is ridiculous," Adam says instead. "You're being ridiculous."

"You're being ridiculous, Parrish."

"I can't stand you sometimes."

Ronan gives his typical jackal's laugh. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Adam pushes him. Ronan shifts onto his side so he can return it, harder than the one given. They end up in a tangle of long limbs and sweaty bodies, with Adam struggling for control, and Ronan ultimately winning. He gets Adam pinned underneath his broader, more muscular form, slots between his legs, holding his hands together helplessly above his head. No matter how much Adam struggles, he can't get free, and his arousal begins to build once more as Ronan grinds down on him.

"The worst," Adam moans, lids fluttering as he tries and fails again to free himself.

Ronan leans down, nestling his face to Adam's good ear. "You love it," he whispers in a raspy, sexy tone. "You wanna marry me so bad, you're just afraid to look stupid."

"Yeah," Adam agrees, desire clouding his thoughts. "Fuck, yeah."

"We'll lie and tell everyone we're doing it to get you on my insurance."

"Wait, you have insurance?"

"Not what you should be focusing on right now."

Adam makes a soft groan of assent. "Okay, insurance, whatever. Just – fucking – keep going."

Ronan rolls his hips lazily, laughing. "So needy."

He doesn't bother arguing because he is needy and, maybe, just stupidly obsessed with Ronan enough to go through with this horrible idea.

They'll come up with some believable excuse for the sudden engagement, allowing Adam to win in two ways. He gets to call Ronan his fiancé, and no one will think he's as much of an idiot as he is.

#pynch #trc #the raven cycle #ronan lynch #adam parrish #notsfw #this is a crack fic #my fic

131 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

Can you do Daichi x male reader where Daichi asks his boyfriend to come over to meet his team and he forgets and goes home so Daichi give him a call and is like "where you at?" "I cant come I look like a clown." "I bet you dont look that bad." "No you dont get it im in full drag." So his boyfriend comes to the gym in full drag, booby and butt pads, and monster heels, and when he walked in it's like Kags that recognizes him as his drag name.

LMAOOJSKE DRAG QUEEN READEKRNRNF

——————

Daichi x reader - DRAG QUEEN?!

⚠️warnings - drag queen, college first year reader x high school 3rd year (if that’s even a warning skdjd)

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

Daichi said it on impulse, really.

“Do you guys...wanna meet my boyfriend?”

Everyone in the gym stopped. They were in middle of a practice match between themselves, and just when Yamaguchi was about to serve, he choked on air and missed the ball completely. The ball flew in the air, before landing somewhere near his feet.

Everyone stared at Daichi with a variety of expressions. Some shocked, some looking at him like he ‘said I’m gonna chop my dick off,’ and some who didn’t even care. (Tsukishima, obviously.) Ukai had to call timeout, since no one could focus after what Daichi blurted out.

Suga chuckled awkwardly, slinging a towel over his shoulders. “So uh, ahaha, your um...gay...?” His voice progressively died down into a whisper.

“Yeah. Is...that’s a problem?”

“No! No! I fully support y-“

“AND YOU CHOSE NOW TO TELL US? DUDE, WE COULD’VE LIKE, THROWN YOU A COMING-OUT PARTY!” Tanaka shook his captaincy the shoulders, while Noya squirted water into his mouth with his squeeze bottle.

“Well I don’t really mind, I’m already out, I was just asking if you wanted to meet him.”

“DO WE?! OF COURSE WE DO! DOES HE PLAY VOLLEYBALL?! DO YOU THINK HE COULD JOIN THE TEAM?!” Hinata jumped up and down, slowly inching is way towards Daichi with an awestruck look on his face. He’s rather surprised Hinata isn’t more shocked.

“Yeah. Uh-no, sorry. He doesn’t play.” Daichi chuckled, patting an excited looking hinata on the head. “I don’t think he has work tomorrow, so tomorrow’s really the only time he can come to practice.”

“Work?” Asahi looked up from the towel he was using to wipe off his sweat. “How old is he? Is he a third year?”

“He’s a first year in college. Actually-I think he goes to the college in Sendai.”

Asahi exhaled. It would’ve been weird if someone as young as a highschooler were to already be working, when the could be enjoying their time in classes or clubs. “Where does he work?”

Flashbacks of all the drag shows and money being thrown around a stage whipped across Daichis mind like a slap to the face. He’s sure the team wouldn’t mind, especially because they already don’t mind him having a boyfriend, but he isn’t sure if (Y/n) was ok with him telling his team he was a...y’know.

“...I’m not sure?”

————

“Oh-hello Daikkun! How was practice today?” (Y/n) opened the passenger seat to his door, waiting for him to step inside. Sometimes he liked to pick him up from school before he had to get in makeup for a night show. That didn’t stop him from doing a little bit of eyeliner, though.

“It was nice. I told them they could meet you soon. The team.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you don’t have any shows tomorrow, right? I kind of told them tomorrow.” Daichi scrubbed at the back of his neck, while (y/n) started up his car. “I know you’ve wanted to meet them.”

“You bet your ass! Well-I mean I have a show at like 2 am but that doesn’t matter. What time can I come? Are they nice? Didn’t you say there was one who was really short but could jump as high as me in stilettos?”

“Oi-! Focus on the road!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just excited. Anyways! Can you come to my show tonight? I’ll sneak you in.”

“Every time I go to one of your drag shows I get scared someone will kick me out since I’m 17.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself?!” (Y/n) gestures over to Daichi, putting emphasis on his thigh-region. “You’re big and muscly enough to at least pass as 18. It’s just a one year difference, when’s your birthday again?”

“I can’t believe you forgot, I’m hurt.” Daichi chuckled, fiddling with his backpack straps on his lap. “Besides, doesn’t your show run kind of late today? I don’t get to choose when to take my classes like you, (L/n). And I have morning practice, so I need to sleep.”

“You’re no fun, Daikkun.”

“Yeah, yeah, My house is over there.”

————

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone for the nth time that day. Fanning himself dramatically, he huffed and buried his face into his pillow. There was nothing to do today, and since he took morning classes, that left him with the rest of the afternoon to ponder, before working at night.

Was there something to do today? Was he forgetting something? He felt like he was, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He glanced guilty at a tube of light pink lip gloss tossed haphazardly on his desk. A light bulb went off in his head.

Hastily throwing his covers off his body, (y/n) dragged himself over to his closet, grabbing the lip gloss in the process. He shuffled through hangers of clothes, finally pulling out a girls uniform he bought from when he was in high school. He never wore it to school, choosing to wear the boys uniform, but he thought it’d be nice to have when he was feeling fruity.

Slipping on the skirt and cardigan, he walked over to his desk mirror. He unscrewed the wand from the tube of lip gloss, tentatively applying it generously to his lips. He shrugged. He figured he could do some more makeup. It’s not like he’s busy today, right?

Carefully winging the tip of his eyeliner, he took a step back and admired himself in the mirror. He looked cute, yeah, but cute wasn’t really his style. It screamed ‘cute femboy’ rather than his usual ‘sexy ass drag queen dominatrix who could step on you with their sharp ass knife heels’

Damn. He was really about to go all out, huh? Time to bring out the butt pads and fake boobs.

————

Sighing contently in front of the mirror, (y/n) did a little spin, puffing out the length of his dress. Damn, he was hot. And with his impossibly high monster heels? Take me now.

(Y/n) was in the midst of taking a couple cute selfies in front of his full length mirror, when his screen went grey and a caller ID appeared.

‘Incoming call - Daikkun!! <3’

(Y/n) smiled unconsciously and clicked the bright green button with his thumb. He brought his phone to his ear and twirled a piece of his faux wig with his finger.

“Hi Daikkun! Did you need something, cutie?”

“Are you still coming over?” Daichis voice was hushed, and the slam of volleyballs rang though his speaker.

“Uh-what for?”

“To meet my team? Where are you?”

Fuck.

(Y/n) paled as he eyed himself in the mirror. He couldn’t show up looking like that. And it was too much to take off before Daichis practice ended. This was the only time he had to meet this team Daichi had always been talking about, and he’d completely forgot.

