#i understand. it was kidnapping and THEN niceness. i get it. i understand.

[lilislegacy]

The way haters just boil Annabeth's character to just insulting Percy and not seeing theres more to her really shows how much they dont get her. Honestly Percy would hate them for this...

thanks for the ask @emilia9622!

agreed completely. like if you want to dislike a character, go for it. but don’t lie to yourself. don’t base it all off of one thing or flaw and make it 100x bigger than it is.

for instance, i don’t like luke. but it’s for a multitude of reasons. he knowingly betrayed all his friends several times, fought a deadly war against them, and intentionally poisoned the camp. he was percy’s first friend at camp and was a mentor to him, but had no issues lying to him and deceiving him. he literally was fine with the idea of 12 year old little percy being dragged down to tartarus. he also let annabeth be kidnapped and forced to hold up the world. when he finally saw thalia alive, he fought her and tried to harm her. yes i know that there is very complex trauma and history that led to all his actions, and i really do feel so bad for him, but i can’t respect someone who betrays his close friends like that. no matter what. i could go on and on, and don’t get me started about him having romantic feelings for annabeth… UGH. but that said, i understand why people love his character. he’s complex and has a lot of really good history. he also has a wonderful, yet tragic, redemption at the end. he really deserved better. i don’t have love for him, but his character deserves love. i’m happy that there are people to love him so that i don’t have to, because i have personal reasons for not liking him. i think luke is an amazingly well written character and i think rick wrote him beautifully. the truth is, besides the singular part where he admitted he had feelings for annabeth, i wouldn’t change anything about him or his story. so personally, i don’t like him, but i think he’s a great character and objectively, i can see why people love him.

it’s okay to dislike a character. but don’t pick their biggest flaws, strip away all the good parts of the character, and fool yourself into believing that’s all they are. (and then continue to go on tumblr and scream about how toxic and terrible the character is 🙄)

this is what “people can’t handle complex characters” actually means. people often throw that phrase around. people say that about readers not liking jason all the time, but the truth is, people are fully entitled to not like jason. it doesn’t make sense to me, because i LOVE jason. he’s my cutie patootie. but the people who dislike him simply don’t like him. they don’t usually make him out to be someone he’s not, they just don’t like him for who he is. they often just don’t find him interesting enough to break down the more complex parts of his character. it breaks my heart, and i don’t understand, but that’s okay. they just don’t like him. there’s nothing else to it. most annabeth haters, however, make her out to be someone she’s not and then proceed to hate on that one self-generated version of her. it’s so toxic. THAT is not being able to handle a complex character

no, annabeth is not perfect. if she was, she would be unrealistic, and people would hate her for that too. yes, she has excessive pride. she tends to think herself above others, and yes that even includes percy at times. but you know what? she admitted to having that issue all the way back in book 2. she was literally 13 when she explained to percy what hubris is and how it’s her biggest downfall. she’s a self aware queen. she knows it’s an issue and she works hard to correct it in little ways and make sure the people around her, especially percy, know she values them and their opinions. anyone who read the heroes of olympus series unbiased and got to read her POV knows that annabeth holds percy in the highest regard. she respects the hell out of him. even though sometimes she says things that aren’t nice, she doesn’t truly feel that way and always corrects it in some way. she’s not selfish, she’s just tragically intelligent, and it naturally gives her a bit of a complex. it wouldn’t make sense if it didn’t.

and i love her for it. the fact that she has a real flaw that can affect relationships, but that she is self aware of and actively works on, makes her legit one of my favorite characters ever. she’s SO realistic.

but people take that one flaw and make it her whole character. they call her cold and harsh, when in reality she’s one of the most warm and sensitive people in the series. she takes care of her friends. she’s strong and she’s often the leader, but it’s because she’s so loving and kind all the time. she works hard and looks out for everyone. she makes friends fast for a reason. she’s a wonderful person. she’s so, so sweet, and it breaks my heart that people choose to take that away from her.

anyway, sorry i just word vomited so much. basically i agree 100%.

#sorry for the word vomit #whoops #pjo #annabeth chase #jason grace #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #answered #riordanverse

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

my ranking of the tig villains/most hated characters

i'm bored so i'm doing this. 1 is the character i hate most meaning 8 is the one i hate the least. i apologize if this sucks. its quite late for me as i'm writing this.

drake. ik most people would put eve or smth at the top of this list, but this dude is an abuser and a pedophile (he used to call avery jailbait which means "a person who is younger than the legal age of consent for sexual activity and usually appears older, with the implication that a person above the age of consent might find them sexually attractive" according to wikipedia). not only was he horrible to libby, but he also tried to kill avery. characters like him just give me the ick and the creeps and i just can't stand them.

eve. i think this is self-explanatory. eve is one of the most annoying and petty characters i've ever read about. she tried to kill avery, kidnapped tobias (and ruined his chances of forming a better relationship with avery, and, as the biggest toby and avery father daugther stan, i cannot stand this), manipulated grayson, and hurt many people. if you don't hate her, i don't trust you. also, i hope she doesn't get a redemption arc bc she doesn't deserve it.

sheffield. i have one thing to thank this dude for and that's the love confession from jameson after he put avery in a coma. other than that, he bombed avery, kidnapped avery, cheated on his wife, was a horrible 'father' to grayson (and his daugthers bc of colin). he's honestly tied with eve (he's not first cause i can't stand guys like drake). i dont really think i have to explain myself

emily. i really don't think i have to explain. she's manipulative, petty, self-absorbed. the only thing she has going for her is that she didn't try to kill anyone. she treated the boys like crap, emotionally abused her sister, and (although she wasn't present to do it i still blame her for it) affected avery's self-esteem.

ricky. i know he's high on this list but he's just so creepy to me. anyone who hurts avery in any way si automatically a no for me. he was never there for avery and libby, refused to take custody of her after her mom died, didn't show up to hannah's funeral, tried to step up to get money after avery inherited, got together with skye (ew???). ik this doesn't seem horrible in comparison to what the others did, but seeing avery's feelings towards him in the books (especially thl) made me despise him so that's why he's so high up.

tobias. he emotionally abused his grandsons, put avery in a position that he knew might get her killed, treated his own kids horribly, hurt a lot of people in order to become who he became. the only reason he isn't higher up is bc he did sometimes do nice things (although not often).

vincent. him and tobias are sort of interchangeable??? but he partnered with eve to get toby kidnapped (sort of putting a stop to toby and avery's relationship which like said earlier pisses me off). from what i remember, he didn't really do anything else and i sort of understand where he was coming from (getting revenge on tobias) but what he did is still horrible and taking his anger towards tobias out on a teenage girl is just weird to me.

skye. i find her character sort of interesting but she is a horrible mother towards her sons. she's also a huge pick me bc who sleeps with their sister's boyfriend. she also tried to get avery killed which is just a no no. this is sort of off topic and i've made a post about this before but she didn't get punished enough for what she did to avery and that is grayson's fault. i talk about it in slightly more detail in this post.

although i knew that avery was hurt by a lot of people in this series, this really showed me exactly how bad it was. there are even more people. literally every person on this list hurt her (directly or indirectly (in emily and vincent's case)). these people either tried to get her killed, messed with her head or both. avery is a girl boss. she deserves better.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #skye hawthorne #tobias hawthorne #eve laughlin #emily laughlin #drake sanders hate club #sheffield grayson #ricky grambs

[number1greedlingfan]

Headcanons that are meaningless to everyone but me (or extremely niche inside jokes formed by my friend group)

Hawkeye finds pleasantries, mostly "hello"s and "goodbye"s, pointless and kind of annoying. She'll sometimes engage in them in person but never over the phone. She often hangs up while the other person is mid "bye".

Havoc's "tried and true" opener on dates is that he prefers rainy weather because he, quote, "loves to curl up by the window with a good book and some tea". This is not only a bold-faced lie, but it hasn't helped him get past the first date so it's not any more effective than his other lines.

Fuery pulls more women than Havoc does (not that there was any competition lmao) but he is somehow unaware of this.

Mustang's singular hobby that he does purely for fun is building model ships. His only social interaction is with his coworkers because he does not have any other friends.

Ed thinks Winry is cooped up in her shop all day and all night but that's literally only when he shows up because he DOES IT UNANNOUNCED!! Winry has a thriving social life both in Resembool and Rush Valley. She knows every single person in Resembool and keeps tabs on the neighbors. She's invited to dinners and group outings all the time. People mourned when she moved to RV. Within a month of working at Garfiel's, she'd already met most of the people on the street and she remembers most of their names.

Because of her interests, it's often assumed that Winry is a "not like other girls" type but she is the exact opposite. If you say a single misogynistic thing about other girls' interests (like astrology or pop music) on a first date she is getting up and leaving.

Ling is hypermobile and can bend his hands like this️ ⬇️ as well as do things like back bends and pulling his shoulders out of their sockets. When he was younger he would go up to literally anyone (family members, visiting officials, perfect strangers) and ask if they wanted to see him pull his shoulder out and then not wait for an answer.

