#and then finds a way to twist it in his head to basically what he told mc in julian's route | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hungharrington · 8 months

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hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself.

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over.

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent.

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up.

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him.

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch.

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face.

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.”

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow.

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in.

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask.

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning.

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens.

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal.

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you.

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh.

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it.

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.”

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection.

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over.

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him.

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?”

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy.

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.”

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak.

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?”

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case.

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?”

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail.

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips.

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway.

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards.

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once.

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful.

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?”

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check.

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut.

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

#i became my own number one enemy: they fuck for almost no time at all but came so quickly #BUT #it’s beddie byes #u guys can just pretend they were already fucking on the bed before this #and changed positions <3 #jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut

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steddiecameraroll · 6 months

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ao3

What if Steve’s the one painfully pining thinking Eddie is straight.

Eddie unaware but happy he and Steve became friends after everything.

Eddie oblivious to how Steve’s cheeks turn pink when he gives Steve the blinding dimple laden smile.

Eddie blissfully living his life, eating Steve’s snacks at movie nights, and riding along in the car when the kids get dropped off at the arcade.

And months go by. Long torturous months where Steve (or really Robin) is sure he’s developing an ulcer because he always has a stomach ache.

Until Steve finally decides he can’t do this to himself any longer. He thought at least having Eddie in his life was better than not. But his heart hurts constantly and if he doesn’t cut Eddie out of his life, he knows it’ll never heal.

So he stops accepting the invitations to hang out. Comes up with excuse after excuse until Eddie stops asking.

He stops engaging in the conversations when Dustin or Lucas talk about that week’s campaign or this amazing thing Eddie did.

And he’s… fine.

Sure maybe when he’s trying to fall asleep some (most) nights he wonders if Eddie ever went to that new music store. Or if he ever found out if his weird neighbor was poisoning the stray cats or not.

He acts like the fact Eddie seems to be unfazed about the whole thing, isn’t the most painful thing ever. That Steve vanishing from Eddie’s inner circle didn’t even generate an annoying little blip for him to question it.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

Until one seemingly innocuous afternoon, when Steve is at the Hallmark store picking up a birthday gift for his mom. He’s holding something with a generic motivational quote in his hands when a bang hits the store window to Steve’s left.

He jumps at the sound and turns immediately, his body poised in a defensive stance, when his eyes register what he’s seeing.

Eddie Munson with both palms smashed against the window gawking at Steve. The man’s eyes are wide and his mouth is open and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

Steve catches his breath when he realizes he’s not in any danger, and he gives Eddie one of those mouth pressed smiles and a small nod. It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other Steve has to pretend it’s not causing him physical pain.

Then Eddie starts side stepping toward the entrance. He’s keeping his body facing Steve through the glass like he’s afraid if he looks away Steve will evaporate.

Steve knew he wouldn’t get away with never seeing Eddie again, but he had been hoping. He’s trying to ignore the desire to turn heel and find a back exit, and thinks maybe Eddie will just wanna say hi. Maybe Steve will only have to endure five minutes of interaction and they’ll go their own merry way.

“Steve!” Eddie says a little too loudly.

“Hey, man.” Steve smiles and hopes it looks friendly.

“Where have you been?” Eddie moves to stand directly in front of Steve, basically blocking him against the display table he’d been in front of.

“What do you mean?” Steve swallows a lump as he watches Eddie’s face twist into an expression of bewilderment.

“You kinda fell off the face of the earth, man. I was next door at Radio Shack and was headed to my van and thought I saw a figment of my imagination through the glass.” Eddie’s eyes suddenly dart around as of their surroundings just dawned on him. “Um…I kinda need…I’ve been thinking…can we, uh, talk? Somewhere more private?”

Steve’s mind starts flipping through possibilities of why Eddie can’t just say what he wants to say. It sounds ominous and he guesses they should get this over with. Maybe after this he’ll never have to worry about seeing Eddie ever again.

“We could go to my van? If-if you were ok with that?” Eddie quickly tacks on the last sentence.

“Sure?” Steve shrugs, sets the unimportant birthday gift on the table, and follows a step or two behind Eddie.

Eddie keeps glancing over his shoulder like he assumes Steve will dart out from behind him and book it across the parking lot. It’s making Steve nervous.

Eddie moves to the back of his van and unlocks the door, pulling it open and motioning to Steve to sit down. Steve cautiously slides his butt back onto the van, letting his legs dangle over the bumper, in case he needs to make a quick exit.

When Eddie sits down there’s an awkward amount of space between them. Steve ignores how the distance physically shows how much has changed between them.

“I…uh,” Eddie sighs then lolls his head back staring upward.

Steve can tell he’s trying to collect himself before continuing.

“Sorry, man.” Eddie chuckles nervously giving Steve a weak smile. “I wasn’t planning on doing this today so just trying to organize my thoughts.”

Steve is about three seconds away from vomiting all over the nearby asphalt. This is awful.

“I just…” Eddie turns his head to look at Steve. He looks pained, like whatever he’s about to say may crush Steve.

It probably will.

“I wanted to apologize, for…whatever it is I did. I know I’m obnoxious sometimes.” He rolls his eyes “Jeff tells me to chill out constantly.”

Steve pinches his eyebrows in confusion.

“I miss hanging out and seeing you, but I get it. You don’t give a shit about D&D or any of the other stupid things I talk about. I probably forced it and you are just too good of a dude to say anything. But that’s ok… I’ve done a lot of thinking…lately. You helped, sorta, expose something…about myself that I didn’t know.” He sighs before continuing. “I mean, I guess in theory I knew, but I just thought everyone felt like that.”

Steve feels like he’s traversing a perilous hike without a map right now, totally and completely lost.

Eddie clears his throat and fiddles with his skull ring. “I miss you. I mean, hanging out with you.”

Steve stares, unsure what to say. He probably looks like he’s short circuiting right now, because he doesn’t understand.

It’s been weeks, months even, and he never reached out. He never called or stopped by Steve’s place but he’s talking like it’s been killing him this whole time.

“I-I don’t understand.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie cocks his head.

“You missed me?”

“Yeah, of course.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Why wouldn’t I? We used to hang out all the time, Steve. I saw you more than I saw Wayne, most days.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me then?”

“Did you want me to?” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “You stopped wanting to do anything. I figured you didn’t want to see me, it was pretty obvious. I was trying to respect your wishes, dude.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say.

Eddie kicks his feet a little while he keeps his eyes pointed down at the parking lot.

“Oh,” Steve’s heart breaks for a different reason this time. “You didn’t do anything, by the way. It’s not your fault. I just needed to focus and get my shit together. My dad bitching about college again and I needed a new job. I was just sort of…distracted.”

By you

“Oh, you coulda said something. This whole time I thought you hated me. That’s a fucking relief.” Steve can sense Eddie’s entire body relax next to him.

“Opposite really,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’d you say?” Eddie leans in, his face shifting to seriousness.

“Oh nothing,” he brushes off. “Ignore me.”

“Opposite?” Eddie’s voice is pitched.

Steve’s stomach drops.

“No-no, um…”

Steve puts his palms on the floor of the van and pushes himself out of the van. He wipes his palms on his jeans. He needs to get out of here.

“I gotta go, uh, it was good seeing you, man. Um,” he wants to suggest hanging out but he can’t say the words. “Bye.”

Steve gives a finger wave and wants to smack himself in the face for how stupid it looks. He power walks away from Eddie’s van toward his car. He can get out of here unscathed.

“NO! Steve! Wait, wait,” Eddie’s chasing close behind Steve.

Steve fumbles with his keys as he tries to unlock his car door.

“Me too!”

Steve stops, his hands hovers over the door handle. Did he hear Eddie correctly?

Eddie approaches cautiously. “Me too,” he repeats quietly. “Opposite. You-that was the thing. The thing I figured out. This was it.”

Steve turns slowly.

“I missed you, Steve.” Eddie’s eyes are big and bright as if someone handed him a Christmas present. “I missed you, more than I should’ve probably. Definitely more than…a friend would.” He shrugs and pulls his bottom lip into his mouth.

Steve’s ears are ringing. The planet has shifted, he’s sure of it. Is Eddie saying what he’s been craving from the man for almost two years?

“Opposite,” Eddie whispers.

“Opposite,” Steve echoes.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Eddie says gently.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up and he stumbles back thunking his elbow against the car window. “Ow, shit.”

“Are you ok?” Eddie steps forward, reaching a hand out but avoiding touching Steve.

“Yeah,” he rubs his hand over it. “Do you-do you wanna come over? My parents aren’t home. Won’t be until Thursday.”

“That’s four days away, Steve. Are you suggesting I’ll be at your house for four days?” He twists his mouth in a sly smirk.

“Maybe, if we needed it.” Steve’s heart is pounding in his chest pleasantly now.

Eddie blushes and ducks his head. Steve can tell the man’s holding himself back.

“You coming?” Steve tilts his head.

“Fuck, I hope so,” Eddie growls.

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

#he definitely does #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiecameraroll posts #q #my writing

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neos127 · 3 months

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hot things jake does

pairing. boyfriend!jake x fem!reader (use of pet name ‘pretty girl’) genre. hcs, fluff, established relationship notes. kinda messy bc i’m just dumping my thoughts

i. biting his lip ALL THE DAMN TIME

more specifically when he’s checking you out. it sends your mind into a frenzy and you always have to tell him ‘stop looking at me like that!’ he doesn’t care, finding it cute how flustered you get from a simple action. ‘like what?’ he teases, biting his lip again. you can’t help but groan, feeling your face heat up again.

ii. playing with the rings on his fingers

jake’s hands are very attractive so watching him mindlessly twist his rings around his long fingers makes you (figuratively) drool. whenever you can, you’re holding onto his hands or kissing them. he gets all giggly when you do that, finding it cute how you have such a fascination with his hands.

iii. raking his hand through his hair

you aren’t exactly sure why you find this so attractive, but it’s jake and anything he does is enticing. he’s just so damn pretty and you can’t help but stare at him whenever he does this. you often like to run your own hands through his hair, the sound of him sighing in satisfaction makes your stomach flip.

iv. keeping a hand on your back in crowded places

jake is always glued to your side and he becomes very protective when the two of you are in a crowded space. sometimes he holds onto your hand, or grabs onto your clothing. usually he keeps a hand on your lower back, basically guiding you through the crowd. the action is very simple, but it makes you smile. even when you’ve both made it out of the crowd, jake doesn’t move his hand, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb.

v. eye contact

once jake gets out of the shy boyfriend phase, he loves to tease you. before, prolonged eye contact with you was nerve wrecking. but now, he looks to see the reaction that you have under his unwavering gaze. your face starts to heat up and you can never look at him for more than two seconds. jake will move his face closer to yours, forcing eye contact with you with a small smirk on his face. ‘why are you looking away from me, pretty girl?’

vi. wears glasses

every time jake puts on those clear glasses, an angel is born. you can’t help but squeal when you see pictures of him wearing the glasses so seeing him in person— you need a minute to take a breather. he has to know he’s hot in them, he just has to. the way jake smirks at you when he catches you staring too long, he definitely picks up on the kind of effect he has on you. ‘watchu lookin at, pretty?’ he asks, looking at you with a slight tilt to his head. you don’t say anything, reaching over kiss him. it ended up getting so intense that jake moved to take off the glasses, but you slapped his hand away. ‘keep them on, please.’

#should i make this a series🙈#enha scenarios #enha jake #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen imagines #jake sim imagines #jake sim scenarios #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun x reader

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midorisplash · 1 month

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“Can I sleep in here?”

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo × Reader

Summary: You're spending the night with the triplets and your bestie Nick makes you sleep on the couch. You don’t like it very much... so you'll find somewhere else to sleep.

Warnings: Making out, mentions of commit issues, handjob, cum eating.

A/n: cracking my knuckles with this one, first time writing in so long but I was horny.

“Chris.” You opened his door with a knock standing at the door frame. “Hm?” He groaned twisting under his sheets his head pushed into his pillows. “Chris.” You spoke again. “Can I sleep in here?” He groaned loudly and turned onto his back sitting up on his elbows. “Hm? Why?” He mumbled his voice deep and raspy. “Cause the couch is uncomfortable, and it’s dark and lonely out there.” You spoke honestly. You saw, only from the moon lighting up his bedroom a grin spread across his face. “Just sleep with Nick.” “No, he always takes all the covers from me.” You spoke rolling your eyes and walking into the room closing the door behind you. “You won’t even know I’m here. Please.”

Chris groaned and finally nodded watching as you quickly walked over crawling into bed next to him. “You’re lucky I don’t like sleeping alone and Matt didn’t want me in his room tonight.” He spoke letting his body plop onto the bed his hands coming up to rub his tired face. “Why not?” You spoke. “Cause he’s yapping about some alone time.” He huffed folding his arms. “He’s like alone all the time, how more alone can you get.” You nodded at his words. “Why do you always wanna sleep with one of them anyway?” He sighed and looked at you. “Cause I get lonely, just how you felt.” You smiled looking back at him. “Well, was good I came in here then. We needed each other's company.” He nodded and smiled at you before it quickly dropped, he blinked looking back at the ceiling.

You noticed that reaction and frowned. “What was that for?” You spoke softly. “Nothing. It's stupid.” He smiled and chuckled to himself. “That just felt too intimate..” “It’s literally wasn’t at all.” You giggled. “Yeah it was you were like ‘I’m lonely’ and I was like me too, and then we kissed that’s basically what happened.” Chris spoke. You laughed quietly nudging his arm. “It's not funny, that's what happened..” He smiled. You rolled your eyes taking a breath. “You wish. What’s so bad about it being an intimate moment between us? The thought of that's so bad you had to look away in disgust?” “Cause it didn’t feel friend intimate it felt partner intimate. And I didn't look away in that way I was just nervous.” He grumbled the last party looking back to you.

“Oh, so partner intimates not okay between us?” You whispered looking back at him. “I- I mean… I didn’t say that…Yeah, it’s cool.” He muttered clearing his throat. “Umm, so you wanna start heading to bed?” You smiled at how fast he changed the subject, you could tell he had gotten nervous and shy from the silly conversation. You wished you could see his face better the moon wasn't light enough to show you how red you knew his face was, but you could see how almost puppy-like his eyes looked. So vulnerable that small moment enough to make him look and feel that way. As his friend you knew too well about his committ issues so that explained why he was getting so shy from it feeling so intimate. “I'm not that sleepy now, I wanna keep talking If that's okay.” You spoke sitting up enough you could look down at him. “You okay Chris?” "Y-yeah I’m fine..” He spoke softly.

You had always wanted to do something with Chris but because of your relationship with him and his brothers and of course his issues, you knew it probably would never happen. But in this moment you couldn’t help but ask a simple question. The worst he could say was no. “Can I kiss you?” He blinked but to your surprise nodded pretty quickly. You smiled and looked down at his lips letting your eyes fall close as you leaned down your lips connecting with his. He kissed back trying to keep up with the pace of your movements as you licked and bit at his lip. He moaned quietly and sat up so the kiss could deepen bringing a hand to rest on your waist.