“...I can’t, I look like a clown.” (Y/n’s) voice came out a hoarse, nervous-chuckly whisper. He could taste the expensive red lipstick sitting on his lips.

“I’m sure you don’t look that bad.”

“Dude no, you don’t understand.” (Y/n) picked at the hem of his dress, the silicone boobs suddenly squeezing his chest a bit too tightly. “I’m in full drag.”

A silence rang out from both sides of the line. Daichi awkwardly chuckled.

“Ahaha uh-didn’t you say you didn’t have work today?”

“No! No I-I don’t have work til like-later later but like-I got bored and I forgot I was gonna meet your team today...sorry-“

“Well I’m sure they won’t mind if you show up in drag. I mean-they seemed pretty ok with knowing we’re a thing so...?”

(Y/n) gulped.

“...I guess I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

—————

“Good work everyone!”

Ukai dismissed the players, leaving them to start rolling up the net and cleaning up the gym. Sugawara jogged up to the captain, dragging his mop lazily behind him.

“You said your boyfriend was gonna come today, right? Where is he?”

“Uh,” Daichi checked his wrist, before realizing he didn’t have a watch and fished out his phone. “He should be here any minute now-“

Just in time, the doors to the gym creaked open. Daichi smiled, leaving Suga to trail behind him curiously. He reached for the door handle, giving it a firm pull.

In stepped a boy with a long synthetic wig on, and heels that made him tower over Daichi easily. The sharp platforms of his heels clicked with each step he took, jewelry and accessories also bobbing up and down. And not to mention the ‘bobbling’ the silicone boobs made. Jeez, even if they were fake, they did still jiggle a hell of a lot.

(Y/n) bent down daintily, pressing a kiss onto Daichi’s cheek. Lipstick smeared on his sweaty cheek, leaving a dark imprint on the side of his face. (Y/n) seemed to finally take notice of all the astonished stares directed at him.

Should he A, stand beside his boyfriend awkwardly and pick at the loose thread of his dress or B, put on his confident drag persona and play it off?

He chose B.

(Y/n) smirked and leaned on on of his feet, placing a hand on his hip. “What? Like what you see, boys? I’m afraid I’m already taken, though.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck. Even with the confident display, (y/n) couldn’t help but stay somewhat behind Daichi, trying to shrink behind his 10 inch heels.

Immediately, a bald guy and a kid with a bleached strip on the front of his head erupted into excitement.

“Yo! Sick dress, dude!”

The atmosphere lightened up tremendously. (Y/n) let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well thank you, Mr. Bleach strip.”

The bald one, who introduced himself as ‘Tanaka’, slapped Daichi on the back. “Dude! What’s with all the surprises?! You tell us you have a boyfriend but you didn’t tell us he was a drag queen?!”

“I-to be honest I didn’t know he was in drag today-I didn’t know he had work.”

The closet door opened, with Hinata and Kageyama walking out from placing the net inside. Hinata gasped excitedly, while Kageyama froze. Hinata practically bolted towards the unknown person wearing heels and jumped up to his height. (Y/n) choked on air. This kid practically flew at him.

“Wow! Are you one of those ‘drag queens’ I see on tv sometimes?! Cool! That’s so cool! I-“

“ARE YOU QUIMCHI?!”

Hinatas throat closed up, along with (y/n) after hearing his stage name being called out so...dramatically. The boy continued.

“...F-FROM THAT ONE INTERVIEW THEY DID ON THAT ONE CLUB ON THE LATE NIGHT SHOW WITH SHIN’ICHI HATORI?!”

Kageyamas booming voice rang through the gym as he pointed at (y/n) with wide eyes. Everyone’s gaze went from (y/n) to Kageyama, who was frozen in place. Even (y/n) was a tad bit confused.

The club he worked at recently had a special done on TV, and (y/n) was only in the background. He didn’t know how this...boy recognized him from that, or why he was even watching the drag special on that show in the first place.

“...yeah...yeah I am,” (y/n) smiled awkwardly and a boy with blond hair and glasses chuckled from somewhere in the gym.

The boy, with another guy with dark-green hair, walked out from the storage closet aswell. “Who knew the king was into that kind of stuff? Drag queens? No disrespect, ma’am-sir.”

Kageyama seemed to unfreeze just to glare at Tsukishima with a flushed face. “I-IM NOT! MY STUPID SISTERS JUST A BIG FAN, IS ALL!“

Kageyama turned to (y/n), and marched scarily fast towards him. He stopped abruptly and bowed his head so far it made (y/n) take a step back.

“M-MAY I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH FOR MY SISTER?! AN-AND MAYBE A PHOTO TOO?!” Kageyama stiffly held his arms to his sides as he kept his head down. Small chuckles and snorts sounded from all around the gym, (y/n) even joining in and patting the black haired boys head.

“Sure thing, doll.”

————

“Your team was nicer than I thought.”

Daichi looked up questionably, fastening his seatbelt. (Y/n) started up his car. “What do you mean, nicer?”

“Well-I thought they were gonna be a bunch of meatheads banging their heads together. They’re actually more interesting than I thought they were going to be. Especially that Kageyama guy.”

Daichi smiled contently. “I’m glad you like them, then.”

A comfortable silence breezed by them, the only sounds audible being the hum of the car engine and the soft tapping of Daichis nails against the armrest. Daichi stole a glance at (y/n). His wig was discarded, placed neatly on the backseat with the wig cap and hairpins resting underneath it, and his hair was slightly damp and messy due to being constricted. His lipstick was a bit smeared from when he kissed him on the cheek, and droplets of sweat gathered near his hairline.

Daichi set his fingers lightly on the spot where the lipstick mark sat, caressing it softly so the lipstick wouldn’t smear more that it already has. He exhaled softly and shifted his gaze back down. He wouldn’t mind if he came to his practice again.

“...so wanna come to my show tonight, Daikkun?”

“It’s at 2am, no.”

—————

Extra:

Kageyama: miwa.

Kageyama: MIWA.

Miwa sighed and checked her phone, sliently scolding her brother for bothering her. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. She swore, if Tobio wanted a ride home from practice...

Miwa: mm

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Miwa: DUDE

Miwa: AJDJSKDKF

Miwa: HOW THE FUCK

Miwa: TELL ME YOU GOT QUIMCHIS AUTOGRAPH DJFJDJE

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Kageyama: I DID. I GOT ONE FOR U AND ONE FOR ME

Kageyama: HE WAS SO TALL TOO

Kageyama: LIKE HE WAS A HALF FOOT TALLER THAN ME EVEN WITHOUT THE HEELS

Miwa: WHY WAS HE AT UR PRACTICE WHSHD

Kageyama: apparently he’s dating my captain

Miwa: WHAT RHE FUCKCIDNEBRJ

——————

#daichi x male reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi hcs #daichi x you #daichi hq #sawamura daichi #daichi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq x male reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu daichi x reader

750 notes · View notes

queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years

Text

Blood of the King

Chapter 2 Warning: 18 + only, character death, slow dark burn, character death, dark theme abortion is talked about in previous and future chapters Note: this is another self indulgence piece for me. this is so boring because i cant do a quick transition. tried hard to whittle it down. Any critiques are WELCOME. Summery: Loki has a plan to be King. Dark Loki x Black Reader, Royal AU

👑

After you depart from the Prince, his man took you below deck. The large cold compartment containing no windows. The little light it did offer came from various cracks in the ceiling.

When he left you alone you crumple to your knees, crying as the shock of all the events wash over you.

Your mother dead, your kingdom gone and you were sure the Prince was bringing you before the High Church. Your stomach turns and knots as you fret, while the ships rocking added to your growing nausea. What you had in your stomach found its way on the floor as you try to steady yourself against a pillar.

👑

You had never been to sea and if you lived you would never step foot on such a vessel again. The days and nights melt together as there was no way to tell between the two. While the silence left you with only your running thoughts as company. Your mouth grew dry and your body weak, the longer you stay kept in the darkened room.

When the door opened you had little energy to move, only meekly shying behind the pillar as the prince's man steps inside.