Ling's favorite fruit is mango. When he was seven he refused to eat anything but that and had so many that he threw up at a family function. (Mangos were ruined for him for two years.)

Lan Fan does not get sick often but when she does It's Bad and she's taken out for a week or more. When she was younger and delirious with fever, she started distressedly mumbling that she was turning into a cookie. Nothing would convince her otherwise (Fu tried everything). In the end, they had to get Ling to help and he calmed her down in seconds by saying "there are no crumbs so I think you're probably okay".

This is a small one: Lan Fan is on the ace spectrum.

When Mei cooks for other people she makes it as cute as humanly possible. Everything that can have a smiley face or heart on it will. Side note, Al and Mei are 100% a couple that cooks together.

Mei is a little bit fujopilled. You understand.

While he seems shady as hell, Greed's rap sheet is actually pathetically small. The worst crime he's ever committed is, of course, the single instance of kidnapping that we saw on screen.

Greed doesn't understand electricity. He thinks it's powered by electric eels ("eelectricity") and has numerous drawings in his diaries theorizing on the mechanics of these machines. Ex: A generator that has an eel tank with a water wheel inside of it. The drawing is accented with large arrows and question marks and "HOW DOES IT WORK"s. That being said! He's not stupid in all academics. Give this guy some numbers and put it in a financial context and he can calculate anything.

Greed likes the "finer things" but he also has bad taste and sometimes these clash horribly. Is the furniture in his home expensive? Yes. Does any of it match in any conceivable way? Fuck no. Also that nice walnut hutch that cost 1.5K is used solely to display his novelty bong collection.

Heinkel and Darius only became close and discovered the other was gay because of the Camping Trip. So,

#“op where is edwirt elrack” i dont ljke him #fullmetal alchemist #fma brotherhood #headcanons #team mustang #winry rockbell #ling yao #lan fan #mei chang #greed the avaricious #fmab darius #fmab heinkel

[whumpshaped]

its probably just me or whatever but genuinely one of the tropes that upset me the absolute most in media was like. when the villain kidnapped others and made them a comfortable home or smth, and was nice, and still the kidnapped ppl just kept going on and on about "can i go home now" "i want to go home" "when do i get to go home"

i know its absolutely irrational but i always felt incredibly bad for the villain and totally related to the anger when they eventually snapped. they did so much!!!!!! they were nice!!!!!! it was a nice place!!!!!!!

#actually please let me know if im not alone #or let me know what this says abt me lmao #im fairly sure its rooted in the fact that i never wanted to be home and if i was kidnapped and subjected to the cruel fate of #having to stay at a comfortably furnished place with a person who was nice to me completely free of charge and responsibilities #i wouldve never looked back #so on one hand i was jealous #on the other i feel like i also felt personally attacked when i saw someone's efforts not being acknowledged? #i understand. it was kidnapping and THEN niceness. i get it. i understand. #BUT VILLAIN WAS *NICE* WHY ISNT IT BEING ACKNOWLEDGED AND RECIPROCATED #so many feelings #like even just writing this out i feel that horrible urge to cry and also break things #it makes me feel so much #i need to write shit like this #its a little grace core tbh #somewhat. she has no illusions. she knows shes not trying to be particularly kind #but she does throw irrational fits like that

[zeb-z]

The thing about Forever and Bad is that they don't know how to deescalate, and they start at 100 straight from 0 every time with each other. They will spend hours arguing about semantics that don't matter. They will go to the extreme ends of pranks (which as fun as the audio remixes were, spending hours trying to find the source was literal hell genuine psychological torment). They will go for the throat just to antagonize the other.

So no, I don't think Forever knows a thing about Dapper or the other eggs whereabouts. He just knows better about the way Bad operates, the way he lies and deflects. He's familiar with his crafty words and how he turns a conversation on its head. He knows that what Bad is being accused of is entirely likely, that he is not who he usually is when the eggs are around. And he knows that Dapper, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is who Bad cares for most of all.

This isn't something he can argue hours about, to chip away little by little like he usually does. For both the safety of the worker, because the longer they're locked up surely the worse off they'll be - and for the safety of Bad, who if he wasn't under extreme watch by the Federation, he certainly is now, after Tubbo very loudly accused him in his Federation office.

He goes for the throat, immediately playing a trump card that he knows Bad won't just brush off or ignore, because as much as Bad can be unpredictable, Forever knows that Bad cares about the eggs as much as he does. As questionable as his morals are, as slippery as he can be to pin down, Bad has always placed the eggs as the highest priority - and he needs Bad to have no choice but to be honest, or to knock him off guard enough that he'll give him something to work with.

Is it fair? Maybe not. But when has Bad ever played fair with him?

#I haven’t watched forevers POV these past few days so take this with a grain of salt. this is a ghostie perspective #it’s like. there’s so many moving parts in this scenario. but we can all agree that bad was never morally right for kidnapping the worker #mf tortured them then developed some odd reverse Stockholm syndrome. we been knew bad is not a good person though #like. I’ve said it before I’ll say it again. bad highlights the difference between nice and good. because he is nice he has the capacity to #be generous and sweet. but my god he is not good #also. Tubbo man. the way he’s gone about this is so messy like. he’s caught on to bad that’d be good! if it wasn’t for the fact that #he played all his cards instantly in the middle of a federation office. like fuck man you’ve tripped alarm bells before you even knew the #damn situation. before you even had undeniable evidence. forgetting bad atm since ron doesn’t want to go back to the Feds this places him in #a terrible situation. it’s like it was not handled with tact or care and there will be consequences for acting without more knowledge yknow #also bad getting taken by feds will be bad for the eggs. straight up. as much as he deserves consequences for his actions it’s like the feds #are not who you want giving out consequences ffs #qsmp #mcyt #q!bbh #q!forever #bbh #forever #z speaks #also SORRY REPOST my organizational tags weren’t working you understand <3

[undertheknightwing]

I loved their short-lived "I hate this fucking family" scenes

#they switched back to default 'nice' mode afterwards obviously #but still #both were allowed to be upset and yell about it imo #gar's always trying to help everyone but always ends up being the one hurt #not only that but when he's the one needing help the titans couldn't care any less and just give him a lame hug or shoulder pat #then never talk to him again about what's bothering him #they didn't even care when he disappeared #it was just *shrugs* 'well at least he's not dead he'll show up sometime i guess' #then jon's the only one in true danger and his family does not seem to understand he's being hunted down by jon-el #i'd be scared and pissed off too if my dad who's superman just let the guy who's deadset on kidnapping and merging with me go #the only reason jon-el even took lana was to get clark away from jon he doesn't care about her or anything else really #he just wants jon and will do anything to get him #so yeah i'd be scared as SHIT that he's on the loose and now even more that he stole my dad's friend to purposely lure him away #(also once jon said where jon-el was clark REALLY should have switched into his suit since he knew he'd be public #and probably would have had to use his powers to catch jon-el) #(lara or not clark shouldn't have been using his powers in front of a crowded diner anyway) #the titans didn't care because it was gar who was missing #and the kents didn't care because it was jon who was in danger #dick would've been ripping apart the multiverse once he could if someone else was missing #and if jordan was in danger clois would have hid him at the fortress with some x-k to protect himself just in case #titans #superman and lois #gar logan #jonathan kent

[twpsyn-who]

Stiles Stilinski is my favorite/comfort character, which means that I have a deeply desire to ship him with everyone, wish pain and suffering upon himself and an unresolved need to read 'Dead Stiles Stilinski' fics.

I need more angst in my life. I need him to suffer

#but also I need more what if fics with Stiles dying in many situations. like why there's no fic where he's the third virgin sacrifice???? #what if stiles died after getting kidnapped by gerwhateverhisname?? like maybe he tried to do something to save Erica and Boyd that got him #killed or just the events took a darker turn than canon #stiles dying in all those instances where a gun has been pointed at his face #THE NOGITSUNE MAN. Stiles getting affected by the bite Scott gave his double and dying because of it??? Stiles actually dying instead of #losing concussions after they got the nogitsune??? Stiles not having a divine move and actually following with the suicide route???? #What If the Nogitsune possessed Allison and is Stiles the one who dies when they go rescue Lydia??? That idea is living rent free in my #mind not gonna lie. I could see Stiles spending time with mr Argent trying to understand why he was able to hurt an Oni #Imagine Stiles stealing Chris's gun (the one he used back then) with only a few bullets in it and a silver knife and when the bullets run #off he stabs the last oni and that's when it hits him. is silver. #ANYWAY the idea was that.therr's no enough dead Stiles Stilinski on AO3 ! #and I wanr more #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #all I want for Christmas is more angst and rare ship fics with this boy #PETER EITHER FORCING THE BITE ON STILE OR HIM ACCEPTING ONLY FOR IT TO NOT TAKE???? WHERE'S THAT.FIC AT HUH????? #just... the showdown is over peter is dead and derek is the alpha. everything nice and all until stiles... just falls on the ground. #the argents and jackson didn't need to be werewolves to tell that Stiles was hurt and bleeding but no one beside Derek knew why the blood #was turning black. anc Chris but how do you tell a bunch of kids that one of tgem was dying???? #ughhhh my heart man. Derek.offering to mercy kill Stiles??? omg Stiles being like 'Dad. I can't die I can't what about dad?' like he would #ve so worried about him!!! because if Claudia dying broke him? then Stiles dying too would kill the sheriff #so much angst potential yet nothing. unbelievable

[verahella]

— FIRST STEPS

“here, here, boy.”

you stifle a laugh, “he’s not a dog, satoru.”

