Tumgik
#dark!venom x reader
ghostofthedarkhold · 7 months
Text
symbiotic daydream
pairing: venom!kate bishop x fem!reader
she/her pronouns are used, and mentions of the reader wearing a dress.
word count: 3.4k (3428)
warnings: dark kate, venom forcing kate to think dark thoughts, obsession, stalking, kinda dub-con kissing but not really, no actual smut, groping, suggestive content/language.
a/n: I was going to include smut but this fic really got away from me so if yous like it then I’ll probably do a pt.2 at some point with smut :)
so yeah, surprise, i am doing kinktober this year. however i done absolutely horrible at completing my masterlist last year so this time around im just going to post monster fucking fics as i please with no official masterlist. enjoy!
Tumblr media
Symbiotes in the modern world are few and far between, but it’s no secret that some people have the parasitic creatures leeching on their brain, a passenger in their mind. Most people avoid the people that are bonded to the inky creatures that cause cities to run red with blood and pleasure, others hunt them out after an initial encounter with them, obsessed with the ecstasy they had only been given a crumb of. Rumours of the symbiotes' destruction are nothing new to Kate, something her mother had warned her of for her whole life, their wants corrupting the minds of those they inhibit, but she’d never come across one herself, and while part of her was always curious to see them other than on the news, she was mostly thankful for it. That was, until one latched onto her.
Venom made himself known almost immediately after latching onto the young college student, plaguing her mind with thoughts of sadism, of having girls under her, begging her for mercy that she would never grant. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Venom began trying to persuade her with other things. Pleasure. Overwhelming amounts of pleasure brought upon her victims, making them beg and scream for her. These thoughts were much more difficult for the young archer to shake off. A young, hormonal, and, quite frankly, already insatiable Kate Bishop with never-ending thoughts of sex? She was done for long before she ever accepted, or even realised, it. But she was capable of holding back. Until she saw you.
She first saw you walking out of the movie theatre with some friends. You were tugging down your dress that had ridden up your thighs from sitting in the theatre chair for the past few hours, and Venom was practically screaming at her, trying to force her limbs forward, to stride over to you and pull your dress up your hips instead of allowing you to move it further down. She was able to stop herself, just barely. But without even knowing it, from that moment forward, you had Kate Bishop in your trap.
She was sly, following behind wherever you went without you even knowing it. Stalking behind you in the street, swinging from rooftop to rooftop with the help of Venom’s neverending slick webs of ink, watching you from across the street while you danced and drank in bars, went from store to store on your weekly shopping trip, snuggled in comfortably for the night in the assumed safety of your own bed. You had completely, wholly taken over Kate’s life without ever having met her. Every time she sat down to study she couldn’t do anything but scribble down your name and draw sketches of you from memory in her, admittedly amature and flawed, art style, every time she drew her bow she couldn’t help but picture her arrow sinking into the flesh and piercing the heart of whoever she saw you with last, a crush, a friend, even a stranger you may had just been giving directions to, they were all the same to Kate, undeserving of even being in the same vicinity as you. When she finally cracked and leaned into her new role as your very own, personal stalker and did some idle snooping online, finding out that you were enrolled at the same college as her, everything became much, much worse. Finding out which classes you took, Kate mangled and stretched her schedule out as much as she was able to until she finally managed to land herself a spot in three out of five of your classes, which was honestly more than the brunette had hoped for when she sent out her email, requesting, practically begging for, her new classes.
Kate sat a few rows directly behind you in the partially empty lecture halls, at first content to watch the back of your head and the way you furiously scribbled down notes in attempt to keet up with your various professors ramblings, but eventually that no longer satisfied her need to be near you, she needed to know you. So, with her heart thudding out of chest like that time she tried to ask her crush in middle school to the winter dance, and Venom’s crazed and incessant cheering clattering around in her brain, instead of taking her usual seat, she stopped a few rows ahead than she normally would in Professor Maximoff’s class and slid in the seat beside you, nearly sending your normal seat partner tumbling to the floor. But when your eyes found hers and you gave her that sweet smile she had watched you give others, for months pleading with the universe for it to be directed at her, followed by a shy greeting, Kate no longer worried about the boy she had practically rugby-tackled to the ground. Honestly, the entire world could have imploded at that very second, and as long as you were in a protective bubble and gave her that same smile again, Kate would die happier than she ever had been, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Venom back any longer.
She let him take the lead in her obsession, looking into every part of your life that the internet had to offer. She found where you grew up, details of your family, your favourite books and movies, anything she could squeeze out. Kate was sure that the universe wanted you to be hers when she got the notification that you had accepted her request to your private instagram, the one away from the prying eyes of your parents. Abandoning any shred of reason or dignity she had left, Kate got about an hour of sleep that night due to her endless scrolling of your instagram and any photos you were tagged in, Venom getting particularly rowdy when she came by a picture of you in a bikini on one of your friends accounts.
Kate’s plan to have you was set in motion the very next day, innocently asking you questions about yourself, ignoring the lecture and Professor Romanoff’s harsh warning glares. She learned a lot more about you than the internet ever could have given her, and you in turn learned some facts about Kate. You talked about your famile lives, Kate telling you that she was an only child who was raised by her mother, about hobbies, music, anything and everything Kate could absorb about you, and she cursed how the time flew by when Professor Romanoff informed the class that the lecture was over. Kate begrudgingly packed up her things, trying to take in as much of you as possible, as if she wouldn’t see you the very next morning. She slowly stood up when she noticed you had finished cramming your things into your backpack, and stood up to leave, but her footsteps came to an abrupt stop when you spat out a hurried invite to go to a bar with you and your friends that night. Kate spun around slowly, sure that she couldn’t have possibly heard you right, and she watched for a moment as you chewed on your lower lip, fighting over if you had made the right decision. But before you could retract the invitation in a hurried apology about how you hardly knew each other, ignoring the fact that you were ceratin you had told Kate every note-worthy thing about yourself in the last hour, Kate agreed. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets to prevent her from pumping her first in victory as you quickly scribbled down the address and time on a discarded piece of paper from a random students desk. Kate quickly made a grab for it as soon as your pencil had left the page, looking at it as if it were the Holy Grail, and to Kate, it was. She promised you that she would be there, the brunette already imagining seeing you that night, away from the stuffiness of the lecure halls, before sending you one last longing look and leaving you standing alone by your desk, watching her leave.
What Kate was unaware of was that you had your eye on her for weeks. Not nearly to the degree that Kate wanted you, but the second that you heard Professor Maximoff call out her name, you were looking her up on the schools website on your phone under the desk, intrigued by the new face showing up halfway through the semester. Your eyes nearly buldged out of their sockets when one of the first things you saw, aside from her grinning student ID picture, was Kate with a bow in her hands, looking as it was the most natural thing for the weapon to be there, with muscles straining against her long, fitted sleeves as she drew back her arrow, the headline under it detailing that she had brought another archery trophy home to the college. After that, your deep dive down the rabbit hole that was Kate Bishop was long and thorough, scouring through every mention in the schools website and news article - after ashemedly staring at her arms and hands on every picture for a good five minutes before eventually managing to tear yourself away. After weeks of pining after the star athlete, clinging to her every word when she answered a question or commented on the syllabus, or really anything she said, you could hardly believe your luck when she sat down next to you, your tunnel vision focused on the object of your latest fantasies not allowing you to feel worry for the boy that she elbowed away.
Kate was ecstatic that night as she pushed her way through the door of the bar, nervously tugging on the tie hung loosely around her neck. Venom had been berating her all night over her nerves, Kate rolling her eyes like a petulant child every time. He was right, of course. The deck was completely stacked in Kate’s favour, knowing every detail about you to make you putty in her hands, Still, she couldn’t help the anxiety nagging away at the back of her mind, as if she was about to go on a first date, worrying about impressions and the way she was dressed.
Kate could swear that all of the oxygen was sucked out of the room the second she saw you. You were dressed to the nine’s, especially for the dingy bar that you so regularly frequented, and there was a small bloom of hope within Kate that you had dressed up just for her. You certainly had never put so much effort in any other night you went out, and as far as Kate could see, she was the only change to your night.
Newfound confidence overtook Kate as she strode over to where you and your friends were clustered at the bar, unable to fight off her smirk as you immediately pulled your arm away from where it was slung around one of your friends shoulders, pulling the taller woman into a tight hug.
“You came!” You cheered, overjoyed at Kate’s arrival before pulling away from her, much to Kate’s disappointment, with a blush staining your cheeks, embarrassed at your sudden outburst of affection towards the girl you had only first talked to that afternoon, and Venom was quick to fill Kate’s thoughts of all the other things she could do to bring that redness to your face in other ways.
“Told you I would,” she smiled down at you instead.
It’s a miracle that Kate heard you ask her if she wanted a drink over the 80’s rock music playing from a corner somewhere, the conversations of different patrons that had all blended into one another, and the depraved thoughts clouding her mind. She stuttered out her usual drink order and you skipped off to find a bartender to make it for her, leaving Kate alone with your friends. She knew who they all were, of course, having fantised about watching the light leave most of their eyes after getting too close to you for Kate’s liking. Some looked at her with curiosity, while others with disdain, and Kate wondered why exactly it was that you invited her there.
“We could kill them all before anyone in here could even blink.”
Internally hissing at Venom to shut up, Kate turned her attention back to you. She spun around, completely ignoring the question one of your friends had finally voiced to her. She watched as you leaned over the bar, giggling at something the server had said to you, completely oblivious to the way the angle allowed Kate’s stare to hungrily devour the inches of cleavage that there exposed, angling herself to see down your dress as far as she could. Venom was screaming at her, screeching that now was the time to make their move. And for once, she listened to him.
You weren’t even aware of Kate’s determined gaze set on you, or the heavy foot falls of her boots against the wooden floor, until her hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, dragging you away from whatever conversation that apparently was so hilarious the bartender was clutching his side. Kate promised Venom that they would see his blood before the night was over.
You made a sound of protest as you looked up to see that it was Kate who was dragging you across the bar, making a beeline for the exit. “Wh- Kate, what are you doing?” You questioned, tugging on your arm to try and free it from her bruising grip.
“I need to talk to you,” Kate all but growled out, dragging you through the door to the bar and into the cold New York night air, your short romper doing nothing to protect you from the bitter frost of the oncoming winter.
It was difficult enough having to watch you drape yourself over your friends from afar, watching through windows or scrolling through social media, sure that at least three of them wanted you, or at the very least wanted to fuck you, but watching it mere feet away from her was harder than Kate had predicted, Venom bringing out her baser instincts until all she wanted to do was press you against the nearest surface and claim you as hers and the symbiote’s marking you in front of everyone, anyone who had ever just layed eyes on you. She needed all of New York to know who you belonged to. But, despite Venom egging her on, even trying to take front seat and force her body into the movements, Kate couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, she settled for the next best thing, dragging you into the alley that was cracked between the bar and the next building.
Your questions didn’t cease until your back collided with the hard stone wall of the alley, Kate’s hard body caging you in, and she wasted no time crashing her mouth to yours.
It took a second for you to react, for your mind to process the sudden changes, but as soon as you did you were pressing yourself against Kate as much as you were able to, your hands coming up to her hair and tangling in her raven locks.
The kiss was a fight for dominance that Kate quickly won, slamming your arched back against the wall again, using your surprised and slightly pained yelp to allow her tongue to invade your mouth. You let her taste you, let her consume all of you, and it was the first time within your presence that Kate let her dams break and venom to slip through. She felt the slickness of his ‘flesh’ run down her arm, coating it, looking as if she had dipped it in a vat of tar. Kate’s hair moulded itself in your hands, although you were too preoccupied to notice, the already black locks flowing freely around her. It was only when you both pulled apart, the need for air separating you, that your eyes met hers and you saw that Kate’s were taken over by white.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kate whispered to you, drawing circles where her hand had landed on you hip in an attempt to soothe you, feeling that Venom was breaking free and that you could clearly see that, but her voice was warped. The words were all Kate, Venom’s eagerly encouraging her to continue with the previous activities, but the voice that said them was broken and deeper, and it wasn’t the one you had swooned over a mere ten minutes ago.
“Kate, let go of me,” your voice was smaller, the cheerfulness replaced by fear. You had no idea what was wrong with Kate, but you had no intention of sticking around to find out.
“No,” the voice was harsher now, more deformed, as Kate and Venom both fought for the chance to speak, Kate’s biceps straining as she pushed you up against the wall more firmly, holding your hips in an unbreakable clamp. Any softness that was there before was gone in an instant. You watched as Kate allowed Venom to take the reigns and she ground up against you.
Closing in on you, her body caging you in and leaving nowhere for you to run, Kate moved one of her hands from your hip, up your body, until she got to the neckline of your romper, yanking it down and revealing the lace of your bra.
Kate pawed at your breasts over your bra, and even with her pupils and iris’ gone you could feel her eyes drinking you in.
