#it is late and i am so sleep depraved

[theaceofarrows]

Batboy memes

#dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batboys #batdad #batfamily #batfam #robin dick grayson #the last one is my fave #it is late and i am so sleep depraved #enjoy

[evansbby]

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✨🎀

Pairing: quarterback!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader

Summary: You have to do what daddy says, no matter how depraved it may be.

Warnings: smutt, dd/lg vibes, daddy kink, phone sex, riding of stuffed animals, dirty talk, Ari being depraved, Ari being a cocky asshole, innocence kink.

“But Ari, I’ve never sent nudes before.”

You bite your lip, moving your phone from one ear to the other. It was 2am, and you’re usually never awake this late. But you’d been working on a paper that was due tomorrow morning, and then Ari had called you.

Which was crazy. You didn’t even know Ari had your number. He was a senior and you were only a freshman and it was insane that he wanted to talk to you! You’d only ever met him once at a party last week, where he’d flirted with you sporadically throughout the night. You didn’t think much of it at the time, since he’d been flirting with a bunch of other girls too.

“Just lift your shirt up and send me a picture, sweetheart.” Ari insists, sounding smug on the other end of the line. “Maybe play with your tits a bit? Fuck, you have such nice tits.”

“Y-You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. I can’t stop staring at them whenever I see you in person.”

“Oh. Thanks!” You know you shouldn’t be happy with such a shallow compliment, but the fact that he’s interested in you is giving you butterflies. He was older than you, and he was the captain of the football team and the most popular guy on campus. You were, of course, none of those things.

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” There’s a slight edge to his tone.

You inhale deeply, opening your camera and lifting your top up. You’re not wearing a bra and your nipples are already hard from Ari’s smooth-talking and his gravelly voice. You snap a quick picture before sending it to him.

A pause.

“Fuck, you are so hot.”

“Thank you!” You glow at the praise. But then your eye catches the clock on your nightstand, “ooh, Ari, it’s getting late! I need to sleep now.”

“No.” Ari commands. “Let’s talk on FaceTime.”

“But I’m only in my PJs!” (They were babyish pyjamas too, nothing sexy at all.)

He ignores you, cutting the call and then calling you again through FaceTime. You accept it, gasping because he was shirtless on his bed. You’d never seen him shirtless before! His chest and torso were so muscular and hairy—but it made him look so manly that you couldn’t help but feel sparks run down your spine.

“Cute PJs.” He snorts.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything sexier.”

“Don’t worry, baby. But maybe you should just take your top off completely, hm?”

“Oh, uh… I don’t know about that, Ari.”

“I’m not wearing a shirt, am I? So it’s only fair if you don’t wear one either.” He gives you a charming smile and you feel your insides turn to goo. Oh, you had the biggest crush on him! You can already feel every cell in your body itching to do exactly what he’s asked you to.

You shrug your top off, trying only to focus on Ari and how his eyes widen, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his unruly brown hair. His other hand is out of frame, and you can’t see what he’s doing with it.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy, baby, showing off your hot, tight little body to me, huh?”

“I—I…uh… y-yeah, I guess—”

“Move up and down for me a bit, I wanna see your tits bounce. Mm, just like that, sweetie. Fuck, you love listening to me, don’t you?”

You watch in awe as he spits down into the palm of his hand, and now you can guess what his hand is doing and it makes your eyes widen but your core pulses with lust too.

“Look how hard your nipples are, baby. Touch ‘em for me. Play with them like a little slut, like how all the pornstars and slutty cam-girls do it. Like you’re being paid to do it, fuck! Goddamn, you’re so hot.”

He pans his camera downwards for a split second, and you gasp when you see his huge cock in his hand. He’s pumping it steadily, and it looks so big and fat and red and—

“B-But Ari, I’ve never watched porn before so I don’t know how a pornstar does it.” You blurt out.

A pause.

“Mm, you’re a real good girl aren’t you?” Ari chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair again. He’s still pumping his dick, but more leisurely now, like a wolf who knows he has all night to play with his prey.

You shrug awkwardly, “I guess I am.”

“So tell me, how does a good girl like you like to be fucked?”

“Wh-What?!”

Ari snorts, “C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I’m gonna fuck you real soon. So I need to know how you like it. All sweet and slow? Because I can do that shit. Or are you a real freak in the sheets, and want me to shove your face against a pillow and take you hard and fast on your hands and knees?”

Your mouth drops open, and you suddenly feel so shy because how is he talking about such graphic things so easily???