“fetch.” he continues, smile widening when you burst into snickers.

your baby isn’t sure what his mom is laughing at but he joins in, smacking his hands on the floor as he gurgles along happily. he stumbles a little but his eyes stay firmly fixed on the lollipop satoru is waving around in his face.

“c’mon, baby. show your mom who’s the best and your favourite parent in the world.”

you scoff, “that’s not fair. you’re bribing him.”

his eyes don’t stray from your child as he replies, “it builds character. you gotta teach them young.”

“i will never understand how he became a dad.” megumi’s voice mutters through the phone.

“well, you see megumi-chan, when a man and a woman love each very much—”

you smack away gojo’s peeping head from the camera and focus it back on your son. he claps as he says something nonsensical, to which gojo nods along encouragingly, shoving the lollipop even closer and twirling it in the air.

megumi leans in closer to the screen, watching the act of corruption unfold on facetime, “i can’t believe he’s already taking his first steps.”

you smile, “that’s the thing with kids, megumi. they grow up too fast and right under your nose, yet you never know it. it just hits you like a truck and you’ve gotta deal with it.”

“sensei seems to be doing fine though.”

“don’t let his act fool you. he whines every night about how he’s getting old and soon his son will throw him in an old age home and—”

“that was a confidential late night conversation!” he grumbles, crossing his arms as the camera faces towards him. “besides, i did well with you, didn’t i?”

you catch a glimpse of megumi’s pink face before he mumbles something about kidnapping and hangs up. a smile blooms on your lips and you rest your hand on his shoulder, “you really did well.”

“nice try but that doesn’t mean i’m gonna let you have this one.” he gestures to the toddler spinning around himself now to catch the tail on his dinosaur onesie. a strand of white hair peaks through his hood and as his blue eyes catch yours, you can’t help but be reminded of the man beside you.

his hair, your nose. his eyes, your intelligence. his lips, your words.

holding a thousand features of you and gojo, proof of your love in flesh and blood, your son stands in front you with drool dripping down his chin.

a baffled expression takes over his face at his parents and their audacity to not include him in a group hug and he babbles angrily, waddling towards you while gojo snaps about a billion pictures from all angles, competition long forgotten as he coos at his pride and joy.

a tiny pair of arms hug your legs and you lift up your son, grinning. it’s bittersweet and maybe you’re overreacting for him just ‘walking’, but you can’t help but want to capture this moment and let it stay like this forever.

of course, all good things must come to an end.

gojo rests his chin on your shoulder, pulling down his blindfold, “now that he can walk, can we go bungee jumping?”

“what? satoru, no.”

“satoru yes.”

you get interrupted by a lollipop into your mouth and gojo kidnapping your son and teleporting to god knows where.

the couch will be warm tonight.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #vera’s.jjk.library.✎ #i got lazy at the end

[coryosbaby]

Cry, Kill, Die

[ part one ]

Synopsis: In which Coriolanus Snow takes you for his own.

content warning . Dark themes— stalking, kidnapping, and Stockholm’s syndrome heavily mentioned // Extremely dubious consent, Murder and gore mentioned, misogynistic elements // housewife kink, blowjob, peacekeeper (ish?) ! Coryo, dom! Coryo, he’s literally a fucking nutcase in this

note: this is probably going to be the darkest shit I’ve ever wrote b4, but I’ve had this idea for a while now 😭 not meant to be taken as romanticization, more of js me talking out of my ass w the plot and slight smut included during bc i wanna fuck coryo so bad . So yeah .

It’s been days.

You know that much— know that the last day you saw sunlight was at least four days ago, when you had been happily strolling through the woods picking flowers. When you had heard a snap of leaves. When you saw him watching you. When he had taken you for his own.

You sit, pretty and dainty, regardless of your current imprisonment, in a brown arm chair in the corner of the room. Your original dress had been torn into shambles, but he had gotten you a new one. A pretty lace thing, a pink babydoll dress with tiny bows all over it. It definitely wasn’t something district, so the mysterious man that had taken you confused you even more.

Not that you hadn’t seen him before all of this— he was a peacekeeper. At least, he was pretending to be. You know this because he had grabbed you from a rundown bar to save you from the hands of a drunken pervert one night.

You had thanked him, kissed his cheek sweetly.

“Thank you, Sir!”

But his niceness was all a lie. An evil, despicable lie. And when you saw him the day he had taken you, you noticed the change in him. The look on his face. Something dark, something not quite human.

Something hungry.

You had fought. You fought hard, too— clawing at his wrists, as his hand covered your mouth and he had shushed you.

“Shut up. Shut up right now, or I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

And you had understood greatly, had went limp in arms from fear and something else that you didn’t want to mention out loud. He had taken you to a cabin, a run down but still beautiful cabin. He had thrown you into one of the bedrooms, locked the door, and left. Thankfully, there was a bathroom built into your prison and you could relieve yourself anytime you liked. It was stocked with toilet paper, a toothbrush, your favorite shampoos and soap. You were too scared to take a shower, though, in fear of him getting angry with you. So you didn’t. You slept— still sleep— naked. It’s the only way you can get comfortable because of the scratchy material of the dress. The sheets are fresh, blanket soft, and you sleep heavy. To pretend that you’re somewhere else— to pretend that he didn’t take you.

He came back that night with food and water, unlocked the bedroom door for you. He had stroked your hair as you ate the luxury cherry pie that was expensive in the districts, the thick pasty filling forming a lump in your throat. You had asked him where he got it, and he didn’t answer.

The days went like that. Him leaving, bringing you food and water the next day, training you to get used to him like a lost, traumatized puppy. You had begun to ask him more questions, and you had gotten his name. He had revealed it to you on the third day, as he pulled you into his lap and stroked your hair.

“Coryo.” He had murmured, oddly sweet. “Call me Coryo, sweet thing.”

And now, it brings you to the present moment: you hear the familiar click of the doorknob, the thud of heavy peacekeeper boots against thick, run down wood. His helmet is off, and his buzzed hair shows greatly. A handsome man he is, but you won’t admit that to yourself. He has a bag in his hand, made of brown paper. He sighs, as if exhausted. He sits down at the kitchen table, and you can see him from the doorway.

“Come here,” he mutters to you. “Come here now, bunny.”

You can’t help but flush at the name he had given you, though fear curls in your gut at his tone. Your feet nervously pad over to his chair. His big hand wraps around your waist, pushing you down onto his lap as he begins to rummage around in the bag.

It’s a container of warm tomato soup, your favorite. There are probably better dishes, better food, but in the districts it’s the best meal around. Before you can wonder how Coryo knows it’s your favorite, he pulls out a spoon and dips it into the red liquid. He holds it up to your lips, and although you want to reject his offerings the growling of your tummy wins you over.

You slowly put your lips to the utensil, your taste buds exploding as the soup is placed on your tongue. You let out a tiny moan. You can’t help it! The soup is just too good.

“Hungry, aren’t you?”

You can hear the amusement in his voice, as you grab the spoon from him and begin to paw at the cup. You gulp down a few spoonfuls.

“It’s..” you pause, feeling around in Coryo’s lap. Your eyes widen as you feel his cock poking against you, and you slowly set the soup and spoon down. “It’s really good, Coryo. T-Thank you.”

He breathes out a laugh. You squirm against him, and it’s all too much. You lift yourself off of his lap and move to the living room couch. He watches, his brow raised, and if you look close enough you can see the clenching of his jaw.

“Are you scared of me?”

It’s a tone you haven’t heard from him, the faux gentleness gone.

Your breath wavers, your eyes averting from his.

“It’s just that..” you start, cautious, as you see his expression darken. “You— you took me, Coryo. My family must be so worried, so worried about me—“

He holds a hand up, as if to silence you. Your mouth shuts, your heart thudding against your chest. Coryo lifts his body up from the chair, slow and threatening. He makes his way over to you, his boots thudding against the wood once again.

“Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?”

You cower under him, your fingers gripping the couch cushions so hard that you fear they might break.

“I- I just—“

“You just what?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I come home, give you dinner, a roof over your head, a new dress.. and this is how you repay me?”