“So fucking pretty,” you didn’t like the relief that coursed through you when it was purely Kate’s voice that reached your ears. Despite your desperation to run out of the alley and never see her again, her own voice much less terrifying that the distorted sound of Kate and Venom melding together
“All those people looking at you. Shit, baby, wanted to watch my arrows crack into their skull,” Kate’s tone was soft and tender, as if the words were meant to comfort and woo you, but they sent a shock of fear down your spine, the thought of Kate killing someone over you paralysing your every muscle, and Kate accentuated her point with roughly pulling your bra down, freeing your breasts, and you winced at the wire of your bra digging into the soft skin of your sides. “So, so pretty,” Kate repeated, her gaze devouring you whole. “And all mine.”
“Ours,” Venom immediately hissed in her ear, his screeching grating against her brain. “You would have never had her like this if it wasn’t for me.”
Kate just rolled her eyes, ignoring the symbiote, which most definitely didn’t rub him the right way, and you were sure the next words, in a different voice than the last two, came from someone other than Kate entirely.
“I could kill the archer and have you to all to myself.”
That voice was quickly crammed far in the back of Kate’s head, and any movement from her stopped entirely, her hands simply resting on your tits, her entire weight focused on smushing you against the wall behind you as a look of anger twisted its way onto Kate’s face. She was having a war inside her head that you were not privy to.
Minutes passed, and you began to wonder if Kate was going to keep you like this all night, pressed against the wall of an alleyway, breasts on display for any passerby who took a few steps into the shadows, with Kate towering silently above you.
You finally found it in yourself to try and wriggle out of Kate’s grasp, and this is what seemed to wake her from her stupor, her focus snapping back to you.
“Don’t listen to him, baby,” you fought back a cry of relief when Kate’s voice replaced the monstrous one that seemed to have dragged her into her subconscious. You weren’t exactly sure who he was, but you decided that you would much rather have Kate at the forefront than him. “He won’t take me away from you, not ever. No one’s gonna ever separate us again.”
Kate wasn’t sure when it was that she decided to keep you by her side from now on. As soon as she walked into the bar? When she saw you laughing with the bartender? When she felt your lips against hers for the first time? She really didn’t know, but she had decided, and, unbeknownst to you, a future without Kate by your side no longer existed.
115 notes · View notes
liz-allyn · 2 years
Text
Another *ANOTHER* dark angst tasm!peter fic prompt no one asked for
a fanfic writing challenge - my 900th celebration!
Tumblr media
Rules:
have fun
REQUIRED ELEMENT: must feature the number 900 in some way
word min: 900, maximum: 9k. deadline to submit is Friday 9/9 Monday 9/12 at 9:00pm PST.
* must tag me @liz-allyn and put #Lizzy's fic prompts and #Lizzy’s 900 in the tags
must be an angst and/or dark plot, although it can have a happy ending
must feature tasm!peter as the main character, although other peters or marvel characters can be involved.
Submissions will be posted here
Pick one of the 3 prompts listed below and write a fic. it's that simple!
(Below the cut)
Tumblr media
"in the box"
they say the house by the river is haunted. even with the planes flying overhead, you can hear voices sometimes. screams. turns out, there's something locked up in the basement. it's not just something — it's someone.
Tumblr media
"what are we going to do about this?"
you're caught, red-handed, and peter's next move could destroy your life forever. unless... you can convince him otherwise
Tumblr media
"not my peter?"
post no way home, tasm peter comes back to his home dimension with a new lease on life. problem is, another, identical peter parker is happy to take it for himself. that includes you.
Aaaaaaand go! This is open to all, but remember to tag me in your fic to be featured.
128 notes · View notes
lokisgoodgirl · 1 year
Text
The Urge [Loki x Fem. Reader]
A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] Loki's lack of magical contraception yields unexpected results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Breeding kink. Smut. Language. Dirty talk. (w/ 1.8k)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I can smell you." You stopped rinsing dishes, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning off the tap. He’s home early, you thought with mild interest. “What?! Two seconds...” you called. The sound of Loki dropping his keys into the dish by the door rattled. Metal on porcelain. You turned towards the noise, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders suddenly filled the open kitchen doorway. “I said... I can smell you.” he repeated darkly, leaning against the frame.
Loki’s pupils were dilated, only a sliver of electric blue visible at the furthest rims. You ran your hands up the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to coax a smile. “Well I haven’t showered since last night but I didn’t think it was that -oh!” Loki stooped, hoisting your ass-cheeks with his huge palms. Your legs instinctively cinched around his hips, clinging on. It was a long drop to the floor. “I mean what’s between your thighs, wife.” he hummed menacingly. “You’re ripe.” Heat flushed your cheeks, a thrill thundering to the lowest centre of your sex. It was happening. “Are you sure you’re ready for the weight of my full load?” he snarled against the shell of your ear, the meaning in his words abundantly clear. You shivered. Loki had lifted the enchantment impeding his ability to impregnate you, and it had...side effects. “It will be four times what I usually spend inside that tight little slit of yours. I hope you can take it.” he murmured under his breath as he paced in long strides to the bedroom. He lowered you to the bed. You scrambled back on the mattress, running your eyes hungrily up his triangular torso. “And I hope you can keep it.” he spat, roughly yanking the knot in his tie. Loki had warned you that the tidal wave of god-level hormones would make him a little strange. A little less...sentimental. But even he wasn’t aware just how animalistic he would become in his mission to give you what you desired. What you both desired. He stripped the black suit jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning the dark shirt slowly as he tilted his head. His gaze stalked over your body, breathless and flushed. He was hard already, his thick cock snaking down his thigh against the tight cotton. “How am I to make you fat with my offspring if you do not remove your clothes?” There was a venom in his voice that made you clench. “Oh, right- sorry.” you mumbled, tugging off your stained t-shirt. You lifted your hips, fumbling the waistband down. “Too long.” he scoffed impatiently, before leaning and grabbing the lowered nylon crotch. In one swift movement, the leggings ripped at the seams, half of the pair landing on the bed-knob. Your husband's stare smouldered with barbarism, his deep love hibernating as primal urges came to the fore. Loki ripped the belt from his hips, the coil of leather falling discarded with a loud crack to the floor.
You shuffled backwards on the martial bed as he unzipped his trousers, the perfect cock that had made love to you thousands of times looking different somehow. Harder? Bigger? you thought frantically, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his naked body descended. Loki’s hair fell wild around his collarbone, eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin to his chest. That smouldering gaze never left your own. “Don’t be afraid, darling." Loki nudged your knees apart gruffly. “You are worthy of breeding with a god, you should be grateful.” He wrapped his long fingers around your delicate wrists. “And I intend to thoroughly breed you tonight, pup. You can be sure of that.” You could feel the swollen tip of his manhood sliding against your entrance, the sticky mess of ovulation grasping against pre-cum gathered at the head. “Oh-my-g-god…” you gasped, unable to form proper words. You had never been more turned on in your life.
“That’s it. Praise me, little one.” Loki purred, before a long inhale made his eyes flutter closed in lust-drunk anticipation. “Such a well-bred cunt you have...” he hummed appreciatively, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “Perfect for a god’s seed...” he rasped, releasing one wrist to palm the nearest breast upward. “... perfect for soaking in what I have to give.” he continued lazily. Loki nuzzled against your ear as his grip returned to the free wrist strewn above your head. “My prize breeding bitch.” You arched your back, feeling your pussy gape against the throbbing cock nestled tauntingly between your folds. Ready to burst. He released a ragged moan against your ear, pulsing between your open thighs. “I can’t keep myself out much longer, I can’t resist you like this – you have one final chance to stop before I fill you.” he panted quietly, a semblance of familiarity cracking through feral domination. You shook your head, murmurs of don’t stop passing your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his own. He snarled, mouth falling open as his wide tip squeezed past the tight opening. Loki swallowed, the veins in his neck straining. “Prepare for everyone in nine realms to know you have been fucked into this pathetic state.” he growled ceremonially. He bottomed out with a staggered groan as his grip on your wrists tightened. “And fucked by whom.” You squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips into the curves of his enormous muscular thighs. Waves of bliss soared as he grunted with every slow thrust, devastatingly measured. “Tell me I’m your slut, Loki-” you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs mercilessly towards your ears. Loki's eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking around the mess of twin flesh. He grit his teeth, curls swinging around his jaw as he watched himself disappear repeatedly into your ripe heat. “Remember who it is you have sheathed in your cunt, little one.” he grunted, balls slapping. “I only fuck my slut, I don’t breed her.” You whimpered, lost in a haze of unadulterated eroticism. It was filth. His voice. His hands. His cock. His words. “You’re so fucking t-tight.” he gasped, releasing a rasping moan that shook the Asgardian trinkets on the side-table. “I’m going to pound you so full of my...uhhh- sacred c-cum that you’ll be dripping from that pretty m-mouth.”
Your husband's voice vibrated around the apartment, the timbre so low you were sure it would sink through the floorboards. He was unhinged, the grip around your calves making halos of lightened skin appear beneath the dent of his fingertips. “Don’t-don’t stop...Loki” you gasped, frozen in place by his weight. The god snarled, his upper lip disappearing as his eyes flashed. “I said I would breed you, and I intend to.” he spat, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you to all fours. His slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch as your palms hit the mattress. In a flash, long fingers grasped the nooks of your hips, sinking himself possessively back inside. The two of your groaned in unison as your ass hit the flat of his stomach.
“The way that ripe pussy is desperate to milk me, I won’t last…” he fawned, before placing a tight slap against your ass. “But then, pleasure is not the order of business. Not your pleasure, anyway..” The god muttered darkly under his breath, rhythmically pulling you tight against the base of his shaft before pushing you forwards. The fingers against your flesh would leave bruises. Animalistic grunts clouded the air like smoke as he railed into you like the beat of a drum. You could feel the veins in his cock swell. They pulsed, his body gearing to give you what you craved. Loki’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths scorching the air as he lost himself in the mission. Lost himself in the urge. Whines of his name leaked from your throat, your cheek lowering to the mattress- ass in the air like a bitch in heat. Loki’s hips juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit making you want to scream. And then you screamed. Loki chuckled, a choked laugh between stuttering, messy pumps. “That’s it. That’s.it - my breeding mare, taking the mount of your s-stallion as he fucks you full- f-f-fuck-” You and he moaned in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folded against your back. You could feel the condensation of primal need on your neck from his breath, his cock tugging inside your needy pussy with shallow thrusts as he came undone. He needed this. He needed it just as much as you did. “Fill me p-prince- yes, give it...fucking give it to me-” you thundered. Your hips thrashed as you shoved you ass back to keep his cock steady against your wet centre. “All of it?” Loki choked, planting another smack on your ass with a broken moan. “Every fucking d-drop…” you managed through a strangled cry. The god roared behind you. You could feel thick cream spurt against clenching walls, hot seed sloshing and rising inside the deepest part of you. Loki's firm chest curled against your spine, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on your back. His hips juddered as he emptied himself inside your messy, fertile heat. Every drop. You could sense the clench of his perfect ass as he pumped several more times, milking himself in the slop of his own seed. Dwindling ragged grunts peppered the air, the tender slide of his palms over the curve of your ass telling you that his work was done.
“Stay still.” he murmured, carefully drawing himself from between your legs. Wet slurps filled the air, the light touch of his fingers grazing against your dripping slit. Inspecting. “Turn over-” he said gently, as if to a patient; “-slowly.” he added, before guiding you on your back. There was a broad smile on his face. “Legs up.” he quipped, still kneeling. You rolled your eyes playfully, manoeuvring your crossed ankles to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you.” he said tentatively, placing a deep kiss on the calf to his side. A blissed-out smile fluttered on your lips. “I love you too.” you replied, reaching for his hand. Loki squeezed. “Based on that performance, we should probably make the most of the next few days.” you sighed, resting back against the pillow. Loki scoffed. “Have you so little faith in my ability to-” He trailed off, seeing the twitch of your eyebrow. “Oh.” he smouldered, pushing his hair back with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. Indeed, darling. Very wise.” He placed another kiss on your ankle, the tip of his nose inhaling seductively down your calf as his words made you shiver with anticipation. “Better safe than sorry.” he whispered darkly against your skin.
Tumblr media
Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf
7K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 9 months
Note
“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader
idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭
thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.
“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”
Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”
Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.
The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.
“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”
You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.
“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”
A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.
Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.
His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 
You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”
The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 
Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.
“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 
It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 
Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.
“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.
“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 
“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”
Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”
Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 
You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.
The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”
“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.
“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”
The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”
“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”
“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 
While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.
You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 
And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 
And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.
That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.
Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”
You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”
“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”
You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.
“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.
He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”
There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.
“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”
You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.
“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”
“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.
Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”
“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 
Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.
“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”
“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”
One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.
“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”
“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.
The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 
“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 
He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.
You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.
“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”
“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.
His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”
“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.
Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.
He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 
You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.
“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”
“Shut up…” you murmur.
“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”
“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.
“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”
“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.
Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”
3K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Title: Creature Feature.
Yandere: Yandere!Miguel x Reader.