“Mm, you like the sound of that second option huh?” Ari says, and now he sounds slightly breathless. His face is shiny with a layer of sheen, and his hair is falling over his face as he pumps his dick and his eyes look all over your topless form like he’s ravenous. “The innocent ones are always the freaky ones.”

“I’m not freaky!”

“So you don’t want me to fuck you doggy style with my hand round your throat like you’re wearing a goddamn collar, huh baby?” His voice sounds rough, gravelly, so infinitely turned on. And it’s crazy how quickly he switches back and forth from that to his casual, charming tone.

“Bet your little baby pussy is clenching right now, isn’t it baby? And I bet you’ve made a mess all over your bed because you’re so turned on.”

You glance down guiltily, hating how he’s right. There’s a huge wet stain on your sheets underneath you. You hadn’t realised just how wet you were because of all this. You bow your head and Ari smirks knowingly.

“Virgins get the wettest. And you’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen even more and you nod. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he know?!

“That’s what I thought.” Ari lets out a low groan, jacking off even faster. “Now listen, I want you to practice for when I fuck you.”

“Practice?”

“Yes, baby. I need to teach you so many things. But first tell me, do you have a stuffed animal in your room?”

Your face lights up, “Sure I do! This is Fluffy!” You grab your stuffed lamb and wave it in front of your camera.

“Give Fluffy a kiss.” Ari orders you darkly, his tone switching to more serious.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Give your toy a kiss.” His normally blue eyes are now almost black, his pupils are so blown out with lust. And his order is kind of weird but you feel your pussy clench and leak some more, and you know you’re turned on by how authoritative he’s being.

You obey, pecking the stuffed lamb quickly. You feel embarrassed but you’re also feeling extremely submissive. And obeying him is turning you on so much.

“Not like that, baby. Make out with Fluffy properly. Like you would if it was me.” Ari says, and you look at him in shock only to see him smirking lazily back at you. His dick is throbbing against his hairy abs and he’s once again lazily stroking himself as he watches you intently. “Use your tongue.”

It’s by far the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. You scrunch your eyes shut and try to imagine your stuffie is Ari. And it’s not like you haven’t done it before — because you’ve practiced kissing on your stuffies in the past. But never in front of an audience, let alone a ravenous looking jock who’s jacking off while watching your every move intently.

“Mm, just like that. You like kissing Fluffy, huh?” He asks you darkly, and you can hear the steady thwapping sound of him pumping his dick.

“Uh. Not really, it’s kind of wei—”

“Use your tongue more,” he cuts you off, “get your little toy nice and wet, baby. Mm, just like that. Daddy loves it when you do it like that.”

You gape at him, “d-daddy?”

Ari smirks, “yeah. That’s what you’re gonna call me from now on. Got it?”

You gulp, “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

He licks his lips, “of course you didn’t know, you’re just a baby. But guys love it when girls call them daddy. It just means I’m in charge of you and that I’ll take care of you. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

You mull over his words. That did sound nice, and the idea of calling him daddy was kinda making you feel all hot and bothered down there…

“Try it.” Ari suggests, “Say that you’re just a little baby who needs her daddy to tell her what to do.”

You bite your lip, “uh—okay. I-I’m just a little baby and I need my… my daddy to tell me what to do.” You pause and beam, looking at him through your phone screen proudly, “how was that?”

He nods approvingly, “you’re a natural, baby. Now why don’t you put Fluffy between your legs so he can kiss your other lips?”

Your jaw drops, and yet you feel yourself clench at his words, “What??”

“Come on, sweetheart. Do it for daddy. I’m not here to give you your special kissies down there, which means Fluffy has to do it, right?”

“Special k-kissies?”

“That’s right. Little baby girls like you need their special kissies or else you’ll disappoint your daddy.”

You glance down at your pyjama shorts which are soaking wet. Despite you feeling awkward, you also felt immensely turned on by each word that came out of his mouth. How he was ordering you to do these depraved things… How he was talking to you all condescendingly like you were a baby… Oh, you didn’t want to disappoint him!

Slowly, you spread your legs and press Fluffy down against your clothed mound. You make sure to pan your phone downwards so Ari can see, and he groans appreciatively. His thumb strokes the head of his dick before he moves his hand up and down, now leisurely stroking himself as if he wants to savour these next few moments.

“That’s right, hump your sexy little baby pussy against your toy. Doesn’t that feel so sexy, baby?”

You nod, “feels good, Ari—I mean daddy. It feels good.”

“Damn right it does, daddy always knows what’s best for my little baby.” He runs his hand through his already dishevelled hair. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got a dark, determined look on his face as he continues to jack off, his eyes glued on you.