Your mouth opens. Closes. You can feel hot, salty tears beginning to well in your eyes. This man in front of you is crazy, unwell. He hardly knows you.

Right?

You do remember seeing him around, as you mentioned before. Always in district twelve because it’s where he was stationed, but—

He seemed to be everywhere. You remember, now; little glimpses of that familiar platinum blonde hair moving through the crowd, big arms holding a peacekeeper’s gun. At the bars you went to, at the crowded reapings that you (thankfully) never got picked in. Outside of your house, as you would peek out the curtained window, marching down the gravel road and making sure that no one avoided curfew. You remember the way his eyes would lock with yours almost every single time. He may have been stalking you for months.

“No,” you breathe out, as his body moves closer and closer to you. “No, that’s not what I meant at all! Coryo, I appreciate everything you’ve done. R-Really! But..”

“But what, you ungrateful brat?” He crouches, his eyes baring into yours like a predator stalking its prey. “Answer me!”

You jump, his sudden change in tone scaring you, and you let out a sob.

“I wanna go home!” You yell back at him, sniffling.

Coryo’s hand grasps your hair firmly, and he yanks your head back. You cry out, his grip making your scalp burn. His breath his hot against your ear.

“You are home now, little girl.”

Your feet kick and flail, as he presses his lips harshly to yours. It’s the first kiss, one of many to come, and you don’t kiss him back, can’t kiss him back, as his teeth clack against yours. He takes your bottom lip in between his sharp, pearly white teeth, and bites. You squeal, holding your mouth, watching Coryo’s icy blue eyes stare into your own as he pulls away. You can feel something wet dripping down your chin and taste warm, metallic blood.

“If you ever say anything about leaving me again… I’ll make sure to take you out to the hanging tree and string you up dead for everyone to see.“

—

He doesn’t leave, on this night. He takes off the top of his peacekeeper uniform and stays in his pants and white tee shirt. You sit, watching his big hands clean the hilt of his gun. Your fears increase as you watch him, wondering if he’ll use it on you by the end of the night, and it’s been quiet since the moment he kissed you and said those horrifying words.

Until he decides to break the silence.

“I hope you like the dress.”

Your mouth stays shut, and you repeatedly tie and untie one of the ribbons on the fabric.

“It’s one of a kind,” Coryo presses, setting his gun down onto the table. And then, in the most amused tone, in the most unsettling tone, “I’m not going to shoot you, darling.”

Your hand goes up to your mouth, taking note of the scab forming there, and you chew on your thumbnail. You hear the sound of rustling as coryo gets up from his spot. He crouches down in front of you again, his big palms splaying across your thighs. You can feel the tears welling up again, and you bring your hands up to your eyes as you let out a quiet sob.

Coryo sighs, bringing his much larger ones up to take hold of your fingers. He pulls them down, revealing your blubbering face to him.

“ I didn’t mean to hurt you earlier, angel. I didn’t—“ he stops, breathing heavily. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. God, I didn’t mean to make you cry…”

His lips go up to the back of your hand, kissing it softly. You look down, not staring into those predatory eyes again. You let him pepper kisses along your wrist and arm.

After a moment, when your tears have dried up, coryo sighs deeply. He stands, and begins to zip his uniform back up.

“I’m going out,” he says. “Okay? I’ll be back… thirty minutes, tops.” he grabs his gun, slips on his helmet. He turns to you right before his hand twists the doorknob. “Do you have any suggestions for dinner?”

It’s the first time he’s ever gave you a choice, and the first time he’s ever allowed you to stay in the living room. You bite your lip, thinking over your options. Of the many, many possibilities of food, of drinks, of comfort.

“Tomato soup, please.”

—

Coryo is true to his word. It doesn’t take him long to return back to the locked cabin, and when he appears through the doorway you take note of the key that he slips from his pocket and relocks the latch with. Your brows furrow, as you see the cup of tomato soup in one hand and a large bag in the other.

“I got you something.” He says, and your curiosity peaks.

He sits the materials down on the table, and you stare at the bag with wonder.

His hand reaches in, and he pulls out a fabric of embroidered silk. He reveals it to be a nightgown; a baby blue slip, with beading along the neckline and a flared hem of knee length. You fake a smile, though in your mind you are impressed. You’ve never been gifted sleepwear so luxurious before.

“It’s amazing, Coryo,” you compliment. “I love it. Thank you.”

You grab the nightgown from his hands, the material soft in your palms. You hold it up to your nose; laundry detergent and parfume. The smell of riches. The smell of the capital.

As you hold your gift, you wonder how privileged this man truly is.

—

“Well?” He urges, sitting down on the couch. His thighs spread, oddly tantalizing. “Try it on, darling. Let me see how beautiful you look in it.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and when he notices your hesitance he chuckles and covers his eyes up with his fingers.

“I won’t look,” he says. “I promise. See?”

You can see his eyes peeking through, but you don’t mention it. You know what he wants, anyway. And it isn’t like asking for privacy is going to change that. He will get what he wants sooner or later.

You feel exposed, hot, and violated all at once as you pull your discarded dress over your head. You’re quick to slip on the nightgown. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

It fits like a glove, and when Coryo removes his hands from his eyes he gets up from his seat. He admires examines you with awe written on his face.

“Oh, honey,” he coos. “You’re stunning. An absolute gem.”

You hate the way your cheeks flush from his words. You hate the way your thighs clench when his fingers brush against your chest as he circles you. You hate it all.

He strokes your cheek, leaning closer to your lips with each movement.

“Think I deserve a kiss for spoiling my girl, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you nod, letting him thumb your bottom lip before pressing his mouth to yours. This kiss is slow, deliberate, calculated. This kiss is sweet, if you didn’t know any better. You kiss him back this time, in fear of getting bit again. His hand curls into your hair, and he whispers.

“Maybe I deserve a little more?”

You’ve done this before with other men, but not like this. You let yourself slip down to your knees, anyway, and when you slip Coryo’s cock into your mouth he’s almost gentle.

Almost.

You hate it all.

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆ #bratty lxndry444 #Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #xreader #Coriolanus snow smut #Coriolanus snow fanfic #dark! Coriolanus snow #dom! Coriolanus snow #cry kill die #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic #Tom blyth

[mggsv]

SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind’a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk #jjk men #anime #jjk manga #gojo #satoru gojo #getou suguru #bimbo reader #jjk au #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x female reader #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #toji fushiguro #toji #tbr #reblog babe<3 #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

#Allurilove yandere writing #Allurilove—YANDERE STALKER X YOU PART TWO #tw yandere #tw stalking #cw blood #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere writing #yandere oc x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #smut writing #smut fic #yandere male x you #obsessive love #yandere fic #yandere oc x fem reader #yandere x fem reader #yandere drabble #smutty smut smut #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc fic #delusional yandere #yandere stalking

[gremlingottoosilly]

Someone, take Lego away from Konig (yandere!loser!Konig x fem!Reader)

AO3

Konig is keeping you in his basement. Turns out, this is still not the worst part. His interest are. Tags ans Warnings: Dub-con, obsessive behaviour, possessive behavior, yandere loser Konig, size difference, kidnapping, weird fluff.

König can play women’s bodies like fine musical instruments.

After he spent 10 minutes vigorously rubbing your outer labia, you concluded that he was thrown out of musical school on day one.

He flicks your clit occasionally, clearly not considering it something worthy of attention and, obviously, not something that actually brings you pleasure – he fidgets with it mechanically, like it’s a part of his riffle, and you almost want to say that his dismissive approach is kind of hot. He edges you perfectly, always giving away just enough pleasure that it feels nice, but not nearly enough that it brings you to orgasm – and he does so with zero idea of what he is doing, which makes you…almost proud. Of him. Of your angry crazy incel loser kidnapper who thought that bringing you lego flowers would make you suck his cock.

Well, it kinda did. Not the flowers, the whole…kidnapping thing. He did use it to get into your pants – and you aren’t even allowed to wear those now. Only his shirts, maybe a hoodie on a cold day, and a pair of lacy panties that he slips on you every morning he is at home.

You have a system – and König does his best to maintain it. You are getting fed at the same time, to make sure that your pretty little self is not malnourished, you are getting roughly clean clothes — most of it belongs to him, of course, like it’s not embarrassing to wear, and sometimes he even asks how your day was. Sometimes you look him deep in the eyes and say that you didn’t move from your usual spot the whole day because, well, you are kidnapped. Sometimes you are trying to be funny and make some silly jokes — and then he either gets too comfortable laughing and then trying to get his hand all the way down the depths of your inner thighs, or he gets angry.

König knows that a petty flower like you doesn’t want to be in captivity for so long, but there really isn’t much both of you can do about it.