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Mentions of Non-Human Anatomy, Obsessive Behavior, and Rough Sex.
Tumblr media
You weren’t sure when you decided the man living in your house and fathering your daughter was not your husband.
It might’ve been last week, when you caught him sitting in his unlit study hours after he’d promised he would come to bed, his eyes glowing vaguely red as he fiddled with a device you didn’t recognize with tools you’d never seen him use, before. It might’ve been two months ago, when Gabi’s teacher called you into a conference to discuss your daughter’s worrying new obsession with spiders and superheroes and the holographic women that, if what she’s been telling her classmates is to be believed, read her bedtime stories when her father wasn’t home. It might’ve been that first night – when he came home from work hours late and doting a black eye, missing the glasses you would never see him wear again and too shell-shocked to do anything more than stand in Gabi’s doorway and let you fuss over him. You’d done everything you should’ve, kissed his cheek and begged him to tell you what happened and pretended to believe him when he said there’d been an accident at the research facility, but it hadn’t felt right, hadn’t felt like it would’ve if you’d been taking care of the man you’d loved for most of your life.
And, when he snapped out of his daze long enough to drag you into his arms and pull you into a kiss more forceful than anything your Miguel would’ve been capable of, you couldn’t help but shudder, but draw back when his hands started to drift lower and he proved to share your husband’s instability, if only that. That was what made the final decision, really. He wasn’t your husband, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see a glimmer of something you recognized when you looked at him.
Or, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t normally see a glimmer of something you recognized.
Right now, you knew the man on top of you was a total stranger.
He wasn’t Miguel. He couldn’t have been. Miguel would never hold you so tightly, never dig his fingertips so deeply into your waist, never be so determined to keep you so suffocatingly close to him. His nails would never be so sharp – pointed claws piercing your skin, drawing blood that dripped down your sides and pooled on the sheets beneath you – and he’d never been so massive, either, bulging muscle lining his arms, his defined chest heaving with every ragged breath and strangled moan, both a far cry from the borderline malnourished lab-rat that was the love of your life. His face was malformed, misshapen; curved fangs poking past his parted lips, distorting the shape of his mouth and leaking drops of luminescent venom that fell onto your chest and coated everything they touched with the same numbing, buzzing static. Even his eyes – the eyes you’d always loved, the eyes you would’ve known if nothing else of your husband remained – were gone, drowned out by the shadows cast over his face, the darkness you couldn’t seem to shake when he was around. What little remained was tinted red and bloodshot, pushed miles past the point of remote familiarity. You’d let this stranger, this thing into your home. You’d let him drive your daughter to school, look after her when she was sick.
You hadn’t let him fuck you, but he was fucking you, and you hadn’t been able to stop him.
The sounds he was making were awful, too. Your husband had been adorably shy, prone to biting his tongue and repeating your name over and over and over again, as if the feeling of your cunt milking his cock made it impossible to remember anything else. This Miguel was, in comparison, couldn’t seem to stop making those terrible noises; throaty grunts and airy moans spilling past his lips, only partially muffled by your skin as he buried his face in the curve of your throat. One of his hands fell to your thighs, curling around it and forcing your knee against your chest, making it so he could force himself that much deeper into you, so he could thrust into you with that much more raw strength. You were glad Gabi was staying at a friend’s, tonight. Her room was next to yours, and you would’ve been surprised if there was an apartment in your building that couldn’t hear your headboard beating against the wall, couldn’t make out every pitchy rise and fall of the drawn-out whine choked out of some deep, vulnerable pocket in your chest as he buried those pointed fangs in the crook of your neck.
You felt him force something into you, your vision blurring as the blood seemed to smolder in your veins. Suddenly, the feeling of his pelvic bone catching on your clit was unbearable, your own slick now burning as it dripped down your thighs. It wasn’t a whine you let out, this time, but a sob – ragged and broken, hitched as it emerged from uncooperative lungs and further fractured by the way his chest pressed into yours as he straightened his back, as he drew back just far enough to smile down at you, to let those cruel eyes go soft and half-lidded. “Oh, mi amor…” You didn’t notice you were crying until his hand cupped your face, until his thumb swiped over your cheek and came away wet. “I could fall in love with you all over again.”
Your husband would never say that. Your husband would never imply that there ever could’ve been a world where he wasn’t in love with you, that there ever could’ve been a life he would’ve led that wouldn’t feature you at its center. Your husband would never grow fangs and claws and force himself on you with all the care and tenderness of a rampaging monster. Your husband—
Your husband wasn’t here.
Your husband wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem like he’d ever be coming back.
You curled into yourself, sobbing unabashedly. Miguel (or, whatever the creature on top of you called himself) welcomed your devastation with open arms, leaning back and pulling you onto his lap, bouncing you on his cock as a low, reverberating purr sparked in the base of his throat and filled what little empty space was left in your bedroom. He watched on as you scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh as he nuzzled into the dip of your shoulder and went on. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his cock practically throbbing against the walls of your cunt. “I don’t know how I got by without you. I’m never—” A fractured moan, the tips of pointed teeth ghosting over your jugular. “I’m never letting you leave my side again.”
It was a promise, a threat, spoken with enough dedication to send a cold shudder up the length of your spine. You only realized your mouth had fallen open when you heard your own voice, distant and distraught. “Who... who are you?”
Some part of you expected him to devolve, for what was left of his disguise to fall away and reveal rows upon rows of jagged teeth that would tear into your skin, countless eyes that would stare you down like some trapped insect, half a dozen more arms and hands he could use to grab and grope and pull and maim. You expected blood to spill by the bucketful, flesh to melt away like candlewax, rough edges and broken anatomy and all the terrible monstrosities that had to be lingering inside of a creature like him. You expected all the worst things you could possibly imagine, but in the end, what you got was so, so much worse.
His manic grin melted into a softened smile. He pressed another open-mouthed kiss into your throat before pulling away, staring down at you with more love than anything human could’ve spared. “I’m your husband.” And then, again, as he settled so deeply inside of you, you could only pray you’d be able to forget the feeling of him, one day.
“I’m yours.”
2K notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 2 months
Text
Aggravating
Dad Bod!Miguel x Spider-Woman!Reader
TW/CW: Smut. Smut in general. NSFW, PIV sex, office sex, teeth, hints at venom useage, a bit of pining(?) feelings! Body hair! Soft tummy Miguel! Dom(ish)!Miguel, a bit of bullying
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Blame @cupcakeinat0r for this. I really needed the distraction and our conversation is helping me a bit getting the creative among other things juices flowing!
Taglist: @tojishugetiddies
Tumblr media
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
You had been... less than covert about the way you ogled your boss. On one hand, your Spidey mask was useful for hiding your eyes and face away from somebody's view; on the other hand, Miguel just somehow knew you were staring at him.
And... yeah. At first you were crushing on him, a young, single fresh-faced Spidey welcomed into a bigger picture suddenly comes face to face with the body of a Greek god. He swooped in to save you from a variant of Kraven before he could make a possibly fatal swipe.
After that, he admitted that he'd had an eye on you, such a promising candidate who just needed the right amount of guidance.
(The fact he has that gorgeous jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass plus those jaw-dropping eyes of his certainly helped you make your decision too.)
But you had been too much of a wimp to ever fess up, instead settling for pining in silence, throwing the occasional stare his way at his perfectly globed ass. (Seriously, did he purposefully design his suit to accentuate his ass or what?)
But the plain, flat-out ogling didn't begin until he began to gain more weight. Realizing his stress didn't have to be solely on his own shoulders, Miguel began to relax. He began to eat more, sleep more. Or, well, as much as a normal person should be eating and sleeping. You surmised he was likely dehydrated a lot, too...
Because once he picked up a steady diet (of what you didn't know, maybe he was a secret chef in the kitchen in addition to having the multiverse's greatest brain?) he began to look... healthier.
He gained weight, his formerly slim and perfectly cut abs and waistline began to fatten out, gain a delicious softness you wished to just lay your head over, or perhaps snuggle and squeeze.
Peter B made a joke to Miguel about comparing "dad bods" and god, when Miguel indulged him (mostly just to get him to leave him alone) he used his tech to have the top half of his suit vanish in rainbowy spiderweb-like patterns until he was naked from the waist up.
And... fuck. Your legs went weak at the sight of him.
Dark wisps of hair across his chest, spreading down his soft, plush-looking midsection to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants.
Even with that soft belly, Miguel looked built like a shitbrick house. Peter B had pouted, knowing he'd lost his little game before sauntering away, bragging about something along the lines of "well at least I have the prettiest baby mama in the whole multiverse!". Good for him, you had thought.
But very quickly as your eyes greedily raked up his frame, you realized he had been staring right back at you.
You very quickly rattled off some excuse and dropped off your report on your most recent mission, yanked your mask back down your face and scurried out of there.
Though you'd be lying if you didn't immediately shove your hand down your pants once you got home, playing with yourself at the mere thought of being pressed up against Miguel's soft-yet-imposing frame; feeling his dick (oh you just knew he was packing a monster, down there) stuff you full and stretch you out, the coarse dark haira brushing your clit with every slam of his hips.
You went to sleep thinking this was merely some kind of office crush, trying to force down the thoughts you had of your boss.
Little did you know, he often stole his own glances at you.
He needed to find a way to solve your little problems, soon.
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
"This is what you wanted, isn't it, princesa?" Miguel grunted, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass sinfully loud in his dark office.
Your body was perfectly illuminated by the dim orange lights on his monitors; every curve, dip and deliciously squeezable part of your jiggling ass as he fucked you.
The sounds your pussy made as you swallowed him deep were the most lewd you ever could have imagined yourself making, especially the little sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.
Your suit has been torn right between your legs, freeing your soaked, swollen folds to his lascivious gaze before he had crammed two heavy fingers into your needy cunt.
Your tits squished against his desktop, and a whimper comes from you when he settles over you, the weight of his body pressing tighter down around you.
You could feel the soft flesh of his belly mold around your back, almost like a hug. Almost like how he had your head trapped in a headlock as he bullied his cock into you and stuffed you full of him.
Your brain was so set on your one-track focus of how good it felt to just have him fuck you, to use you, that you barely registered a word he said.
Having his warmth surround you and fill you had effectively rendered you dumb.
You choked slightly when you heard him hiss in your ear, his sharp fangs grazing the soft skin; he squeezed his arm a bit around your neck and that's what knocked you back into reality.
You were here. In his office, bent over and having your guts reorganized by a man you had been pining for for months.
The pent up sexual tension had finally exploded when he confessed his own interest in you, and he met you halfway with a kiss that was all tongue and need; loud and messy.
Like how he was bullying his cock into your tight little hole.
"My dick that good, bebé?" He panted, leaning back away from you to grip your hips in his meaty palms, squeezing your soft flesh as he stared, almost mesmerized at the creamy ring at the base of his cock as it disappeared into your dripping wet pussy.
Already on the floor between you was a small puddle of your slick.
"So good that I fucked you stupid after just a couple thrusts?" He said, his voice gravelly as he tried to keep it even, to betray the fact he wanted to just rut into you like a mad animal.
All you could do in reply was whine, a breathy sound that was almost a squeak as you mourned the loss of his soft body surrounding you.
The sound of him relentlessly fucking you cunt was abruptly halted and he let out a shaky breath, staring down at you. "I swear... did I nick you with my fangs? Shit... Maybe we should stop--"
"N-no!" You moaned out, desperately trying to roll yourself back against him in his grip. "Please, don't! I just--I just need more!"
Miguel grinned as you flattened your hands on the table, desperately trying to fuck yourself onto his cock but getting nowhere.
"Ahhh there's my good girl. Doing so good f'me." He purred, leaning back over you once again, his arms caging around you, encasing you in his wonderfully soft warmth, the hair on his body tickling your skin.
His lips traced the shell of your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty skin;
"Wanna watch you take my cock all day. Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a month--"
You made a long, loud mewl as he snapped his hips in suddenly, bottoming out so hard you felt him smash into your cervix; almost making you pass out from the force of it alone.
"This is what you wanted, sweetheart. Jus' giving it all t'you." He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he began relentlessly pounding into you once again.
1K notes · View notes
huicitawrites · 9 months
Text
Patiently Craving 
Yandere! Sukuna x Reader 
warnings: major jjk spoilers (non/manga readers, or manga readers not up to date), assault, yandere behaviour
word count: 4k
Tumblr media
It has been a long, arduous, night of study- you and Yuuji stayed up past twelve to finish a history group work. Jujutsu history homework was no easy task, for there were various curses, clans, battles, cursed techniques, and objects to recall. Still, the two of you managed to push through with the blessed help of some energy drinks and snacks. 
Yuuji sighed as he carried over a blanket to your form that was passed out on the couch. The pink-haired boy felt a little bit guilty; he should be the one sleeping on the couch. It was common courtesy that he should lend you his bed if you were staying over at his dorm. 
But you insisted, and ever so persistent, Yuuji could not get past you. So now here he was, gently placing down a blanket over your form to keep you warm. 
The blanket was slowly descending when it happened again. 