You both sat fully up Chris's back resting against his headboard your hand trailing down his chest to the hem of his pajamas. He pulled away his lips wet and puffy from all your bitting. “D-do you wanna do more? It’s up to you.” Chris whispered trying to catch his breath quietly. You smiled and nodded looking down to where your hand was resting, further down his dick creating a tight tint in his pants. Chris felt embarrassed you saw him like this and couldn’t help but turn his head away from you wanting to hide his face. You looked at him bringing your hand up to his chin to make him look at you. “Pull your pants down.” “Okay.” Chris nodded taking a deep breath and holding it bringing his hand down and lifting his hips pulling his pajamas down just enough that his hard dick sprung out from his lack of underwear.

Chris let out his breath feeling it hitch just from the way you looked at it his body starting to tremble. You placed your hand to rest on his lower stomach using your index finger to rub in a small circle down to his groin. His hips twitched up erupting a chuckle from you, looking at his face. He had his eyebrows knitted together his lip tucked under his teeth he looked so ready for any simulation of his painfully hard dick. “C-come on.” He whispered and finally looked at your eyes. You smiled looking back at him. “I can tell you haven’t been touched in a while.” You spoke bringing your hand up to your mouth spitting in it. Chris nodded watching your hand closely holding his breath as you brought it back down to his dick finally granting him some relief of wrapping your warm hand around his erection.

He let go of the breath he was holding his head falling back onto the headboard, his eyes fluttering close. “Fuck.” He moaned thrusting up a bit. You slowly started to move your hand up and down his shaft looking at him to watch his face contort. With his pre cum and your spit it made your hand glide with ease rubbing over the head of his cock making his dick twitch each time. “Look at me.” You whispered. He tried to keep his head up and his eyes open to look at you biting at his lip to suppress his most pitiful moans.

You smiled and brought your free hand behind his neck starting to scratch his head rubbing at his scalp. “Ugh…Oh my god.” He whimpered grabbing your neck gently and pulling you back into a kiss that quickly became heated. You kept a steady pace of his leaky dick making sure to rub at his slit with every other pump. Chris groaned into the kiss his hand flying to the base of his dick holding it tightly. It was so embarrassing. He didn’t want you to think of him as a sex-less loser but that’s sorta what he was. Just from a few minutes of you jerking him off, he felt his stomach gain that familiar knot daring to break at any moment. His dick twitched in your fist and his legs twisted around the bed he couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss to look at your hand working his dick. “I’m gonna cum..” He whimpered putting his hand to his side to keep himself from grabbing your hand and making you stop. The overwhelming feeling of his orgasm about to rush over him making him whine and whimper without any care who would hear. You giggled and looked at his face taking in exactly how he looked. Sp fucked out, and he hasn't even came. “Go ahead, Chris, I want you to cum.” You whispered scratching the back of his head before gripping it roughly.

“Agh fuck! Fuck me… I’m cumming!” He whined his eyes closing tightly as the knot in his stomach finally ripped apart hard his orgasm rushing through him. He thrusted up his cum spurting onto his chest and oozing onto your hand. You looked down to watch and gasped with a giggle. You didn’t stop your hand jerking him off till he rode out his orgasm shaking and wresting around his bed.

You gave him a couple more pumps then let go of his hair and dick holding your hand out in front of you. He brought his hand to his lower stomach rubbing at it in hopes to calm his shaking body down. He panted hard and loud turning his head to look at you. “T-that..that was so fast. I’m sorry.” He spoke. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I could help you cum like that, lonely boy.” You smiled bringing your hand to your face and looking at it a moment before sliding your finger into your mouth and tasting his cum.

He watched you in amazement a smile forming on his face. “Did you seriously just do that?” He spoke raising an eyebrow. “What about it, I wanted to taste you.” You smiled back sucking on your other finger. Chris rolled his eyes slightly taking a breath before speaking. “You’re amazing.” He spoke leaning in a kiss you again.

#dom!reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader

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tarjapearce · 4 months

Text

Dr. Michael Stone (Pt. 2)

Art and Character by: Spiderthingcoo on X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, forced voyeurism, body exploration, edging, double v penetration, female anatomy, rough and drugged induced sex, manhandling, substance abuse, 3some-ish, rimming (m receiving) nudity appreciation, breeding kink, a bit of dacryphilia, Objectification, overstimulation, filthyness undercut, no proofread, bit of cum play, bellybulge, electrocution, Michael is a sick fuck and I love him.

Miguelverse

Summary: Michael Stone has the time of his life.

A/N: I got too carried away and the fanart didn't help jskjs, hope you enjoy <3

Time ran at the speed of a snail. Each blink was torture, like you were removing seconds from the clock with each brief pause of your eyes.

How long have you been here? Certainly too fed up with trying in succeeding to escape. There was no punctual way to determine in which part of the day you were as there was no windows, no clocks, or anything of the sort that dictated the unstoppable force that always outlasted everything within reach.

Just dull pale grey walls, borderline white in every direction your sight stretched. Which wasn't much.

Your new habitat, was minimalistic, decored with the basics to sate physiological needs such as sleep, shower or pee. Ceiling too lowered to crawl or stretch your muscles properly when you tried to keep mobility going.

A fancy cage, nothing much, nothing less.

How long had it been since he slammed the door shut? Days? Week?

You didn't know. And the lack of a sense of time was irrevocably screwing with your head in a way it resembled how Michael had fucked your insides. There was no sun to bath in, no wind to blow and mess with your hair as you swung through the buildings, providing the right amount of adrenaline, no structures to crawl or stretch your muscles completely on. No external stimulus.Nothing.

Just a few meters of space that caged you like a live sample for a maniac's twisted experimenting and amusement. Fed and cleaned whenever you required it. It sometimes blurred the line between being a pet and a Guinea pig.

Just your cell, withering away your spirit. Even the food provided, lacked that homey seasoning you adored indulging in HQ's cafeteria after a mission. The only rift of color popping in the tray and around you were the vast array of vitamins and minerals, shaped in round and squared pills, nested within a metallic cup.

Cause according to him, if his offspring was to emerge within you, your body had to be properly nurtured. Ironically, the food was bland and tasteless, but you didn't starve. And it spooked you how easy your body took a liking to it.

Skin healthier, glowing and silky even, a soft natural flush dressed your cheeks, metabolism in its peak, a couple of pounds were lost, but that was the least of your concerns.

He was set into perfecting the vessel for his future seedling. You.

Michael was... You didn't even know where to start besides being the obvious doppelganger of Miguel. The only way you could tell them apart was because of his eyes. They were brown, like the most scrumptious shade of chocolate you've ever seen.

Unlike Miguel, he just took what he wanted and needed, everything in the name of science. He was the embodiment of 'the end justifies the means'.

Alluring, inviting you to a forbidden and fucked up world where he was the unanimous and dangerous sovereign. Like his whole aura. His impassive act was only a coy facade to hide what was underneath.

Madness, lust and something so dern you didn't want to try and decipher cause in truth, you were terrified to fuck around and find out. He had already gave you a little taste of his abyss, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you to drown in him and everything that rendered his mere existence.

He needed to crown a queen for his chaos. And what a better way to do it, than choosing you to give him a perfect offspring.

In his own twisted world the need of a superior being was a must. A need he was creating the proper foundation to sate.

He was prepping you to bare his child. And it scared you to no end. Not that you didn't want kids, but to be forced to fit into that role out of sudden scared you shitless.

And you didn't want to sour and make your thoughts awkward by knowing a variant of Miguel would be the father.

Fuck. No.

If your mind could have arms, it surely would've slapped itself for such thought. Not that you didn't think Miguel was handsome, in fact, you avoided being seen as that recruit that had the hots for the boss, lingering too much around him made you more nervous than you liked to admit.

And when you were paired with him, the anxiety of knowing you could mess up went heavenwards. Your Miguel wasn't one to dwell into conversations if they weren't necessary, canon before personal interests came first and always, awkward social skills that came out stilted and forced almost mechanically, specially when someone caught him off guard or in the high level of stress his gorgeous brain fed him on a daily basis.

Grumpy was his default emotional read, snarky or dry humored replies when dumb questions were asked, overworked to the bone. Secretly labeling himself as a bad man cause of the things he needed to do in order to keep the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse working, a walking failure through and through, weak for meeting his emotional needs and trying to be happy for once and failing at it, and apparently the only one that knew how to keep everything together.

And still, the first one that always replied the call for help by either sending a group, or creating an escape plan route to ensure your and the rest's safety with the help of Lyla.

Unlike him. The man in the flesh and bone, that would easily supplant him physically, and had been watching you ever since you awoke. You didn't have to turn to him to know his presence had invaded your already reduced and secluded space.

Brown coals raked over the slope of your neck, the dip between your shoulder and junction, gaze remained over your rising form in every disguised breath you took, hoping he'd go away. Long and tan fingers tangled softly in the silks of your hair and the touch alone made your skin crawl, and not precisely in a good and pleasant way, no.

Whenever he was around your spider senses tingled, sometimes you'd end up with a headache, unable to shut it off. You didn't have to look deep enough to know he was as messed up and unpredictable as the task he had bestowed upon you.

"Eres tan perfecta..." his impish titter made your heart wrench and anxiety to bubble in the deepest of your gut.

In other circumstances you'd be a flustered mess, flattered even to have such kind of man groveling over you. But this one in specific had you coiling away from his touch, hoping to vanish into thin air or turn invisible like Miles.

God, you really wanted to have Mile's invisibility powers right now, so at least you could have a chance to escape. But dreaming had gone out the window ever since he dumped you here.

He never lingered too much, even when he did routine checkups on you. Blood and other fluid samples were taken, he made sure you ate the bland and soggy looking food 'til nothing but crumbs were left, and then he'd leave to do whatever he did in the lab and wouldn't return until your next feeding time.

The only thing he had in common with your Miguel was the workaholic attitude. He'd spend hours if not days tinkering with canisters and things you low key feared to know their components. You've noticed the little parts of limbs floating in some recipients, none of them human.

What kind of things this Alchemax did? Cause the little you had seen so far wasn't nice nor pretty.

Alchemax took seriously their research, and with this man on charge, you didn't want to even think about what kind of ungodly horrors they harbored. There was a little slapping in the air as he removed his gloves, and it was your chance to crawl away.

Rough pads thrummed over your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, breath hitched as he beckoned your forearm, the only part of you that budged, towards him in a demanding pull.

"Haven't had the time to properly examine these." he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as his thumbs squeezed soft circles, soothing the previous pressure's discomfort.

You gulped as he narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the tiny circular slits indented in your wrist, a pale pinkish hue rimmed the tiny hole. The way he admired and looked with child-like wonder at your web shooters was overwhelming.

Cheeks grew warmer as the tip of his nose ran up your forearm to finally stop on the shooters. A soft salty musk emanated from them.

"Organic webbing... Fascinating." He crooned.

He closed his eyes to relish in the smell of your skin. A shaky breath came off your lips as his moist tongue rubbed a kitten lick on it, a bolt of electricity flooded your senses and earned him a whimper. Eyes immediately shifted on you, pupils widening.

Much to your dismay both had accidentally unveiled a borderline gruesome breakthrough. The twinkle in his eyes made your brows twitch in worry. Your neck gulped and his eyes caught the fraction of movement to then smirk.

Pearly whites shone with twisted pride upon the discovery.

"W-Wait-"

The tip of his tongue pressed harder on the slit and you couldn't help but moan. A lovely and surprising melody to his keen ears at your reactions.

Web shooters were a sensitive and therefore an erogenous area.

You tried yanking your arm away, but your knees trembled when he delivered a wriggle of the tip of his tongue, trying to worm into your veins, prodding and tasting unabashedly at your dint.

With every coil of his moist muscle your brain sparked alive, neurotransmitters soaring in wicked delight. Your teeth clamped on your lower lip, stifling another upcoming moan.

The wet sounds and pops of his mouth made your insides clench involuntarily. Legs smothered together, as he now sucked. His lips pursed in that familiar shape it reminded you the way he ate your engorged and sensitive nub.

Head split in two, fighting over what side of reasoning you'd agree with. One side was ashamed such ministrations from your wretched captor turned your unwilling body like puty within seconds in his dexterous hands, and with this newfound information, his power over you just increased tenfold.

Or aghast for allowing such thing, for allowing him to cage you against the bed and his formidable frame while he devoured and toyed with your wrists, and for him to make you feel revered like no man ever had, even if it was for the wrongest of reasons. Brown eyes stared at your countenance with such curiosity and enthrall, as if you were everything he needed. Like his prayers had been answered and delivered in silver platter with you on it, right in his hands.

It didn't help your shaky resolution he squeezed and draped his other thumb in your other slit. Rubbing in lazy circles, pressing the right amount to have your clit throbbing and your mouth panting. The vibrations of his low groan on your skin sent your brain in tiny shortcuts, your synapses were howling.

A shiny streak of his saliva connected with the left wrist. The irisdiscent shine of your webs connected to his bottom lip.

"Tad salty" His tongue licked the web away, His thumb moved in a back and fro motion, alternating between circles and soft licks from his thumb pad.

"Hnng-" Your toes curled in, as your hips stuttered but he grounded his even more on yours, preventing you from shifting too much.

"Stop squirming" He huffed, annoyed, trying to focus his sight on the tiny crevice.

"F-Fucking stop then" you panted in angry breaths

Michael smirked, genuinely amused at your unexpected reaction.

"Why would I? This is the most exciting part of the research."

Shit.

He took your other wrist and kissed the dent, your eyes went shut as he pressed both wrist above your head. Thumbs kneading with a bit more of pressure right above your tiny holes. And God, it was embarrassing hearing yourself mewl like a needy bitch.

How couldn't you notice such thing about yourself after so many years of being a Spiderwoman?

Fuck

And why the fuck were you about to cum while having your wrists stimulated? But more importantly, was he really having a boner by toying with you?

"God, you're a pervert..."

You couldn't help but mumble and he pressed tighter on purpose, sending a muffled whimper through your throat, silencing your yapping.

"I rather the term, Man of science, pequeña. Now stay fucking still."

But you couldn't, not when he kneaded so closely to a spot that send your mouth gaping like a fish out of water, begging to be thrown back in the liquid oxygen. He pressed two inches away from the bitty hole, and that was it.

Jaw clenched and your spine arched. His brow quirked with clinical curiosity at your thrashing despair. Breaths paused and shallow, still deciding whether to moan or sob.

"Nmh-Fuck, fuck, oh my god-" Your eyes rolled back, and your insides clamped. Brain vaporising any coherent thought, mouth too busy catching air and sputtering dumb babble at the consuming climax. Contracting and pulsing at nothing as the little dent squirted a silky and sticky rope towards the wall with a soft Thwipsh. He blinked nearly stupidly at what he had just achieved, cracking his apathetic stare for good.

"Dios mío..." He pressed again and again and you sobbed as the web spurted hapzardly, diverting in every direction and etching to whatever surface it touched or landed. He stared with wide eyes between you and the webs. Limp limb suspended in the air.

Toes curled and clenched at the bedsheets, attempting to anchor yourself at the overwhelming sensations that clouded your judgement. Head spun and buzzed with the thrill not even you achieved when handling those annoying reminders of your solitude in your own hands.

For once your spider senses tingled deliciously. His cock twitched almost painfully at what he just witnessed, he groaned and cupped your face to deliver a deep and breathtaking kiss.

"I knew someday, all my work would be rewarded. All those sleepless nights, those sacrifices, would bring someone like you to me."