He brings you different lego sets from time to time, trying to find out what you like the most. He doesn’t quite understand that, working in a Lego shop, you were utterly sick of most of the boxes lying around. He tried to gauge the reaction out of you, but you’re either ignoring him, crying or begging him to let you go…and he can’t exactly have that. He, kinda, can, of course, but it would mean sliding off your brain so you would never tell anyone about your experiences, or getting into a showdown with the police – and knowing that he hopped you through the border illegally to be his captive wife, wouldn’t really give him any brownie points. He is fucked, utterly and completely, if you’re ever going to be free without falling madly in love with him…

Which is why König is trying to make you love him. Thoroughly, utterly, and spending copious amounts of time with his tongue buried between your folds in the meantime.

Like now.

— You like it, ja? When I move like this…

He was spending too much time caressing and fondling your thighs – but you must admit that having his lips travel across your skin and sending goosebumps right into your core wasn’t so bad…he touched you a bit awkwardly, just a tad bit shy – like he wasn’t so sure how to approach a soft, female body instead of a cold rifle he was probably used to…he knows that he can’t just treat you like another one of his guns but, by god, if he doesn’t adore the way you look at him. All scared and nervous as he pushes his lips upwards, as he covers your soft skin with bite marks – you were so sure that he will be too nervous to even touch you, but you know better now…this guy doesn’t care that he is your captor. He only wants you to accept him, and if giving you gifts didn’t work out…

You needed to be a bit more diligent about the whole accepting his kindness thing. Maybe he would have been satisfied with a handjob – but now he wants to put his hands on you and do his job.

— Too…too much, Ko…

— Call me “sir”.

There is steel in his voice, and you stiff slightly. This is new – he was never like this before, even though you kinda got that he was in some sort of military. He was way too bulky and had too much money to be a regular gun nerd, so you settled for some special forces or elite war crime unit…then again, you weren’t in Germany anymore. Guy would have to get another citizenship to get into a more serious “I fucking hate my fellow man” forces.

He flicks his tongue over your clit and you remember what you’re here for. To get fucked. Because you are fucked. Not right now in physical sense, but you will be in a few minutes, and you’ve been mentally fucked for a few another hours and-

— Sir, ple…too much, re…really…

König fuckijng adores you.

He loves your trembling voice, your trembling hands, your trembling everything. The way you squint your eyes as he finds all of your special spots – it took him some time but ladies are just like riffles – come undone if you press on a few parts. You look perfect under him, and he couldn’t have you any other way even if he wanted to…god, you’re too fucking perfect for your own good. So, so pretty, it’s insane how he didn’t fuck you the first night you’ve been in his basement. Perhaps, he was trying to be a gentleman – fuck this, now. If he knew how sweet you would sound, he’d abandon any rotten chivalry on day one.

König didn’t have a lot of experience – a few sex workers here and there, some in the more exotic destinations while the others were, embarrassingly enough, from his hometown. It was a sense of domesticity, that he isn’t a fucking loser who can’t get a lady in his bed without wavering either his gun or hit wallet – but he has you now, and you don’t really care about his money or his guns…unless he counts your obvious activity. Which he doesn’t. Good golly, you’re too fucking pretty to count that.

He flicks his tongue over your clit and dips lower, deeper, sucking the sweet nectar straight from the source. You’re embarrassingly wet even as you try to push his head away – he would handcuff you, but he likes your little resistance attempts too much. He moans every time you tug on his hair and, with time, you should finally understand that everything you do only makes him want you more. Maybe, you do – but you keep doing this because you’re such a good girl who wants nothing more but to please her dearest…not exactly husband, but he can work on this. He has friends in places. Same ones who used to get him out of detentions when his quiet kid violent tendencies weren’t quite quiet enough.

He is moaning as he eats you out – the sound reverberates from your walls and makes you clench around his tongue, your brain already getting fried from pleasure. You never wanted to get off from your captor’s tongue buried so deep between your legs, but you surely enjoy it now…

You try to pry his head from you when he gets a bit too eager, when it feels like his nose is smashing your clit and you can only moan some mindless bullshit.

— You want to talk about lego instead?

He presses his head on your thighs, his cheek angled against the soft skin. He has a bit of a stubble that burns the soft skin, but the look in his eyes is far too eager. He is not bullshitting – and this is the most terrifying he is ever been. You try to imagine another three-hour lecture Star Wars and the history of lego sets combined with his awkward attempts to fuck you in between turning his affection spam from one thing to the other. The picture is vivid in your mind. You can almost hear it.

You consider your options. It is a hard decision for you.

— You know, they weren’t able to sell the sets to girls up until…

You grab a fistful of his hair and push his face all the way down your dripping pussy.

It looks like the only sure way of making your captor shut up is literally forcing him to fuck you…there were many such cases – you embarrassingly easily fall to his charms, even though he has the aura and charisma of a serial killer who got a freshly baked orphan for his lunch and then tried to talk you into destroying a small country’s economy.

König eats you out with the vigor of a starving man, and there isn’t a place he would love to be more than here and now, listening to your heavenly moans. This is the best motivational song he heard so far – and as he pushes his big, flat tongue deeper into the gummy walls of your clenching pussy, he thinks about recording your sounds and then listening to them in the gym. Could probably break the poor lifting pole with the strength of his fists.

He brought you to an orgasm – not easily, he had to lick the reaction out of you, your heat coming down to both of you like a wave. You feel tired immediately, knowing just how much energy you just wasted listening to his blabber between your legs – but you honestly can’t be arsed to react right now.

König lifts his body up so he can kiss you – you taste yourself on him and, admittedly, it’s a lovely way to make him shut up. You still tremble as you get down from your high, your legs finally giving up, even though you were already laying on that shabby mattress. You shift slightly so he won’t crush you under the weight of his body. A Lego piece pocks at your side, making you wince.

You hate this fucking place.

— What’s wrong, Liebling?

He nuzzles your neck like a needy dog, pressing light kisses all over your skin. He is marking it, too – you can’t keep comparing him to a dog, but this is exactly what he is. Simply a war hound that you have to tame in order to get a somewhat normal life while still belonging in his basement. You thought you knew how to play this game – then he pushed you on your tummy and fucked you because, apparently, you were too good at playing him. Even now, he acts more like a lover – if only you could see past his homicidal tendencies…

But you can’t.

But he doesn’t care anyway.

— I…

You bite your lips, trying to come up with a lie that wouldn’t make him fuck you. König thought you looked beautiful like this, all holed up in your thoughts. So, so pretty, he couldn’t help himself – he needed you, as much as he kinda hated playing the psychological game and trying to understand what you’re thinking. Ladies are too mysterious for him, after all.

— I want to sleep in a normal bed.

Oh.

Well, he…didn’t expect this.

He was ready to combat your desire to run away or to be let go willingly. He was ready to put you on your knees and make you beg for him to not let you go - after all, you did belong to him in all of his right. He didn’t…didn’t expect you to want something so simple. Something that he can do. God, you’d look fucking divine on his bed instead of the tiny basement he put you in. He can already imagine you on your tummy, face buried in his pillows as he pounds into your soft ass and explains every superhero poster he has in his room. He will show you all of his figures and knives and guns, and you’ll finally see just how amazing he is and how interesting his hobbies are – and you’re bound to finally love him the way he deserves.

You stare at him, blankly. He kinda loves when you look like that – sometimes he imagines you being a mindless little bimbo who can’t think of anything besides his dick, and it helps him get off when you’re too sleepy to play along with him. He tried to bring you more sets, something childish, something meant for girls – but you tossed away the rose bouquet and you didn’t even spare a second glance at some fandom set that he thought you’d like. God, you’re difficult. Women are difficult. Why can’t you be as straight as a riffle?

— Normal bed, Katzen? You don’t like it here?

He puts a hand on your shoulder, his fingers too big to rest on your body carefully – he easily reaches for your neck and he knows that you’d go out like a light with the smallest squeeze. You’re adorable and soft like this, and he can’t wait to finally try choking with you.

König imagines your pretty, soft body all helpless under him – maybe you’d claw at his hands and beg him to stop, maybe you’d enjoy it, drenching the small mattress with your juices. Maybe you’d push your hips towards his, desperately searching for release. You can be a nasty, dirty girl, he knows this all too well – mostly because he did go through your phone and searched for your browser history. Who knew that a simple lego store cashier could have so many kidnapping and overpowering fantasies. Who knew that you could be so wet just because some military-obsessed loser wanted to shove his cock into you and wasn’t nice enough to ask first.

— I…I don’t like the basement.

Smart girl. You know how to be sot and obedient when you have to. Too bad, this behavior also made you all the more desirable for König – compared to the rowdy recruits and dumb enemies, your quiet voice is everything he needs to not go crazy. His hand plays with your neck, squeezing it slightly, playfully. He can feel your pulse quickening every time he does this and he is sure that if he’d drop his hand between your legs again, your pulsating pussy would be wet enough to indicate a second orgasm.

Shit.

He goes too far again.

— You don’t like the basement? Why?