For just a second, an extremely dangerous second, Yuuji’s body shook. His face contorted uncontrollably, his eyebrows trembled, and a wicked grin plastered itself. Out of his own bodily command, Yuuji’s eyes widened and the hidden eyelids in his cheekbones popped open. 
The monster threatened to come out. 
But then, Itadori Yuuji’s contained him, again. 
Yuuji’s hand had tossed the blanket. He bent over to pick it up. His lips were tight against each other and he flared his nostrils to get a good breath of air. He opened his mouth wide and as he exhaled, he tried to let his body loose and ignore the stiffness of his muscles. He settled the blanket on you, and this time, he was hesitant to touch your body or get any closer. 
His face showed despair and signs of concern, and his heartbeat fast and climbed in his throat. 
He was afraid, but he better not show, not let the monster know. Yet Yuuji knew of such to be naive, for the curse is one with his body, a parasite- and Yuuji is his vessel. 
“Don’t be a fool.” A voice, deep, rumbly, and cunning spoke. Its words laced with the venom of mockery as a soft, condensing, chuckle vibrated after. 
A voice, a tone, Yuuji was familiar with. The one he despised the most, Sukuna Ryomen. 
He glares down with his four eyes from the comfort of his skull-throne, a tall phantom tori-gate framing his body and painting him in a royal manner- The King of Curses, of course. 
Itadori clicked his tongue and blew air against his lips his eyebrows, furrowed, and with much annoyance he faced his enemy forth. 
“What do you want, Sukuna?” 
He is not scared to say his name, if anything, he is tired of saying it. He spits it out without any hint of respect, the King's antics have grown old and bothersome on him. Sukuna’s grin twists into a cheshire smile and he scrutinizes Yuuji with his hellish crimson irises. 
“You know well what I want,” His head cocks to the side and lands on his clawed palm, the other set of fingers tapping rhythmically on the throne’s armrest. 
Usually, Yuuji tries to keep his cool. The pink-haired boy is aware of the manipulative tactics and shenanigans of the curse, so he knows better than to give in and be played by his words to physically maintain him at bay. 
Albeit, this is not the case, not when it is about the life of a friend. More so when it is about his unexpected and inexplicable obsession, he has with you. Yuuji does not know how or why, but you have caught the eye of Sukuna. 
“Fuck you,” Yuuji spat at him, and Sukuna simply laughed, “I will never let you, ever.” Yuuji looked up at him to challenge him, meeting his piercing stare with one of his own dark eyes. 
Sukuna’s cheeks puffed, only to explode into wild laughter. Yuuji simply stand still, tall, and straight- unfazed. He must not lose his cool, not let him grasp the reigns. 
He must not take over, not with you here so close and vulnerable. 
Surely, people have priorly done this- the feat of impressing the King. Gojo, who is the strongest and Sukuna's biggest threat, and Megumi for some reason Yuuji has not yet deciphered. In any case, it is their power and potential that beckons Sukuna, and which made them appear worthy, he guessed.  
With you- it is completely different. You are not a particularly strong sorcerer; you are at the same level as him and Kugisaki. You also lack any inherited technique. heavenly pact or extraordinary mumbo-jumbo from the jujutsu world. 
And yet- you caught his interest. Somehow, your presence grew on Sukuna. At first Yuuji did not notice, for it was subtle. Like a little gut-feeling whenever he was around you, like he could suddenly feel Sukuna paying attention and listening with keen ears, 
After a while, it became more obvious, but not obvious enough. If Yuuji happened to walk away from you, be it because he was heading somewhere else or something, his body protested. His legs became a bit heavier, and his torso and shoulders tried slightly to twist in your direction. Even further- Sukuna's mouth began to pop out randomly but in your presence. Sometimes, the curse would tease you or mock you, or smile wickedly at you- all which made Yuuji apologize profusely. 
The last, most prominent, bright red flag which slapped Yuuji into the implications of Sukuna's undivided attention occurred in a mission two months ago. The four of you had been sent to exterminate a couple of small grade curses, and unfortunately the lot of you miscalculated the situation. A special-grade curse, a cursed womb to be precise, rose within the shadows and overwhelmed the team. Yuuji was out of breath, Kugisaki had only a few nails left and Fushiguro had already spent more than half his arsenal, and you were far from them, snatched by the throat by the curse. You were passing out on its claws as you thrashed through your last breath. Yuuji recalls vividly how your writhing form made the curse inside of him snap.  
Itadori was surprised to find himself detached from his body as he watched from a spectator's standpoint. His body launched at top velocity and obliterated the curse with one swipe of his hand. Merciless, unbound, and wild- yet delicate when he held you. This had never happened before, Sukuna would never help someone else, Yuuji was testimony to that when Sukuna laughed cruelly alongside Mahito at Junpei's tragic predicament. 
But there you were, unharmed on his arms, passed out, and Yuuji swore he even felt Sukuna clutch you tighter. Heck, his clawed hand carefully caressed your face and nudged aside the hair strands. Oh, this was fucked up, he realized. So, he did what was entrusted to him, and regained control of his body. Kugisaki and Megumi observed with widened eyes and slacked jaws. The silence between the three of them was loud and spoke volumes. That day the three of them expressed their concerns to their teacher and decided to hide this incident from you- in their version of the tale, Yuuji saved you, which was half-the-truth in the least. 
After the incident that almost cost you your life, Sukuna got worse. He was unbearable and unashamed, the curse attempted to take over his body numerous times. Anytime, anywhere. In Jujutsu High, during missions, in the streets even. It was tiresome, but Yuuji would not budge. He even tried to distance himself from you, but your friendly self was too naive to notice.  
Each day, Yuuji fights to keep his body to himself and protect you, and Sukuna fights to break free and do whatever he wants with you, which terrified Yuuji. 
Yuuji didn't realize how close Sukuna got to him whilst he was lost in thought and memory, but realization had been too late by the time the Cursed King delivered a blow right to his gut. The two-eyed salmon haired coughed in pain and fell to the ground, and his counterpart used this opportunity window to press the sole of his foot on his face, harshly. Yuuji's skull resisted, and the palm of his hands went to both sides of his chest, but he couldn't pick himself a centimeter up. His face was flushed and rubbed onto the mysterious watery floor, and Sukuna chuckled devilishly. 
"Just what exactly do you plan to do to stop me? You cannot even pick yourself up, idiotic brat" The force pushing him into the floor got stronger, the foot twisted deeper into his cheek. Yuuji opened his mouth in any way he mustered, but before any words came out of his mouth, Sukuna fully stomped his feet and Yuuji sank into the water. 
He woke up on the tatami of his dorm in cold sweat and rushing heartbeat, a dry throat to top it all. '(Y/n)!', Yuuji snapped his head to glance at the coach. He stood up desperately, his legs stumbling, and he fell on the coach's armrest. His own eyes scanned your sleeping form; indeed, you were resting peacefully.  
Itadori Yuuji's body collapsed on itself slowly. He fell on his rear, and then tired on his back. He faced the plain ceiling. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. Once he gathered himself, Yuuji glanced out the window and distinguished the light and smooth colors of dawn.  
Fuck, it was late. 
Naturally, he sought out the clock hanging on his dorm wall and his hand came to his forehead, where it damped. He brought it up his hair before it slid down to cover his eyes, and a series of swear words and curses left his mouth in a hush manner. 
Time, he was running out of time. 
Tumblr media
“Fushigoro?” 
Itadori Yuuji asked with a cracked voice. As an answer, he only received the distorted laughs of his friend, Megumi Fushigoro - no, of the curse possessing his friend, Ryomen Sukuna. 
‘Fuck, fuck! How could this be?!’ 
Both you and Yuuji stood frozen in place, shocked. The tables had turned drastically, never had you entertained the thought of Sukuna switching into another vessel, least of all Megumi. 
You took a quick glance at Yuuji. He looked heartbroken. Sukuna looked delighted, joyous, ecstatic. He ran his hands on his new hair, feeling the black locks of Fushigoro Megumi. 
“Stupid brat, you didn’t really think through our Binding Vow,” he blurted in between laughs, his voice alien to his body as the red eyes filled with mockery and disdain. 
“Die.” 
You saw Megumi, no, Sukuna, incoming, and you picked up your stance, you looked sideways to Yuuji, and - 
“Yuuji!!! Dodge!!!” You cried out for your friend, your arm desperately reaching for him, your body ready to sabotage its survival instincts to push him out of the way. 
But you were too slow, and he did not move a muscle. He just stood there and took the powerful blow. 
Eyes widened; you saw him spit out blood. With a single blow to the gut, Sukuna blasted Yuuji away, and his body crashed through several buildings, far from your sight.  
It is about damn, fucking time. That Itadori brat has had his use, and at this point, he was becoming more of a prison than a vessel. Although dumb, weak, and naive, that brat did only one thing right. 
He could restrain him. 
Every.single.fucking.time. 
Sukuna had tried more than a couple of times to catch you off guard. When you turned around, when you were too focused to notice your surroundings, when you stayed over to sleep at the brat's, when you were too weak and exhausted to fight, or simply anytime Ryomen Sukuna desired. 
And each single fucking time, the damn brat stopped him. 
But now, now that was a thing of the past. A nuisance he no longer had to deal with. Not as he had the body of Megumi Fushigoro under his control, and with a single punch to the gut, that weakling was done with. 
Sukuna laughed, his eyes wide and mad, his pupils dilated, and his toothy grin wicked. 
About. Damn. Fucking. Time. 
Horror painted a canvas on your face, and despair formed a pit in your chest, but despite it all, you managed to cast a spell. Even with a tight lump inside your throat, you brought your hands together in a seal - your last two fingers crossed each other and the first three touched each other. 
“Caladrius!” You conjured a white owl Shinigami big enough to carry you. You grasped its feathers to propel yourself upwards and climb it, but a tough arm grabbed you by the ankle. 
“Oh, no, you won’t.” 
He pulled you down, and you failed to resist his strength, but you were quick to command the owl to set off on its own. It was more important that it reached Yuuji, for his sake, yours, and Megumi’s - if he was still there, he had to be there, deep down. 
With the usurped body of your friend, his black hair thrown back out of his usual hairstyle and sinister signature tattoos invading his skin, the ‘borrowed’ arms went around your waist, and his sharp claws slightly tore the layers of your clothes, prodding at the skin below. 
“Do you like my new host, [Y/n]? I sure do; it feels refreshing,” The usurper said nonchalantly in your ear as you struggled against his frame. He chuckled at your struggle, finding it cutely futile if anything. 
Sukuna lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. He was slow, painfully so, taking his sweet time in tormenting you. 
"So sweet," he whispered in your ear, but blood did not rush to your face nor taint the tips of your ears. No. That intimidating aura, that immeasurable amount of cursed energy so close to you. 
You froze. 
You could die here and now. 
Only when you felt a slim sensation up your neck, dangerously close to your jugular, did you wince. Snapping out of your shocked state, you began to thrash in his hold. 
Sukuna merely chuckled; you could feel his chest and abdomen rising and falling against your back. He laughed and laughed, baring his teeth and fangs, his four eyes brimming with joy. He dragged his maniacal display until it ended with a satisfactory sigh. His expression fell, his grin fell flat, and his eyes narrowed. 
“You don’t have any idea how much I wanted out from that Itadori brat." the King of Curses sighed. 
His arms began to snake around your waist, and his clawed hands grasped your skin. His sharp nails dragged tightly against your skin, leaving a thin reddish trail behind, but you were too focused on his words. “All this time I have been looking at you, woman, my woman. My future queen.” Such a passionate confession would leave anyone stuttering with a mad blush, but this was Ryomen Sukuna, the enemy of all enemies, the worst of curses, a threat to any living being - he couldn’t be serious, this just could not be real. 
This was madness. 
“You made friends with two weak and idiotic boys, did you know? But I must admit, at least that damn Itadori brat did quite the job in restraining me.” His nails began to feel tighter on your skin and were threatening to tear into you at any moment. 
“All this time, I’ve been craving you.” He parted his lips and brought out his tongue, lapping it all the way up your neck. Sukuna relished it - he could taste your fear, and he loved it. 
It was addicting. 
He continued, “Now, now [Y/N]. If I had to tell you something with all my years of experience, is that I do not like being bothered” The King of Curses could sense people coming, and while he normally enjoyed torturing and murdering his enemies, just for this time he would rather be left alone, with you. 
Utilizing the body of the Fushigoro boy, he moved his grasp from your waist and brought them together in a seal, in front of your abdomen - of course, silly, he would not let you go. 
"Nue," his deep voice vibrated against your ear, and a wave of cursed energy flooded the area. You shot up your head, and your jaw dropped. Megumi's bird Shinigami had turned into a colossal predator, at least four times its usual size, and it even developed a tail. With the flap of its wings, thunder and lightning surged, attacking the neighboring area around you and Sukuna. 
The sight of the beast made you snap out of your haste. You had to do something. Although you were powerless against this demon, Megumi was still there. He was being held prisoner in his own body, but he could break free. If you could just reach out to him, "Megumi! I know you are there! You can snap out of it, just like Yuuji! C'mon Megumi!" 