He said nothing only placing a bowl down with a leather sack, your stomach ached for whatever the contents. Along side it he also placed a ball of bunched up fabric before standing. "Drink and eat then change." Was all that he spoke before leaving you alone again. Weakly you hobble to what he left you.

The gruel filled you, but did not stay down. While the water quenched the desert in you throat. Wiping your hands and mouth as clean as you could you gently shake the fabric. You lay out a dress and apron carefully, setting it far from the sick you expelled.

You undress as fast as you can manage. The letter tumbling out and you ponder its contents as you stare at it on the floor.

The new garments more conservative than your kingdoms and fairly loose. King Stark preferred more skin on his slave's garments, so you wonder if the High church had a hand in the design.

The head dress covers your hair, and without mirror you configure it the best you can. The neckline of the dress came high, the sleeves touch your wrists, the hem sweeps the floor, and the new apron cinched in your baggy sides.

👑

Thankfully when he returned you were decent. "Follow me." Motioning you to come forth, your legs felt weak as you follow behind him. Your hands clasp together and your heart pounds as you ready yourself for what is to come.

After days of darkness your eyes ache at the first burst of light. Ascending into the blinding sun behind the man, you shield your eyes and try to keep pace. Once your vision clears you quietly gawked at the scenery. Thickets of trees and mountains stood tall in the far distance with a massive castle nestled between. The vast greenery was unlike your homes, and much too cold. The freezing air bled through your clothes, making you more thankful for the conservative dress.

Your heart sank once you reach the plank. The sight of the small fleet of armored men on horses had brought your mind back to the church. Though the two carts behind them seemed too fancy for a prisoners exhibition.

As you descended the plank the distinct voice of the prince caught your ear, along with a chorus of foot steps. You fought the urge to look back continuing on with the nameless man as he opened the door to the first carriage, urging you wordlessly to go inside.

You sat anxious as strangers crowded inside and to your relief the prince didn’t follow them. A signal was called, starting the journey beyond. Your eyes shifted between the strangers all dressed in dark colors with hints of deep green. You looked at your own garb, and noticed yours was starkly different.

They stayed silent, not even chatting amongst them, a reoccurring them as of late. The prince commanded silents and order to a frightening degree. Exhaustion bled through your bones as their silence mixed with the sway of the bumpy terrain. The days spent on the boat you found little sleep as you mourned for your mother and despaired about your fate.

You fought fruitlessly to keep your eyes open, but slowly slipped into a heavy slumber. It was the deepest sleep you found in days, but the piece did not last as a thunderous bashing jolted you awake. Frantically you look around to find yourself alone.

Where was everyone? Were you dreaming all along? Had you slept walked into the stables? The door opened to the cart revealing yet another stranger, tolling away at his task of inspecting and cleaning the carriage.

He spied you. "Don't be sneaking about napping in our carriages." His accent thick as he spat at you. "Get on before we both are forced to suffer."

Cautiously you do as your told, exiting the carriage. More men busied themselves with the horse while others scrubbed the outer carriage, keeping it pristine. You were indeed in a stable, but not that of your countries. You felt lost in a new world, wondering listless as people move to and fro unconcerned or bothered by your presence. All acting as if their countrymen had not burned your kingdom to the ground.

👑

"Hey" a high pitch shout catches your attention, you froze as the source ran toward you. Your heart beat sped up the closer she came.

"Healer please hurry! We need all hands" the healthy woman with rose rounded cheeks pants at you. She matched Loki's description, you look around as if someone else would give you confirmation, but there was none. Unsure you dig in your apron, palming the letter. If you were wrong what would happen ? Swallowing thickly before shoving it at her.

She eyes it curiously then took it, opening it. You wait slightly surprised that she understood the scribbles upon the page. Her cheeks turn pale before she balls up the letter, stashing it in her own apron. "Right then. As I said all hands" She sounded shaken and it did not help set you at ease. What had the prince placed in such a small letter? You stiffen when she hooks your arm, leading you through the massive area. You bristle when shouting, cheers and rowdiness grow louder as a crowd appear in the distance.

She didn't stop once nearing them, only shoving past with you in toe. You flinch as a chorus of boos and projectiles flew through the air. Following their trajectory you find more armored soldiers with a man in chains.

It was as if the world fell quiet once your eyes recognize their prisoner. Your king, draped in chains, battered and bruised. The soldiers force him along, ascending the stairs to a stage, while your guide pulls you off to a tent built next to it.

As they pelt him, he takes it in stride. Barking and cursing back defiantly on the stage. By the luck of the gods King Stark's eyes found you amongst the chaos. Your heart and stomach sink to the floor as he follows your movements and you his. Soldiers surround him forcing him down before a stump set in the middle of the stage. He fought furiously as they forced him on his knees, kicking and punching until he fell. King Stark's face was painted red with blood and visibly dazed from the assault.

"All right I will leave you to it. I must find the others" she explains before leaving you at the entrance of the tent.

👑

The sight inside of the tent was maddening. Dried blood stained the rags they wore, expose flesh, and bone had your stomach tightening. Some parts you were sure needed to be removed due to their rancidness and discoloration. The prince greatly overestimated your medical expertise.

You felt light headed while others dress like you move without hesitation. You do your best to mimic their movements without acting suspicious. Did he only want you as a healer? Were you kidnapped just to be a slave for a different king?

You fill your arms with wrappings, a grinding bowl and herbs you were the most familiar with. Gravitating toward the mouth of the tent to a man sat closest to the opening. Thankfully it looked like he only needed cleaning and redoing of his bindings.

Cleaning him, he sat silently watching the stage, unbothered by you. Slyly you watch along with him as you work slowly, hoping he didn't find it strange.

The tent sat close to the stage allowing for a side view. The crowd burst into joyful cheers as a mountain of a man with golden hair steps up on to the stage. His smile was bright even from here, raising his hands in the air the people quiet themselves.

"We have conquered!" The crowd erupt again. You yelped when the men in the tent cheer along with the crowd. "Their kingdom now ours." He kicked Stark in the ribs as he stayed positioned hunched over.

"A payment for a sour bargain" He laughed as your king spit blood, barley able to move. The tall blonde commanded the crowd, they adored him. He reminded you of King Stark in a way.

The golden mane man lifted his steel from it sheathed to the delight of the crowd. Their Kings sword came down swiftly and stuck in the stump. Resting at an odd angle, while your kings body slipped to the ground.

Stark's head rolled and bounced upon the stage, before he grabbed it by its hair. Showing it to the crowd as Stark's blood trickled from it.

"Do you think you have wrapped me enough healer?" The soldier brought you back to your surroundings.

"Sorry" you whispered as your hands tremble while you knot it.

Moving from him you search for another with similar wounds, until another healer asked for your assistance. You nearly vomit at the task of picking magnets from a wound, while she prepared an ointment.

When you finished you realized the crowd had gone and the tent had thinned. "Good work ladies" the woman who brought you here announced loudly in the tent. "Our king is proud of you all. Finish up and come to the hall for the feast."