“Ride your little stuffie just like that,” he murmurs, “get that pretty baby pussy all wet and slippery and worked up, ready for my daddy dick. How’s that sound, princess? You ready for daddy’s dick?”

You bite your lip again, this time in pleasure as you continue to rub your pussy against the stuffie, “I think so. But you’re so big…”

That makes him smile, and he pans his camera down again to show you his fat, angry red cock. He’s got a huge vein running down it, and you get the sudden urge to lick it. God, he was so big! And thick too! You feel giddy and scared at the thought that he might actually be your first…

“H-How many girls have you slept with, daddy?” you ask shyly.

“Only a few,” he snorts, his tone vague before the glint in his eye returns. “I think I’ll only be able to fit my big dick halfway through your tiny snatch.” He says, “What do you think, baby?”

You nod, “I agree, you’re—uh— super big, daddy.”

“Mmhm, but you’d love it even more if I held you down and forced my fat cock inside your baby cunt till I’m all the way in, so deep you can feel me in your fucking womb, wouldn’t you?” he lets out a string of curse words as he pumps himself, “Tell me you’d like that.”

“I would!” You cry, feeling like you’re so, so close to cumming, “d-daddy, I—”

“Shhh, baby girl. Daddy knows,” Ari’s watching you like a hawk as your movements grow more and more desperate, your hips rutting against your poor stuffed lamb. “Put your phone up against your pillow or something, so I can watch you ride your toy properly.”

You do as he asks, no questions asked. And it’s times like this where you feel extremely lucky that you don’t have a roommate. And you hope Ari doesn’t either.

“Yeah, just like that. Get your toy all wet, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Ari spits down on his palm before resuming to pump his cock, “bet you wish it was daddy underneath you like that, don’t you? Bet you wish I was eating your cunt just like that.”

You fist the sheets, trying not to look at your stuffie as you straddle it, humping it like a wanton whore.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A few strands of his brown hair flip over his forehead, and he pushes them back impatiently, “Riding your daddy’s tongue, rubbing your baby cunt all over my face while you hold your little stuffed animal and cry like a baby ‘cause it’s too much for a little girl like you to handle.”

“Oh, I’d really like that!” you cry out, the pleasure within you mounting as you continue to breathlessly rub against your stuffie. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, but he’s painting such a vivid, hot picture with his words that you can’t help but agree. “W-Wanna ride you so bad, daddy. Would be so much – ah! – so much better than Fluffy!”

Ari smirks, “Damn right, it would. And tell me how you’d dress up for me, baby.”

“Would wear anything you want me to!”

“Yeah? What about a pretty pink princess dress? You’d wear that for daddy?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“A cute and flouncy one, where your cute little ass pokes out every time you bend over in it,” he grunts, leaning forward as his pumping gets faster, “Your bare ass just begging for a hard slap – fuck! Tell me you’d like that!”

“I’d love it!” you agree quickly, your whole body on fire just from his words. But then, despite everything, a thought occurs to you, “B-But, daddy. I don’t have a flouncy pink dress like that.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you one.” Ari promises. “But first, you need to take your shorts off for me.”

You don’t even object this time. The fabric of your pyjama shorts is all wet and sticky against your pussy, so you quickly discard them before resuming what you’re doing. And you can’t help but throw your head back and moan embarrassingly loudly, because the stuffie’s fur catching against your bare clit feels heavenly. You circle your hips against Fluffy with renowned vigour, all while Ari watches you closely with carnal eyes.

“Show me your ass,” he orders you softly, and yet there’s a note of authority in his tone, “show daddy your cute little baby ass, sweetheart.”

You grab your phone, scrunching your eyes shut as you twist awkwardly, pointing it to your ass. But your heart skips a beat when Ari groans in appreciation.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a cute little butt, princess,” Ari murmurs, his gaze on you intense. “I bet it jiggles all cutely when you slap it, huh?”

“I – ah! – I dunno…”

His dark eyes flash, “Slap your ass for me, princess.”

Oh gosh, how embarrassing! You hesitate, “I…I…”

“Do it. Do what daddy tells you,” Ari runs his tongue over his lips, “I’m in charge and I know what’s best for you, sweetheart. Don’t disappoint me. Spank your little baby ass for daddy.”

You do as he asks, so completely under his control that you just can’t think straight. All you want to do is chase your own pleasure as you continue to ride your stuffed animal, and listen to the dirty talk coming out of Ari’s mouth. You gingerly slap your ass lightly, and Ari moans in appreciation before ordering you to do it harder. You comply once more, you’re so close to orgasming that you don’t even think twice.