Naively, your eyes sought for eye-contact. Only to see the four red irises of Sukuna, his tattoos shifting along with the grin on his face. 
"Megumi? Really? He may be able to hear you, [Y/N], but I assure you, he's not coming back," Sukuna purred, his grip on you tightening. "Don’t make me jealous now, calling out another man’s name... I’d rather you call out mine." 
Desperation and fear surged through your veins, but you refused to give in to Sukuna's taunts. Summoning every ounce of courage, you had left, you clenched your fists and glared defiantly at him. 
"You're wrong! Megumi is strong, and he won't let you control him forever. I believe in him, and we will find a way to break your hold on him!" You retorted, determination shining in your [e/c] eyes. 
Sukuna's laughter filled the air, echoing around you like sinister bells of doom. "Oh, how amusing! Your faith in him is laughable. But I'll humor you, my dear [Y/N]. Let's see how long you can hold on to that hope before I make you mine entirely." 
As Sukuna's laughter subsided, you felt a surge of raw energy emanating from him. The air crackled with malevolence as Sukuna prepared to unleash his Nue’s full power. But before he could strike, an unexpected presence intervened. 
A figure emerged from the shadows, radiating a powerful aura that seemed to challenge even Sukuna's might. Itadori Yuuji, battered, bruised and with several cuts from the earlier blow, stood tall with a determined glint in his eyes. 
"Leave [Y/N] alone, Sukuna! This is between you and me," Yuuji declared, his voice steady despite the pain. 
Sukuna's lips curled into a sinister grin. "You still think you can stand up to me, boy? I'll enjoy tearing you apart, scum." 
Yuuji's resolve only strengthened. He clenched his fists and channeled every ounce of cursed energy he possessed. "I won't let you hurt [Y/N], and I won't let you get away with what you've done." 
Using another set of Megumi’s shikigamis, Sukuna conjured the monster serpent (now, a full, intimidating horned cobra) and it curled tight around you- rendering you immobile as it drained you of your cursed energy.
The battlefield crackled with tension as Sukuna and Yuuji faced each other, locked in an inevitable clash. Meanwhile, you struggled against the shikigami’s tailed hold, trying to summon every ounce of cursed energy within you to break free. The ground trembled beneath your feet as the battle commenced. 
It soon became clear that Yuuji was no match for Sukuna's overwhelming power. Despite his valiant efforts, Sukuna's strength and cunning proved to be too much to handle. With a single devastating attack, Yuuji was defeated, lying unconscious on the ground. 
“Yuuji!!!” You screamed and tears welled up in your eyes. 
Sukuna stood triumphantly over Yuuji's fallen form, a sinister grin stretching across his face. "Pathetic brat," he sneered, "You were never worthy of her attention. But now, she's all mine." 
Your heart pounded in your chest as you faced the monstrous curse before you. Sukuna's eyes bore into yours with an unsettling mix of possessiveness and desire. He took a step closer, and you could feel his cursed energy suffocating you. 
You clenched your fists, trying to muster the courage to stand up to him. "I'll never be yours, Sukuna," you retorted, your voice wavering and cracking but determined.  
Sukuna's grin widened, reveling in your resistance. "Oh, how delightful. The more you resist, the more enticing you become," he said, circling you like a predator eyeing its prey. With a chask of his fingers, the shikigami which held you vanished, and you fell on Sukuna’s arms. One of his clawed and tattooed hands reached out to grasp you by the chin, forcing you into eye-contact and squeezing your cheeks- bringing your lips forward. 
Your heart raced with fear, and Sukuna's grin only grew wider. His face inched closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "My love," he whispered, his voice laced with a possessive edge. “I will not let you escape me. You are mine, [Y/N], and I will gladly be yours " he murmured, pulling you closer to him. Anticipating his actions, you focused your remaining strength in struggling against him. Regardless, Sukuna leaned in and succeeded in sealing his lips against yours.  
Ryomen Sukuna kissed you with a passion you would never expect, or experience- a profound hunger and impatience that had been finally sated. A tongue, thick, slimy, and intrusive that relentlessly claimed a pair of lips it had been craving for so long, a desire long fulfilled. 
His onslaught was merciless; he wanted more, but when he looked at your flushed face and shut eyes, and attention to your weakening fists against his chest, he chuckled against your lips and broke the kiss. You gasped for air and breathed frantically, as Sukuna admired the trail of saliva that bridged his lips to yours. 
"You are mine, [Y/N], and there's no escape. I have been waiting for so long; I have been so patient. I think it’s time I deserved my reward." 
His lips peppered and trailed up your neck, climbing across your jaw, past your lips and near your ear. He whispered, hungrily and husky “I’m just so hungry for you.” 
A/n: I’ve literally been trying to write this a LONG time ago, and finally broke through! I hope you like a normal dickhead sukuna that is a hard simp for darling. One more sukuna fic that I’ve been saving to go!
3K notes · View notes
honourdoesart · 2 months
Text
Actions have consequences (Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN Civilian! Spouse! Reader) Part 1
Tumblr media
Summary: In a heated argument between the two of you, Simon says something he will regret for the rest of his life.
CW: Simon being an asshole, Swearing, yelling, emotional hurt, heavy angst, car accident, descriptive writing of injury, Character death (?)
Simon truly wanted to be a good husband.
But nothing ever seemed to go smoothly in his life. From his fucked-up childhood, his own demons, to his role as the infamous Ghost. Everything had to eventually come to bite him in the ass.
You, his loving spouse, had always tried to ease his pain in any way that you could. It would vary from cuddling on the couch, to taking him somewhere to lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by. However, he'd been away longer. The world beyond the walls of his cozy home made him more bitter, jaded, and cruel when he returned home.
It was today that he finally snapped.
It was a small disagreement at first, something that had already felt foreign to you. Then it escalated. The both of you kept just kept going back and forth, spitting venom at each other from a supply with an unknown source.
"All I have been trying to do this whole time is make sure that you don't have to deal with the pain alone. I'm only trying to fucking help, Simon!" You yell with hot tears streaming down your face, the grip on your shirt so tight it makes your knuckles turn white.
"Marrying you was a mistake." He snarls. The way your face twists into an expression of pure horror at his words makes him want to take it all back. A choked sob leaves your trembling body as you bolt into the direction of the door. You ignore the frantic calls of your husband as you snatch your jacket and the car keys in one swift motion, not even bothering to look back as you slam the door in his face.
You make your way to the red sports car, unlocking the vehicle before plopping yourself down in the driver's seat. There was no going back now. You start the car, glancing to the side at your shared home with Simon one last time before you hit the gas.
"Fuck…" You whimper while running a hand over your tear-stained face. Simon's words echo through your mind over and over again, the feeling of knives stabbing into your heart becoming more and more evident with each and every loop.
'Marrying you was a mistake.'
Your eyes dart to the side as you catch a flash of bright lights, the booming horn of a truck being the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Simon sat on the couch, fingers dinging into his hair, as the tears finally stopped. It had been an hour since you stormed out the door, the look of pure horror on your face branded into his mind like the scars that decorated his body. How could he have said that to you? You, the love of his life, were the only person who had let him feel human in the times he needed it most.
"I'm such a fucking idiot." He scolded himself while smacking the sides of his head. The sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table was the only thing that brought him out of his self-pity. He reached out to the obnoxious device that tried to get his attention, turning it around to find the word 'unknown' flashing readily on the screen.
Alarm bells began to go off in his brain as he pressed down to answer the call. A sweet elderly voice was greeting him from the other side. "Hello? Is this Mr. Riley? I am calling from the Clementine Churchill Hospital." The moment the word 'hospital' registered in Simon's brain, he immediately froze.
"Sir?" The voice on the other side called again, to which this time he did respond. "Yes, you are speaking to him. Why did you call me?" Deep down, he already knew why. "Your spouse has been in a car accident. Do you have the possibility to come over?"
Simon's heart stopped beating.
The time between him rushing to the hospital and finally reaching your room was all but a blur to him. He now sat at your bedside, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the damage he had caused. You looked so frail, all wrapped up in bandages, with all different types of tubes and machinery hooked up to you.
There was only one thought that crossed Simon's mind at this very moment. It was all his fault.
If he hadn't yelled at you, if he hadn't let you walk out of that door, you would've been cuddled up on the couch together. You would be smiling at him, those beautiful eyes he came to love looking up at him with pure joy when you told him about your day. But you weren't. You were lying here, fighting for your life. All because of him.
"Sweetheart? I don't know if you can hear me… but I-" Simon had to swallow as he felt his world crumble around him. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've never allowed myself to say something so fucking horrible to you." Hot tears streamed down his face as he reached out to caress your cheek. "Please… please don't go. I can't-I can't lose anyone else." Simon wept as he held onto your hand, his lips brushing against your bandaged knuckles.
"Please…" He kept begging. He was hoping that someone, anyone, would hear his plea not to take you away from him.
1K notes · View notes
evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
Note
slightly odd request but i’ve LOVED cold tonight and the others in the mini series and i was wondering if you could write something where reader gets into a disagreement with the caption wife of a politician snow HATES and reader does everything correct and is ‘well behaved’ for snow so when he gets her home she sort of breaks down in concern he’ll punish her and she’s worrying he’s mad at her but instead he just comforts her and tells her how good she is etc etc , maybe some praising smut if you fancy ? totally ok if it’s not your cup of tea !!!!
bitter cold |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt: as requested above :)
contains: alludes to dom/sub themes but not super heavy. possessive, dark snow. reader gets hurt (not by snow). slight smut at the end but not super graphic.
“Mrs. Snow,” The snarl in her tone, you could practically picture the baring teeth, lips pursed in a forced smile that resembled more of a grimace waiting behind you; Cypher Crane. 
You turned, a polite smile on your lips- years of training. These dinners weren’t new to you by any means. You had grown up attending numerous socialite events such as this, only now, you were the President’s wife. 
“Cypher,” You greeted the brunette woman with a clenched grin. “Lovely to see you.” 
“Yes,” She hissed, eyes trailing down your figure, over your outfit with a flare of her nose in disapproval. “I’m sure it is.” 
You winced, sucking in a breath. And so it begins, you thought. Cypher was your age, you’d grown up going to school together, school yard friends even, at one point. Until you married Coriolanus. Since the death of her elder sister, Arachne, the entire Crane family had blamed Coriolanus. It was his idea that they go see the tributes, and therefore his fault she died. It never bothered Corio, he’d roll his eyes and wave it off, “The family is grieving. Let them blame me if it makes them feel better.” He’d scoff. Still, it upset you, their constant provoking. 
You cleared your throat lightly, scanning the room for Coriolanus on the other end, desperate to be away from Cypher, the tension already too much. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband needs me-” 
“-No, I need to have a word with you.” Cypher blocked your step easily, clutching her champagne flute. Your heart hammered, trying to stay calm, cool. 
“About?” You lifted a brow, tone lifting to stay light and casual- unbothered, hoping you would stay the same. 
“The games,” Her eyes narrowed, lips fixing in a tight line. 
Your heart dropped. Corio had made a number of changes to the games. Alongside Dr. Gaul, the two were working to gain more and more viewers. His first games, and he wanted them to be perfect. The changes had been announced to the sponsors council only a few days prior. You were sure that was why Cypher wanted to talk to you.
“Your husband,” Her words drenched in venomous disgust. “Made changes to the games.” You sucked in a breath as she took a step closer to you. “To the tributes.” 
Your eyes darted around. Where were your friends? Where was Corio? Tigris? Anyone to help you. 
“Yes, he has.” You nodded, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus thought it best that the tributes be welcomed and celebrated for their sacrifices-” 
“-I fucking know what he said.” Cypher snapped, her voice bouncing off the marble of the room, catching the attention of the guests around you- maybe the whole room. You were too scared to look, truthfully. Coriolanus’ icy, curious gaze had found yours, brows furrowed. 
“I was there when this ridiculous idea was presented, and quite frankly I’m surprised at you.” Cypher sneered, finger jabbing dangerously close towards your face. “Your own daily endorsing this-this monstrosity. Treating tributes as heroes? Funding new trains and tearing down the tribute zoo? Giving them this pedestal to parade around on?” 
“Darling,” Coriolanus’ tone was tight, it made your heart skip. You looked at him, eyes rounded in fear, pinned against the wall. Cypher close to you, Coriolanus behind her. “Is everything alright?” You knew he was upset about the commotion, the improperness of it. 
Your words jumbled in your mouth, fumbling over a calm, collected response. Cypher never turned, never moved, kept her furious gaze on you. “You know my sister was killed by one of those tributes?” Cypher sneered. 
The room stilled, Coriolanus’ eyes falling to you. You weren’t sure what to do, uncomfortable and a little frightened. “You do know it, and now you want to reward them? Reward the rebellion? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you?” 
“No.” You shook your head. “No, never, I- we would never-” 
“-Liar!” Cypher roared, lunging at you. She shoved you against the wall, your head smacking the heavy marble, wincing through clenched vision, waiting for the strike. 