You stare at him, blankly. He seriously thought there is nothing wrong with the basement – it’s small, yes, but probably just about the size of a studio apartment you were able to afford while working in Berlin, of all places. You have a mattress, a loving boyfriend, you have all the food and snacks you want, your pussy is filled with cum and your mind should be filled with endless love and adoration for the coolest guy in the world who just so happens to be in love with you, so…

He looks at your face again. Ja, you don’t like the basement. You’re a surface girl after all.

— You really want me to answer that? It’s the basement.

He snorts, still dragging the conversation.

— I spend most of my childhood in the basement. It was nice.

— I could tell.

— What?

— Nothing. Let me out, please.

He sighs with deeply settled tiredness. He thought you’d be nicer about it, too – but he knows what ladies want, he is a ladies' man at heart. He doesn’t have one, of course, not unless this charcoal-black shrapnel-filled thing deep in his chest could be considered one, but he tried his best to be good for you. You deserve something nice, something good. He wants to kiss you all over and he will do it on his own bed, while trying to talk you into watching some old nerdy TV show with him. Maybe you’d agree to play with some Lego after this and it could be considered a really nice and thorough foreplay.

— I can’t.

— Let me sleep on a normal bed, then.

Well, this, he can do.

Carefully unlocking your shackles and immediately catching your legs so you won’t kick him in an attempt to escape, König picks you up like a kitten. It’s scary, almost, how easy it is for him to just manhandle you into the position he wants. He is a big boy, admittingly, so it really doesn’t matter how big or how small you are. He can abuse you easily, and this is why you’re trying to keep him gentle. Using all of your womanly charms even if this guy would get off just from you calling his name.

He covers your eyes so you won’t see anything – not like you’re interested in the amount of weirdly specific movie posters on the walls or an alarming amount of firearms. He knows he is not the most charming person out there with the most interesting hobbies, but you will learn to appreciate all of his anime figures, or else you’re going to suffer the fate of a recruit who dares to ask his late thirties colonel of who the fuck Ayanami Rei is. Rumors are held that this guy was never seen in the army again.

He only puts the hand away from your face when you are sitting on the soft bed. You stare at the navy sheets – fucking obviously – and, surprisingly, a bed frame. Then your gaze travels a bit further, to the walls and…

God.

Oh fuck.

You almost want to cry from how much of a loser your kidnapper is. He is a threatening mercenary, a fucking colonel in military uniform who holds you at gunpoint occasionally. You stare at the anime posters. You contemplate your options.

— Can I go back to the basement?

If god is real, he is a fucking anime girl from the poster in your kidnapper’s bedroom.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #cod x reader #yandere konig #yandere cod #call of duty #konig x you #konig smut #cod konig #loser!konig

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 27﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Yandere Hawks x F!Reader -> Ruts

Warnings: Dub!con, filthy dirty talk 😭, prone!bone, dóggy!, squirting, nicknames -> Baby bird, love bird, mentions of breed!ng, cumflation, plugging, overstimulation. Yandere tendencies, threats, wings as a source of threat, kidnapping. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: How you latched yourself as Hawks’ little thing after being just an avid fan, now caged and loved (in his own ways) and mated to. <3

You hate the crumbling feeling on your stomach that comes with Keigo's presence, your heart aches, your sanity gets crumpled under his dominant, ruthless gaze that hides oh-so-well behind his suffocating love. Keigo knew the moment he saw you for the first time, sparing your time at a coffee shop in the evening, the same shop he sometimes likes to visit. The coffee there is immaculate, not the 'gutter like' canned coffees he drinks for the hell of it. You were just as enamoured by the rest of the fans, gazing at him, some are nervously asking for his autograph, some of them are asking for selfies. Yet, nothing phases Hawks. It's as if he's made for this. Made to show everyone why he's the Number Two hero. You could almost swear it gave you strength and guts to ask yourself, so you get up from your place, walking towards him with that unhinged confidence, mingled with a hint of nervousness because of just how much you adored him as you urged him for a selfie. Mostly, Hawks takes respectful selfies with women, distancing himself just enough not to look probing, yet close enough to look friendly. Yet, she selfie you clicked with him didn't turn out to look so planned, so thought out. It almost seemed like Hawks wanted the momento you carried to have an imprinting significance.

Then, it was as if fate was responsible for what comes next, or that's something stupid you'd leave your old self to believe. Hawks saved you from harassing villains, taking you home couped up in his lap. Why wouldn't you ask him to come inside, why wouldn't you offer him a drink?

Now you're just a kidnapped nobody, your family thinks you're dead, your friends think you're dead, Keigo made sure of that. You see- he could easily date you, but patience is not something he harbours so perfectly. He could earn your love, by being the doting boyfriend, by being everything you'd ever want.

Then again, he can do that once he has the surety of you being couped up in his house. That's exactly what he did.

"Come on Baby bird, I am trying to be nice." He coos softly, watching you scream and cry and beg, it breaks his heart why don't you understand.

"Maybe I can write my name on your hand?" He holds up his feather blade, it's half threat, half unhinged devotion. "Promise you won't feel a thing!"

"Hey I got you, your absolute favourite food lovebird, come here." He croons, urging you against your will to settle in his lap as he feeds you.

He is tolerant, even tempered, hopelessly funny until you piss him off. You know better than to piss him off after being with him for a few months now. You can't even recognize him when that happens, rageful daunting echoing through the walls as his flowy feathers encircle your body like a threat, Hawks is a threat. You mustn't forget that.

He thinks sex can solve it all, what more than to make love to his mate, to get intimate and make you take his ridged member in your hole over and over until it slides in without your squirms and moans. He can tie you up if you do though, no disturbances please-

You haven't seen the real, gruesome, cruel self of Hawks yet. You will soon, his rut is approaching. The symptoms are clear to him, and weirdly to you as well. He has discussed this several times during the 'aftercare' of you. "You know, there are certain times when.." his thumb rubbing your palm soothingly, "When the avian side of me becomes dominant…" He says it so softly you'd almost feel it's harmless.

Not right now though, when it's actually impending and happening.

"Baby bird, did you fucking put your clothes in laundry?" Keigo yelled from the washroom, the restroom's echo making him sound even more terrific than he usually is. You visibly flinch like a dried leaf, shuddering, "Sorry- Kei I- uhm, sorry they were dirty." You don't know the reason of this outburst, you'd rather not find out.

You give yourself strength to drag your defiant feet towards the rest room, finding him pathetically curled up on the left-over set of your used clothes. He looks almost cute if it weren't for his intentions.

"God I- I want you so fucking bad." He almost whimpers, soon turning into an aggressive growl.

"On the fucking bed, all fours." You shake up at the sudden order, were you being punished for something like this? Keigo's crazy but he's not this- off his clock. "Why? What- what did I do wrong?" You bite your lip, one feeble attempt to want to know what you're up against.

Hawks sighs, his expressive wings faltering as he took two steps towards you, wanting to lessen the distance. You wanted to run so bad, the instinct in you screaming to run, yet the panic in you freezing you up.

"Nothing, pretty girl. Told you I got my rut approaching, didn't I?" Hawks is slightly tender, though from the way he's straining himself to be polite, you know not for long. "On the bed. All. Fours." He gripped your face with a single hand, puckering your lips and leaning in, forcing a painful whimper with the way he kisses you roughly.

"Good girl." He parts away, the string of saliva parting like a thread of fate.

You don't want to make this hard on yourself, so you walk towards the shared master bedroom, it's designed in colours which are neutral, yet suit perfectly to the Hawks palette. As his fan, or ex-fan, rather, you always thought of how his aesthetic would be, and it perfectly matches your imaginations.

To please him a little more, you take off your clothes, arching your back up perfectly to let him see your pre-abused cunt, sitting perfectly down your tightened asshole. You bury your head on the mattress, letting it be cushioned in the fluffy pillows.

An audible hiss escapes Hawks, he can't fucking control the lewd desires that tear him apart when he marvels at your body. "These next few days, would be tough, Angel." Keigo warns, and before your brain could register, or formulate a response, You feel Keigo spitting onto your cunt, the dribble of the liquid making you throb, moistening your walls as his fingers pinched at your clit. A small whimper escapes you when you find your sensitive bundle of nerves under his mercy. "Aw, little slut loves a little pain with it." Keigo snickers under his breath, spanking the fat of your ass hard, one single hit shoving you into the mattress more, though the hold on your clit forbids you to. It feels like a clamp being pulled, you're left with nothing more than a scream as a response.

"Oh good girl, sing for me." Hawks hums, spreading your ass cheeks and watching your now relieved clit twitch, along with your walls. "This pussy begging for me?" He warns, and you nodded as if there's no other answer you can give him.

"Going to fill you up, breed my little mate until she can't take it anymore. Give you so many loads your pussy can't have any other option but to give me a little Keigo, or a little Y/N." He groans to himself, taking his hardened cock out, shoving it deep into your walls, in one swift go. You can cum as many times as you want really, because normally, Keigo's stamina covers up for it, this time- worse. He's rutting like an animal, achy, needy, all for you.