“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby. God, I wish I could spank that cute ass of yours myself. Next time I see you at a party, I’m bending you over my lap in front of everyone. You’d let me do that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You’d have agreed to anything at this point.

“Damn right. And I’d flip your skirt over and spank your bare ass in front of all my fucking friends, because you’re my property and I can do that, can’t I?”

“Y-Yes! Ari, I’m so close!”

“Oh yeah, baby? Cum then. I’m not stopping you.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you don’t stop moving your hips, imagining your riding his thick cock as you cry out in pleasure. And you can hear Ari talking you through it, calling you his good little girl, telling you that daddy’s so proud of you, that you’re doing so well, that you’re so good at following instructions. And fuck, you’ve never been this wet before, and you’ve never cum this hard before. It takes you a good few minutes to recover, limbs shaking and your core so sensitive.

Once you finally regain your senses, you peer shyly at your phone once more to see Ari throwing away a wad of tissues.

“D-Did you…?”

He snorts, “After that show you just put on? Of course I did.”

Heat rushes to your face, a part of you disappointed that you missed out on watching him orgasm because you were too wrapped up in your own pleasure. “Oh. Wow, okay.”

Ari grins, “Look at you, all shy all of a sudden. Cat got your tongue, baby?”

You purse your lips and stick your chin out defiantly at him, “No! Just… Tired is all.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, “Tired, huh? So then I shouldn’t come over tonight?”

Tonight? But it was so late! And yet your pussy thrums at the thought.

“Y-You wanna come over?” You breathe.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I gotta touch you in person, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep the whole night.” He flashes you a cocky smile, and you watch in awe as he zips his jeans and pulls a shirt over his head. You can’t help but bite your lip. God, he was the most attractive, hottest guy you’d ever seen in your life!

“So, you gonna text me your address, or what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

So like… when I get horny, I tend to write things like this. ANYWAYS, lemme know what you think! Love you guys! This was sitting in my drafts for ages and finally I decided to finish it! 🩷🩷🩷

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #steve rogers #chris Evans #steve rogers x reader #daddy

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

-

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

#yes nick is nick brady from paradise lost #i couldnt help myself #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic

[songmingisthighs]

Temptation Touched My Tongue

group : txt

pairing : perv devil!soobin × reader

genre : fantasy, smut

wc : 3.5 k

warning : explicit smut, unprotected sex (nopity nope), pervert behaviour (peeping), masturbation (f), unrealistic depiction of sex ???, soobin is desperate and depraved idk he's nasty but he couldn't help himself :(, dubcon (??), monster cock!soobin, i do not know how to label this shit because i suck at labeling and i do nawt know what this crap falls under. possessiveness?, toxic idea of 'belonging', a wee bit blood ?? (nothing major like the shinning's elevator scene, it's literally a bite to the lip). idk anymore man

a/n : i need to stop starting new shit at 3 am and just get the fuck to sleep

buy me coffee ?

The night was amazing.

You finally went out on a date with the cute guy you met at a library. And when he dropped you off back home, not only did he promise to call you and set up a next date, but he also kissed you. Choi Soobin was beyond your expectations. Outside, he looked soft and kind but his mouth. Damn his talented mouth, especially his tongue. It surprised you how his tongue felt like warm honey that melted when it tangled with yours and you swore you tasted sweetness as you two kissed.

Choi Soobin affected you so much from his kiss that you now found yourself on your bed, legs spread wide open with your finger furiously rubbing your clit.

"F-fuck," you moaned as you flick your bundle of nerve, making your thighs tremble as your muscles tighten. As you continue pleasuring yourself to the thought of Soobin and his talented tongue in your cunt, pleasuring you which hopefully would pleasure him too. The sounds you were making were loud and obscene but you lived alone so no one would complain about your obnoxious moans this late nor did you have to worry about anyone barging into your room to see you bare naked. Honestly, you were rather embarrassed that you were pleasuring yourself to the thought of your date, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn the lights in your room on. But what were you supposed to do? Since the kiss, your body was burning up and you just had this urge and Soobin's name repeated over and over in your head along with explicit imaginations. Specifically over his cock. You wondered about his cock, what it feels like and how it looks. The thoughts just kept pouring in but you can't stop, your body couldn't stop your desire for Soobin and it was pathetic, you felt disgusting. Tears began pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision. Which was unfortunate because you would've been able to see the man outside your window panting like a dog, eyes glued to your glistening cunt as his hand grabbed onto his cock from his trousers.