👑

#dark Loki x Black reader #dark loki x black!reader #dark!loki x black!reader #dark!loki x reader #dark loki x reader #black writer #dark thor x blackreader #Dark Thor x Black!Reader

37 notes · View notes

ac3id · 4 years

Text

bully anon 🚶. are u reading my mind? 👁️👄👁️ im literally writing a yandere!bully! bakugo x reader thing where he shares his darling w his crazy classmates 💅 also bakumomo 🤤

bnha: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x momo yaoyorozu

warnings: humiliation, degradation, noncon touching, bj. bakugo n momo be meanies :'), fem reader

momo has a kick for seeing u suffer, she just loves when ur eyes get glossy & a sacred, hopeless expression masks ur face. she gets such a power trip from it that even the slightest bit of guiltiness she feels from bullying u disappears.

but she knows she cant make u cry the way she wants u too. u r not that scared of her. too u, she is just another rich girl picking on u because it boosts their ego. u honestly couldnt care less about those types anymore. so she knows u wont submit to her so easily and thats when she goes to bakugo for help.

the both of them have great respect for eachother, he knows how extraordinary she is and vice versa but when momo asks him, “what do u think of her,” signalling to u, hes a little confused. hes always thought of u as the pathetic type, u did not hold much respect in his heart or mind. hed often forget about ur existence even but one thing he had wouldnt admit, ever was that he also found u hot. very attractive. sometimes, late at night he wud pump his cock to the thought of u. the way u stretched during warm ups, ur beautiful curves. the way ur perfect, little ass bent and jiggled during exercises. he dreamed of going up to u & grabbing a handful. the way ur tits bounced when u ran, everything clouded his mind during late nights when he tried to release pent up stress.

so when momo asked him the question he gave the most honest answer, “just another extra, too me,” momo seemed satisfied w his answer, “so, u dont care about her?” she asks & bakugo agrees. “well she pisses me off.”

the spite momo held in her tone made it hard to believe it was actually her speaking. she asks bakugo for his help. she promises him that he can do whatever he wants with u, whatever. he had said he didnt care about u, it should be easy for him to bully u. he agrees besides, who could say no to momo.

it starts of with usual teasing, hes calling u names, deeming u worthless & laughing when he sees u tear up from his harsh words. he feels amazing, like he is on top of the world. he bullies u pathetically, calling u out on ur insecurities & turning it into a laughing stock for others. while everyone is laughing at ur weak state, fortunately for u someone comes to ur rescue– momo stands up against bakugo acting as she is actually disgusted by his actions, acting as if she wasnt snickering along w the others.

she defends u but what she says just makes u cry even louder. she never outright denies his insults. he calls u a worthless, piece of shit with no real importance to the world. from momo, its never ‘dont listen to him, u are an amazing person y/n!’ but its always ‘bakugo–san, dont pick on others for things they cant change about themselves.” she also thinks u are worthless? guess so? everyone just laughs louder, they know what she is doing & so do u. u know u cant take this anymore, the humiliation brings tears to ur eyes and u can feel the dam break slowly.

u run to the bathroom not sparing a glance behind. u lock urself up in one of the stalls, crying ur pain away. not after long, a loud thud bangs against the door w a crude voice following the tune, “oi, i know ure in there!” bakugo screams, his repeated banging on the door never stopping, “open up!” he continues but u dont listen to him instead putting ur hands over ur ears, trying to block out the sound of his loud cries.

u keep at it for as long as bakugo stands outside the door until u hear an explosion go off & the next thing is he looking down at u ferociously. his glowing, red eyes gleam a powerful hatred making u tremble over the toilet seat. he pulls ur face up by ur hair before slapping u across the face. ur face stings when his hand connect to ur cheek, ur head falling to the opposite direction, ur breath uneven as tears pools down ur eyes.

“oi,” he tugs on ur hair again, ur scalp burning as he tugs on ur weak roots, “u think u can just run away?” u strain ur eyes, trying to look up at him through ur watery vision. “useless bitch,” his stare is intense. his vermilion eyes scan ur tear stained face and he feels himself get excited. the way u are seated would make u face his crotch if it werent for him holding u up by ur hair, “u are pathetic, u know?” he says it like its a question but u very well know hes serious. u only sob harder at his words, fat, salty tears rolling down ur cheeks, u pray to urself that he leaves u alone.

unfortunately for u, the whole scene just excites bakugo even further. he feels his jeans tighten as he starts to imagine u sucking him off. it was just like one of his fantasies only difference; u were here in real flesh & blood withering under him. he drops ur head & u quickly turn ur gaze to the floor, peering down at ur shoes. ur face drops as u hear bakugo unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper, u keep ur gaze focused to the floor not daring to look up.

what was he going to do? pee on u?

only when he calls out ur name u by mistakenly peep up. the sight u see is scandalous, he pumps his semi-hard cock in his fist slowly as he watches ur every move. ur eyes widen in terror when u hear him talk, “put it in ur mouth, bitch.” his order is absolute yet u dont listen to him. there was no way u were actually going to suck his dick, ur eyes fall back down on the floor as u drop ur head down, “no.” u whisper, ur voice timid. bakugo frowns, what makes u think u have a say in this.

“what do u mean no?” he asks voice on edge, “i-its rape.” ur answer comes out in a weak, broken cry which makes bakugo scoff, “how? im not even touching u.” u try to reason but bakugo is having none of it. growing impatient, he grabs ur head and pushes his cock into ur mouth, completely ignoring ur cries. “bite me and i will blow ur face off” its not an empty threat so u obey. it wasnt like u would be able to win against him anyway.

“suck on it, whore. im litreally asking u to do one single thing but u cant even do that?” bakugo is crude with his words, never missing any opportunity to talk u down. u start sucking on his cock, ur head bobbing & tongue swirling around his tip. he hisses in pleasure, this was so much better than his imagination.

“look at u go, guess the rumours are true afterall.” he laughs. u can feel him coming closer. his cock twitches in ur mouth as he bites his lips roughly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. his cock hits the back of ur throat before he cums in ir mouth. hot, salty liquid shooting down ur throat making u feel nauseous. “guess sucking dick is the only thing u are good at,” he remarks letting go of ur face. and pulling his pants on. embarrassed, u turn ur face away from him sobbing softly as u wait for him to leave but he never does. instead he watches u cry.

“what are u doing?” another voice breaks in. momo stands outside the bathroom stall knocking on the wooden door. ur head turns to face bakugo in a flash as he goes unlock the door. u grab on his arm, pleading him to not open the door. u didnt want momo to see u in this state. bakugo stares at u before throwing a chasire grin as he opens the door.

more tears fall from ur eyes as u see momo waiting out, concern written all over her face. her fear only increases when she looks over ur broken form. “what happened in here?” she turns to bakugo but recieves no answer, “he raped me!” u scream & momo’s eyes widen. she turns to bakugo, giving him a genuine glare. she approaches u slowly, her hands rest on ur shoulder as she pushes ur face into her boobs while she rubs ur back with soothing circles. “what did he do?” u find it strange how bakugo hadnt left yet, he was technically exposed. what good could it do him? watching the girl whos mouth he just violated get pampered. u tell her about he shoved his dick down ur throat forcefully. u were not sure why she was being all nice to all of a sudden but it was comforting. u keep hugging momo as u cry about bakugo. he just clicks his tongue before getting to leave but momos suggestion holds him back, “why just her mouth?” momo pulls away from ur embrace, her hands now falling behind ur back as she captures ur wrists and bounds the away with ropes she had created. ur wrists adjust uncomfortably behind u. next, her hands reach out between ur legs, forcing them open.

“momo, what are u doing?” the false sense of security is gone as she flips over ur skirt displaying ur light pink panties to bakugo. u squirm around trying to get free of the ropes but its impossible. “didnt i tell u that u can do whatever u want w her?” ur face pales as she starts talking. “shes a virgin, u will have fun. im planning on recording it.” her nimble fingers play with ur clit over the fabric making u wet. “besides, look at her. dont tell me she doesnt want this.” her fingers vanish behind ur panties as she plays with ur holes, ur arousal sticking to her fingers deliciously.

bakugo looks at scene displayed before him and feels himself raging a hard–on again. he takes a good look at ur crying face wrecking u and filling u with his cum till the brim while momo records everything.

337 notes · View notes

sailorshadzter · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Joffrey reveals himself to be a monster to her towards the start of the stay at Winterfell .Knowing that her parents cant reject the match between herself and the Crown Prince without repercussions,she stages a kidnapping and slips herself into the group heading to the Wall. Maybe she cuts off her hair/dyes her hair/steals some of Brans clothes.Kinda like a Mulan AU I guess?

OOOOOH WOW

this is one of those asks that i have to scroll for a minute to get to!!! but i got to it!!! IM SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO VERY LONG but inspiration strikes when it strikes. anyways, i might come out with a part 2 / dont tempt me to make this into another au i never finish but man the idea is GOOD.

anyways

i hope it was worth the wait.

As the night begins to dawn, Sansa Stark finds it hard to keep both feet on the ground.