"Then- you know what I'll do?" Hawks breathes out, gritting his teeth as you scream in pain, laced with the perfect amount of pleasure.

"Then, I'll plug this pretty pussy up, none of my cum can escape. Then when I want to, I'd unplug and fill you up again. Little cum jar." He laughs, "My pathetic little cum dump, aren't you?"

Hawks is filthy, absolutely unhinged and filthy with the way dirty talk laced with degradation spouts out from him.

You nodded, hating the way your body betrays you at his words, the way your cunt clamps onto him in a silent affirmation.

"Good (thrust) girl (thrust), gonna (thrust) fill'ya (thrust) up."

Your moans and whimpers echo throughout the shared bedroom, it feels almost sinful, the way his dick kisses your cervix, brushing against your G-spot and making you dance around the waves of pleasure. "So fuckin' tight even though I fuck your pussy up almost err'day." Keigo leans his head back, praising you as he rails onto you, one to two thrusts every second, hands gripping your waist with a bruising grip so you can't possibly run away. "Atta girl" He loves how your moans break into a jerk with the way he's thrusting. Loving the way your petite body tries to clamp up around him, loving the way you try to keep up.

"Aw she's clenching, yeah? Go on, massage my cock and cum. NOW." Keigo commands, an order which would come intertwined with punishments if you don't listen. You croak out, as you orgasm, the constant poking of your G-Spot makes you remember the familiar sensation when you squirted last time, it's so embarrassing, how you gush out at the roughness, and you find yourself doing exactly that. "Aw yes baby, yeah baby," Keigo encouraged, riding out your high as he thrusted his own load, deep into you, still continuing, the same pace, no break.

"Ngh- Ah- please- no. You- I can't." You can feel yourself squeeze down, pathetically so as another orgasm builds to betray your words.

"No no no, where'dya think you're doing Baby bird?" Keigo chuckles, laughing at your feeble attempt to run away, loving how your legs give out.

"Hmm? Want Prone bone? Oof, nasty little song bird." Keigo commented, adjusting your legs, using your tiredness to his advantage as his pelvis slaps your ass with the aggressive way his cock thrusts into you. It's akin to an actual spanking, and you tip off the edge of your delicious orgasm once more. Gritting teeth at the overpowering waves of pleasure. "Gah- can't-"

Your whimpers are paid no heed, another sticky load from Keigo creaming inside you. "That's two, got a lot more in me." Keigo warns, while you feel dizzy at the shaking way your body is being used.

He stops a little though, wanting to give you just a few more minutes before you can start giving him orgasms again, his beautiful little cock massager.

Keigo loves it, how giving you a break makes you slightly reset to be used again.

"Say you love me." He croons, almost sounding like a hurt child, though you know that persona would quickly change.

"I love you." He makes you say it so many times your own definition of the term 'love' is slightly going hazy, not accustomed to your own terms and blurring out with his.

"Gonna make you turn on your back now Little one." Keigo coos, watching you tenderly and moving again.

Oh it was going to be a long night for Hawks' mate. You only hope you'd be able to bear him on you, just as he hopes of you loving him as much as he does.

#hawks bnha #hawks imagines #yandere hawks #hawks smut #hawks thirst #bnha smut #Bnha thirst #hawks x reader #yandere hawks smut #yandere hawks thirst #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere x reader #yandere smut #Yandere thirst #yandere bnha smut #yandere mha smut #mha kinktober #bnha kinktober #bnha imagines #hawks x reader imagines #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[coco-loco-nut]

Lucky Charm

pairing: Lando Norris x Goddaughter Reader

summary: Max Fewtrell finally takes his baby girl to watch her godfather race

requests open masterlist part two

——————

Max and Pietra finally caved on your constant begging to watch your uncle Lando race. So when Max request three paddock passes from Lando, Lando couldn’t contain himself. Sadly for Lando, they were only going to be there for the

Max and Pietra had barely set down their bags in their hotel room in Miami when there was a knock on the door.

“Here’s your paddock passes, I’m taking my goddaughter now. We will be at the track,” Lando essentially kidnaps you, leaving the room immediately.

To be fair, you were equally obsessed with him, always looking at him wide eyed and fascinated. He was your idol, and at three years old you wanted to be just like him.

“Uncle Landwo, ice cream,” you pout.

“Alright, we can stop by Red Bull when we get to the track,” Lando laughs, carefully getting into the chartered car behind Oscar.

“I didn’t realize you had a kid,” Oscar teases as your little hands played with Lando’s hair. You look at Oscar and smile.

“Oscwah,” you point at the Australian after Lando told you his name.

“That’s right, and what is your name, princess?” Oscar says gently yet a little awkwardly, not sure how to interact with kids.

“Y/n,” you say shyly, hiding behind Lando.

“It is nice to meet you,” Oscar smiles, not pushing your shyness any further.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s get your ice cream,” Lando holds you securely to his side, stepping out of the car. He scans both his and your passes. He requested to go in a way that you wouldn’t be hounded by fans.

“I will see you at McLaren,” Oscar separates from the small group when you reach Red Bull.

“Lando, what are you doing here-“ Max gets a glimpse of you looking around. “Ah, I will take you up the ice cream. It is the first thing P asks for when she arrives,” Max smiles.

“That is the objective,” Lando sets you down, letting you walk in front of him. Once you are satisfied with your ice cream, he takes you to McLaren. You are entertained with the coloring book Lando got you to use during the team meetings.

“Good morning, Lando and guest,” Zak looks a little confused as Oscar compliments your coloring.

“Here,” you hand Oscar a crayon, distracting him with coloring. You point to where he should color and he nods eagerly, happy to help.

“Oscar,” Lando nudges his teammate who looks up to Zak’s disapproving face. He mutters an apology and leaves you to happily coloring by yourself.

Lando keeps you entertained until Max and Pietra arrive to the track, looking significantly less tired than they did this morning.

“She wasn’t too much trouble, was she?” Max asks, following Lando to his room.

“Of course not, we got ice cream, she colored while sitting in the team meeting, and now she’s napping,” Lando looks at his best friends proudly.

“Thank you, Lando,” Pietra carefully picks you up. “We will be in hospitality,” she tells Lando, leaving with Max so Lando can get ready. You were dressed in McLaren gear that Lando bought you, and you hold the stuffed McLaren koala that Oscar gave you tightly.

“Wanna sit in my car?” Lando walks over to where you are eating a late lunch.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Max agrees, pulling out a pair of headphones for you. Lando is practically bouncing with excitement as you care carefully lowered into the car by Pietra.

“Zak, I’ve been replaced,” Lando laughs as Zak and Oscar approach.

“She’ll win a race before you,” Zak teases, you look confused as everyone but you and Lando laugh.

“Alright, let’s get a photo of you with Uncle Lando,” you are pulled out of the car and you stand proudly in front of your godfather.

“I’m going to win, my lucky charm is here,” Lando grins before pulling his helmet on.

You didn’t understand the significance of Lando’s win, but you saw everyone cheering and that was enough for you. You and your parents don’t see Lando until after his podium and interviews, but Lando makes sure you are one of the first people he sees after his driver obligations.

“There’s my lucky charm! You are coming to every race now,” Lando picks you up and hugs you, swinging you back and forth.

“Lando, she is not going to go to every race with you, but maybe we can come to one or two more,” Max laughs as you happily cling to Lando.

“Yay!”

#f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando nowins #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter Two - An Understanding

< Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”

“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”

“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.

The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.

“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”

Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”

“It wasn���t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”

The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”

Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”

“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."

"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."

"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."

Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."

Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.

"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"

A loaded question. "Well. Not really."

"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."

"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."

John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."

"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.

He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."

"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"

He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."

"I'll find a new job. I always do."

"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."

You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."

John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"

A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"

"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”

If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.

“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”

“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.

The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”

“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”

“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.

“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.

Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."

“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.

“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Isn’t she just?”

“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.

You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.

"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."

You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"

"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"

You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.

“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”

“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”

The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.

The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.

“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”

John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.

“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”

“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”

“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”

“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”

“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.

“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.

“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.

Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”

They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”

"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."

At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.

Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.

John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.

Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.

There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.

“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.

“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.

“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”

He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”

"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."

"And the student loans?"

"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"

"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.

You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"

"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"

You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.

"Can I think about it?" you ask.

"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"

You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.

Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.

“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.

“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”

“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”

“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”

“I’m not his people.”

John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”

A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.

"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”

There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.

You’re worried that he might be right.