He panted, examining you with wicked excitement, shaking you softly in his aroused wake.

"You and I, will create something so beautiful even God will be jealous!."

If it wasn't for the ominous meaning behind those words, you'd be amazed and moved at his overboard thrill. He rested his head on your lower belly, a dark grin plastered over his face, fingers padded your skin, warmth spreading through his hand.

Where are you, Miguel?

"I can't wait to see you swollen, carrying the future of this earth, pequeña."

I'm scared

But as quickly as he laid down, he bolted out of your cell, too enraptured in his musings to actually care for your rattled state.

Now that his motives were clear, your need to escape was greater. But maybe if you played your cards well, you'd have a chance.

I need you.

----

The table landed on the wall, shattering in smaller shards that splintered all over the place. Michael's back rose and tensed so tight, his lab robe wrinkled, trapping the fabric in between his muscles.

The corner of his lip twitched, almost like a tick, teeth menaced with baring, fury boiling underneath his skin. If he could, the steam would blow off his ears, but instead he prowled over your unsuspecting and sleeping form in the very back of the lab. Mind assaulting his reasoning with so many questions, but one in particular made his hands to clench into tight fist.

Why weren't you pregnant?

He had came inside in your most dangerous and fertile days, and still, you weren't pregnant.

As much as he was a patient man, he was throughly disappointed at his own failure. Was his seed defective? No.

He had run studies on himself and his results were everything a desperate man in need of children could ask for.

Fertile, fruitful, healthy.

And still, the screen shone brighter on the 'Negative' results.

Hot and furious breath fanned over the glass wall where he saw you sleeping. He'd have to run even more tests on you, start all over and wait for another two weeks.

But what if your body refused him again? Your womb's rejection was an open slap on his face, when he had been nothing but kind to you. He had been taking care of you with the best things, and this is how you repaid him.

It frustrated him beyond reason. But he was a patient man. Weeks were nothing compared to all the time he had already waited. With a final huff, he returned to his lab to correct your stupid hormonal imbalance that was costing him his valuable time and resources.

However, a Public Eye officer barged in, breath in his throat. His personal hounds, and whenever they came in, it only meant one thing. They had found something, and by the scratches and claw like marks on the officer's bleeding shoulder, meant it was something good.

You had to wait for a moment longer.

-----

"Lyla"

Miguel's gruff whisper came behind the corner of the structure he was in. Lyla appeared right on his shoulder.

"Any readings?"

"Some-" She froze for a second, "Ssft-"

Her yellow shade glitched to then appear right before him, she was speaking, but Miguel could barely understand her.

Fuck.

The place's interference was messing up with her programming. His gizmo popped with a message, your location. Beeping in a bright yellow dot within the ever tall and imposing Alchemax building in the middle of the city, like a watchtower.

Your last signal. Earth S-2015.

If you were here, he was sure you'd quip up something about a movie reference, something about a Mordor, whatever the thing meant, to lighten up the mood. He'd never admit it, but it always made him a bit curious as to what you watched or did to entertain yourself. The things you spoke were beyond absurd and still, he listened, inwardly pondering as to what kind of substances your universe used to get that sort of inspiration, but now there was nothing but silence at his side. And he grew tired of it.

No matter how much he had tried to recover or track you, the signal vanished into thin air. And he wasn't happy. At first he thought the gizmo's self restart feature would bring the signal back, but days kept passing, and nothing happened, he even went to the extent of rewiring the trinket's code to see if there was anything between lines, but there was nothing after the current location he was in.

Miguel swung through the buildings, avoiding the constant and alert drones soaring through the sky. Alchemax safety propaganda was plastered all over the place, but this earth's inhabitants looked everything but happy. Unlike his wonderful and manageable utopia he had helped to improve.

Fear was forever etched in their faces, constantly moving, never lingering too much around those mean looking officers. The Public Eye.

Their image all over the city, with low key subduing messages as 'Keep The order', 'Report any anomaly in the nearest station.' It set perfectly with the gloomy, authoritarian and heavy atmosphere of this universe. Chaos brewing in the darkness, awaiting to be unleashed.

His gut felt queasy. He might not have spider senses, but intuition never failed him. And right now it was telling him to find you and get the fuck out as soon as possible. Precisely in that order. He didn't want to pull out a Miles, even if he wanted to on this wretched world. Frustrating as it was, Earth S-2015 was a necessary evil, like his ruler and his major minion.

Not that you were incapable of fending for yourself, one of the main reasons he didn't act right away, but knowing who was in this place, and the possibilities, made his chest constrict with a new wave of underlying anxiety and dread as there was no Spider in this earth to protect it.

His watch buzzed a bit too late with a new message from Lyla.

RUN!!!!

A hoard of drones shoot his way, creating a sequential line of explosions, he dodged, tore, and crashed the drones against eachother, as if they were bugs pestering him.

"Look! Another one!"

Some officers didn't wait to appear and shoot their best shots at him. They fired and Miguel fought back, talons in hands, ripping and tearing flesh.

They had taken you, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.

Mierda...

He took one officer by his neck, masked face came into view as his teeth bared.

"The other one, where is she?!" he seethed but the man was stupid enough to oppose. He thrashed, which only added gasoline to Miguel's already blazing fury. Talons dug in the man's tender flesh, but even so, the officer had managed to impale a needle on his arm. It's liquid immediately melting into Miguel's muscles.

It stung.

With a hiss, Miguel let the man go, too focused on the sudden burning sensation spreading through his arm and body like a wildfire. Breathings took a couple of seconds to turn erratic, lights flickered and dances before his eyes.

Concéntrate, mierda! (Fucking focus)

The remaining officers jumped on him, using their subduing tools on him, an electrical shock here and there, a couple of stabs that had him kneeling, punches that definitely got all air out of his scorching lungs. It hurted to breath, to move, to see. His photophobia was rampant as lights were suddenly on him.

Miguel tried to cover his eyes but punches kept coming, he lunged and swung back to nothing but air, as his faculties were in a painful sensorial overload. The last thing he could manage in between blurry and prancing lights was the officer's wicked smile, stretching. Darkness claimed him.

----

"Me estás hartando, quédate quieta de una vez!" (I'm getting tired of this, stay still!)

The lack of exercising had made you slow, he didn't give you enough time to fight back when dragging you by the ankles while you were in the best of your nap. The alerts in your body kicked a bit too late, and like he had done before, his hips grounded yours, suffocating their squirming as his hand squeezed the wrists, needle menacing on his other hand, a pinkish liquid shook within.

"Fuck you!"

With a low growl he smashed your hands against the mattress, earning him a painful yelp, and it was his chance to sink the needle on your neck, a sting that immediately stifled your body, a brief itch spreaded through before turning into a cool shot of drug.

"Don't worry... We'll get to it later. But I need your body cooperating first."

You tried batting his hands away, but he held your face, and you gulped. He was staring.

Michael Stone was staring at you.

Thrill, joy, and something eldritch within his beautiful eyes. It scared as it intrigued you.

"What did you just put in me!?"

His nose nuzzled on the crook of your neck and crooned, "Nothing you should worry about, pequeña. Just a little enhance that will take my investigation to the next level."

His nose revelled up to your neck, body shuddering with the soft kisses left imprinted on your skin. It confused you.

One moment he treated you like the best thing he had ever had, and the next he manhandled you like a rag doll, pumping whatever substances he thought right into your bloodstream.

"Ger'off me!" A backlash and he chuckled.

"You're amusing. Might keep you as a pet once my child is born." He frowned suddenly, like if an idea had came into mind, pondering.

"Or not, I could grow it on my own... But, no no. It wouldn't be the same, wouldn't it?." His peering landed on your abdomen, ready to see it plump. "Call. me traditionalist in that way, but there is nothing more beautiful than seeing life growing within a perfect specimen." His eyes twinkled.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that?"

"You loved having this sick fuck inside, pequeña. Your mouth might be spilling nonsense, but your cunt" He cupped it suddenly, shutting you up right away, "neither data lies."

A thick lump was swallowed down your throat.

"Rest well, I've got a surprise for you."

The smirk on his lips was everything but a good omen. And the heat increasing on your body didn't help. Hormones were slowly coming to a riot, spider tingle ringing harder for a moment.

Great.

Fingers rubbed on where he sunk the needle, wishing that for once he wouldn't use the thick ones. A tiny red smudge came into the pad of your fingertip.

Asshole.

----

Disgust, curiosity and repulsion.

Those were the main reads on Miguel's bruised face when Michael was before him, having a taste of his lips, but quickly backed up upon feeling the prong of his fangs grazing at his tongue. Miguel spat away his taste.

"Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" (Fuck you, asshole)

"Oh" His smirk went wider, almost wicked. He wasted no time in securing his grip on Miguel's chin to probe and poke at his mouth, revelling at every single thing within his structure.

"This is... perfect! With you and my vessel, we'll create-"

Michael jumped backwards as Miguel tried to lunge for him, but to no avail, chains clinked on his feet and wrists, restraining him.

"Now, now. What happened to that... friendly neighborhood thing your species used to preach? Is it a ruse?"

Miguel's fury burned brighter than the sun, he was ablaze, the Ethyl Chloride still railed within his bloodstream. He'd have to wait a bit more, just a bit for it's effects to leave his system and he'd free himself.

Never in his life had the urge of hurting someone came so strong on him, but he needed to be as collected as possible if he wanted to find you.

Even if his evil twin's hand roamed over his chest, measuring and probing his physiology. What's with everyone trying to get a piece of him?

His sight landed on something that undeniably belonged to you, a piece of your suit, under a microscope. Michael followed Miguel's line of sight and smiled, naturally, proud even.

"She's been a good specimen. The best one I've got so far."

A cold shudder ran down Miguel's back, eyes immediately on him, venom dripping in his words as they came out in a growl

"What have you done?"

Michael shrugged nonchalant, pride swelling up his chest. "Nothing but my work, Mr. O'Hara. And now that I've got you, you'll help me too."

"Te juro que si has hecho algo para lastimarla-" (I swear if you've done something to hurt her)

"Oh no, no. Im not that kind of monster." Michael tinkered with some tubes as he pulled a couple strands off Miguel's head. The Boss shook his head away from his tweezers.

"But she can get annoying sometimes. Nothing that pleasure helps to shut her up"

Miguel's eyes went wide, horror and anger in tandem within his crimson gaze.

His talons poked out, itching to tear the man before him, until he was nothing but bloody chum, fuck the canon, fuck this dimension. He'd do everyone a favor, unlike the first time he broke the rules.

"But dread not. Tonight is very special" Michael smiled at Miguel, but it didn't reached his eyes. The same pink liquid he injected on you was now flowing in Miguel's veins, thanks to thw needles in his shackles.

"Mating season is around the corner , isn't it?"

Miguel scowled, wary as Michael made his arms and legs restricted to the metallic wall of his confinement, hitting his head in the process. A wave of pain invaded Miguel's skull.

"I won't hurt her, no. But I won't allow you to take her away from me."

Michael pressed a button, sending shockwaves through Miguel's body, suit glitching out, until it disappeared, leaving a bare, righteous doppelganger of himself at his feet, panting, gritting his teeth and growling in pain.

Michael leered at Miguel unabashedly, smoke oozed from his shimmery tan skin, and the madman nodded, pleased.

"You spider-folk are unique and wonderful creatures indeed."

It was the last thing Miguel heard before another electrical and unexpected shock subdued him to darkness.

----

Miguel

His mind was a puddle. Nothing coherent could properly take shape in his brain. His body was heavy, doused in a borderline painful heat, the same sort of feeling he'd get once his body entered this spider-like urge to mate.

Miguel!

The voice calling him was familiar, but it's tinge sent a delicious pulsation right to the tip of his already twitching cock.

Wake up!

Leaden-lids parted enough to take in his surroundings again, consciousness returning to his empty body. But as it did, the strong tidal waves of his arousal drowned him in.

It didn't help he kept hearing these delicious mewls and pants, begging for him to do something simple as to wake up. The constant slaps of flesh and the breathless moans made a trail of precum escape his flushed and sensitive tip. Thick veins decored his pulsating girth, aching painfully to sink in something. To be wrapped in nothing but snug zeal.

"F-Fuck... Wake up, please!"

Another garbled moan that ended in an acute whimper. And that made him growl. His toes curled in, bleary sight finally taking focus on what was going on.

He could only blink at the scene. Stupid and high in need. Dying to be free and unleash himself.

"Ohmygod-" you hiccuped, watching him, flushed cheeks, mouth gaping and panting, exhaling deep and sweet mewls his body yearned to induce

"Miguel!"

You called, waking him up despite your insides getting a good rearrangement by Michael. The latter was too keen in watching his reaction as he smacked himself against you, his cheeks reddened in want.

You were spreaded like a book ontop of the sitting madman, back colliding with his bare chest, hands cuffed within two metallic hoops, hooked behind Michael's head; cunt swallowing him inside, choking with his continuous thrustings, slapping the back of your ass over and over as his hands kept your thighs apart and close to your chest, providing Miguel with a 4K image of your bullied and glistening pussy.

The way Michael pushed in so swiftly made Miguel's cock to erupt with another pre cum bead. Your breast swayed and bounced at the rough pace settled underneath. A rhythmic slap, like a perfect metronome for an obscene and wet melody.

The little rational part of Miguel told him, demanded him to look away. To spare you some shame, but his body had been rewired in such way he was unable to tear his oggling away, cause he could feel the need to break the chains and do a better job than Michael. He'd destroy you. He needed to.

Michael's hands made you hold the back of your own thighs, so he could plow deeper. And your spine arched as your toes curled, legs shook and a sweet acute cry echoed through the lab, announcing your first orgasm.

Miguel's sore cock twitched. Begging him to jump into action. His mouth watered as your pussy swallowed Michael's cock so deep and tight that a frothy, creamy ring nested at the base of his tightened balls, contracting as the madman came inside your snug hole.

Your arousal awakened a primal need in him, to the point that his talons dug in the fat of his palm, cutting skin and bleeding, like his bottom lip. Plump mouth heaved, his throat rumbled with gutural growls the more he stared, hypnotized at your post-bliss face.

Miguel whimpered, like a kicked dog, a deep flush invading his heaving countenance.

"Seems the serum is also making effect"

Michael slicked his hair back and gave an excited sigh, "I think it's time to see his performance, right?"

Michael pushed you away from his body, Bambi-like legs failed their attempt to hold your whole frame. You fell on the ground with a wheeze. Miguel immediately lunged, but his restrains held him back, prevented him from achieving his main goal.

Crimson eyes turned darker, nearly matching Michael's. The latter pressed a button and the collar on Miguel fell with a clank on the floor.

"M-Miguel" it was difficult to find your voice when it was scrapped raw and dry, but still, you had to try.

"We... we gotta leave. Do you hear me?"

Of course he did, but his mating cycle was on peak, thanks to Michael. He had messed up the natural process by accelerating his heat prematurely.

Why would he leave when he was about to wreck you?

His feet were unlocked. You gave Michael a pleading look while trying to crawl away. When the last lock clicked free, your breath hitched.

It felt like a slow motion as you looked over your shoulders, marked with hickeys Michael left. Pupils wide blown as Miguel lurched forward, stalking and hovering over you. Cock smearing his pre cum in whatever skin it landed, marking you with his scent as he manhandled your hips up, aligning them with his girth.