Soobin knew he targeted the right person when he saw just how pretty you looked with the remnants of tear that glittered in the moonlight and the flush on your skin that made you look adorable. Plus, as a devil (literally), he could feel how hot your body was for him. He knew that you were thinking about him, imagining him doing things to you, but he couldn't do anything until you gave him verbal consent. You have to call out for him even just a tiny bit and Soobin hoped to listen to you call for him, acknowledge your want for him so he could have his way with you. All of the ways he could think of.

"Baby, baby please," he moaned, hands pressing against the window next to his warm cheek. Soobin let his tongue loll out, allowing his pants to fog up the cold window. "Baby, I want you, please I need to have you, I need to taste you," he begged, fingernails scratching the surface of the glass hard enough that streaks appeared in their wake as the devil drag his fingers down like a cat trying to claw his way in. The bulge in Soobin's pants was starting to hurt but the pain just drove his desire for you even more. It was as if his confines were a reminder that without you, his release seemed pointless, futile even because it wasn't you. For him, it's you or no one whatsoever.

Just as Soobin was about to make his presence more known (despite how risky it is in case you rejected him), he saw your legs clamp shut and your body arching beautifully. Soobin was truly mesmerized by the way you looked, his jaw was dropping in amazement. He could only imagine how you would feel as you cum, cunt clenching on his cock with a vice grip. Soobin started to get dizzy with possibilities because he was seeing you cumming before his eyes. Oh how he wanted to lick your slick away, remove the trail it created and replace it with a trail of his spit. He wanted to make you his officially.

And then it came. The moment Soobin has been waiting for.

"Soobin, fuck, please, I want your cock in me," You whimpered, letting some tear drop from your eyes.

For a moment, Soobin's breath caught in his throat (not that he needed to breathe, it was just a habit at this point), unable to move as he was too surprised to process what he had just heard. Then he felt it, he felt the pull that was planted by the temptation that had taken over your body, the very driving force that caused you to need to masturbate to the thought of Soobin. The same temptation he ever so gently placed on your tongue, the sweetness of sin that you succumbed to.

"Finally."

Without wasting a second, Soobin made himself appear in your room, completely naked with only his glowing orbs made completely visible in the darkness.

You were trying to catch your breath as you contemplated why the fire within you hadn't died down. There was a slight relief when you managed to make yourself cum but for some reason, the desire only doubled. "Fuck, I need something," you grunted, sitting up on your bed to calm yourself down slightly so you could hopefully walk out of your room to grab a glass of water without needing to rub one out again. But when your eyes focused on the objects in your room, you gasped when you saw the silhouette of a tall man standing in the shadow of your room. "What the hell!?" You screeched, grabbing your blanket haphazardly from between your legs to hopefully cover your breasts and cunt that was still leaking arousal. "Get out of my room!" you told the person, pointing at the direction of your front door. For some reason, your words sounded half-hearted even to you. The man looked very familiar even though it was just his silhouette and you knew you should be afraid of his glowing eyes, but you couldn't find it in you to actually be afraid. If anything, you were drawn to them. The more you looked straight at them, you more you could make out the golden specs.

The figure chuckled darkly, effectively breaking your train of thought. "Oh honey, my sweet sweet dumb girl, how could you tell the person you just thought of as you made yourself come to go away?" To say that you were surprised when the man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight was an understatement. Your mouth hung open to protest, ask if it was really Soobin, contemplate if that was the same Soobin who you just went on a date with, tell him that you think it was a dream, anything. But you can't seem to say anything. It was as if your mouth wasn't cooperating with your brain. You weren't sure what you were looking at exactly because you were still trying to figure out why your date is in your room. Then you accidentally looked lower, straight to his monster cock that's standing upright. The tip reached his belly button and God you wanted it in your mouth. In your pussy. You want to be the one who made it cum.

Soobin felt his chest swell with pride from the way your eyes were hungrily staring at his cock. Be it his influence or your own desire for him, Soobing felt his dick twitch when the hand that was holding your blanket up to shield your nakedness from him lowered to reveal your breasts before it dropped completely to reveal your clenching cunt and parting legs as if inviting him to nestle there. A smirk bloomed on Soobin's face and he couldn't help but start pumping his dick, coaxing pearly white liquid to leak from his slit. Your tongue darted out automatically as if wanting a taste and your hips rolled upwards. The movement somehow made your arousal become more prominent on Soobin's nose. He could smell how needy you were and he loved it because it was him doing that to you, there was nothing else in your head other than him and the need for him to fuck you silly with his big cock.