Instead, Coriolanus had her, arms wrenched around her shoulders, shoving her with such force to the ground before the Peacekeepers drug her away. “You killed my sister! You did, Snow! And now you’re rewarding the ones who killed her! Her blood is on your hands, you rebels!” 
“Move,” Corio shoved the Avoxes out of the way, eyes scanning over your features furiously. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He whispered, jaw clenched in fear, maybe rage. 
“I-I’m alright.” You took a shaky breath, reaching to the back of your head, rubbing the forming knot. Corio’s grip tightened around you.
“Take her to my lab.” Gaul commanded the guards, bright eye wandering wickedly Coriolanus’ way. He nodded, lips pursed furiously, one arm around you. “Clear everyone out.” He commanded with a sharp jerk of his head. 
“Corio, I-I’m fine.” Your breath shuddered, gripping his arm to steady yourself. “Everyone doesn’t have to leave-” 
“-I’m taking you to be examined.” Coriolanus’ jaw was tight, pulling you down the Capitol’s steps with a fury. 
“I don’t need that, darling, I promise. I-I’m alright.” Your heart beat furiously. You had ruined his event. You knew how important this was, and you let it get out of hand. Now, Corio was furious, and why wouldn’t he be? 
“You need to be examined.” Coriolanus’ tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Instead, his hand wrapped tighter around your bicep, hauling you to the private wing of the Capitol’s mansion- your shared wing. 
You didn’t fight, sure if you opened your mouth, you might be sick. Instead you sat obediently, letting the doctor examine you, avoiding Coriolanus’ intense, watchful gaze on you. Your fate was sealed, you knew it. Knew that he was upset with you- that he’d punish you for such a display.
The doctor checked you, wrote it off as a mild concussion with orders to not sleep. Coriolanus’ response of “I will ensure of it,” in such a cutting, firm tone, made you shiver. 
The room was eerily still when the doctor left, just you and Coriolanus residing in your bedroom, a thick tension in the air. 
“How are you feeling?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sharper than normal, though his brows were furrowed with something softer. Concern, perhaps? 
“I-I’m ok, Corio.” You swallowed your nerves, clutching the duvet of the bed. “Just an ache.” 
“How bad of an ache? You didn’t tell the doctor this.” Corio huffed, standing quickly, crossing the bedroom with a fury. 
“Corio, don’t. I’m fine.” You shook your head, moving off the edge after him.
 Coriolanus turned around, frowning at you. “You’re not supposed to be up.” He huffed, harsher than he meant to. “Sit down.” 
You flinched, scurrying back obediently. “I’m sorry. I-I just, I’m fine. I promise. I’m ok.” You stuttered, stomach dropping and twisting with fear. 
Corio paused, watching you with careful eyes. He’d written off your skittish behavior as fear from the situation, fear from being hurt. Now, he watched you cower before him, eyes peering at him the way those he executed did, trembling with pure horror. 
An unpleasant heaviness settled in his chest, sinking to his stomach. “My love,” Corio frowned, stepping towards you. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m ok, Corio, I promise. I-I’m just-just…” You looked at him, head turned down, curled into yourself. 
Coriolanus knelt in front of you, between your legs, taking your face into his hands gently, stomach lurching at the way you tensed. “What’s the matter?” He whispered, blue eyes scanning your face for a sign, any indication as to why you were so fearful. 
You hesitated, lip rolling between your teeth. You wanted to stay silent, be obedient and not further him any more. His gentle touches were lulling you, coaxing your own anxieties out of you. 
“Corio, I swear, I-I did not mean for that conversation to get out of hand as it did.” Your eyes met his gaze hesitantly. “I tried to excuse myself. I tried to de-escalate it, and-and move away, but she was so… determined.” 
Coriolanus waited, blinking, still in his own confusion. Your hands twisted in your own clammy grip. “I didn’t mean to ruin your event. I-I was just trying to be polite and-and it got out of hand-” 
“-I know that.” Coriolanus tilted his head gently. “Darling, this isn’t your fault.” 
“She approached me, and-and I should have walked away or-or called you over-” 
“-You did what you should have done.” Coriolanus said firmly, lips pressing together. “I need to know who is with me and who is against me. There are far too many rebels, unscared and ready to strike. Clearly, the Crane family is one and will be dealt with.” You shuddered at the sneer in his tone, the venomous threat ominous of what was to come for the Crane family, what Cypher was already experiencing in Gaul’s lab. 
“I wish that would have been done without her laying a hand on you,” Corio grit, anger flashing through those dazzling, blue eyes that had you swooning when their gaze met yours. “But, I can assure that will not be possible for her to do. Not for much longer.” 
Your grip tightened this time, clutching his hand fiercely, like a lifeline. “You’re not angry with me?” 
“I could never be.” Coriolanus shook his head. “You defended me, I heard you- others heard you.” His lips curled in a soft smile. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” 
You beamed under his praise, relaxing into his touch. Corio’s fingers brushed over your knuckles carefully. “Are you feeling ok?” He asked, softer now. A touch of… worry in his tone? 
“Yes,” You nodded, pressing your forehead to his, your noses touching. “It’s just an ache.” 
Coriolanus’ hand tightened in yours. “I should have her whole fucking bloodline removed for that. For putting her hands on you.” 
“Don’t.” You whispered, shaking your head gently. “She’s upset. She lost her sister.” 
“She’ll be losing more than that tonight, my darling, rest assured.” Corio hissed, that cloudy darkness seeping back into his gaze. “I will make sure of it.” 
You didn’t fight him, didn’t try to sway him. You didn’t want to upset him further, there was nothing that could change Cypher’s fate anyways. 
Instead, you let him dote on you. You let Corio’s fingers brush through your hair, parting your scalp, running lightly over the small knot there. His lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss to the sore area, before replacing it with ice. He even held the ice pack in place when your arm got tired, like a true, doting husband. 
Your eyes would droop, a soft pat to your leg waking you, a stern stare that had you blushing bashfully, thighs pressing together. 
“You have to stay awake, my love.” Corio reminded with a soft grumble, rubbing your scalp gently. 
“So keep me awake.” You purred, pressing up on his chest lightly, body between his legs. Corio grinned, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you into him, lips hungrily devouring yours. He moved you gently into the goose feather pillows, lips dragging down your cheek, jaw, biting at your neck. He was so sweet to you, fucking you how you liked- on your stomach, his body folded on top of yours, hands intertwined, hot breath grunting and moaning into your ear.
2K notes · View notes
fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
For Science
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).
You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.
“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.
“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”
Your ego soared.
“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”
It immediately plummeted.
“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”
She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”
You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”
Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.
“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.
“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”
“What? I didn’t come up with this!”
It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.
“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”
“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”
Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”
“Ask Miguel what?”
You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.
“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”
Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.
He frowned.
“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”
The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.
He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”
“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.
You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.
“Anything major must be reported to me.”
Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”
Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”
She took a dramatic bow and vanished.
He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.
How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.
“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.
He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.
Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.
“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”
“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”
You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”
His head turned to you.
“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”
You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”
A long pause stretched out.
“Then why didn’t you?”
In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…
“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”
Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”
“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”
You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”
In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.
“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.
“I can ask anything?”
“Yes.”
“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”
It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.
He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”
“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.
Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”
Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.
“Ah, so it’s not true.”
“Probably not.”
That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”
You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.
In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.
“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Science, remember?”
It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.
He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.
“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.
But Miguel remained unfazed.
“No.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.
He didn’t budge.
“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.
Nothing.
“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”
Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Is that a yes?”
“No.”
“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”
His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”
Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.
“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”
He only glared at your babbling self.
“Are you… offering?”
Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”
You panicked. “What? Now?”
“For science, right?”
Point taken.
You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”
“Do you want me to?”
You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”
“Then I won’t.”
Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.
His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”
And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.
“Ouch!”
Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.
“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.
You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.
“No…”
He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”
You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.
“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.
“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.
Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.
He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”
Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.
“Tilt your head.”
You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.
“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.
Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.
But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.
Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first — no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.
Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.
“Miguel… this… this…”
Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.
The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.
“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”
You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.
“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.
Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.
You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”
“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”
“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.
“Look at me.”
Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.
“Think you can do this?”
You blinked.
“I know you can take more.”
Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.
Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.
The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.
Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.
Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.
It hurt.
It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.
Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.
Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.
Your eyes landed on his crotch.
He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.
“You okay?”
You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.
“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.
Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”
“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”
Tumblr media
Masterlist
6K notes · View notes
4izawas · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
╰─▸ ❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 ). ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀.
Tumblr media
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: His eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ryomen sukuna/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 3.49k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: concubine reader, demon king sukuna, sacrificial lamb x vicious monster trope, fem reader, manipulative reader, canon-typical violence, background character death, reader got a death grip on sukuna w the pussy ngl, breeding kink, fingering, sukuna has two cocks bc duh?, throne sex, cowgirl, no condoms, double penetration, accidental voyeurism, minor exhibitionism, creampies, biting, kissing, pregnancy mentions, murder, blood, gore, didn’t think i’d have to say this verbatim ( but after wasted summer ig i must ) but reader isn’t a good person.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: he is so so mean and yet … here i am wanting his balls in my mouth 😔✊
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
Tumblr media
The stone flooring is cold against your bare feet, icy and sharp in ways that you used to be able to say you were unused to — but after a handful of years as your lord’s most desired concubine, you’d grown more than used to the endless chill of stone against your soles. 
Only a few short years ago you’d been sent into the mountains to the dusky temple of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, a toy for him to fuck then eventually rip apart as soon as he grew bored of you. Bound by the wrists with ropes that had scarred, you were dragged up the mountainside and thrown upon a vast stone table, bound yet again with your hands tugged over your head and your legs spread to opposing corners. Your inner thighs had each been granted one deep slash so blood would begin to flow, and then you had been abandoned there. Alone and in tears, night had fallen faster than you’d been found, and you’d almost felt frozen and delirious when the first shadows of a monstrous figure had caught your eyes. 
He had been a terrifying monster, sporting a vast mouth on his abdomen, two sets of eyes, four arms, and two pairs of legs all connected to a towering frame — all things normally singular about the human form had been doubled, and the owner of such a body had slunk over to you all while salivating. At first you’d feared he’d molest you, then you feared being devoured — but he’d mocked you cruelly and cut you loose before dragging you along behind him by the rope binding your wrists with your slit thighs screaming, your journey ending with him casting you at a half dozen women you later learned to be his concubines, and you’d not left his great stone temple in the mountains ever since. On the contrary, your life had become much easier — you led a life of luxury nestled comfortably on your knees atop a plush pillow next to your lord’s hip, you followed wherever he led you to go, and you warmed his bed and his cock whenever he so chose — which was often. 
Today was one such day, and you desired nothing more than to ready yourself to see the man who clung to you as if he were starved and you were a magicked feast. 
“Off to see the King again?” one of the other concubines, Ino, asks snidely as you loosely drape chains of delicate gold over your skin, and you sigh. Ino always started fights whenever she saw the chance, and you were more than tired of it. Still, a verbal spar was nothing for the King to sneeze at, so he wouldn’t make any attempts to stop it; some days he even found the arguments amusing. 
“Must I really answer your question?” You ask tiredly. “He has called for me—“
“As he does every day,” another concubine, Shouko, snaps. “He never calls upon us anymore, not like you.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” you snap back, and in response the bane of your existence stomps forward, smelling of the honeysuckle and melons that grew along the mountainside where you all resided. 
“Maybe if you’d not come here and thrown yourself at him like a common whore, we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Inko, Ino’s elder sister, snarls aggressively. Her eyes are dark and stormy, and her voice low and angry like a startled rattlesnake. “We all had a proper system before you came and ruined everything — but that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Traipsing in here practically naked from your first day and swallowing his cock down like it was what you were born for, then even daring to take away my night as well as Komori’s the following day.” Komori was another concubine, one nearly as bitter as Inko; she, however, chose to ruin what few of your belongings she could rather than spar with you verbally.
It was always the same with them — always angry that your lord doted on you more than the others, that he cooed at you so fondly while growls were occasionally sent their way ( growls you’d never received ), and that jewels and silks were lain reverently across your soft skin as rewards for earning his affections. “Maybe he likes me better for a reason, Inko,” you say coldly, standing your ground. “Maybe he isn’t calling upon you anymore because he’s realized how much of a surly bully you are — or maybe he’s grown tired of your once overused loose cunt.”
The sound of a  loud, harsh slap echoes through the room, followed immediately by startled gasps of shock and your face stinging painfully; as much as you all threw poisoned words through the air like arrows were loosed from an archer’s bow, none of you had ever dared lay a hand on one another. 
Your face burns, both from the pain from the hard slap and from a barely repressed anger, as you turn back from where it had been forcibly swung to the side at Inko’s strike to glare at her. 