His hand was big enough to keep your whole head on the floor. Michael cackled as Miguel sunk in deep in a powerful roll of his hips, earning a stuttering grunt through clenched teeth from you.

The fat of your ass trembled, your clasped hands curled underneath your torso, in dire need of holding onto something, cause Miguel merciless plows were fucking any coherent thought.

Your whole body shook underneath him, cunt ever tight, your juices and Michael's cum made him easier to delve in a pace you knew would scrap your knees, cause he wasn't stopping nor waning.

Michael circled you both, hand on his cock, stroking himself at the sheer display of primal desire. The whole show made him hard, specially when seeing your engorged clit peeking underneath Miguel's jackhammering frame, flushed from the unceasing beating the hero's balls provided it.

"Just like that" Michael husked, and whimpered as you did nothing but sputter nonsensical and lewd blabbering.

Miguel's fingertips sunk tighter as they grope your hips firmly to keep you from lurching forward, despite him plunging into you with abandonment, as if with every thrust he'd say take it.

Take it for disobeying.

Your toes curled in and your jaw slacked open, unable to keep it together.

Take it for not following instructions.

"M... Mig-"

Bendito... He was just starting and you were already clamping onto him in a grip so tight it only matched the way he was holding your beautiful and generous hips.

"You're almost there, Mr. O'Hara! Keep it going!"

One specific thrust had your eyes watering and rolling back. A pathetic and incomplete scream made Michael to kneel behind you both. His eyes were too dazed in how Miguel fucked you. Dancing up and down, like the strokes of his hands on his cock.

Miguel secured your head in a tight headlock that cut your air supply enough to clench on him, again. Strong biceps trapped your airy head, clouded with a biting desire that came stronger every time you breathed.

Michael groaned when Miguel pulled a last thrust, sheathing to the hilt, forcing a powerful and milky kiss on your cervix. The madman's mouth wasted no time to sink in between Miguel's firm glutes, tasting him, squeezing and pushing him towards his face, tongue fucking the tight hole, earning a low but stuttering growl from a surprised Miguel. Glasses fogging at the rising temperature.

"Fucking delicious." He mumbled with a smack of his lips to focus his attention in your flushed and sensitive cunt. When Miguel pulled out, Michael was already pushing him away, to then prowl at your throbbing cunt, gathering the leaking cum on his tongue, revelling in the taste as he pushed it back inside with a soft dribble.

"W-Wait" You hissed, his moist muscle had been wonderful once, but right now it felt rough. Flesh too sensitive to the touch.

Miguel staggered, body overridden with a relentless urge to be inside you again, but his body screamed for a rest, the venom still lingered on his muscles. Michael on the other hand, cradled and sunk you once more ontop of him.

"The more you take, the more chances you'll get pregnant are." He explained underneath you. Tears rolled down your flustered cheeks, overstimulated and pearled, glowy skin by the thin layer of sweat etched in every slope and dint in your body.

Michael licked them with a groan while his hips smacked yours in a slow but deep, deep rut, pulling the last coherent thoughts through muffled groans and hiccuping mewls, while you shook your head vehemently.

"You're so perfect, pequeña"

"T-Too much" you croaked

Michael sunk you in a swift move, as his slapping hips met yours upwards, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"No, no. you can. You're strong, bonita. You can take me." His crooning was eerie, yet so alluring it blurred the line between monster and devotee.

Pleasure clung to your brain with such force it was dizzying. Every pore of your body oozed with the pheromones the serum produced, creating a tantalizing smell that lured Michael and Miguel's attention.

The grumpy hero could only watch you squirm as another cock that wasn't his, wrecked your insides in a tortuous pace.

"Fuck" He grunted, feeling the consuming and mind numbing drug licking at every inch of his cinnamon skin, imploring to feel you again.

Even though the Ethyl Chloride's effect had been long gone, the serum reacted to your pheromones. Meaning he'd need to provoke one more peak to have the effects completely worn out.

He'd feel sorry and awful all he wanted later, his priority was to get you out of this madman's claws. But...

It was impossible not to think in how good you felt, how delicious your whole body contorted while witnessing the way Michael subdued you to ride him as he captured one of your nipples in his urgent mouth. Lovely and plump bumps of flesh jiggled at the tempo, outer folds that without a doubt would be so sensitive to the touch, parted and guzzled Michael's veiny cock.

Miguel crawled to you both.

How well you had taken them each., Adjusting perfectly at their sizes, like a perfect flesh sleeve.

He hovered over the both and smoothed away the strands of hair that stuck on your flushed and gorgeously fucked out face.

The heat was consuming, and Michael's pace wasn't enough. The madman noted you were reaching the peak of the serum functionality as you urged your wobbly hips clumsily on his.

Despite you not being able to properly verbalise your pleasure, you still sought it. Michael's wicked fantasies came true when Miguel pushed you tighter against him, as if wanting to flush your body and Michael's as one being, just to have a proper glimpse of the sight that had him guiding his tip towards your already stuffed entrance.

Detente (Stop)

But he couldn't, he couldn't stop himself from entering you, knees flexing as he lowered his pelvis, pushing inch my inch deeper. Earning an ascending pleasurable wail from you.

Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched, baring your teeth as he also sheathed inside, womb so full it bulged.

Michael's laugh echoed through the room. Everything had came as planned.

"Let's make you a wonderful mother, mi pequeña."

Oh my god.

A panting groan escaped as Michael moved in first, igniting the painfully delicious friction inside you. He wasn't only stimulating you, but Miguel as well. The snug crevice too tight for them to coexist in peace, yet there they were, fighting over who pulled the last peak and thread of rationality out of you.

Their cocks pumping and prodding had your spine arching. Miguel grabbed a fistful of your front strands and pulled backwards, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, letting your chest exposed to Michael. He wasted no time into pushing both of your breasts together, tongue alternating between the left and right.

Sucking, lapping, wriggling his hot muscle on your taut peaks, making a mess out of them by creating more hickeys in every inch of salty tasting visible skin.

"Michael!" You whimpered and it was enough for Miguel to plow harder. The sinful makeout session of their cocks inside your walls made you pant, beg and laugh like a total loon.

A streak of saliva escaped the corner of your gaping mouth. Head lolled back and fro, fried brain with the lust both men induced you, floating on cloud nine. You didn't want to come down to earth, much less when Miguel and Michael's groans and moans over you, urged you to be the best cum dumpster ever.

Miguel pulled your handcuffed hands underneath your chin, beckoning your lips to his. His mouth suffocated any future moan as you bounced on both.

Your one and only boss didn't need you wailing his name to know you ached for him. But Michael was set into having a proper taste out of you both.

He pulled you closer, pushing deeper inside you. Michael's lips erased all trace of Miguel's on yours, to then kiss Miguel. To his surprise, Miguel didn't oppose, too gone in the sensations this mass of tangled limbs offered.

Michael hands roamed your body and Miguel's, feeling his own climax approach.

Hearing Miguel's animalistic growls on your ear, made your clit throb. He pounded with every fiber of his body, urging you to reach the stars and play with them.

Your cunt soaked them, too wrecked and ruined to care. Like your mind. It didn't matter who fucked better, all your body asked was fresh cum, deep in your womb.

The serum coaxed you to move faster, almost matching the rhythm of their whomps. The sound of your greedy and drooling hole being battered was music to their ears.

Michael whimpered and his spine arched, finally reaching his peak, spurting his hot sticky scent inside. Miguel hissed and held Michael close, watching him.

Limbs nearly cramped as they curled in, hands fisted tightly on each side of his trembling body, eyes rolled back, mouth panting, head too heavy to think straight. And that's when Miguel sunk his fangs on his neck, injecting his paralyzing venom on his bloodstream.

A pornographic and slurred moan erupted from Michael, his wicked smirk widened as his body slowly but surely, lost all control of his nerves, unable to command them to move.

Miguel had to resist the urge to come inside. He knew he had a couple of minutes before Michael regained mobility, and as heavenly as you felt, he pulled out of you, drowning his orgasm with regained self control, earning a small hissing as he pulled you out too, gently, off Michael.

Legs and body refused to cooperate. With clumsy steps he stood, taunting the surfaces for support. He slanted against the table, gasping for air.

Miguel shook his head and threw a quick look to Michael, still on the floor, but now groaning in discomfort. Even his tongue had numbed out.

Miguel didn't waste time and sauntered over the next table where pieces of his gizmo laid neatly arranged in a metallic tray. He swept them all in a container, along the tubes filled with his samples.

Like Hobie, he took other parts of machinery in a quickened pace to finally grab a couple of lab robes. He wore one and covered your overworked body, to then throw you above his shoulder.

"Nos vamos." (We're leaving)

Michael groaned, loudly. Anger was felt in every gurgle his throat did. Despair widened in the only thing that still remained movable in his numb face. They darted between you and Miguel, begging him to leave you there.

He groaned again, losing sight once Miguel swung with you from a window.

"Hold on tight if you can" Miguel's voice cooed as you two escaped.

-----

Michael had to douse some pain killer spray on the two slits done in his neck.

How could he not forsee this? How could he miss something so obvious that ended up messing his one decade old plan?

He let his emotion get the best out of him, fouling up his usual calculating judgment, replacing it with excitement.

A Public Eye squad remained before him, awaiting for his orders.

"Find them. I need the woman alive, understood?"

"What about the... other one? The monster?" The same officer Miguel had sliced through and marked, spoke.

The lights in the screen gave Michael a sinister red hue on his face, light reflecting on his glasses.

"He's not a monster, Johnson." Dr. Stone smirked, copying your information in his database, "There can't be two of us."

Johnson, the captain, nodded. The squad obeyed, and the hunt was on.

Taglist: (I apologize if your blog isn't able to be tagged, tumblr is... tumblr)

@smokeywhalee @maomaimao @beingdeluluisthesolulu @byjessicalotufo @darkfairy102190 @angel-of-the-moons @bunnibitez @decaffeinatedplaidwinnersoul

@thealleydog @sariespi @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @barryatsumu @missylo @fistsuptitsup @lazy-idate @crimsonriot06-7 @uraritychain @little-lovelace @llama--drama @deathlypickles @cupidojenphrodite @@nostalgicdaira @homewreckingwreck @millliko @tatatida @melday0105 @scaryplanetdestroyer @minispidey @miranexx @migueloharacumslut @keepghostly @ion-news @misswonderfrojustice @kishimiest @prctty-birdie @migueloharacumslut @the-true-tato-god @1biggestsimpofalltime @catfwngz @drefear

#t writes✨#Michael Stone #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman

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cherienymphe · 4 months

Text

Teenage Dirtbag XI

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

You gasped when Rafe tightly squeezed your wrist, pinning it down beside your head as his other hand trailed down your sweaty frame. It was only the evening, but after hitting a few balls at the country club, he came back in a mood that resulted in him reaching for you the moment he made it to his room. Any other day, and you would’ve gone played your role perfectly.

…but JJ was right downstairs.

All of Sarah’s friends were congregated in the living room, so you made yourself scarce no matter how much you actually wanted to stick around. It’d been hard to avoid JJ’s watchful eye every time you went downstairs, recalling the feel of him on top of you and his hands on you. It was something you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks—even while lying next to Rafe.

You were so conflicted…and not just because you were cheating on your boyfriend.

The whole situation with JJ felt…off. You hadn’t really wanted to go that far, and when JJ kept pushing, you were still unsure if you regretted giving in or not. Was he right when he said you were just scared because Rafe had mentally fucked you up so bad? Had you really just been afraid of the unknown? After all, up until that night, Rafe was the only guy you’d done practically anything with. Those things were very true…and yet you wondered if you should’ve forced yourself to go along with things you weren’t ready for like you had.

…because the truth was that you did enjoy lying underneath someone you felt safe with. When sleeping with Rafe and letting him touch you and returning the favor…you had never not been afraid. Your first time had been a drunk and bloody and violent mess. You didn’t know what it was like to be with someone you trusted and felt wholly comfortable with.

It was an entirely different experience.

Your conflicting feelings were too much, and it was something you wanted to talk to JJ about, but you could just never find the time. Rafe had been especially clingy as of late, and on the off chance he wasn’t, the rest of JJ’s friends happened to be around to where you couldn’t get him alone without arousing suspicion.

Like today.

Unable to get JJ alone, you were forced to basically do nothing but wait for Rafe.

Your boyfriend had been insatiable for almost an hour, twisting his hand into your hair and pulling your face closer the moment he walked into the room. Lying on his bed, you hadn’t had much choice but to slide your lips along the length of his cock, the only silver lining being when he returned the favor. You’d hoped that he would be quick…

“You’re so quiet,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, hips snapping against yours. “What’s wrong?”

When your boyfriend pulled back to look at you, you only shook your head.

“Nothing…”

There was a slight furrow between his brows, and you didn’t like the look that passed over his features.

“You know I like hearing you,” he said, pulling his lip between his teeth. “…and it’s not like we’re at Topper or Kelce’s.”

You swallowed, and his hand tightened on your wrist.

“Is this about Sarah’s dumbass friends downstairs?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“No…I…” you licked your lips. “Not really.”

Rafe had stopped moving, holding himself inside of you as he looked over your face.

“Not really…?” he repeated, eyebrow raised.

Glancing around the ceiling, you sighed.

“I’d just feel embarrassed…”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You would feel embarrassed about Sarah’s friends hearing you, but you especially didn’t want to think about JJ hearing you. Obvious reasons aside, JJ was the only one to know about what your relationship with Rafe was actually like. You didn’t want to imagine what he’d think.

Rafe scoffed.

“Who gives a fuck about them? This is my house,” he said, tone cocky as he leaned in to kiss you. “Besides…”

He slowly pulled his hips back before thrusting back into you just as slow.

“Let them hear what I do to you.”

His tone was sinister, a mocking lilt to his voice as he started to snap his hips against yours again. When you bit your lip, his movements grew rough, and you sharply inhaled. His hair brushed your forehead as he leaned in, and you couldn’t avoid his eye.

“I’ll fuck you all night if I have to.”

The warning was clear, and when he pushed his cock into you again, you didn’t swallow down your moan this time. As embarrassing as it was, the shame eventually left you when Rafe started pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. At some point, you found yourself on your knees, fingers clutching the sheets and the pillows as he thrust into you from behind.

His hands were tight on your hips, and a mewl climbed out of your throat with every push of his hips.

When he leaned over you—chest pressing against your back—his hand snaked its way around your throat. His grip was tight, making you gasp and making your eyes roll. You reached up to cover his hand with your own, flinching when his teeth grazed your ear.

“You like that?” he wondered, and at your nod, he leaned down to nip at the skin of your neck. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You,” you gasped.

He hummed, a question in his tone, and he only seemed satisfied when you moaned his name. Pushing you down, he had you pinned, hips slapping against you as he repeated the question. Understanding what he wanted, you moaned his name again. And again. And again. Rafe only seemed satisfied when you were practically screaming his name, hand tight on your throat while the other dug into your hip and thigh.

When you came, you were shouting his name, and you heard him groan yours into your ear when he came too. You shuddered at the feel of him filling you up, shuddering at the stickiness between your thighs and the cum dripping around his cock and onto your folds. Laying you completely down, Rafe kissed down your back as he pulled out of you, telling you he was going to take a shower.