She's lovestruck, falling hard for the golden haired Baratheon prince that's been put before her. With his charming good looks and regal posture, he's enough to make any maiden's heart flutter. In truth, even now with Joffrey and his parents, the King and Queen of the Iron Throne there in her own home, she's finding it hard to believe that she, she, of all people, will be the one to marry the prince. That someday she might be a queen as beautiful as his mother, Cersei Lannister, who smiles so sweetly whenever they meet, who speaks so tenderly, who upon after the betrothal was made official, calls her daughter, as if she so truly were.

"Come my lady, let us take one last walk." It's Joffrey now, bending over his arm in a bow as he approaches where she sits among the other young ladies of Winterfell. They erupt in giggles around her as she blushes to the roots of her hair but nods all the same, reaching out her hand to take his, allowing him to help her up onto her feet. Though she glances towards her mother, who sits engaged in conversation with her father and the King himself, Joffrey tugs on her hand and she can do nothing else besides follow after him. She knows it's inappropriate for her and the prince to sneak off alone like this, but she can't help but to excitedly wonder if he means only to steal her away for a private kiss. Besides, they are to be married in only a few short weeks, so what harm would it do?

They walk together out into the moonlit night, a surprising chill to the air that sends a shiver down her spine. If Joffrey notices, he does not speak on it, rather he continues to lead her through the courtyard where only a handful of guards and nobility mingle. It was astonishing just how many people came along with the King and his family and Sansa isn't certain there would ever be a way to remember all of their names. Along the back, they step into the gardens, the darkening sky pierced by the soft white light of the moon. "I will miss the moonlight of the North," she says as they fall to a stop before the brimming fountain, her lips curving with a smile. "But I suppose I will love it all the more whenever we return."

At her words, Joffrey turns, his expression not one she's seen before. It's not confusion, but rather, it looks like anger. No, it is something far beyond anger, and it frightens her down to her very core. Startled, Sansa begins to stammer an apology, but Joffrey silences her with a wave of his hand. "Return?" He scoffs, looking from her back towards Winterfell and back again. "We'll not be returning here once we leave," he goes on, shaking his head with a scathing sort of laugh that is far more chilling than the wind had been.

"Y-your pardon, I only meant... When we visit..."

"Did you not hear me, my lady... Once we leave here in two days, we shall not be returning. Not you and certainly not me. You will be my queen and you will stay South, where you belong." A strange feeling is creeping up within her; it's cold, it's deep, and it's so very dark. There is something about the way Joffrey says this that she knows it to be true. She realizes then, quite suddenly, that if she leaves with him as intended, she will never again return to Winterfell. She swallows. This isn't right, she thinks, he musn't mean it.

"I know the North is not entirely to your pleasure, but it is my home... I can't imagine never returning," she smiles, hoping her easy going tone is not lost to the shaking of her voice. "You may even grow to enjoy it here, if you give it a chance..." To her horror, Joffrey's hands shoot up and for a single instance, she thinks he means to strike her, but rather he takes hold of her by the upper arms, his grip like a vice. "M-my lord, you're h-hurting me," she whimpers, staring up into Joffrey's blazing eyes.

He leans in close to her, as close as he might have done for the kiss she had once hoped he'd bestow upon her, and breathes a simple reply. "Bid your home farewell, sweetheart, for we ride south in the morning." His grip lessens and then, he lets go entirely, taking a single step back from where she stands. The morning? She thinks, these words sinking in, realizing now that though she'd been told it would be another day before leaving... Evidently, someone had decided that there was no need to stay another night and no one had chosen to tell her. She wonders if this is cruelty on Joffrey's part or kindness of her parents, hoping to spare her the pain of knowing it was her last night home. Either way, it matters not, because she knows there's no way she can go South.

Not ever.

[ x x x ]

As she lays in bed, Sansa can do little else but stare at the ceiling above her bed and wish to be someone else. If she were anybody else, she would not be marrying the prince, and she would not be leaving home. Sansa had tried to explain her feelings to her mother, who had merely laughed and said it was nervous jitters. I had them, too, before I married your father, Cat Stark had said as she brushed out her daughter's hair for bed one last time. The next time she brushed this head of hair, it would be for her wedding day. The longer she spent with her mother that evening, the more Sansa realized she could not simply back out of this wedding. Sansa was not a stupid girl, though Arya might have argued differently, and she knew of the trouble brewing between the families. Between the kingdoms. She's overheard enough whispers and listened to enough speculation between her brothers to know that war was a very real possibility- some said only the good friendship between the Baratheon king and their father was what kept them safe. Sansa also knows, even just from the words spoken during their betrothal, that her marriage with Joffrey solidified the peace between them.

And yet...

The longer she thinks about it, the more she knows that despite it all, she cannot ride South. She knows of the stories, the ones of what happens to Stark men that go to King's Landing... What was stopping something terrible from happening to her as well? There had to be a way, there just had to be a way to free her from this wedding and ultimately, the prison King's Landing was certain to be.

It's just as she's resigning herself to her misery that something comes to her.

One of the stories she had read as a young girl, a story of a princess taken in the dead of night by an evil lord. Said princess was to be rescued by her true love, a shining knight of virtue that rides in on his white horse. And more is coming- it's not just her that is to leave on the morrow- but Jon, as well. Jon, her bastard brother, was being sent to the wall to join the Knight's Watch. He certainly would not be her knight, but if she could somehow slip in among him and the others heading out... Yes, it might possibly work.

But if it's going to work, she must work fast, as she knows the men are set to leave before morning light. And so she leaps from her bed and pulls on her dressing robe. It is late into the night, hours still from the morning call, but there is always the fear of a guard or even her father discovering her out of bed at such an hour. But she says a silent prayer to the Old Gods and then tiptoes from her room.

[ x x x ]

When the morning call comes, she's already gone, a single note hastily scratched in writing she hopes looks entirely unlike her own penmanship.

She's been gone well over an hour by then, for just as she had planned, she manages to slip away among those leaving for the Knight's Watch. With an old cloak draped over her shoulders, she keeps the hood up, shielding from those around her the red hair she's so well known for. Before leaving, she managed to snag some old breeches and shirt from the laundry, and she's braided her hair and tucked it up as much as she could. Luckily for her, she's mostly ignored by the other men, aside from one man who growls at her when she bumps into him halfway into the morning that first day.

The group walks for hours; far longer than she's certainly ever walked at one time. She's tired and she's hungry and she hurts in places she's never hurt before. But, there is a strange sense of warmth comes over her as she settles into a place of her own, away from the others, nearer to the river that runs through the forest. With no knowledge of how to build a fire, Sansa is thankful for the warmth of the summer night and hungry as she is, realizes she's far more tired than anything else. After a sleepless night and endless walking, she will forgo food if only it means she can sleep.

And so she wanders closer to the water's edge, where there beneath the canopy of darkness, she finally lowers her hood.

From where he watches, Jon finds himself intrigued by what he sees.

He can't really say what draws him to follow the hooded figure out to the river beyond simple curioisity. But now as he watches, he sees hands pulling what certainly must be pins from hair and to his shock, long hair comes tumbling down. Now he's really curious.

And just then, a cloud above them shifts and the moonlight illuminates her.

The red hair is vibrant, the pale moonlight weaving between the strands like ribbons. He's stunned, but his foot snaps a twig all the same. When she whips around, it's steel blue eyes he finds himself staring into and Jon wonders, despite sixteen years beneath the same roof as her, he's never noticed that look within her eyes. "Sansa..." Her name is on his lips before he can stop it and he realizes now that she is quite like a deer in the crosshairs, a creature torn between fight and flight.

She can't believe this.

Her fleeting sense of safety has fled, vanished into the night the moment those Stark gray eyes settled upon her. Of course, she can't now understand how she ever expected to avoid Jon forever, but she had hoped to at least be further out than this when they did meet. "Jon," she greets, taking a step away from the river and closer to where he stands. The moonlight is bright and it illuminates Jon in a way that makes her blink, makes her think. "Please..." It's the only plea she can offer, the only words that in this moment, seem right to say.