"Didn't you say you want my cock? This cock?" When Soobin dropped to his knees on the bed in front of you, you instinctively sat up straighter and your knees bent a little higher. "Good girl, you're presenting yourself so well for me," Soobin smiled. The sight of him smiling at you was so ethereal, he looked like an angel but his words held nothing but the promise of sinful pleasure. The dichotomy of this man was thrilling, it left you wanting more before anything could even happen. How was that even possible?

"Is that where you want me to bury my cock in? Your dripping pussy?" he mocked, causing you to whimper in shame as you tried to close your legs, suddenly hyper-aware that your cunt was free for him to see. This displeased Soobin however. He let out a disapproving growl that was way louder than you expected, the vibration shot right through your pussy, and you couldn't help but clench. Easily, Soobin grabbed hold of one of your legs and pulled you closer to him, "Did I tell you to cover what's mine?" his angelic smile was replaced by a disdained scowl almost immediately. "N-no," you squeaked out. Again, as if it was a light switch, Soobin's expression changed to a more pleased one when he heard your reply. "At least my baby knows to respond to me. You're so good for me aren't you baby? You're made for me, that cunt is made for me," he said as he dropped to all fours and placed himself right above you.

Soobin could feel your breath hitch the moment his face came close to you. He was addicted to the way you shied away due to his size, both body and cock. Especially his cock. The memory of you eyeing his bobbing cock will forever be engraved in his mind. Despite the very sexual position you both were in, you somehow managed to maintain such an innocent stature at the sight of his cock lining above you, giving you a rough estimation of how far he would reach. Truly, if that moment was real and not a dream like you thought it was, you would need to receive medical attention come morning because he was definitely going to rearrange your gut.

Gently, Soobin cupped the side of your face and he let his thumb trace your bottom lip gently, "Will you let me fuck you now? Will you let me use my cock to pleasure you and then cum inside you to make you mine?" He asked with such genuine that it sounded more like a love confession than permission to fuck you. Your body tingled in excitement as your cunt fluttered at the thought of his cock splitting you open. Soobin's eyes watched your every movement, awaiting your response with much patience. Not that he minded anyway, he loved the sight of your tongue peeking from between your lips to wet the bottom lip slightly. To coax an answer out of you, Soobin even lowered his hips so his cock was resting on your cunt. You gasped when you felt the hard appendage slip between your folds and started rubbing, nudging your sensitive clit every so often while fulfilling its mission to be completely covered in your arousal. The feeling was dizzying, there was a slight painful edge as you were still sensitive from your previous release, but the heaviness was heavenly.

"Fuck yes, Soobin, I want you to fuck me and then cum inside me. Make me yours," you moaned out.

That was all Soobin needed to draw his hips back and push into your pulsing hole. The size alone was overwhelming enough to accommodate, you hadn't realized that his length seemed never-ending. As Soobin continued pushing inside, you wondered where you got the confidence to even let him in you in the first place. "S-Soobin!" you whimpered, eyes shutting as your body tried to curl inwards but Soobin was having none of that, he wanted to see you as he get his whole cock inside you. With steady hands, Soobin pushed your body back by the shoulders. "You can do it, you're my good girl. MY good girl," he emphasized, wanting you to realize that as his good girl, you were going to receive everything he had to give you. It wasn't until your body started convulsing and your breasts pressed to his chest that he realized what was happening. Soobin stared at you with wide eyes and muscles clenching in response to your pussy clenching on his cock as you came on him hard. The suddenness of your orgasm caused Soobin to halt his pushing in order for him to witness you coming undone just from him trying to get himself inside you. Your nipples rolled against his smooth skin, inviting him to take hold of one breast in his large hand that immediately rolled one pebbled peak between his fingers expertly. The stimulation was so overwhelming that your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you didn't even realize that Soobin had taken advantage of your orgasm-hazed state and slick to push himself all the way until you felt him nudging your cervix. "Fuck, Soobin! S-so big, so g-good," you stuttered, hands finding their way to his back, scratching his fair skin as if to emphasize your fucked out state. The sting from the scratch was welcomed with a deep grunt from Soobin who closed his eyes as he paired the pain and the pleasure from how hard your pussy was gripping him. In his mind, it was proof that even your body didn't want him to go anywhere, it wanted him to stay nestled like that because you truly are his.