“You’ll start being a lot happier with your life when you stop basing it around both mine and a man’s,” you hiss before exiting the makeup room and navigating your way through the halls of Lord Sukuna’s temple before finally entering the throne room. He was listening to a few servants of his describe the look of the lands outside the temple, and what they believed the upcoming winter would offer them, but he brushed them away upon realizing you’d entered. 
“Oh, my sweet treasure,” he purred warmly. “Come closer so I can bask in your beauty as I do every day.”
Obedient as always, you do just that, drifting closer before kneeling before him in acknowledgement of his power. Before you do so, you see the look in his eyes, and it sends a shot of fire to your stomach that you know all too well; his eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
“My lord Ryomen,” you murmur in a voice as thick and sweet as honey while just as deceptive as it would be when a part of a trap for flies. He stands, striding down the short set of stairs that led to his throne for you as he did for no other, and in a gruff voice commands you to stand at your full height. You do as told like always, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch sight of your aching face, which was no doubt starting to bruise.  
He gently grabs you by the jaw, careful that his claws do not prick your soft skin as he tilts your head to reveal your cheek to him. “Your beautiful face…” King Sukuna rumbles lowly, his voice an angered growl as he gently tips you by his grip on your jaw to look at the bruising handprint marring your face, and his eyes are as stormy as the sky outside of the temple as thunder booms amongst the clouds. “Who dared do this to you?”
“Inko,” you murmur quietly, then whine, “She called me a common whore and said I ruin everything. It hurt my feelings.”
“She will be punished,” he promises, cupping your face and kissing your forehead fondly in a show of slight sweetness that you knew he showed no other and strove to keep hidden at all times. Typically his words would comfort you, but not today. You were tired of Inko’s behavior, and a week locked alone in a room with nothing but bread and milk was no longer fitting in your eyes. 
You wanted her dead.  
“Fill me with your seed, my Lord,” you beg sweetly, and he groans while grabbing you borderline painfully tight and grinds your crotches together as you stand together in the throne room, allowing you to feel him at half-hardness. “I want to carry your spawn for you, just like you always say.” It was true; Demon King Ryomen Sukuna was a weak man when it came to his almost wicked thoughts of breeding one of his women’s fertile cunts, but he’d not yet filled any of his concubines’ wombs with life. That privilege, you knew, was to be yours alone — and with how desperately you knew he wanted it, you’d get your prize of Inko’s head on a golden plate and he would get his of the instinctual want for an heir before the week was up. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, standing as high on your tiptoes as you can to do so, and as usual he dips down so you can mouth sweetly at his skin, feeling one pair of arms rest at your hips while the other gently cup your face. “Let me ride you on your throne, my king,” you whisper sweetly, pulling your face from his hold and closing your teeth around one of his earlobes, tugging lightly. You both feel and hear the aroused growl leave his throat, and you move to nip at the base of his throat before asking again. “Please, beloved one?” you beg lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he basks in the attention from your lips and your now wandering hands, which bury themselves in his hair in just the way he likes. “I want you to fill me in the way that only you will ever be able to. I desire the honor of bringing you life.”
You’re being dragged to his throne before you know it, your words plenty enough to tip him over any and all edges he had when it came to you, and he’s taking a seat and tugging you up onto his lap with a practiced ease that you both remembered all too well. He grinds his cock up into the crux of your thighs, his already hard length pressing against the place you were always bare for him beneath your skirts so perfectly. It only takes a moment for him to loose his cock from his robes, and even less time for him to press two of the fingers on one of his other three hands into your wet hole, the appendages curling just so inside so as to toy with you and prepare you for the vast stretch of one ( or even both ) of his cocks. 
“F-Fuck — M’Lord, there-!” You whimper shakily, hips bucking into his touch as he presses one callused thumb to your clit and begins drawing harsh circles on it in time with each curl of his fingers. 
“I know, sweet treasure, I know,” He murmurs softly. “I’ll take care of you — gotta get ya’ all nice and sloppy for me, dear one.”
“No more!” You whine impatiently. “Want you in me!”
His eyes are already dark, but they seem to darken even further at your senseless pleading. “As my foolish girl begs,” he says in mock-sweetness, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt with a wet shlk! and beginning to use what you’d left on them to wet his cock rather than lick them clean like usual. Your heart ba-bump!s in your chest as a nervous shiver courses through you, but you don’t back down — you’d take his cocks and the resulting child of this coupling as well. 
“Oh gods — yes, please-!” you whimper, feeling the way he drags his cock against your slickened slit, and he chuckles lightly before pressing the fat head in. A stuttery gasp falls from your lips as your head does likewise to his shoulders, and you cling to him desperately as you begin to sink down onto him entirely. In what feels like forever ( but is really only a couple short seconds ) he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and you both still for a moment to soak in the feeling of both filling and being full — and the the Demon King decides the time to adjust is up, and begins fucking up into you. 
You bounce on his lap, moaning brazenly like a woman in a whorehouse, and your nails dig into his skin as he uses you like a toy for his own pleasure. Each drag of his thick cock inside you alights a fire in your belly as it always does, and you keen from your place on his lap as all four of his arms rove your body — two palming at your tits, one rubbing cruel circles on your swollen clit, and the third thrown around your waist. 
“Fuck… Fuck…” he moans, biting at your neck, and you whine needily while grinding down on him, trying your hardest to tempt him into forcing his second cock inside. Unfortunately, you doubted he would, considering he was always so cautious not to break his favorite toy ( you weren’t a fool, there was no love in his heart — there remained no heartstrings for you to tug on, only his sensitive cock. ), but seemingly today was an exception as a hand on one of your tits releases it just so he can grab his second length and press it against your sopping wet hole. The thick ring of cream around the base of the cock he’d already filled you with smears across his second as he urges the tip inside, a short scream falling from your lips as it pops in after a long moment of slightly-pained pressure. 
You’re overfull, tears are rolling down your cheeks, but Lord Sukuna just licks them up and begins using your body like the hole to fuck it is, bluncing you brutally on both of his cocks all while still seated on his massive throne. Behind you, you hear the wide doors to the throne room open, but it isn’t until a scandalized cry fills the room that you turn to look while your lord master continues fucking you without a care in the world for the eyes watching. 
“My Lord-? Oh gods, my apologies! I beg your forgiveness, my king!” The hand that had wandered in wails, falling to his knees in subservience at the realization that he’s just walked in on his lord taking his most favorite concubine in the throne room. The sight of both of his king’s cocks sinking so deeply into your glistening cunt had his own single cock twitching beneath his robes, but there was no way in hell he would ever dare to act on such a thing; the last time someone other than the king himself had touched a concubine with their unworthy hands, both had been torn apart in the King’s rage and fed to the carrion birds. 
“Fuck, you’re nothing but my sweet whore, aren’t you?” Sukuna groans deeply, ignoring the man entirely as you refocus entirely on him and the feelings he was forcing upon you. 
“Y-Yes, my king,” you moan shakily, your eyelashes fluttering as an ever-present knot starts to grow tighter in your lower belly alongside the overfull feeling, fueled by a heat that always burns in his presence.
“Cum on my cocks,” Sukuna orders through a moan. “Give it to me, I command you — I want to feel your cunt pulse around me as you come undone.” As he speaks he speeds up the circles he was drawing on your clit, and within moments you’re falling apart around him, crying out in ecstasy as he lets out a demonic roar and oresses himself as deeply inside as he can before emptying his balls. Faintly you register his eyes rolling back as he cums, but you’re too wrapped up in him to truly give a damn about any of it. 
After a few moments he begins to tug you off of his lengths, the muscles in your body just as instinctually unwilling to give them and their stretch up as you are as a natural resistance shows before being overtaken by you clenching down on him. “No,” you whimper, holding him tight. “Mine.”
“Y’gotta let me go, my precious jewel,” he rumbles quietly, and the urge to actually cry fills you and you just cling tighter. 
“No,” you say again, a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes. “Don’t wanna.”
A low groan falls from his lips, but he stops fighting you. You barely react as he lifts you, his inhuman strength making most any show of strength possible ( and making lifting you something easily scoffed at ), and you do likewise as he carries you off to his private chambers. A questioning noise falls from your half-chapped lips as he closes the massive open door of the two closed behind him, and he just shushes you before pulling the silk sheets and thick blankets and furs back before placing you on them. He’s straddling you, still stuck due to your clinging, and it takes a brief moment of wrestling with you before he manages to finally pull out. 
A borderline sickly wet noise fills both his and your ears as his cocks are drawn from your needy cunt, and the rush of thick demon cum that follows makes you whine pathetically. He just clicks his tongue at you and tugs on a rope made of golden chord that would ring a bell in one of the servant’s halls and summoned one such person, ordering them to ready your nightly meal ( despite the sun still being up ) so you could eat then sleep at your own leisure. Once the trembling man is gone, he joins you in bed. 
“I hope you meant your urging for me to grant you a child,” he purrs, biting at your shoulder while you press close to him. He pulls away, sitting up on the side of the bed, “Because there’s no going back now — you will carry my seed in your belly until you birth me a child.”
None of this matters to you. You had always planned to birth his first child, had always known that it was what your fate held for you — this moment was not for talk of a baby, no. You wanted your prize. 
“My dearest lord,” you sniffle needily, sliding from the bed on shaky legs and sinking to your knees between his legs, then propping yourself up over your crossed arms on them with a pout downturning your lips. A quickly growing puddle of his leaking cum begins to drip on the floor between your legs. “Please kill Inko — she’s so very mean to me, and all the other concubines are too because she’s been here so long.” Your bottom lip trembles as fresh tears start, and he sighs. 
“But her cunt is so sweet, dear one,” he murmurs, and you whimper and hide your face in one thick, muscled thigh. 
“You said she was loose. Besides, she hit me — I carry your spawn inside of me, and she hit me.” You didn’t have even his cum in you then, much less a conceived child — but you knew how to play the Demon King’s instincts, and the slight angered huff through his nostrils betray the rage simmering beneath his skin. All it would take was the tiniest push further. “It was the face this time, the face you own, but what if she pushes me down the stairs next? I could lose my life.”
Growling fills the air, and you know you've done it. 
“Rest here,” he says quietly, his voice shaking with rage, “Servants will be here to attend to you in a few minutes.”
He helps you up with one hand, half-tossing you onto the cushy bed, then begins making his way out of his private rooms. “Where are you going?” you call innocently, pushing a frightened tremor into your voice. “My lord Ryomen, please don’t leave me — I’m always so frightened without you!”
He stops in the middle of the room; you can see him shaking with anger. “I have business to attend to,” he says through gritted teeth. 
Your eyes glitter. “Come back to me soon, beloved one — I miss you desperately every moment you are away.” 
A grunt is your only response, and he exits the room as servants wheel in your dinner. You curl up prettily in his massive nest of a bed, and you peruse the options he’d granted you eagerly. When he was done, he’d use the excess rage to fuck you again — you’d need to quell what appetite you have now and then some if you wanted enough energy to survive. 
In the distance, furious roaring mixes with shrill, fearful screaming, and you delicately tug apart the roast duck you’d been served as the sounds of more concubines than just Inko being killed fills the temple. Servants cower, and the younger cupbearers whimper, but you just smile softly and hold out your emptied cup. 
“I would like more pear juice, please.”
Tumblr media
𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
mikanotes · 5 months
Text
up close & personal
hyunsu ? x gn!reader
genre: what. mutual pining?
warnings: sweet home 2 spoilers, mentions of blood, injuries. hyunsu himself is a warning lowkey if u watched the last ep u probably get it… that’s all!
synopsis: You know Hyunsu so well. One year apart couldn’t possibly change that. Except if Hyunsu isn’t alone anymore.
authors note: realized at the end of this fic that i cld compare hyunsu’s current situation to venom like a little bit and that just makes everything so much easier somehow. anyways i don’t really like this but i needed to post smt for him after s2 so!
Tumblr media
One year ago, you and Cha Hyunsu would’ve been sitting near the entrance of Green Home apartments, and he would be listening to you talk. One year ago, you would’ve firmly believed that by now, the world would’ve been restored to some kind of peace. It had, in a way, but certainly not in the one your past self would have hoped for. And certainly not the one Hyunsu would’ve wanted for the two of you.
Nevertheless, you remained grateful through everything— As much as you could manage. The shelter was as organized as possible and conflict was a surprisingly rare occurence. Things were alright. As long as you didn’t give time for the grief and terror to catch up to you.
But things couldn’t be calm forever. Especially not in the current state of your world.
When Eunyu disappeared with that man from the military, it only took a day before you grew restless enough to depart from the stadium. After all, Eunyu was the closest thing to a friend you had here, at this point. It only felt right to try and find her. And you did, surprisingly, along with a few familiar faces and an unknown one.
You didn’t expect for the evening you found your friend again to be the very same you would see the person you had considered closest to you at Green Home for the first time in… Over a year.
“Finally asleep.” you sighed quietly, watching Eunyu get the rest her body had probably been begging for. It was difficult to convince her you would stand watch and wait for your friend to wake up in her stead, but her exhaustion made her stop arguing eventually.
You turned towards the room he was in.
Cha Hyunsu.