Jon studies her for a long moment; all things considered, she must have had a good reason to come. Sansa Stark wasn't the type to just... Throw it all away without a reason. Her dream of marriage to a prince was to come true, after all. Her golden haired Prince Joffrey had arrived in Winterfell only days before; a smug, ugly sort of kid that had grown tall, taller than even Robb, but one that had stolen Sansa's heart all the same. Jon wonders what could have made her do what she'd done. "I won't," he promises suddenly, earnestly.

Her face relaxes, she smiles.

She feels safe once again and it is far warmer than it was before.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #ask box prompts #i really could write more for this #my writing

43 notes · View notes

wri0thesley · 4 years

Text

Marked - Part 1 Dio x Fem! Reader (Kinktober Day #2: Abduction)

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. Vampirism. Abduction. Oral sex, biting, blood, marking, fucking around with Jojo vampire canon to my own ends. 5k.

Your father receives a missive at dinner; George Joestar is dead, and Dio Brando is missing, and Jonathan Joestar is set to inherit the estate. You push away your father’s suggestion that you get close to the Joestar boy - everyone knows that you and Dio Brando have a history. Your father, perhaps, does not know quite the extent - but as the memories resurface and your pounding heart does not let you rest, you retire to your bedroom for the evening. You are not to know it’s for the last time in your life. At least, the last time with a beating heart.

News travels fast, even by horseback.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Bad news travels fast - you hear of marriages of eligible suitors your father wishes you had accepted proposals from and deaths of friends who are struck with terrible consumption and melancholy quicker than you ever hear of invitations to country houses or balls. So it’s no surprise how quickly the knowledge of George Joestar’s death reaches you, being only a few cities over - your father reads the missive over dinner, and gives you the sad news with the air of a man rather too pleased by another’s misfortune.

“Wasn’t his son briefly courting you?” He asks, and you neatly wipe your mouth with the lace napkin by the table settings. You do not let the flush show on your face, even as memories of Dio Brando come rushing to the forefront of your mind. “The adopted one?”

“Mr Brando?” You ask, delicately. The thought of Dio’s wicked smile and his fingers on your back, touching the lacing of your dress, his body pressed hot and too close to you makes itself far too known for so early in the evening.

“That’s the one,” your father says. His eyes scan over the paper, his lip twisting to one side. “Looks like his adopted son’s done a runner, anyway. Perhaps you should be a comfort to his biological son in his time of need?” The way your father stresses the word ‘biological’ makes you repress a shiver; it makes you think of how he has been needling at you, reminding you that a proper young lady ought to be out of her father’s home and fulfilling her biological duty.

You have fulfilled some biological duty, at any rate - with Dio Brando, his hand between your thighs, your own fingers around his hips and your mouth open wide for the placket of his trousers to open. You’re certain that’s not what your father meant by ‘biological duty’ for his unmarried daughter.

“I’d rather think I should let him mourn in peace,” you say, your voice very quiet, your hand as steady as you can manage as you take a sip of tea from the fine china teacup. “If you don’t mind,” you stand up, slowly, “I have some correspondence that I should be replying to.”

Your father’s eyes follow you as you stand, his face set in disapproval.

“Of possible suitors, I hope,” he mumbles, low under his breath - and you decide to keep your dignity and leave the room in a flurry of skirts, trying not to let the thought of Dio Brando’s mouth hot on your neck and his body pressed snugly between your thighs overwhelm you altogether.

The correspondence is a lie, of course - you get letters, but most of the time, you throw them to the side. Your father’s ideas for suitable matches are so boring - they’re nothing compared to the fire in Dio’s eyes, the cut-glass accent slipping into the rough accent of a boy raised on the streets, the filthy words he’d given you that no respectable young lady should know. They pale in comparison, too, to Dio’s broad frame and his golden eyes and the carefully coiffed golden hair. How are you supposed to satisfy yourself with the droning on of a boring aristocrat who’s never done anything dangerous in his life when you’ve tasted danger on Dio’s lips and in trails of fire under his fingertips?

His fingers. You bite your lip, stealing a guilty look behind you. Your father will take his dinner and then retire to his study, a glass of port in his hands until he falls asleep in a stupor. Your maids are long finished with their daily tasks with only dinner things to take care of, your household rather less bustling since your mother passed away and your brothers and sisters have been married off. If you were to steal back into your bedroom instead of into the pretty little blue and white receiving room with your writing desk, nobody would be around to spy on you and wonder what you were doing.

And your body is aflame with memories, and your corset is squeezing you tight, and every rub together of your thighs as you hurry up the narrow passageway to your bedroom is torture. The maids have already lit the gas lamp, in case you want to retire to bed early, and you catch sight of yourself in the looking glass opposite your bed - your cheeks are flushed, your eyes bright, your bosom (already put to its best advantage by the tight lacing of your corset) heaving. This is the kind of look that Dio always saw you with, pulling you behind him into disused nurseries and cupboards.

“Look at you,” he’d say, bending his mouth low so that his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “If I didn’t fuck you now, somebody else would certainly get it into his head to. You look like you’re begging for it.”

Teeth dig into your bottom lip as you let yourself lay down upon the bed, soft pillows and covers beneath your back. Your fingers pull at your skirts, rucking up lace-trimmed petticoats to around your hips so your fingers can draw patterns on your thighs as your eyes flutter closed and you let the memories of Dio Brando overwhelm you entirely.

You rub softly over your mound, sweet shivers whispering down your spine as you remember how the first time Dio had touched you between your thighs, you’d been utterly scandalised.

“My chastity,” you’d hissed, through your teeth, though you’d already allowed him to kiss you harder than a husband would ever kiss his wife. “You’ll ruin me for marriage?”

Dio had raised one eyebrow cockily, his hand not moving - you had, he’d noticed, not moved his hand away from its place trapped between your thighs.

“You don’t like the idea of being ruined, darling? Because your body is telling an entirely different story.”

He’d pulled his hand away and it had glistened in the candlelight with your own slick, both at the way Dio had kissed you and the way he’d manhandled you and the dangerous position you’d allowed yourself into. Something about the thrill of danger had set a pounding between your legs like you’d never know.

You’d been unable to look away as he’d raised the fingers to his lips and tasted you, tipping his head briefly back as if savouring a fine red wine.

“Mm,” he’d said, looking at you through low eyelids, his pupils blown wide. “You taste like you want to be ruined.”

You gasp as your fingers brush your swollen clit, the organ sensitive to the touch. Dio, too, had taught you how to do this, laughing as he’d found a guest bedroom in one of the expensive country manors and he’d pushed you onto the bed, caging you beneath his massive frame.

“Touch yourself for me,” he’d said, your cheeks had flamed. “I want to see how you make yourself come apart, and then . . . then I want to show you how I’d do it.”

“I can’t,” you’d tried to say, weakly. “I-it’s not proper--”

Dio Brando had kissed you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, hard cock in his trousers grinding into your leg.

“Is anything we do together proper?” He’d asked, pulling back, and you’d had to admit that he was right. You and he were hardly models of propriety - and if he wanted to see you touch yourself . . . well. Nothing he’d done so far has been anything close to unpleasant, and you were eager to see what other tricks he’d picked up on the streets.

One finger slides down to your entrance, toying with the pulsing hole, circling it with the lightest of touches until you can practically feel the throb in time with your heartbeat. Your breath comes in soft little pants. You would do anything to have Dio here right now instead of you, his big fingers stroking and exploring you instead of your own. But all you have is your own imagination, so your eyes flutter closed and your hips cant upwards softly.

“Dio,” you breathe out, your voice a quiet prayer in the silent room.

Where has he gone? You had gotten the impression, from your father’s face at dinner, that there was rather more to the story than just Dio Brando running off when his father had died. But then again, your father had always disapproved of your dalliance with Dio, even without knowing the real truth. He’d sniffed.

“The boy won’t inherit,” Father had said to you. “You’re better off chasing the brother, unless you want to spend the rest of your life a pauper.”

It’s like Dio to be a mystery, but not like him to run from luxury. He had always loved the feel of your expensive silks and fine embroidery beneath his fingers, had a sarcastic comment to make about an ugly and out of fashion hat, had sniffed at cheap reproduction furniture and sighed when a host had skimped out on the wine at a ball. You wonder why he hadn’t stayed - and somehow, the mystery of it all seems almost romantic.