Your mouth hung open when Soobin started rolling his hips, pulling slightly back before pushing in again experimentally. You let out a long moan at the first snap of his hips which made Soobin chuckle, "Does it feel good, baby? Do I feel good? Am I filing you up?" Soobin knew the answer but he desperately wanted to hear it directly from you, he wanted to see you replying to him like the good girl you are. You nodded furiously at his question, "I-I can feel," you gasped loudly when Soobin hit a particular spot that made your knees snap around Soobin's slender waist, "I can feel you everywhere, Soobin!" Your hips rolled upwards to meet his hovering one as your hand dropped to begin a trail from where you and Soobin connected, "I can feel you in my pussy," your hand then moved up before it rested on your stomach, "And in my tummy," you moaned. It was barely anything, but the simple use of the word 'tummy' made Soobin exhale shakily, eyes blaring before he grabbed your knees and pushed them apart as high and as wide as they could go.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy."

That was the last thing you remembered clearly before Soobin started pistoning inside you. If you thought you were loud when you were touching yourself, now you straight up sound like you were murdered. Well, you believe part of you was anyway. "S-Soobin!" You squealed loudly, hands now finding purchase on his wide shoulders. Soobin couldn't even respond to you as he was enjoying your cunt. He had a manic look on his face; a crazed smile with his tongue lolling from the side, drool dripping from his watering mouth to your skin, slobbering all over you like a dog at the sight of his favourite treat. Which technically was true, you were his favourite treat and he once again felt glad that he chose you.

The pace he was going was purely animalistic, a speed that can't be achieved by a human being and it was only then that you considered that Soobin might not be human at all. He was too perfect, too sinfully perfect to be just a human being but you couldn't seem to care, you couldn't find it in yourself to find it wrong if he was indeed not a human being. In fact, the mere thought got you chasing his lips, frantically pulling him down so your lips could meld together. It was the sloppiest sex you've ever had but you didn't mind, you couldn't seem to mind. Not even when you heard your dripping pussy squelch or felt spit run down your chin, especially not when Soobin hit that one spot that got you seeing stars and toes curl. The sudden hit caused you to bite down on Soobin's bottom lip, drawing a bit of blood that you instinctively licked away. If Soobin wasn't whipped for you before, he was definitely beyond whipped for you now.

It didn't take much for the tension to build back up in your body, a sign of your oncoming orgasm. Above anything, it was rather understandable that you would be cumming once again so quick as you had orgasmed two times before. But you still felt embarrassed that it came so quickly. So you detached your lips from Soobin and looked away with your eyes shut, willing yourself to not cum just this. Unbeknownst to you, Soobin didn't like you separating from him if he didn't initiate it because he knew if he initiated it, it was because he wanted to do something more. So he sat back on his heels, the movement made him pull his cock away slightly which managed to jolt you up in surprise. You saw the scowl on his face and before you could even ask him what was happening, he had expertly flipped you over on your stomach without pulling out before resuming his abuse on your cunt.

"How dare you pull away from me! You, who was thinking over me while you were touching yourself," he growled menacingly. You couldn't see his face but you felt how displeased he was simply by how he was treating you. "I'm sorry Soobin, I-" You couldn't even let him know why you pulled away because Soobin had slapped you on the ass harshly that you were sure you'd feel it when you sit down the next day. "I don't need your pathetic excuse," he scoffed as he shifted your legs into a position he wanted, "Remember that you're mine, baby, you don't get to do things your way anymore," you could practically hear the smirk on Soobin's voice and frankly you found it hot. He had managed to slip your right leg between his legs as your left leg was bent to the side with his left knee anchoring under it. "I'll make you not forget that you're mine," he said as he grabbed your arms and used them as anchors on both sides of your head.

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#cultofdionysusnet #sandsofirenet #kflixnet #txt #txt scenario #txt scenarios #txt smut #txt au #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt fanfic #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop fanfic #soobin #soobin smut #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin au #choi soobin #txt soobin #txt soobin smut #smt scenarios #smt imagines #smt smut

[dontbelasagnax]

*curling like a cat against your ankles* Lasaganie, more Codywan headcanons?? 🥺👉👈 (only if you gave them/want to share of course. thank you, you’re amazing and I love you :3c)

I am late but I come bearing gifts in the shape of the codywan headcanons you asked for!!! And I love you too 🫶

- In a no order 66 setting, Obi-Wan has a caf mug that he considers to be Cody's. This would be normal except Obi-Wan bought it during the war and always meant to find the occasion to give it to him but never got around to it. That's to say he's exceedingly normal about this cup. Especially when Cody starts spending time around his apartment and Obi-Wan serves him caf in it. For the first time. Then all the other times as well. Feeling his heart crack open seeing Cody with His Designated Mug. A mug Obi-Wan's perhaps had too much time to place too much sentimental value onto. He's perfectly normal about it and doesn't act weird at all.