You wanted one too more than anything, but Rafe had a habit of commencing round two whenever you joined him under the water.

Instead, you took the time to roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as you pulled the sheet over your chest. As great as the sex was with Rafe—when it was consensual—you couldn’t help but to compare it to your time alone with JJ. Thinking back, you’d always thought your former friends were lying when they talked about other things being better than sex depending on the guy.

…but JJ’s fingers and his lips had sparked more excitement than anything Rafe did.

You knew why, and it made you sigh. Resigning yourself to everything with Rafe had been so much easier when you didn’t know what you were missing. You did now, though, and you weren’t sure how you were going to continue to pretend with no problem. Dealing with Rafe’s abuse didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world when you didn’t know how much better ‘better’ could be.

The fact that the ‘better’ was right downstairs had your heart skipping a beat, and as much as you wanted to go downstairs again just to see his face, you weren’t quite ready to face him after he’d so clearly heard Rafe fucking you.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

You wiped your face, crossing your arms over your chest as JJ pleadingly gazed at you. The pool house was quiet save for your occasional sniffle, and you were still when the blond reached for you—not quite rejecting him, but not quite accepting his advances either. There was still some dried blood under his nose, and the skin under his eye was already beginning to bruise.

All of it was evidence of his actions not even an hour ago.

Against your better judgement, you went along with Rafe to a small party on the beach. You’d texted JJ to see in advance if he was going to be there, seeing as the answer to that would determine your own actions, but you’d gotten no response. Hence, your own slight shock at seeing none other than a familiar blond talking to Kie.

You’d looked away the moment his eyes met yours.

Rafe—and you by extension—had kept his distance, but you hadn’t exactly anticipated JJ to be the one to start trouble tonight. Rafe had been talking to some friends that weren’t Kelce or Topper, his hand tight on your waist as he held you close. Per usual, you’d been quiet, just sipping on a beer you didn’t even like as your gaze roamed over the beach.

Your boyfriend had been shoved out of nowhere.

Before either of you had time to react, JJ was on him, throwing punches and taking you by surprise. No amount of yelling could get him to get off, and even when Rafe eventually got his bearings and started fighting back, blood was already smeared under his nose and on his lips. While Rafe’s friends tried to join in and make it unfair, John B. and Pope only tried to break it up.

You didn’t understand what happened, only able to look on in horror as your boyfriends fought.

When JJ slammed Rafe’s head into the sand, your heart jumped. There was a look on the younger blonde’s face like he could kill, and for a moment, you thought that he could. You hadn’t forgotten what he’d said to you in Rafe’s kitchen that day, and you didn’t want to acknowledge the way a brief bout of relief filled you at the thought of him actually killing Rafe. The feeling scared you, so much so that it made your stomach turn, and all relief was gone the moment you imagined JJ in jail.

You only wanted Pope and John B. to get him off of him.

When they did, they struggled to hold him back, and Rafe’s friends fared no better, your boyfriend determined to get his hands on JJ. You’d only been able to look between them, eyes lingering on JJ as he was pulled away. You hadn’t missed his brief glance towards you and the venom you saw there. You were only pulled from the trance by the feel of Sarah grabbing your arm.

“Are you okay? You didn’t get caught up in that, did you?”

You’d shaken your head, and she’d angrily tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Kie will drive you home,” she’d said. “I’m sure Rafe won’t take much convincing.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Your boyfriend was huffing and darting his eyes every which way when Sarah proposed she make sure you get straight home. Even if your boyfriend hadn’t said it, you knew what he was thinking. He still had a fight in his eyes, and you knew that whenever he made it to The Cut, if he didn’t find JJ, he would settle for either of his friends.

That was exactly what you told the blond the moment you walked through the pool house, positive as to where he’d found refuge.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I don’t know why…”

JJ trailed off, running his hands through his already messy hair.

“No…”

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“I know exactly why I did that.”

He moved closer to you, jaw clenched as he gazed at you.

“I hate that everyone thinks he’s such a great boyfriend,” he sneered. “I hate that he can just walk into a party with you on his arm like he doesn’t treat you like absolute shit!”

Your face fell, and your gaze found the floor.

“God, seeing you standing there…? Like his little accessory or something? Just hanging on his arm without even being acknowledged like you aren’t even a person?” he wondered. “It made me angrier than expected.”

You sighed at that, some of your own irritation dissipating.

“JJ,” you exhaled, sadly looking at him. “You can’t let that bother you.”

“…but it does!”

His voice bounced off of the walls.

“It’s not fucking fair,” his voice was quieter, now, hand coming up to rest on your arm. “It’s not fair that he gets to treat you like that…and have you too.”

You could see it then—there in his gaze—that this wasn’t just sparked by tonight.

Closing your eyes, you sighed again.

“I can’t exactly…refuse to have sex with him JJ,” you softly whispered, slowly meeting his gaze.

You could see that it bothered him, disgust and anger flitting over his features.

“The rest of them were making jokes and pretending to gag,” he gradually replied. “…but all I could think about was him giving you a black eye…and then having sex with you weeks later.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“So you fought him?”

“What else can I do?” he seriously wondered, giving you a look. “…until I can figure out how to get you away from him…I have to settle for kicking his ass.”

You couldn’t even focus on everything JJ said, lips parting as you blinked at him.

“Get me away from him? JJ,” you lightly scoffed. “I…”

Of course, you wanted that, but Rafe was…Rafe. Rafe Cameron, son of Ward Cameron and equally as rich as you. You didn’t want to imagine the things he could get away with considering what he’d already gotten away with. You recalled Ward’s convincing tone that day you’d called the cops on your boyfriend, telling you everything that you already knew. You especially remembered Rafe’s hands on your throat one night, threatening to kill you if you ever left him.

You’d long accepted your fate of walking on eggshells around Rafe forever.

“Are you telling me you don’t want to get away from him?” the blond wondered, fingers grazing the skin of your cheek.

“I do,” you told him, shaking your head. “You know that I do, but… I have no way of…”

Your words trailed off as JJ shushed you, his other hand coming up to rest on the other side of your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned in, foreheads touching too. His thumbs traced circles into your cheeks as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “I’m going to get you out.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and you thought about Rafe on The Cut looking for JJ, none the wiser to the fact that he was with you.

“I promise you.”

Ward and Rose’s party was in full swing, and yet you found yourself on your fifth drink of the night on the back porch. Rafe was especially irritating, going on and on about JJ, and unable to take it anymore, you’d slipped away to find comfort in your solitude. Since Topper and Kelce weren’t privy to what went down the other night, Rafe had to let them in on all the sordid details, and you couldn’t stand it.

That same night JJ had kissed you for what felt like hours, eventually letting you go once you reminded him that Rafe wouldn’t be out looking for him forever. It was reluctant, but he eventually kissed you one last time. It was still on your mind when Rafe finally came back, still angry at JJ and choosing to take it out on you, kisses rough as he pulled at your clothes.

He’d only seemed satisfied when you came around him for a second time, exhausted and milking him dry.

This feud or whatever between Kooks and Pogues had always been ongoing, but your relationship with JJ only added another complicated layer to it all. While Rafe thought the other blond was just being an asshole, you knew better. You knew that JJ was angry with Rafe’s treatment of you and saw himself as defending your honor or something.

You would’ve found it flattering if it didn’t worry you so much.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a familiar hand on your elbow, and you hadn’t even heard Rafe come outside. When you looked at his face, you could see the boredom all over it, and so you weren’t shocked when he said:

“We’re heading to Top’s.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, and you didn’t have any choice but to follow along as he pulled you through his house. The two familiar guys were already in his truck when you made it outside, and you could only stare out the window when you slid in next to Topper. You tried to ignore the way Rafe’s words slurred as he got behind the wheel, sipping on your own drink.

You could faintly hear him complaining to the other two about Rose’s ‘awful party’ and needing to ‘hit a few lines’. You rolled your eyes, not enthusiastic to be with Rafe and his friends while they snorted whatever up their noses. Despite his inebriation and irritation, Rafe still helped you out of the truck once he arrived. However, you figured out why when his lips immediately covered yours.

“Maybe you can cheer me up, hmm?” he wondered against your lips before pulling you along.

You almost tripped over the end of your dress, and you watched Rafe loosen his tie as he followed the other two inside. The atmosphere was immediately different, Kelce looking for something on his phone to play while Topper headed to the kitchen for more drinks. If you were going to halfway stomach the three of them at once, you’d need another.

While you went to the bathroom, you resisted the urge to text JJ.

Rafe was drunk—and was about to snort a line or two of coke—so his behavior was going to be extra unpredictable. The last thing you needed was for the blond to inquire about why you were on your phone so much and snatch it from you. You really didn’t want to imagine how that would go, shuddering at the thought, and you pressed your hands to your forehead.

Gazing into the mirror, you thought to yourself that you would’ve never thought this was your life a year ago—hell six months ago.

There was a time where you barely even knew JJ Maybank’s name, and now…now he was…what? Your second boyfriend? Your lover? Your guy on the side? Never mind the fact that you’d been too terrified of Rafe to even entertain the thought, but… There was a time where the thought of cheating on Rafe would’ve made you sick.

You felt your eyes burn, and you pressed your hand to your mouth.

You and Rafe were so far from how you’d started out, and while the abuse had certainly made you realize that, your recent actions only drove it home. You’d been sneaking around with someone that wasn’t your boyfriend. You’d been spending the night with him and kissing him and letting him touch you. The reality of just how far your relationship had fallen made you want to cry…

…and now JJ was talking about getting you out.

The thought was terrifying because…how? How was JJ—with his limited resources—going to do what you couldn’t? The thought of not being with Rafe anymore felt so relieving…but equally as scary. Rafe was all you’d ever known, although, you supposed that was no longer the case, and you reminded yourself that JJ told you not to worry about it.

It was easier said than done.

When you made it back downstairs, music reached your ears, and the sight of Rafe snorting a line off of the coffee table met your eyes. Ignoring him, you made your way to the kitchen, quickly finding yourself a drink. The night was going as it usually did, and for once you were happy to be ignored until Rafe remembered your presence.

You had too much on your mind.

You were on your third drink since coming to Topper’s when you finally found a seat on the couch. You tried to ignore how you stumbled, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as Rafe’s words reached your ears.

“…and the piece of shit just pushes me,” he scoffed. “For no reason.”

“What else can you expect from Pogues, man,” Kelce chimed in, shaking his head.

“The next time I see JJ, I swear to God, I’m going to make him swallow his fucking teeth.”

At that you did huff…and Rafe noticed.

The room grew quiet, but you figured that all the alcohol in your system made it hard to notice.

“Problem…?”

When you glanced up, Rafe’s familiar blue eyes were on you. Kelce and Topper were conveniently looking anywhere else, and you gave a humorless chuckle at their cowardice. You didn’t miss how blown your boyfriend’s pupils were.

“I just think it’s stupid…all of this fighting and back and forth,” you took another sip. “You find him and beat him up? Then what?”

You shrugged.

“He starts another fight the next time he sees you, and so on?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you agreed. “It’s stupid.”

At that, Rafe’s face twitched, and you watched him sit his drink down.

“You almost sound like you’re defending him…”

You were way more drunk than you’d intended, but his tone and the glint in his eye warned you off—your inebriation not making you lose your common sense.

“I’m not defending anyone,” you said after a tense pause. “It just seems unnecessarily violent.”

You thought about how angry JJ had been the other night, the look in his eyes, and you shuddered. You really didn’t want to see JJ and Rafe fight again—ever again if you had any say. Rafe only scoffed at your words before standing and making his way over to you. When he reached for your drink, you held it out of reach, and it was his turn to huff this time.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” was all he murmured when he leaned in.

“…because I think it’s stupid to not just let this go?” you wondered with a frown. “God forbid you decide to act your age.”

His hand was circling your chin before you realized it, and you heard Topper lightly murmur his name. Your boyfriend stared you down, both of you just holding each other’s gazes as his fingers pressed into your skin. The room felt too quiet and too tense, and you searched his eyes, almost daring him to do something in front of his friends.

Listening to Top, Rafe let you go.

“Maybe I should take you home,” he sneered. “You’re ruining the mood, and nobody wants to hear your Kumbaya bullshit.”

His hand was on your arm, yanking you up, and he paid little attention to how you swayed. Rafe only cared about pulling you along, telling his friends he’d be back. You stumbled a few times in your heels, almost tripping over your dress, but Rafe just continued to force you outside. He practically shoved you into his truck, uncaring if you even pulled your dress inside of the vehicle all the way.

The moment he was next to you, you were unsurprised by the feel of his hand digging into your arm.

“What the hell is your problem? Huh?”

“I don’t have a-.”

“Bullshit!” he spat, shoving you away and starting the truck. “You’re practically defending JJ—telling me to let this go when he’s the one who snaked me.”

You knew that he wasn’t entirely wrong to want retaliation against what he believed to be an unprovoked act of violence, but you just couldn’t get that image out of your head. That glint in JJ’s eyes. If Rafe and JJ fought again, you were worried that someone was seriously going to get hurt, and if it was Rafe, there was no doubt in your mind he’d make JJ’s life hell.

Despite the alcohol and coke in his system, Rafe managed to safely pull into your driveway.

“You should probably drink some water when you get inside,” he mockingly said. “Sloppy drunk isn’t sexy.”

“Fuck you,” you sighed.

The slap was loud in the truck, and your cheek burned beneath your hand when you touched it. You didn’t know if the alcohol made the pain less or worse, and you blinked away tears. Some still escaped though, and you pulled your lip between your teeth as you sniffed.

“Hopefully you’ll have pulled yourself together by the morning,” Rafe murmured, unlocking the truck. “You know I hate when you get like this.”

Stumbling out of the vehicle, you made sure to slam the door behind you.

Rafe didn’t even wait around to watch you go inside, backing out of the driveway just as more tears fell. Your face stung more when the air hit it, and you sniffed, searching in your purse for your keys. Your parents were still at the Camerons’, and considering it was actually still pretty early in the night, you figured they would be for a few more hours. When you dropped the clutch, you cursed, and you were just about to bend down to get it when another hand beat you to it.

“Jesus!”

You might’ve fallen if he hadn’t reached out to grab you.

“No, JJ,” he teased, but his face fell as he really looked at you.

His hand tightened when you swayed, keeping you from falling, and his other hand reached out to hold you too.

“Hey…hey, are you okay?”

You touched your forehead.

“I’m fine,” you sighed. “Just the average night with Rafe Cameron.”

You wiped your face again, and JJ pulled you against him.

“Did he hurt you?”

The question made you laugh, and you reached for your purse again with a shrug.

“I don’t even know if a slap counts anymore,” you choked out with a bitter smile. “Ending the evening with only a slap is considered a good day.”

You could feel yourself crying again—you blamed the alcohol—and you didn’t protest when JJ took your keys. Rafe was long gone, so you let JJ guide you inside, a hand on your waist as he closed the door behind him. When you stumbled in your heels, it was a reminder that you were wearing them, and JJ bent down to help you take them off. You swayed when you put your foot down, and JJ steadied you as he rose.

“Let’s get you upstairs…”

You let him lean you on him, moving towards the staircase.