You swear that the air in the room gets colder. One eye opens to see that the lace curtains are billowing; you suppose a maid must have opened the window a crack to let some air in. Your eyes flutter closed once more.

One finger slides inside of you, smaller and shorter than Dio’s fingers inside of you had been. It licks at the edges of the fire inside you but doesn’t stoke them the way you want, and though you gently pump it in and out of you (the slick sounds of your fingers inside you heart-rendingly loud in a way that makes you vibrate with excitement), it isn’t enough, Your second fingertip twists, stretching you open wider, and again you whimper out;

“D-Dio, please--”

There’s a whumph of displaced air, and your eyes snap open as your body is suddenly once more caged by a frame far larger than yours. You find yourself staring directly into hungry golden eyes that can belong to only one man.

“You were calling out for me,” Dio Brando murmurs. “And would I be any kind of gentleman if I didn’t help a lady in distress?”

You think of a hundred ways to respond back to him in kind; flirty little barbs about how he is no gentleman, alone with a lady in her bedroom. But instead, all you can whisper, your fingers still inside of you, your throat dry;

“H-how?”

He smiles, and you swear that his teeth were never so white and sharp. His eyes, too, you think . . . they were gold before, but did they shimmer like liquids in his face? Was his skin quite so pale and smooth and perfect? Was his voice so low and lilting and musical, as he opens his mouth to say;

“It does you no good to ask that now, darling girl,” He leans down, his lips brushing yours, and you melt against him. “Just lay back. Be good for me now.”

You do. You’re helpless under his charms - your thighs fall apart as he rears onto his knees, as his hand gently removes your fingers (those he pulls up to his mouth, kissing the fingertips, mouthing where they are dripping with your slick and making a noise that’s all pleasure to taste you). You’re maneuvered like a ragdoll - and though he does not unlace your corset or strip you of your dress, he makes you feel utterly exposed under his gaze as he drinks in how helplessly pliant you are for him.

“You’re just as beautiful as ever,” he hums, lowly, drawing one fingernail up your thigh. Were his nails so sharp, before? Like claws? He sighs as he watches the thin red line form, the bright beads of blood. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt for long.”

You’re not sure you want his fingers inside you with claws like that, but somehow when his fingers do touch you there is nothing sharp at all. There’s just his finger, toying with your clit, as he looks down at you.

“If you knew how lucky you are,” he murmurs. “That I’m doing this for you--”

He bends his head and you feel his tongue press against your entrance, flat and wide. Your own fingers tangle in the bedsheets, back arching, as Dio laps at you. His mouth and breath and tongue feel unusually cold, but you can’t dwell on that when he’s licking at you like this, teasing your back to arch and your body to tie itself in knots.

The finger working your clit does not cease for a moment, grinding and rubbing and circling, making hot sparks of want and need burst into life in your stomach. He laps at you broadly, from perineum to just below your clit, and you’re helpless under his ministrations as you always have been, all thoughts of how he ended up here banished from your mind with how good his tongue and fingers feel. There’s nothing to muffle the soft whimpers escaping your mouth as your peak begins to build, urged inescapably forth by Dio’s tongue and clever treatment of your clit--

Dio chuckles low against you, his breath cold, and the vibrations have your back arching even higher and suddenly he’s alternating sucking on your clit and flicking it, his hand moving away to hold onto your thigh, and all of the hot tight tension in your body comes to the forefront as your peak hits you, your body a shivering mass of white noise--

Something sharp like the pricking of a needle in your thigh. The high of your orgasm, sharp in its intensity, as you take a deep gulp of air and find it will not go down properly. Darkness, edging your vision. And Dio’s voice, low and quiet, somehow muffled as if his mouth is full of liquid as he murmurs;

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Your eyes open slowly, though your head is still fuzzy. You feel somehow freer - and when you look down, you see that you have been relieved of your corset and neat dress, and instead you’re wearing a nightgown of flowing white chiffon, your hair unbound from the complicated fashion of the moment. You see, too, that this is most certainly not the pretty blue and white bedspread of your own boudoir. Beneath you is a dark red blanket, the colour of blood.

Memories of Dio’s fingers and mouth on you come rushing back, and you bite back a gasp as you realise that he’s . . . kidnapped you? Can you call it that, really? Because you always thought kidnapping was done against your will, by nefarious men who wanted your fortune - right now, you’re pleased to be in a luxurious and cavernous bedroom with a man who has haunted your thoughts since you first met him.

“You’re awake.” The voice is soft and cultured, and you pull yourself up on the bed (the nightgown slips, exposing your shoulder - any other lady might feel scandalous, but Dio has seen enough of your body by now that it barely registers. “Good.” Dio is smirking, seated by the bed in a wingback armchair.

Now, you see him more clearly, without the heady arousal of your senses that had marred your judgement last time. His skin is indeed paler, his eyes brighter, his lips very red - and at the corner of his mouth, where he is smirking, a sharp white fang glints menacingly.

You know what he is. The memory of sharp pain in your thigh and how he’d stared at the blood welling in the cut from his nails, the cool breath against your own heated skin. You are well-read, you are clever, you are perhaps a little too fond of things that your father thinks macabre - and you whisper it softly.

“Vampire.”

Dio’s smile widens.

“I knew you’d guess, darling,” he says, coming to stand from the chair, leaning towards you and taking your face in his grip, turning you to look into those golden eyes. “That’s why I chose you. If you’re willing, of course.”

“Willing for what?” You ask him, breathlessly. The smile does not leave his face.

“I do not have a fortune,” he tells you. “I have been cast out by my . . .” His mouth twitches in displeasure, “brother. I have no riches, aside from my own intellect - I have survived on that before. And now, of course, I have . . .” The hand not holding your face gestures down to himself. “This preternatural blessing. I am faster and stronger and better than mortal man. And I am extending you, my darling girl - the only one who’s ever kept up with me, whose lips I cannot stop thinking about, whose eyes and mind sparkle so unlike the other dullards I’ve been forced to put up with you . . . an invitation to join me.”

“You want to make me like you?” You breathe, and though you know it should be horrifying, the prospect is not all that displeasing.

Oh, you know that he is supposed to be a reanimated corpse. That you’ll lose any chance at a heaven, that you’ll have to feast on the lifeblood of other creatures to maintain an eternal state of not quite being . . . but Dio really is glowing, in a way you’ve never seen a man do before. His grip is tight. His body draws your eye, his face even more beautiful than you remember it - and is it really so bad, to spend an eternity beside him? Beneath him?

“You can say no,” Dio says, and the hand moves from your chin, fingers stroking over the pulse point in your throat so your breath catches. “For you, I’ll make it painless. But if you say yes . . .” His eyes are bright as he sits on the edge of the bed, close to you - you can see excitement writ plain across his expression. “We’d be fierce, my darling. We’d be unstoppable. With you at my side . . . You would have everything you could ever want. Anyone who has ever hurt you, ripped into pieces. Armies at your command. And . . .” That smirk again, the one that always makes you wonder what filthy things he is planning. “We would have a hundred lifetimes to learn each other’s bodies in every conceivable way.” He reaches forward, his lips a hair’s breadth from your own. “You have no idea it feels like in a body like this, to touch and be touched . . .”

He does not have to convince you any further. You close the distance, kissing him hungrily. You moan into his mouth as his arms go around you, holding you like a ragdoll, like you weigh nothing at all.

He could kiss you for hours, you realise, without needing to draw a breath - and so, you pull back from him, and you look at him with blown wide eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe to him. “A hundred times yes.”

His eyes grow brighter, and he kisses you again - and this time, as he kisses you, he hooks a leg around you until he’s straddling you, your body pliant beneath his. The candles about the bed flicker, the air cool as Dio’s hungry hands pull at the light chiffon, ripping it as if it were paper. You’re bare beneath the fabric - and as you look down, you can see that there are angry red pin pricks on your thigh.