You crossed your arms and sighed. One year without a single trace of him anywhere. And now he… Just reappears? You wanted to be surprised, but part of you really wasn’t. You were angry, just a little— Spending all this time telling yourself he was gone, only for him to come back as if nothing happened felt like a slap to the face. Still, you couldn’t blame him. Yet. You had no idea what happened to him during that time span.
You felt relieved, if anything.
After some hesitation, you walked over to the glass door. Your hand settled on the handle, pushing it open, before your eyes widened. Hyunsu was sitting on the hospital bed, stretching his neck quietly, not at all perturbed by anything. Hell, he even seemed peaceful.
More peaceful than you’d ever seen him.
You stepped inside quietly and let the door close behind you. Hyunsu continued to move his head, slowly, as if trying to relax, and didn’t acknowledge your presence. His shoulder was bloodstained, still, and his hoodie had cuts here and there. Messy as he appeared, this was your friend from Green Home, there was no denying it. You hadn’t even dared hope he could still be alive, after all this time. You couldn’t give your heart such a high possibility of suffering if he turned out to be gone.
And now he was here. So calm.
He opened his eyes with a soft sigh, before turning his gaze to you. “Finally decided to talk to me?” he asked. His tone was different. Too different. This did not feel like the kind of change that happened in a year. He smiled a little at your silence, tilting his head curiously. “No? Do you need more time? That would be too bad.”
He hopped off the bed with a huff and slowly walked over to you. The closer he got, the clearer it became that his eye color was different. Long gone was the blank, dark brown gaze that looked back at you when you two would talk— Replaced by a vibrant sky blue. A stark contrast from what you were used to, as was everything else about him, apparently. Be it his tone or his mannerisms, it all felt deeply wrong, like it wasn’t him at all. You furrowed your eyebrows but stood still, letting him walk to the very edge of your personal space.
“I’ve been waiting to see you for such a long while.”
“Huh?”
Hyunsu’s eyes widened a little before he grinned. This wasn’t … Him. Not exactly, at least. Not the one you talked to so much. But special-cases, or MH, essentially coexisted in one body. The monster forms around a person’s strongest desire, or whatever it was that scientist at the shelter said.
So perhaps, all the times you and Hyunsu had talked in the past had also been conversations that this side of him had been listening to.
A bit scary. You couldn’t really focus on that, though. You took a deep breath and looked at him.
“Is he well?”
He clicked his tongue, expression growing sour. “He’s fine. Let him get some rest. He’s tired.”
You nodded softly, gaze averting. That sounded fine enough to you. He was right, too, earlier— You had been avoiding talking to him since you met again. With the excuse of focusing on Yikyung and scavenging through the hospital, you had plenty of reasons to act as if you weren’t seeing the person you cared the most for after a whole entire year of thinking he was dead.
But you did feel his gaze on you the whole time. It was heavy, and remorseful. You’d planned to talk to him— In fact, that’s why you decided to come over to the room he was in. You hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, however. Seems like you couldn’t talk to your friend, yet.
“It’s nice to know you care, though.” he hummed, gaze never leaving your face. “He thinks about you so much, too.”
You looked back up at him. If this was the so-called monster part of Hyunsu, then what was his deal? A lot of questions about this situation flooded your head. “What are you playing at?”
He chuckled softly, before backing up just enough to hold up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Nothing as evil as you probably think.” he said, voice steady. “I just wanted us to talk. Just us.”
“Huh.”
“You see, your Hyunsu has an interest in you.” he said, tilting his head slowly. It felt as if he was analyzing you. It was a bit unsettling, but you didn’t bother breaking eye contact this time. “But I do, too. I’d say maybe… Even more than him?” his grin widened at his own words.
“I find it hard to believe you care about people.”
“And yet.” he scoffed, expression dropping to a blank one, seemingly annoyed. He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. “We decided to work together. Couldn’t have him die on me, it wouldn’t be nice for anyone involved.”
You decided this Hyunsu seemed to mean it when he said they made a deal, just about as much as when he said he had an interest in you. So placing your trust in his bloodied hands for the time being, you tried to be less on guard. He wouldn’t kill you, or most importantly, Hyunsu. That was enough for now.
“Okay.” you sighed, crossing your arms. “So you want to talk?”
He smiled a little. “Yes.” he stated, before taking a step towards you. Only this time, he didn’t bother keeping a safe distance. His face was a touch too close to yours. “I’ve wanted to for a while.”
“You…” you paused for a moment, thinking. “Do you usually go around talking to people while getting so close to them?”
“I don’t go around talking to people.” he mocked your tone before scoffing, a grin pulling at his lips. He brought a hand up to your face, holding your cheek firmly. His focus turned to his hand, eyes narrowing in its direction. You felt his fingers loosen a little, as if he was trying to control how tightly he was holding you.
Which he was. Now it felt gentle. Almost unfitting. Not only that but the Hyunsu you knew was never this comfortable with anything close to physical affection. It felt so out of place.
“Does it bother you?” he whispered, eyes flitting over to meet yours again. He moved in closer, just enough for your noses to touch. He seemed to be having fun switching between looking at your eyes and at your lips. “Am I too close?”
Before you could think of a way to answer, you froze. The unfamiliar color in Hyunsu’s eyes dissipated, the cocky expression you were almost beginning to get used to replaced by a soft, almost startled one. His voice, much quieter now, whispered your name. Your eyes widened and you sighed in something akin to relief.
“Hyunsu.” you breathed out. The latter looked at you with a stunned look, struggling to find anything to say for a while. He looked into your eyes like he was making sure you were okay— Making sure you were really alive. His thumb moved back and forth softly over the skin of your cheek, his gaze scanning you in an almost panicked manner. He sighed shakily, before he brought your face into his shoulder. He seemed to be almost trembling.
“I’m sorry.” he exhaled, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders hesitantly. Still terrible at hugging. You’d missed those awkward displays of affection so much. “I… I’m sorry, it’s been… A very long time.”
“God, you’re so cruel, Cha Hyunsu.”
He tilted his head down into your neck. Now you felt his tears on your skin. He really hasn’t changed, you thought. It was obvious when he came running for help when Yikyung was badly injured, when he did everything to help her and went all the way to look for that kid— Cha Hyunsu hadn’t changed.
“I’m—”
“Quit apologizing.” you huffed, holding him tightly. “I missed you, too.”
Hyunsu sighed quietly, tightening his hold on you a little. He was relieved to finally have you with him again, but he couldn’t shake off his worries.
“You talked to… Him? Right?”
“I did.” you said, pulling away enough to look at him. The concern on his features was undeniable. “And it went fine. It’s okay.”
Hyunsu’s frown deepened. “I don’t know if it’s alright. Me staying… So close to you.”
“Don’t even think about disappearing on me again.” you warned, eyes widening. “I don’t care about any reason you give me— Don’t leave again.”
The boy sighed, averting his gaze for a moment, before slowly bringing it back to you.
“I won’t.” he assured, “I won’t leave you again.”
He closed his eyes and pulled you into another hug. He had to believe his existence on its own wouldn’t cause more problems for you to deal with. He had to trust that even if it did, you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. He knew you did. You always meant it.
He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the glass door just a bit further away. Seeing you in his arms should have been reassuring. But the blue hue of one of his eyes and the nagging voice in his head seemed to be laughing at his naivety. He pressed his eyes shut again and buried his face in your shoulder.
This is our priority, now. (I know.) No one else comes first. (I know.) Don’t let them get hurt.
I won’t.
2K notes · View notes
vlrspace · 4 months
Text
promise me, you belong to me
okkotsu yuuta x reader
contains. nsfw/mdni!!, implied yandere! yuuta, possessive! yuuta, unhealthy-ish relationship, petnames (angel, baby), yuuta and reader are in their fourth year, all characters are 18+, no actual smut but it’s heavily suggestive, this is short
notes. yandere! yuuta keeps taking over my mind, help 🫠
Tumblr media
“did you have fun today with megumi?”
the question makes you drop your pen onto the table, spinning yourself towards yuuta with wide eyes. your boyfriend sits on the edge of your bed, legs spread as he leans back on his hands, dark blue eyes looking at you with adoration.
“jesus, when did you come in?” you’re a little startled as you ask the black haired male, a hand coming up to your chest, feeling your heart beating rapidly.
yuuta only chuckles before responding with a cheerful smile, though his eyes are far from that. “what, am i not allowed to see my girlfriend?” his tone is gentle, but there’s a slight layer of tension laced within his words.
“that’s not what i meant, you know that” you shake your head, the bottom of your glossy lips are jutting out a bit and your brows furrowing. your boyfriend’s smile disappears at your facial expression and you turn back to your table with a sigh, switching off the lamp near you before you slowly walk towards him.
you come to a stand between his spread legs, placing both hands on his shoulders, rubbing it tenderly while he gazes up at you. yuuta’s hands instinctively find their place on the back of your thighs, just below your ass cheeks and a grin stretches across his face. those blue eyes of his are unsettlingly darker than usual.
yet he still makes you feel safe, his touch on your bare skin is warm, fingers grazing your skin carefully, steadily making their way under your shorts. it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he grabbed a handful of your ass, but you couldn’t stop the breathy yelp leaving your lips. you’re glad you’re holding onto his shoulders, your knees are getting weaker as he looks at you so lovingly, in contrast to his harsh actions.
“you haven’t answered my question yet” yuuta reminds you lowly, eyes flickering with a sign of warning as his hands start rubbing your cheeks to soothe the ache he caused.
“we always train together and you always let me win. i wanted a little challenge to improve my skills” you answer quietly, fingers massaging his shoulders and you focus on the way his muscles tense under your hands. you can’t look at him any longer, not when he’s watching you like a hawk.
it’s better to not tell him that gojo asked you to pair up with someone else that wasn’t yuuta. gojo knows that yuuta’s abilities are excellent, he makes a good teacher, but yuuta wants to avoid you getting hurt and that won’t be handy during a fight where he’s not by your side.
you know that gojo is right, but you also knew that yuuta would get jealous and possessive of you the second he sees you, it happened before on many occasions.
you spent an afternoon with inumaki and itadori in the common room, while yuuta was away on a mission. he didn’t like seeing you sitting between the two boys, excitedly playing some game on the tv even if you were wearing his clothes. one of the hickeys he left on a visible spot on your neck took an awfully long while to fade.
you have to decline most missions with ino and nanami too because yuuta can take teenage boys hanging around you, but older men are a different level (not that he couldn’t beat them in a fight). yuuta made that clear by ruining you the night before your mission, leaving your muscles sore, throat dry and body covered in marks all over. it leads to you sleeping in (yuuta turns off your alarm) and you can barely function throughout the day, deemed useless to go on a mission.
“you can improve yourself with me too, i don’t see why you had to pair yourself up with megumi” yuuta speaks, words dripping with venom and you feel his hands leaving your ass and instead, he places them on your hips, thumbs slipping into the hem of your shorts. “look at me angel” it’s firm, the way he demands your attention on him and you oblige, not wanting to anger him.
yuuta’s gaze is predatory, it makes you bite your lips and you feel him slip your shorts down before pulling down onto his lap. one of his hands come up to your face, brushing his fingers against your skin and you instantly lean into his hold when he cups cheek. yuuta looks at you expectantly and you return his actions with both hands, leaning close to him.
“i’m sorry yuuta, i’ll choose you next time, every time” you whisper against his lips before pressing your lips together. “i’m only yours”your words are mashed between kisses, but yuuta gives you an approving hum, licking your bottom lip and you let him slip his tongue into your mouth eagerly.
yuuta’s hand move from your face to your neck, closing his fingers around your throat but he doesn’t squeeze it and continues to assault your mouth with his. you fist his black hair, pulling him closer to you and you moan into the kiss when you feel his other hand pinching your clit through your panties.
“you promise right, baby?” he mumbles against your lips, ducking his head lower to kiss, suck and bite the skin there. you already know you’ll be littered with love bites by tomorrow morning.
“yes, yes i promise yuu” you frantically nod and he leaves your neck and offers you a grin before laying you down on your bed. he kneels above you as he takes off his shirt and presses a quick peck on your lips. yuuta hovers over your panties, sucking your clit through the cloth, holding you down by your hips. it makes you trash and whine, lacing a hand with his.
“no one else gets to have your pussy, only me. fucking remember that” yuuta grumbles against the material, eyeing your reaction but ends up chuckling when you lift your hips up in a needy manner and he slides your underwear down.
yuuta knows he has nothing to worry about, you’re such an eager little thing, putty in his hands when he pushes the right buttons. but you’re also so delicate and beautiful, he knows that, sadly so does everyone else. yuuta fears someone might take you away from him because of that, yet when you’re so wanting and yearning for him to touch you where you need him the most, he remembers he has nothing to be afraid of. only yuuta knows how to please you and make you come undone just the way you like. it makes him love you so much more, you’ll always give yourself to him like this and let him do however he pleases.
why would you want anyone else, when he’s right here? you belong to him anyways.
Tumblr media
@/vlrspace, 2024
988 notes · View notes