“It takes almost nothing to get him mad,” you murmured after a few moments, recalling his ire. “I don’t even know what I was thinking drinking so much tonight.”

You always had to be on high alert with Rafe—always had to be hyperaware and hyper focused on every single expression and word and change in body language. There was no relaxing around Rafe ever, and the thought made more tears fall. When you made it to your room, you immediately sat on the floor, dropping your face into your hands.

JJ softly called your name.

“You know that he grabbed me tonight…and Topper and Kelce barely did anything?”

You looked up at the blond as he sadly looked down at you, jaw clenching at that.

“…and I’d like to think that they would do something if he did much worse,” you slowly said. “…but the truth is…”

You shrugged at him.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “They never speak out against him, so I don’t know why I’d ever expect that where I’m concerned.”

JJ moved to sit down next to you.

“Especially since they barely even acknowledge me on a regular basis.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry,” you tearfully told him, shaking your head when he protested. “I don’t…”

“Don’t apologize for talking to me about this—any of this,” JJ firmly told you, taking your hands. “I wanna hate him for leaving you alone this drunk, but…”

JJ pressed his lips to your cheek.

“He’s probably the last person you should be with,” he whispered, pulling away slightly.

His blue eyes searched yours, and you blinked at him. You could see so many emotions pass over his features, anger being the most prominent, and JJ’s gaze hardened.

“I should kick his ass again-.”

“JJ,” you admonished.

“I should,” he said with a smile, kissing you. “I should do to him exactly what he does to you.”

Your drunk brain knew that JJ was in your bedroom and kissing you, but you couldn’t quite make sense of it. Your face still stung, and your chest still felt heavy, but all you could really focus on was the kiss. JJ kissed you like he missed you, and you supposed that you missed him too. When one of his hands rested on the back of your neck—the other on the zipper of your dress—you touched his chest.

“JJ…”

He gently shushed you, leaning in towards you more.

“It’ll be okay…”

“I don’t… I don’t think this is smart,” you told him, pulling away. “Rafe could easily decide to come back, and I…”

You bit your lip, eyeing him.

“I don’t want this going too far.”

JJ brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it a bit.

“Trust me,” was all he said, kissing you again.

You did, but you knew that this wasn’t something you were prepared to handle yet. You wouldn’t be able to take anything back, and you weren’t mentally nor emotionally ready to walk around looking Rafe in the eye and pretending like you hadn’t had sex with someone else. You were already cheating on him, this was true, but sleeping with JJ just felt like the point of no return…and not just because of Rafe.

Rafe was unfortunately the only man you’d ever been with, and you weren’t able to get past that mental barrier.

“JJ,” you protested, words slurred. “Wait…”

Your back was pressed to the floor, JJ’s frame pinning yours down as he kissed you. Your movements were sluggish and weak, the alcohol in your system hindering them. It was hard to tell if you were actively trying to push him away and was just failing, or if you simply weren’t trying, at all because you didn’t want to.

Everything was so confusing.

The sound of the zipper on your dress was loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you shuddered when the air hit you. When JJ kissed you again, your thoughts halted momentarily, and you blinked up at the ceiling when his lips trailed down to your throat. The room was tilting, and you squeezed your eyes shut. The feeling of his lips on your chest and then your stomach made you shudder, and you pressed your hands to your forehead when you felt him yanking your underwear down.

Your next protest was forgotten when he tasted you.

Your chest arched, and you gasped, wide eyes on the ceiling. JJ’s tongue slid between your folds and across your clit while his hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place. His mouth on you was making your head spin, and too many thoughts were racing around in your head. You wanted to push him away…but you also wanted to pull him closer. You wanted to moan, but some part of you also wanted to swallow down every sound that threatened to come up.

Alcohol completely settled in your system, your vision went in and out, and the next time you blinked, JJ’s lips were touching yours. You could taste yourself on them, and you drunkenly hummed. The blond was saying something to you, but you could only halfway focus, slowly blinking at him.

“You’re okay,” he softly repeated.

You realized why when all of your senses came back into focus, and you felt yourself pushing against his chest. It was weak, anyway, positive that JJ could bat your hand away if he wanted to. Instead, he only kissed you again, deeply inhaling and reaching between you. When you felt the tip of him grazing your thigh, a shiver crawled up your spine.

You turned your head when he pressed open mouthed kisses along the expanse of your throat, shifting as he completely got rid of his pants, now. One hand kept himself hovering over you while the other reached behind his head to pull at his shirt. You shuddered again when his bare chest met yours. It was only just hitting you that you were about to have sex with someone that wasn’t Rafe…

…and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

JJ was slow when he entered you. He took his time in pushing his cock into you inch by inch, and you didn’t know if he was giving you time to adjust or simply savoring the moment. Maybe both. You heard him sigh—you did too—and your nails pressed into his arm. When his hips firmly rested against yours, he held himself there, pausing and just basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

You were also getting used to the feeling.

While he seemed to be just as long as Rafe, you weren’t prepared for the stretch, and you involuntarily moved your hips. The action made JJ hiss, and he pressed his forehead to yours. His breathing—like yours—was uneven, and he only started to move once he calmed himself down a bit. Pulling his hips back until only the tip of him remained, JJ swiftly thrust into you.

You softly yelped, hanging onto him, and JJ adopted a slow and steady pace. Your dress and the carpet beneath you were soft against your back, and JJ hummed as he sank into you. Your entire body felt abuzz with energy, and it fought with the alcohol in your system. Every push of his hips had you gasping, and when JJ lifted his head, his blue gaze held yours.

You were still really confused—the room tilting around you—but you trusted JJ way more than you ever trusted Rafe. Despite the fact that this was not what you wanted for your evening, your body slowly relaxed underneath his with every thrust. Despite everything, you weren’t scared, and those feelings heavily conflicted with your uncertainty surrounding this.

You hadn’t wanted this…but now all you could think about was JJ’s smooth thrusts and his efforts to push you both over the edge. You hadn’t wanted this, but you forgot why when JJ trailed his lips over your throat, sighing when you threw your head back. Your lips parted, a choked moan escaping as he curved his hips against yours.

JJ was being so gentle with you, and it was what stood out to you the most.

Then again, maybe everything felt good because you were drunk. You felt so light, like you were floating, and your lashes fluttered. JJ’s hand curved against your waist, holding you as he continued to fuck you, while the other ran up and down your side. He was saying something to you, and it took you a moment to focus.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you again. “Do you feel okay?”

When you gave him a nod, he smiled against your lips.

“I told you,” he whispered, cock stretching you out and sliding along your walls. “It’ll be okay.”

You moaned his name, chest arching up into his. He cursed as he held you tighter, and you wrapped your arms around him.

When you came around him, JJ kept moving against you, fucking you and plunging his cock into you. You clung to him as you shuddered, gasping and toes curling. When you squeezed your eyes shut, you saw stars, and JJ murmured soft praises into your ear. His movements prolonged your climax, the overstimulation making you shudder, and JJ only slid his hand under you to fist the hair at the nape of your neck.

When he forced your head back, his teeth grazed your neck, head drifting towards your collarbone.

“I want you to think about me every time you’re with him.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #jj maybank fic #outer banks imagine #obx imagine

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milf-harrington · 7 months

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i read a fic yesterday (return of the king) where Steve swapped with Eddie at the last second at the end of s4 and ended up being the one who died and had to be left behind and then he came back as a vampire and it just got my brain TICKING.

So role-reversal AU where steve is the one who comes back basically kas-ified as is the common trope with eddie, but where eddie goes to steve, steve goes to robin.

lets say, for funsies, that they managed to kill vecna and max only ended up hospitalised for a broken elbow and a twisted ankle (from falling on it), so everyone has the time and space to grieve.

Steve’s death hits Robin the hardest because he was her person. He was her i-wish-we-could-just-merge-into-one-being. Her ride or die. Her soulmate. And he’d been taken from her, torn apart and left to rot in the very world he’d tried so hard to protect her from.

The others give her space to let her mourn quietly in her bedroom, dressed in steve’s clothes and listening to his music like if she just tried hard enough she could still merge them together and let him use her lungs to breathe, her heart to pump his blood, her head to share his thoughts. that she could single handedly go from a me to a we.

And then, one day, Robin starts acting weird. She doesn’t know the Wheeler’s phone number and on her way to find it in the phone book, she found the Munson’s first, and when Eddie picks up it’s too a very chipper Robin asking for a lift to the shops where she proceeds to buy an alarming amount of red meat and refuses to answer any questions.

And she’s just- happy. She’s weird and happy and keeps calling Eddie to ask him about Dungeons and Dragons lore and if he can take her to the library or to the butcher and if he can let her borrow his jumper please? I get cold easily. And then she just keeps stealing clothes, from everyone. Sometimes she asks, sometimes she’ll just take a jacket off of the back of a chair and act like nothing happened, sometimes she just sneaks off to go rooting through washing baskets.

Then comes the day she invites Eddie over, probably a week or so after her initial journey into Weird-Ville, nervously rambling about nothing right up until she closes the front door behind them and runs into Eddie’s back because Eddie’s just spotted Steve-fucking-Harrington peering at him from around the corner.

Apparently, a not-exactly-dead-anymore Steve crawled through Robin’s window one night and has since taken up residence underneath her bed.

“He was kinda- not all there, at first.” She tells him, chopping a steak into cubes and dropping them into a blender. Steve, winged and fanged and tailed, leans against the counter and watches her with sleepy eyes. “But we’ve been working on it.”

After the initial pants-shitting shock of having her dead best friend re-appear as a creature of the upside down, Robin had simply accepted it and moved on. Happy to have Steve back no matter what it looked like.

And what it looked like was blending raw meat, and reading together in the bathroom to bring back his ability to talk, and stealing clothes for the veritable nest Steve was building in her closet. The next step in her plan to re-domesticate her best friend, had been to introduce him to another person: Eddie, evidently.

Steve promptly spends 5 minutes being a feral little creature, scenting Eddie within an inch of his life like he’d done to Robin, and then attempting to plant him in his nest like a little ornament.

Just. idk. feral kas!steve seeking out robin for safety, who slowly re-introduces him to his humanity and then his future boyfriend.

#stobin #platonic soulmates #also a bit of #steddie #as a treat (for me)#monster steve harrington #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #this has been plaguing me all day #fic ideas

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lovelybrooke · 1 month

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Things the Twst Boys Find Interesting From Your World.

Inspired by this post, here are things I think the twst boys would find fascinating from your world.

masterlist

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Ace:

He's kinda basic and is interested in your holidays. I don't think he's able to wrap his head around religious holidays, which makes sense because most religions sound strange when you explain it to someone that knows nothing about what you're talking about. I think he really likes the idea of Christmas, he wants free gifts.

Deuce:

This is kinda hard to explain, but I think Deuce is interested in all the different types of subjects your world teaches. Because when you think about it, so much of this world revolves around magic. Even though there are people who don't use it, most people have a basic grasp of it. So I think he'd really want to know how schools function without magic.

Cater:

Social media and influencers, one hundred percent. Like he'd be so fascinated by the idea of YouTube and Instagram and TikTok, but he's also really into the drama of it all. Explain influencer beef, no matter how niche it is or how well he'd be able to understand it, he's hooked for days. Imagine him finding out that you had a sizable following on one of those apps, oh lord.

Trey:

This applies to lots of characters, but food. He's really interested in all the different types of pastries, especially ones that are your favorite. He probably tries to make them to the best of his abilities purely based on your descriptions.

Riddle:

He's really interested in your world's history. He thinks it fascinating how diverse your history is, and will constantly ask you questions regarding your culture and history. He never gets bored of it either because there is just so much to tell. Like no matter how basic you think your history is, it's so cool to Riddle.

Jack:

I'm gonna say something that might be controversial, but Jack gives off the vibes of someone who says he doesn't like reality T.V. but actually really does. I don't care, he'll eat up all the reality T.V. from your world and somehow be able to keep track of all the drama.

Ruggie:

Ruggie is fascinated by slang that you use, as strange as that sounds. A lot of it overlaps, but there is eventually some phrase or word you say that they just don't get and it cracks him up. I think he'd try to emulate some of your phrases, to varying success.

Leona:

I feel like Leona is just fascinated with humans in general. Like, he's met humans before, but the idea of an entire world with only humans surprises him, and he isn't able to comprehend how your society was able to function. He just can't wrap his head around it, no matter how much you explain your world to him.

Floyd:

Surprisingly, fashion. I read on his wiki that he got really interested in fashion after coming on land. I think he'd really want to know about how people in your world dress, even if it is similar to how people In Twisted Wonderland dress. I think he's really fascinated about how different cultures dress, and how clothing has changed over time.

Jade:

Plants, all types of plants. Like they are definitely more boring than the ones in Twisted Wonderland, but he doesn't care. He's such a nerd for plants, especially mushrooms. There was this video I watched a while ago of a woman talking about all the different ways to cook different types of mushrooms, and I think if he watched that video he'd fall in love.

Azul:

Kinda specific but card games. It's canon that he likes strategy games, so I think he'd really be interested in all the different types of games, but would probably prefer physical card games rather than online ones. I think he'd secretly really like how cute Pokemon are.

Jamil:

He's also interested in your food. Unlike Trey, he's more interested in the complex dishes of your world rather than just pastries. I think he'd genuinely want to try to make every dish he could with you and try them all, especially ones that pertain to your culture.

Kalim:

He's really interested in your music, it's so diverse. He'd definitely be the type of person to say he's interested in all types of music and mean it because he genuinely is. Like show him Chappell Roan and then Laufey, and then Baby Metel, it doesn't matter, he loves it all.

Epel:

I know this is kinda basic but sports, he loves sports. I think he finds the concept of the Olympics so cool, especially on the more obscure sports like skateboarding. He definitely would get really into whatever sport you played or are into.

Rook:

I think Rook would be fascinated by the beauty standards of your world. I think he'd imagine it to be less critical of people, because of the abscess of Beastmen and Fae, but is surprised to learn that it's actually the opposite. This makes him want to learn about all the different types of things people consider "beautiful" in your world.

Vil:

I mentioned this in a separate post, but he is super interested in all the different types of movies from your world. So many people tend to forget that he literally made a club about movies, and just boil him down to "pretty boy obsessed with looks." He'd watch all those commentary videos on movies and if it were possible, watch all your favorites. He'd also really be into the movie stars, especially since he has no concept of how famous they are.

Ortho:

All different types of tech. Obviously, Twisted Wonderland is more advanced, but it's still interesting to learn how your world is able to function without magic. I think since a lot of tech is similar, he'd be really drawn to the gaming consoles of your world and all the silly tech.

Idia:

This is kinda basic, but video games. He really likes all the different games from your world, and would love to play them if he could. We know he likes gotcha games, so I could imagine him wanting to play games like Genshin or Star Rail, but I could also see him really enjoying puzzle or strategy games.

Sebek

I read on his wiki that he enjoys reading, so I could imagine him being really interested in all the literature from your world. He's kinda surprised that humans were able to write so much on their own, and while he doesn't want to admit it, he wants to read all your favorite books from your world.

Silver

I also think Silver is really into history, and finds the history of your world really interesting. I think he finds the progression of your weapons really fascinating. He also finds the technological advancements so cool.