My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Retirement Party #Chapter 2 baybeee #Doll is coming to terms with the weirdest situation she's ever been in #cod mw fanfiction #John Price x Reader #x reader #Some hints of Poly 141 (I think it'll crop up properly later on) #Gaz wearing his kiss the cook apron wondering why Doll's not kissing him ): (It's because you kidnapped her) #Johnny never change baby boy you're a dog and we love that about you

[dabislittlemouse]

“𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐞…”

Part 2 | Dabi x fem!Reader

CW: yandere themes, some mentions of noncon, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, complicated feelings, stockholm syndrome

SYNOPSIS: you are finally saved from the hands of your captor, who was now locked up, far away from you. But to this day, the memory of him still haunts you in your dreams, still so present in your life, still reminding you that you are his girl.

A/N: here the reader finally decides to read Dabi’s letters, we’re taking it slow guys ;)

Part 1 | REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Your hands rummaged through the mailbox to grab the letters that were sent from Tartarus. You stared at the envelopes, your chest suddenly feeling tight, for a second you were about to change your mind and throw them away. Though you felt something gnawing inside of you, the guilt and fear of ignoring Dabi, you felt like you were still obliged to him even if he was now locked away, technically out of your life. You must read those letters and you must reply back. You wouldn’t want to anger him would you?

“You know what happens when you make me mad..” Dabi would whisper in your ear, grabbing your wrist tightly. “Don’t get out of my eyesight, I won’t repeat myself twice.”

You vividly remember how that day he had taken you to the shopping mall, wanting to spoil you with nice things since you’d been so good to him lately. Though as you would go through the aisles, staring in awe at the variety of clothes and cute things you could buy, you forgot that you had separated from Dabi, when he had clearly told you not to go too far and wait for him.

“Shall I put ya on a leash and drag you around for you to finally understand?” he scoffed.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled. “I won’t walk away again”

First thing you would always do was apologize of course, because you knew how far Dabi would go. If he said something, he would actually do it. And you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his heinous acts. You remembered how tense you felt, if you had run away and called for help back then, would someone have helped you?

“No” Dabi’s voice echoed in your head. “They would ignore your pleas, leave you there to die, thinking that some righteous hero will come to save you soon. But they don’t care. This is what society has become, rotten to the core.”

This was what he was fighting against, to burn down the whole system, take down the corrupted heroes, and he would passionately talk about it with you, making you part of his bright future.

You shook your head off the thoughts taking over your mind, and opened the envelopes, grabbing the one of the letters.

“My pretty girl,

wonderin’ what you might be doing right in this moment as I write this. Have you been good? Are you inside your little apartment, watching those favorite TV shows of yours? Or are you outside, going to places that I don’t know of? Meeting new people, having fun and all that? Trying to create a new life after our separation, trying to fit back into society…

I bet you are. I wonder how that is going~

As for me, I am sitting here, losing count of days while being surrounded by these four walls 24/7. Kinda boring to be honest, nothin’ much happenin’ around here. You are all I think of baby, and the remains of your pretty face in my memories. My hands are itching to just grab at it and kiss it just how it deserves to be kissed. I gotta admit, this punishment is much worse than being locked up, it hurts a lot baby. Knowing that all this time you haven’t bothered to check on me once…damn, it really hurts a lot~

You like hurting me though don’t cha? I guess it’s fair, knowing the ways I’ve hurt you and marked your body all over. But you know that it was all out of love, right? That’s how I like to express it, just imagining what a piece of art your body looked like whenever you ended up on my hands baby..

Fuck it- even now as I think about it I’m aching, and your pretty mouth, that soft tongue could be the only solution to my problems~

Do you realise how much I crave you? Physically and mentally, look what you do to me princess. And the more you ignore me, the less that fire goes away. I guess distance strengthens relationships don’t you agree? I wonder how you’ve been feeling lately, do you miss me? Just a little bit? I bet ya do~

I miss you a lot. Terribly. I ain’t good with words so that’s how much I can express it. Y’know I’m mostly a man of actions, words don’t do it for me.

You can ignore me all you want, I won’t stop writing you. I know one day you will be sitting down to read these letters, because I know you feel the same fire inside of you that only I ignited. We are made for each other, you are just meant to be mine, never think otherwise.

Waiting patiently for a letter back. Make sure to put something in your envelope as well. A recent picture of you, your perfume, or maybe something else, y’know it~

Yours only,

Dabi.

For a while you stared into nothingness, only the sound of your heartbeats in your ears. The letter was clutched tightly on your hands.

“Fuck..” you whispered, before letting out a breathy laugh. You continued laughing to yourself, all while your eyes filled with tears. You weren’t sure if those tears were tears of anger, sadness, hopelessness, fear, love, maybe altogether.

You were terrified, that was certain. Terrified that he still hasn’t forgotten about you, nor given up on you. Terrified that he still thought that this fucked up relationship was true love, despite all the suffering you endured. Through all those sentences and words, you could feel as if Dabi was right in front of you, you could even hear his voice reading the letter for you. It’s like he had possessed you, like a demon that took place in your body and mind forever.

“This isn’t love..” you mumbled. “This is not love, this is NOT LOVE!”

You screamed at the letter, throwing it away.

“I hate you!” you finally burst into tears. “Why can’t you leave my life?! Why, why, why?!”

Why do I miss you like this?

Have you become addicted to the hurt and pain? Or maybe the way he would hold you close and kiss you and worship you right after he completely broke you, maybe you got addicted to that. You could only imagine his reaction if he knew what you’re feeling.

“Told ya so” he would say with a cocky smirk on his face and his cerulean eyes glaring at you hungrily. “Me and you are meant to be”

The rest of the letters pretty much held the same content, though the more he wrote, the filthier he got. It was clear that he craved you badly, as he sat there alone in the prison cell. You squeezed your thighs shut, swallowing nervously while your body remembered the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of you, always hitting that one special spot deep inside of you and making you see stars.

Apart from everything, Dabi was sexually frustrated. Hands just weren’t enough for the job, they could never replace the way your wet cunt wrapped so nicely around his aching cock. He was getting off on memories, every day and every night, bringing back on his mind the ways he would take you, softly or roughly, just as he pleased. He loved the way you screamed and cried and begged for him to stop, he got addicted to it, nothing and nobody else could even get him hard anymore.

“Do you still get wet for me baby?” Dabi wrote in one of the letters. “Do you play with yourself late at night while remembering the way I ate that pretty pussy of yours, slurping every remaining juice, licking that sweet clit.. I almost drool as I think about your flavor, need to quench my thirst so bad. Just need to dive in between those plush thighs of yours and devour you all damn night, until it gets too much and you start crying. And even then I won’t stop, cause y’know hearing you cry just gets me off real nice. Yeah I am sadistic like that, you already know it baby. And yet you like me just the way I am, you always feel that thrill, I can tell by the way your pussy fluttered each time I got my hands and fingers on it, each time I left marks on you, my little painslut”

Dabi was sure he had turned you into his little masochist, he trained you to cum only when he inflicted pain on you, and the pleasure mixing with it sent you over the edge.

You took all the letters and made sure to get rid of them, burning all of them until they were nothing but ashes. Though the words written in them never burned away, they planted themselves deep inside of you, not leaving your mind for the rest of the day. As the days went by, you decided to distract yourself as best as you could. Meeting your old friend, going out for a walk, going shopping, karaoke nights, watching movies, going for a drink, you name it. And yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling of emptiness, that in some fucked up way only that monster could fill. How could you be so terrified of someone and yet so addicted at the same time? You were sure it would pass as time went by, but it never did. Your body still held the memories of the past, the nasty burn marks were there, probably would stay there forever too. For some reason you found comfort at the old memories, at the old feelings, the abuse had become a familiar thing to you, and you wanted familiar. The outside world and its people, no matter how much you tried to fit in, it was all foreign, unfamiliar, you didn’t belong there.

You belonged to him only.

“Face your fears” someone used to say. “Once you bravely face your fears, they won’t haunt you anymore. Make it known that you don’t submit to them anymore, they don’t affect you anymore, they don’t scare you. And it will all go away”

Should you face Dabi? Should you tell him right to his face that things between you and him have ended forever, that you now are living a good life, happy, away from him? Would that be a lie? Yes.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me” Dabi used to say. “I can tell when you’re lying baby.. I hate liars”

***

“Two more weeks” the guard said, not turning to look at the prisoner. “The boss said we are at the last steps of preparation. We will finally get you out of here, sir”

Dabi nodded, exhaling the smoke of cigarette. “I am a patient man”

The guard continued. “One of our men informed me that the girl had called the prison yesterday, asking how the visiting hours worked in here”

Dabi quirked a brow, slowly turning his head towards the guard outside of his door. A grin creeped up his face, his eyes widening in pure thrill. “Is that so? Haa, m’getting excited now, seems like the little angel indeed misses me a lot”

He stood up, heading towards the door and peeking through the small window.

“Let me know as soon as she decides to come and visit. Must look decent in front of ‘er”

The guard chuckled.

“Of course, sir”

🏷️ tags: @hunajan @touyalove @murderous-snail @syrenkitsune @baby-tini

#B.writes #dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #dabi smut #bnha smut #yandere x reader #x reader #tw: smoking