He bit you, then - in the bedroom, when you blacked out. The idea makes you feel heady and intoxicated. You want him to bite you again, to leave his mark all over you so the entire world knows that you belong to Dio Brando.

The thought of abandoning your old life does not make you feel in any way aggrieved - but the thought of an unfettered existence, at liberty to do whatever you want (no matter how scandalous or improper) with Dio by your side does make you feel as if your entire body is filled with fizzing, boiling water, threatening to tip over and scald you any moment.

“I want to mark you,” Dio whispers. “Any marks that you leave this life with, you take with you into the next - and I want your thighs and hips and breasts and every private part of you to scream out that you are mine body and soul.”

Spirals of heat all through your core, making a pulse beat needy between your legs. Dio’s fangs are visible, now, almost imperceptibly lengthening as you feel his cock press into your stomach where he straddles you.

“I’m yours,” you tell him, winding your arms about his neck. His silken gold hair brushes your skin, making gooseflesh rise on your shoulders. Every bit of your body sings out for his attentions - to be thoroughly and utterly claimed by Dio in any way that he sees fit. “Do whatever you want to me.”

“I’ve imagined you saying that so many times since I ascended,” he murmurs, nosing against your ear, kissing and biting at your earlobe, his lips brushing where your pulse beats an excited rhythm in your throat. “But it has never sounded so sweet.”

His body presses against yours - and though he is not hot, your own body feels like it’s burning up. He urges your thighs to spread so he can settle between them, already peeling off his own layers of clothes to reveal a body which is more marble than skin. He is so pale he almost glows in the light - but a few scars remain from his rugby days, pink and faded. They look like kisses with rouged lips on his torso, and you long to kiss them yourself. But not yet - right now, you are at Dio’s mercy, and he clearly is relishing being in control.

“Oh, but I’ve missed this,” he breathes, his mouth lowering to your nipple, his tongue coaxing it to harden beneath his lapping. “You’re so warm, darling . . . I cannot wait to have you beside me for the rest of our existences--”

He does not use the word ‘lives’ - you do not mind.

His tongue is cold, and you shiver from both the sensation of the temperature and the other sensations that he awakes in you. He kisses the nipple, pulling his mouth free with a light pop - kissing the swell of your breast, circling kisses to the underside . . . and you yelp as fangs slide into soft flesh, as Dio groans and laps at the blood that beads over the pinpricks.

They will be hidden by your dresses. He wants you marked only in the most private places - places only his eyes will see. Everyone else will know you are his by the devotion in your eyes and your own words.

He continues to kiss along your skin, his fangs every so often sinking into sensitive patches of skin, suckling lightly at you. He kisses your hips, leaving three perfect bite marks in the curve of them. Your other breast, a matching set of pinpricks that will fade into a scar. Your other hip, the dip of your waist--

Each suck and bite and kiss of the wound has another shockwave of lust emanating through your body, making your entire self throb with need. You are empty, between slick thighs - and Dio’s cock seems so far away from entering you. You sigh and clutch at sheets and cant your hips, wondering if you are soaking through the bed - and Dio chuckles, as he bites into soft flesh again and you spill for him like a ripe peach.

It is fortunate the sheets are red, for you know he is spilling much of your blood. You’re light-headed and pleasantly fuzzy as he finally - finally! - presses kisses to your thighs.

These bites send shockwaves even more potent through your body, each slide of his fangs into your flesh like they have a direct line to the pounding heat in your core. Your mouth lets out needy moans and whines as Dio methodically sinks fangs inside of you and pulls them out, as he kisses the marks and sucks at the lifeblood that he’s drawn forth from you.

Three up the right leg. You’re breathless. Three up the left leg. Your vision feels like it’s swimming - there is nothing left in the world but you and Dio, where your bodies are joined, where he is now moving and you feel his cock against your thigh.

His mouth is stained with blood when he kisses you, but you pay no heed to that as you feel his cock open you up. Your sex - slick and needy, more than ready to finally be filled - welcomes him hilting inside of you to his very base with no resistance.

“Still so tight,” he murmurs, against you, as your thighs wrap around his muscled torso, urging him deeper and deeper inside you. “Has nobody else touched you, my darling?”

“It’s only ever been you,” you breathe. “It’s only ever you I want.”

It’s true. Other men have flirted, have come to your father, have told you of grand prospects for you as their wife - but all you have ever needed is this. Dio inside you and the promise of a life far more interesting than anything they could give you. Damn your dowry and your biological expectations and everything else - after tonight, you’ll fulfil the biological expectation of you alright. You’ll dig your fangs into yielding throats and feast on other people and fuck Dio with the taste of their blood still singing in your throat.

Dio’s body and mouth against yours, the sound of him rocking inside of you, the cool flesh pressing against your heated skin. You’re overwhelmed, entirely - partly from the blood loss but more so to have him here, so real and yet so unreal. Could you really have been in your bedroom, alone, hours ago? As he rocks inside you and his cock strokes all of those sweet parts of you your own fingers can never manage, it feels like you’ve never been anywhere but beneath him. Time seems to slow down.

Each thrust of his cock hits you impossibly deep, his shaft impossibly thick, fitting inside of you impossibly well. His kisses along your face and mouth and neck seem to linger for hours and stop in moments. He fits inside of you perfectly, like a glove - when he rocks out of you, his hips pulling his length so only the head of him is still inside you - you moan out in discontent to not be filled.

With every thrust as deep inside you as he can go, there’s a coil of pressure like a ribbon being tightened around you - like corset strings, threatening to snap. You can feel it when his pelvis rubs against your nub, grinding against it and sending hazy pleasure signals to your mind. Dio does not miss it either - he pulls out, murmuring platitudes at you, only to spear you again, his rhythm speeding up as you realise that the pressure is about to overwhelm you entirely.

You pant out his name, weakly.

“Dio,” you beg, as he kisses across your throat, as he growls low in his chest and his hips seem to fuck into you impossible fast. “Dio, please--”

The beg pushes him over the edge. His cock pulsates inside of you, twitching, cool seed filling you at the same time as he grinds his pelvis just so and the ball of pressure inside you that’s been threatening to snap comes all undone. He’s never come inside of you before - too much of a risk, in the old days. But as he gives you his release, he kisses your neck and he slides his fangs into your throat and he suckles hungrily at you, far more fierce than he did for any of the other marks on your body. Once more, your vision gets hazy, aftershocks of your orgasm still lapping at you even as you sigh and think;

If he kills me now, and I never wake up . . . It will have been worth it.

You do wake up, of course. You awaken tangled in sheets and scraps of what was once your nightgown, the chiffon marked all over with blood. You wake up with your skin deliciously cool and Dio’s body pressed beside yours. You look down at your own body; your skin somehow more vibrant, though there are pin prick scars all over where Dio had bitten you. You absent-mindedly bring a finger to your throat, stroking the final scar, and Dio’s golden eyes blink at you.

“Admiring my marks on you?” He murmurs, and you laugh - even your voice seems changed. Richer and prettier, the kind of voice that could convince a man to do anything for her.

“We have an eternity together now, my darling,” Dio murmurs, shifting closer to you on the bed. You let yourself be pulled into him, resting on the hard planes of his chest. “But tonight, your first kill. The true shedding of your mortal coil. Have you any thoughts? It ought to be someone . . . special. It will be such an event for you to look back on, after all. Mine certainly was.”

His mouth curves into a smirk - and you think of George Joestar. You think of what your father wouldn’t tell you. You think of Dio, fleeing from the estate, and the ruined castle with the drafty halls that you lie on a bed within even now.

You think of your father’s disapproving looks. The way he’d suggested crassly you ought to get close to Jonathan Joestar, how he’d told you not to bother at all with Dio Brando - worthless, if he wouldn’t inherit.

Oh, you’re supremely glad you bothered with Dio Brando. And wouldn’t it be poetic parallel, for both of you?

“I think,” you say, carefully, “I should like to pay one final visit to my childhood home.”

#writing #jjba #dio brando #not sfw #kidnapping #abduction #afab reader #fem pronouns #blood #vampirism #biting #marking #kinktober collection #sexy victorian sex with VAMPIRES

284 notes · View notes