Lilia:

Some might say this doesn't count, but Lilia is interested in literally everything. Like he can't pick one thing to be interested in, because your world is so complex that it would be a disservice to pick just one thing. He does, however, find your war history interesting. Just don't explain the concept of "mutually assured destruction" to him, it might make him too sad.

Malleus:

I think he'd love to learn about art from your world, specifically architecture. Like we know he likes gargoyles and all, but I could see him really enjoying classic architecture and how it changes from place to place. It would totally inspire his own works as well.

---

A/n: Tell me your ideas because some of these were really hard.

#soft yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #vil twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst

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tripleyeeet · 10 months

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BLEED YOU DRY (1)

SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 3,273

WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?

Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!

The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.

Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.

Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response.

“Shit.”

You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.”

You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.

“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest.

“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.

He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face.

“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response.

His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.

“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“

“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes.

“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context.

“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.”

You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles.

Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in.

It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.

Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over.

You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone.

Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you.

You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief.

“You alright?”

His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food.

Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase.

They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are.

“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink.

They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.

“If you need to drink, you can.”

His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?”

There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.”

Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.”

“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”

“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”

He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”

He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line.

Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack.

You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open.

“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.”

Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies.

“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.”

You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.”

He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”

There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now.

“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly.

“You fear me, don’t you?”

Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills.

“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.”

He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear.

He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.

“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”

Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire.

Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you.

When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.

“It won’t last.”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”

“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”

Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in.

It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross.

At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold.

Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open.

He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull.

As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.

The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood.

“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare.

“You almost killed me.”

“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.”

If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?”

You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close.

Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.

You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code.

At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over.

But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.

“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought.

You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #summer writes

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issa-pheonyx · 5 months

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Yandere-sub!Stalker X GN!Reader🔪🌶️

𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱. 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀. 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗢𝗖 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗼: @lovisyandereblog

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

I have been stuck with this...puppy yapping, lovesick, twisted, perverted, and annoying man thing. I lost track of my days being stuck in this hellhole. As much as I hate to admit some part of me takes a liking of him until I am reminded that I can never go outside nor a blink of an eye of how the outside world looks like now. Furthermore, I have been finding ways I can be able to crack him to get me to at least smell the air of the world. Still nothing. I am so stuck and helpless...

I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling feeling numb and drained how day by day remains the same. I wake up, he walks in greeting so cheerfully, we eat, he talks to me as if he never gets tired of doing that, throws a fucking fit when I don't pay attention to him thinking I hate him, we have a fight, he cries like a cowering dog, I apologize and he immediately forgives me acting lovey-dovey like nothing happened, and go back to sleep to the next day. Basically, I am losing my fucking mind!!! I can't stand it, but I also...do?

It is not hard to explain, yet I feel shameful to explain it, because it is like an addiction. I want to leave, but at the same time I do not want to. This desire I have blossomed for him is something I never had in my life that I don't want it to stop. I already knew it is going to happen again. It can be at a random timing. Hell maybe it will start again when we have an argument. "Oh my love! Are you awake?" Dammit, he is home. He opens the door and I immediately turn to my side and close my eyes to pretend to be asleep

I gulped and try to stay calm hoping he would just go away. I only heard two footsteps behind me then the door closing. I sigh in relief thinking he left as I turn to my other side only to be greeted by Noah smiling, creepily, crouched down by the bed. Our faces inches away from each other,"Are you trying to make yourself go back to sleep again?~" I gasp shoving myself away bonking my head against the wall. I hiss and rubbed the back of my head,"Oh god! Are you okay!?" He forcefully grabs me and holds me into a tight embrace. He peppers kisses on my head where I accidentally hit myself, however I push him back,"Knock it off! I'm fine, Noah."

He gives me the sad puppy eyes,"B-But, you got hurt. I just wanted the pain to go away..." I rolled my eyes at him and got off the bed,"Noah, I am not dying. Now what do you want?" I crossed my arms as he smiles brightly (more like obsessively) and comes up to me,"Weeell, we gotta eat breakfast, of course. And then we can-" I cover his mouth,"Yeah yeah yeah. Talk and talk and talk. Same thing everyday. Not surprised..." Just great.

He also has to feed me (not by my choice) every time, but thankfully he respects my halts when I am full. After that he dragged took me back to the bedroom again as I sat down and he happily sat down next to me. He clings onto my arm, nuzzling against my shoulders, humming in glee, and I just let it go. "So, what do you want to do now?" Noah asks as I knew my answer would not be fulfilled. "There is no point of me telling you, Noah." He lets out a whine,"No! Besides going outside!! I told you it's too dangerous even if I were to be outside with you. You can just tell me what you crave or whatever activities that I can be able to bring here I will do it."

I face palm and shake my head,"Forget it, Noah. That is the only thing I want to do. So stop asking me stupid questions." He looks at me as I glance at him,"I am not! I just want to make you happy!!" Here we go. A new fight is happening. "Happy!? HAPPY!? Is this? ALL of this is suppose to make me happy!?" I stand up and he did too,"Yes, it should be, (Y/N)!! I did everything in my power to keep you safe, protected, and happy." I gave a chuckle out of disbelief. "Noah...I fucking hate you."

...oh shit

"What did you say?" Noah asks, heartbroken. I felt a twinge of nervousness and regret. Not regret for saying that, but letting my emotions to get the best of me. "...get out, Noah." "No, what did you say-" "I SAID GET OUT!!! GET OUT, NOAH!!" Surprisingly, he did and I quickly shut the door. There is no point in locking it since the lock is on the other side, but still grateful I got some privacy this time. I don't have to be stuck with him talking my ears off. I drag my back down on the door and sat on the floor. On the other side from a distance I can hear Noah crying. Sobbing himself out. I felt bad, but I got so tired of his shit I had to say it

Some hours have passed. I think I might have knocked out against the door. I stand up groaning feeling discomfort from my neck from how my position was formed from napping. I wanted to open the door, but thought he might have locked it. But, I gave it a shot. It opened. 'Is this my chance?' I thought as I open the door wide and hear some sniffling from the kitchen. I tip toe down the hallway and hear Noah still crying. I peek over and see him eating some vanilla ice cream. What sucks is that the door was right down the hall. If I try to run to it he will catch me. 'There is no use of escaping...' A sick reminder, but what can I do?

I rub my eyes and adjust my clothes from the wrinkles. I walk into the kitchen and gave a good distance from him. I don't want to comfort him (willingly) and make him uncomfortable after making him cry. "Hey uh...Noah." He looks up at me with his red, puffy, and wet from crying. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying it was just not a good time for me so-" He reaches my hand and pulls me closer to him. He hugs around my hips as he was sitting down on the chair and I was standing still. Stiff as a board from his sudden demand of affection

I just put my hand on his hand and the other rubbing his head. He was whispering something like: "...miss you." "so, hic, warm." "I love you...". But, could be wrong since he was sniffling and hiccuping from crying. Noah looks up at me,"You don't hate me right? Not anymore, not ever, right??" He asked desperately. I sigh and replied,"No...I don't." He nuzzles his cheek against my stomach and I pat his head. It seems like he has forgiven me from that response of affection. "You've been eating ice cream?" He hums in response and he looks up at me again,"Want some?" He asked with a little bit of hearty-shaky tone

"Oh no. It's alright unless..." He lets go of me as I hold his jaw in place. His expression went from sad and broken to curiosity and excitement. I swear there could be a glint of hearts in his eyes. I felt his throat gulp from how my hand lowered down to his throat, pressing firmly on the sides. "(Y/N)~" I notice a bit of ice cream stains on the corners of his mouth,"Don't. Move. Understand?" He nods immediately as his breathing was starting to hitch. The same hand wrapped around his throat went up to his mouth as I use my fingers on his lips,"Open your mouth, Noah."

He obeys and does so. I lean closer to his face with my tongue out. Noah grabs my wrist that was firmly opening the corners of his lips,"W-Wai I go'-MMGH!!~" I push my tongue inside his mouth making him moan and whimper, loudly. I can still taste some vanilla as I continue to taste his tongue. The sounds of wetness and slimy texture with a mix of his slutty moans filled the kitchen. Noah tried to move his face around to stop, but I grabbed his jaw to hold him in place. "Mmmgh!!~" He tried to talk, but distinctly couldn't as I was devouring his mouth. His hand that was on my wrist was defeated as he lets me have my way with him. Our tongue swirling around now. The taste of vanilla is gone as Noah continues to moan like the stupid slut he is. I pulled away as he were out of breathe. I wipe my lips from all the drool and saliva that connected from our mouths. "I prefer to taste it this way." I teased and Noah whimpers in response as he looks down.

This is what I meant when I feel shameful about half the reason why I do not want to escape...

He definitely has a boner. A tent in his pants and swear the tip of penis was sticking out a little, but his belt is in the way. He looks back at me with a needy expression. "Aww, is this little puppy hard?" He nods,"Yes...please~" I raise a brow and cross my arms,"Please what?" Noah struggles on restraining himself to touch himself as he just rubs the outer sides of his thighs to calm down. "I wanna play, please?" I pointed the floor as he gets on the floor on his knees. "Good boy." I praised making him let out a whine,"Pleeeassee. I wanna play. It hurts. Please!" I start thinking on what to do with him, but decide to give him the privileges on making the decision. "How would you like to be used, Noah?"

He bit his lip and answers,"Anything. I have two holes and a dildo for you to use~" I was a little surprised by his answer,"Dildo?" He nods and leans back referring to his boner. "Ah...that. Well, then-" He was still leaning back demonstrating his hard-on as I put my boot on it and start to firmly step on it. He yelps in pain, but starts to enjoy it as I rub on his crotch. "Look at you...being used like a damn whore. You like this shit, don't you?" Noah nods biting his sleeve,"Mmm, ah. M-More mmnh~" The tip of my boot teasingly moves in circles down under his balls and ordered him to grinding against my foot. He gladly does so out of desperation like he is trying to make himself cum quickly

He starts to pant like a dog,"Hah, ah, y-yes like that. Ah, gonna, mmnh, so c-close-" Before he has the chance to cum I stopped pulling my foot away. "N-No!! No, please I was so close!!" He cried out as his eyes start to tear up. I grab his hair and make him look up at me,"You are going to cum for me the right way, got it?" I said in a strict tone as he gasps from the action, but listened. "Take off your pants, Noah." He quickly removes them almost like he was going to rip them off. His cock now out in the open. It was leaking so much precum and the veins sticking out more. He was not lying for being close. "Alright, into position. There you go."

He began rubbing his bare cock with my boot again as he grinds against it, moaning once more. "Mmmgh, fuck. F-Feels so good~" I stopped moving my boot as he was doing the rest of the work now. His hips grind more and more intensely as his legs would flinch, but he would force himself to continue humping against my boot. I chuckle in amusement how feral he was acting. Noah looks up at me trying to speak up,"Ahh, (Y/N) gon' ma'hah c-cuum~" His eyes roll back and his head jolts finally releasing from the edging. "Ahhh, ahh!!~"

Strings of his cum lands some on his belly and my shoe as I move it away. "You did a good job, Noah. Here..." I stomp my foot and point my finger towards it. "Lick off the mess you made. You'll get your reward for cleaning up." He nods as he whimpers still feeling his cock pulsing. It was still not enough. But, a reward? He will make sure that boot is clean and not a single strand of his cum in sight. His sloppy licking was distinct from how eager he is willing to get the job done. Afterwards he sits right back up and I look down to see it was all nice and clean,"Such a good doggy~" I cooed

Noah smiles happily and gets close to my leg and wraps around it, nuzzling his head against my thigh. "I love you, (Y/N). Thank you, thank you..." He mumbles and stares up at me with such heartful-obsessed eyes.

Do I really want to turn back after moments like this? How pity~

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

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yikimiki · 6 months

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>> bones and ashes

⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me

Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.

Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.

And Sukuna is everything but weak.

He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.

This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.

The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.

Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.

There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.

When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.

Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.

Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.

“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.

Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”

You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”

He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”

“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”

Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”

“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”

This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”

“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”

The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”

Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”

“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”

“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”

His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”

“I w-would n-never…”

“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.

The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.

“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”

“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”

You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.

Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.

“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”

You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”

He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”

“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.

“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”

You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”

“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”

Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”

“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sukuna,” you complete.

“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”

Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.

He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”

- ⚔️ -

Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.

Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.

Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.

Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.

You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.

“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”

You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.

You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.

Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.

You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.

However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.

Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.

Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.

It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.

Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.

He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.

He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.

So he keeps you.

It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.

“Undress,” he commands.

You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.

“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”

He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.

“So much, Sukuna.”

It’s more honest every time.

He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”

You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”

“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”

His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.

“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”

“I know you are,” he answers.

Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.

He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.

“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”

Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.

“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.

“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”

Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”

Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“

He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”

In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.

“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”

His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”

You nod. “Y-Yes.”

“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”

You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.

“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”

“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”

Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”

You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”

He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.

There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.

“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.

“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“

“Drink it.”

Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.

It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.

Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.

“… at me.”

This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.

“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.

You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.

“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”

And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.

You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”

“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”

The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.

“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”

Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.

Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.

“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”

He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”

Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”

“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.

“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”

“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”

#sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #ryomen sukuna #smut #jjk smut

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ervotica · 4 months

Note

Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.

Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing; cassian x fem!reader

warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch

word count; 2.4k

a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!

Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.

You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.

You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.

Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.

You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.

"You knew?"

"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."

"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.

His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.

"You feel the same, then?" he teases.

Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.

"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.

"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."

He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.

Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?

"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."

"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."

A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.

"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.

"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."

Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.

"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."

You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.

"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.

"Shut up!"

His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.

"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.

He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."

Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.

"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.

The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.

Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.

You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.

"Cassian."

"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."

The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.

"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."

You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.

"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”

You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.

"Now that’s just mean, baby."

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.

"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.

He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.

"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.

"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"

Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.

Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.

You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.

"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."

"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."

You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.

"We have something else to do first."

"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.

"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"

"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.

"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."

He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."

"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."

His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.

"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.

"I thought you liked me naked!"

"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."

"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"

"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.

"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."

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mysicklove · 7 months

Text

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓'𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖!

cw: sub! denki kaminari, gn! reader, toy use: bullet vibrator, nipple clamps, fleshlight. kinda heavy bondage (he is tied to chair lol), sadistic reader!!, denki being the biggest dork at the end, unedited (for now?) and POORLY WRITTEN lolol

wc: 1.8k

a/n: well @sorrowfulrosebud this was supposed to be a drabble. oopsies. everyone dont yell at me for writing this instead of kinktober IM SORRY. ALSO denki is a little silly at the end, I hope it doesn't ruin the mood for you guys :/ he is just such a nerd to me.

“No. No. Nonononono!” The blonde squeals, squirming in his chair. His legs try to kick up, causing his thighs to pull at the restraints.

You frown at him but ignore his plea, snapping the nipple clams onto the first nipple. He jumps in his chair and he lets out a yelp, muffling the sounds of the vibrator. “Don’t “no” me, you were the one to beg for this.”

In an instant, Denki’s face shifts into a wicked grin, and you roll your eyes. “You know I like to put on a show,” he purrs, “makes it more kinky, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, yeah, you sick pervert.” You use the remote to turn up the vibrator logged inside him a setting higher, and the blonde gulps, letting about a small mewl. Then, you clamp the metal onto his other nipple, forcing another pained noise out from his mouth.

“Ow! Ow!” He screeches, twisting from left to right in his red rope bindings. “It still hurts! Y-You got to be gentle with me!”

You reach for his thigh, giving him a teasing slap. “Quit that. Gentle with you? You would throw a hissy fit if I was.”

He remains quiet at that, agreeing with you, and the action makes you grin. You grab the fleshlight and begin to pour a copious amount of lube onto it while Denki squirms in his chair, excited for what’s to come. The bullet vibrator placed meticulously on his prostate was sending his head spinning, but to add something around his cock too? He was already daydreaming about how hard he is about to orgasm.

In one quick motion, you slide the entire thing down his length. His reaction is immediate; his back arches and he let out a moan. “There ya go,” You hum, “You like that, don't you baby?”

You don’t ease into it, knowing he will complain if you do. So, instead you set a ruthless pace and Kamari already feels himself begin to drool. His eyes roll back and he begins to hump into the toy, not caring that his hips were basically strapped down into the chair. “Y-Yeah. Can you…Vibrator?”

You smile at the boy, nodding to him before reaching over and clicking the button onto the highest setting. He groans out, a lazy smile plastered on his face. “Fuck yeah. Fuck, this is heaven, ‘s got to be.”

You scoff at him, trying not to roll your eyes. He was always the dramatic type, trying to find the most creative ways to show his love for what you do to him. It was cute though, so you didn’t mind too much.

His hips continue to buck into the fleshlight, and his ass lifts slightly up the chair, going against the binds to try and reach it better. The vibrator in him makes a loud buzzing noise and every once in awhile he stops his desperate humping to try and push back into it.

The noises he let's out are loud, high in pitch, as if he was trying to tell everyone around him how good he was feeling. It makes you wonder if you want to put a gag on him, but be always gets so pouty after you do, and you didn't know if you want to deal with that. So, you let the neighbors hear his cries — it was better than the annoying sound of the vibrator, to you and Denki at least.

Eventually his hips start to thrust up too high, and the rope begins to rub against his thigh. He was going to hurt himself at this rate, and that's the last thing you guys needed. You rest your hands on his thigh, pushing him down against the chair. “Kaminari, relax, it's not going anywhere. You don't gotta chase the toy.”

He shakes his head, continuing to try and buck upward. His eyes are furrowed shut and his face is contorted in a frown. “Can't help it. Love it, s-so much!”

You yank the toy away and Denki lets out a noise akin to a puppy yelping in pain, which causes you to roll your eyes. “No. Please no! I'm sorry I'm sorry ill relax. Don't take it away, I can't cum without it! I'll be good, a good boy for you I promise!”

Your face heats up at his lewd words and you pause for a second. His cock twitches from the coolness of the air, and you watch as a glob of pre drops onto the chair. He whines, and squirms in his confinement.

Then, you gulp and sigh, rubbing your hands on his thighs that are trying their best to stay planted on the chair. “It's alright, I'm not stopping,” you murmur, sliding the fleshlight onto his cock with a satisfying squelch. He cries out, and the noise loudness of the sound startled you. Your eyes flicker to his now glassy ones. “Fuck, Kaminari, you sound straight up out of a bad porno, you know that?” You say, breathless, and fixed solely on his face.

Sweat beads at his temples, and his lip trembles. His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head back and forth. The pale legs tremble in his seat but he doesn't buck upward, instead waiting for you to cover his cock. It's agonizing to him, and he wants nothing more than to fuck it, but he remains seated, instead choosing to push himself back into the bullet vibrator.

Your hands reach up to play with the chain and Kaminari let’s out a hiss, but doesn’t oppose it. The nipples have become slightly swollen from the clamp, and it causes you to frown. “Poor thing, look how red they are.”

A meek grin pulls at his face. “Y-You like it though, yeah?”

“I do. They are so cute like this,” You nod, slightly pulling on the metal, and tearing another whimper from his mouth. Your hand continues their quick motions and his moans begin to get louder. His hips begin to buck up again.

“Kaminari,” You warn sharply and he immediately presses his ass back into the chair with a short apology. You place your hand onto his face, your own apology, but for the harshness of your tone. He nuzzles into it, rubbing his cheek into your palm. “Good boy.”

He nods his head, buzzing at the praise. Drool begins to bead at the corner of his lips, and his eyes begin to get cloudy. He finds himself chanting out curse words and melting into the chair. With every stroke of the toy, every sound of the liquid gliding across his dick, he feels himself inch toward his high. The blonde's hands clench and unclench, and he mewls. “I need to cum. P-Please?”

The vibrator continues to target his sweet spot and it sends him shivering, not knowing if he should focus on the buzzing sensation or the one wrapped around his cock. But, you pull on the chain again, answering his question for him. His back arches and he cries out from the pain of his nipples being tugged uncomfortably outward.

“Yeah? That was quick, little embarrassing, don’t you think babe?”

He pouts at you, and tears begin to tumble down his cheeks. “Shut up!”.

You ignore him, instead choosing to rest your cheek on his thigh, now kneeling in front of the chair, and blinking up at him.

“‘s nothing to be embarrassed bout. I think it’s cute that you last as long as a virgin,” You coo, eyes flickering to the flesh light that keeps hiding his dick from you.

Denki shakes his head from side to side, whining at you, and beginning to sniffle from the tears. “Y-You just don’t understand,” he warbles and you raise your eyebrows. “Don’t even know what to focus on. Gonna cum, I can’t. I-I—Please!”

You smile at him, standing up again and resting your arm on the back of his chair. It creates a shadow over his body, and it makes the boy feel strangely small compared to you. He doesn’t complain.

One hand continues to stroke him, and the other plays with the chain on his chest. You pause for a moment, creating an air of dramatics, and Denki let’s out a small whine in complaint. “Alright, you can cum. I guess I don’t mind.”

He nods his head eagerly, blinking up at you with wet eyes. Then, you watch his body go rigid and his face scrunch up. Denki curses out, and you wait a moment before you grab at the chain and rip it off of his nipples.

It sends a burning pain down his and entire back and the blondes eyes widen, shocked by your actions. He borderline screams and it sends a full shiver down your spine. “Ow! Ow! Fuck. Fuck. Ow!”

But it doesn’t ruin his orgasm, in fact, it may have made it stronger. The blonde cums into the fleshlight and you watch as it drips down his cock, staining it a milky shade of white. He moans are high in pitch, and they seem to echo off of the walls from how loud they are. But they were always like this when he orgasms, so you weren’t surprised by it.

It lasts about 20 seconds total, and eventually, he slumps against the chair. You turn off the vibrator quickly, not wanting to overstimulate him just yet and pull off the fleshlight. The remaining of his cum drips from the toy and onto the tip of Kaminari’s cock. He doesn’t even spare it a glance.

Instead, he looks toward you, tongue out and licking at the excess drool left behind on his lips and chin. He pulls at the restraints, but doesn’t really put any effort to get out; it was more of just a test of whether he could get out. When satisfied by the results, he nods to himself, before turning to you. He cocks his head to the side.

“Soooooooo,” He announces loud and proud, contrasting his earlier pathetic pleas. You sigh to yourself, already knowing something ridiculous is to come from the way he is grinning at you. When Denki sees you playing along, he dramatically clears his throat. “Who’s the next star on tonight’s game show?” The voice is loud, mimicking every classic game show host. “Will it be, contestant number one, the dildo? Contestant number two, the vibrating wand? Orrrrrr the fan favorite, all-time champion, most beloved—“

You hold up two items you grabbed from the box placed neck to you and cock your head to the side. “Ball gag and cock ring?”

Denki's eyes widen, and he smiles anxiously at you. He should have known that you were going to play along with his antics, and the results were never fun. His voice is higher in pitch, and his eyes never leave the items in your hand as if terrified by them.

“W-We will find out after this s-short break, folks.” You borderline pounce on him.

#mello.writes #dom reader #dom reader mha #sub denki #sub denki kaminari #denki kaminari smut #denki smut #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari smut #sub mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #sub mha #sub bnha

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simplyreveries · 5 months

Note

hihiii!!! if you haven’t done this already can you do housewardens and a s/o who’s based off of their movies princesses? :3

saw this request and fell in LOVE yes yes

riddle rosehearts

riddle always seems to notice how oh so curious you were- though he feels it would be inevitable when you're in a completely new world. you're always asking and inquiring him and others within the dorm and school wondering all about the great seven, nrc, twisted wonderland itself! to which riddle is quite proud of and content with sharing you about, he has an abundance of knowledge and is more than willing to share.

before your relationship when you first started to get to know him and his headstrong and strict ways — you had definitely surprised him when you stubbornly got upset with him and told him off (especially after the fact he was mean to you for being magicless…). he was taken aback as you had normally been quiet and even polite towards others.

always seems to be curious whenever you're off and seemingly zoned at— you tend to daydream a lot. whenever he tries to study with you, you usually huff and be distracted as you continue. he’ll shake his head and try to tell you that this is important, riddle will continuously make failed attempts at reminding you to do better when he gets distracted himself when he finds himself staring at you off in your own world.

he does enjoy how intelligent and observant you are. you always seem to give him good ideas when he’s troubled with something as dorm leader— and having dorm leader duties. he occasionally will come to you for advice when it comes to celebrations or unbirthday parties and such— he believes you have quite the creative mind as well.

leona kingscholar

when he had originally met you, he was instinctually nicer to you only for the fact he respects you all the more with your more headstrong but sensible self. leona will groan annoyed with you, but he would do basically anything if you asked him to—despite with how lighthearted you seem about something he just knows just how persistent and stubborn you can be. he honestly loves it that you're perfectly okay with challenging him and teasing him, he likes a bit of banter anyways from you.

he doesn't say it but loves it whenever you try to be playful and affectionate with him. he thinks it's cute how bold you are when it comes to kissing him or hugging him. he’ll have some stupid smirk on his face and tell you you’ve got some guts doing that to him all the time and every single time you have some retort for him.

you tend to push him (force him with a look) to be more active with his own dorm leader duties… not skipping classes to sleep… not putting effort into stuff he isn't interested in despite being in fact really talented. he’ll ask you if you'll only reward him with your affection if he does, it's what he thinks he deserves.

azul ashengrotto

you're always so eager and excited learning about twisted wonderland — he finds it so amusing as you're constantly pestering and asking him what things mean or what something was. what's funny though is that he’s still learning a lot still about life on land too. he is flattered that you seem just as curious about life in the ocean for him, though there are… more difficult memories he has dealt with there in his childhood, he still will share to you whatever you want to know.

azul only finds your curiosity of this whole world to be rather cute. as you're always trying to do things for keepsake, taking many pictures with your ghost camera anytime and anywhere or collect souvenirs and trinkets of places. he seemed confused as to why you had some plants in your room at ramshackle and you only laughed and said you found them interesting...! also, he would totally feel a twinge of pride and ego boost when you compliment his coin collection and seem amazed by it.

okay never mind what he tried to trick you for in chapter 3 but he clearly, he can see how gullible you can be and often seems stressed when he sees how sometimes other students try to take advantage of that. he swiftly approaches by your side and manages to have the poor student a nervous wreck around him for the reputation he holds for what he can do with those twins.

he is swooning anytime he hears you singing and humming to yourself, especially whenever you're doing shifts and working around the mostro lounge. you'll find him in his tired and more clingy moments of him asking you to simply just hum a melody he likes when he's lying next to you, he could simply listen to your voice all day.

kalim al asim

kalim loves your adventurous spirit, he will always be happy to bring you along on some carpet ride whenever you seem saddened because he knows all the sites of the desert at night can be so pretty. sometimes you two may get yourselves into little mishaps and trouble around school and campus but he’s never fazed by it, he loves it actually. he also tells you many times though, that he plans on bring you to his homelands so you can meet his family but also to show you around and go through the streets!

as you're someone who's really confrontational and no-nonsense kind of person— whenever you're dealing with some troublesome student, he's surprised but quickly turns to a happy support when you tell someone off. you’ll have kalim be like “yeah you tell them!!” right beside you just watching it unfold alskdjfjs. the first time he saw even a glimpse of that fiery attitude you hold inside was during the events of chapter 4 and you got into Jamil’s face got trying to manipulate you with his magic and sending you to the ends of the desert…! wow he was surprised but wow was he in love.

much alike you kalim as undoubtedly lived a sheltered life with his family during his youth in- he wants to explore and try new things with you all the time. he's practically dragging you out the door every day.

vil schoenheit

he didn't completely understand as to why you're always so chipper and happy. even before you two got into a relationship when he was staying at ramshackle with the others for the vdc training and saw the conditions of the place- yet you were so content with your situation. he’d find you doing your own thing getting work and cleaning down to keep yourself busy or go about helping the others as their “unofficial official manager”. you seemed to find the positives and happiness for anything that happened to you.

vil did grow fond of your voice and wanted to hear it more— he even wondered as to why you didn't try out for it yourself, as he believed you were blossoming with potential. he usually would catch you doing quite often and even helping the others prepare for the contest like epel, sing. he couldn't help but only grow intrigued with you as he heard you using your voice commonly.

your softness around him and others really brings out his more loving side— he can't help but almost feel more protective of you as well. he tries to remind and advise you to be more careful around the students here… he happens to be quite worried of your kindness being used to the advantage of troublesome students here. nevertheless, he’ll softly smile, carefully fix your uniform and tell you “tsk… don't you worry, dear.” if anything of that sorts even attempts to happen.

idia shroud

you're the straightforward and blunt one in contrast to his quiet and unconfrontational self. it's the perfect combination you guys are literally the epitome of “he asked for no pickles” BYE. any interaction idia had with you at first had him flustered and stumbling for his words— not only that but he was completely enthralled by you as well. double hit. idia had even believed that you were someone that was really out of his league and had no idea on how to even begin approaching someone such as yourself.

though you two are a like, you two aren't only in a relationship but you guys are literally each other's best friends as well. you are, whether you admit it or not, seem to be a bit lonely like him. its fine though because you get an extra friend when you start dating him, ortho!! duh… he will immediately accept you as his new sibling the minute he sees idia actually being genuinely giddy and happy around you.

despite how difficult he felt to even attempt to pursue someone like you… being someone like him. he only felt more of a sense of persistence and even infatuation when you tend to be abrasive and untrusting to others (i need to unlock their backstory hihihi) it made him feel too stubborn to give up the idea. not like he could've gotten you out his head anyways.

malleus draconia

malleus has the biggest soft spot for you and its incredibly obvious. he always tells you himself, he’d chuckle and tell you that you remind him of the princess in the tale that cursed into years of slumber. he finds your daydream-y disposition so endearing and usually instead of saying anything about it he silently watches you with a loving gaze of adornment.

he does have a protective streak over you, he can’t help but feel that way. he always seems to be worried about you in some way. he doesn't really talk about his concerns unless its lilia asking him what the troubled expression is for. he sometimes grows fearful of a human such as yourself from another world and being too gentle and kind to the others around you. i mean, just look at how sweet and accepting of himself when you first met him. you had no idea who he really was— a prince and the 5th strongest magic user in the world. yet, he couldn't help but feel like that personality is what made him fall for you even more.

he sometimes thinks you are like silver, as you sometimes have your own moments of tiredness and exhaustion fall on you. he finds it endearing and will make sure he is someone you're able to lean on when seemingly tired. he’ll gentle put his hand on the side of your head and guide it to lay against him.

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