(more headcanons under the cut. it's a bit long)

- Cody is a hopeless romantic but won't ever admit it. He loves romance novels and holofilms. From trashy to highly acclaimed, sweet to stuffed with depravity, he enjoys them all. They're just a spot of escapism for him. A fantastical tale to distract himself from the toll of war when the night cycle is quiet and grief is loud. The stories are all so wildly outlandishly unrealistic to him. He's a clone. There's no future for him outside his role in the war effort.

And then one fateful campaign they're on their feet for a full tenday before they encounter an outcropping with flora and fauna that, finally, aren't actively trying to kill them and they are able to set up a tentative base of operation while planetside.

General Kenobi insists everyone rest while they can. Cody lost his bedroll to some sort of carnivorous plant along the way. General Kenobi acts like it's an affront to his very livelihood when Cody tries to sleep on the ground of their shared tent. Cody is tired. He doesn't have the energy to fight back on something so stupid. Which means they have to share a bedroll. His general's bedroll. Where they're physically incapable of both laying on the little mat unless they're plastered together. Cuddling.

It's the best sleep of his life.

...Exactly like how the romance novels describe it.

He's not dumb. He's been aware that he's in love with his general. He just thought the romance novels were all embellishing to a ridiculous degree and none of it was actually... realistic.

But if the romance novels are right about this, what else is just as magical in reality?

And maybe, just maybe, could there be some hope for a glimmer of a chance for him to pursue something else with Obi-Wan after the war, if they both make it that far?

- I am fully of the belief that, in a Tatooine husbands setting, the husband bit is a complete accident. Ben is stopping by for a quick pantry restock at the Pica Oaisis marketplace when it happens. He's lived at his hut long enough for the vendors here to have a familiarity with him so it's not exactly a surprise when one says to him, "Who's the shadow of a fella that's hangin' with you lately?" They mean well, he knows. And still, it's his business. He thinks his answer is quite crafty.

He says, "He's my partner," and leaves it at that. Partner could mean anything. Alas, either an older man living in an isolated hut with another older man implies a particular thing about their relationship or the vendors have a flair for the romantic because he quickly comes to discover on his next trips to the marketplace that he has a husband. Of all the assumptions one could make, it's certainly the most harmless and... he finds he likes it. Being seen as Cody's husband. It's all awfully embarrassing and he doesn't dare tell Cody any of it.

Cody discovers it for himself a few weeks later on a solo trip to the market to pick up some feed for Rooh.

"Here to do your husband's bidding?" a vendor asks and Cody blinks.

He blinks again. "Come again?" he says.

"Ben your husband; you're running his errand?"

His first instinct is to correct them, tell them he and Ben aren't married. But how would he even begin describe their relationship? After a few seconds deliberating he decides he's better off going with it. What harm could it do? Besides, on the ride home, he finds he kind of likes it.

And that's how they become husbands. Well, the beginning of it, anyhow.

#....🐀 #codywan #ask box #lasagna rambles

[bisexualhomelander]

F O R C E D F E M I N I S A T I O N | B U T C H L A N D E R

Billy runs his mouth.

Part of Billy should have known the joke would come back to bite him in the arse sooner than later. He shouldn't have invited the supe in at all, but definitely not with the offer of watching him have a wank. Homelander felt he had a foot in the door now, and if Billy had put that kind of depravity past him, he's probably dumber than he thought he was.

The sonic boom woke him up, and as much as he simply wanted to close the blinds on Homelander, curiosity did get the better of him eventually, and he opened the balcony door.

Before he had even asked to what he owed the pleasure of the late-night company, the supe had already pressed a few banknotes into his hand, and Billy instinctively tightened his fingers around them despite his bewilderment. "You said ten dollars to watch you jack off. What do I get for a hundred?"

Billy huffed in amusement, even if there was a bit of sound behind the huff. Shock that he couldn't quite conceal. Was he being propositioned?

Homelander had a smirk on his lips. "I'm serious. William. I can feel your blood pressure, you know? That includes knowing where your blood is, right now. Had I stayed last time, who knows how we'd have ended up."

Billy swallowed all the other choice words he had for the man and stared down at the money in his grip. "If you think you can buy me, cunt, think again."

"If it hurts your pride, fine." The supe plucked the dollars back out of Billy's fingers and threw them into the air. Billy watched them sail over the balcony and out of sight. That would make some lucky bastard's night. Not his problem. He didn't have to pay that out of his pocket.

Alright, supe wanted to play. He could have that, surely. Billy could almost feel the moment his brain turned itself off. He'd feel the consequences of his actions some later date; for now, he didn't want Homelander to think he won by flustering him. Sure, he was half-hard. Why not go all the way and hate himself for it once he was alone again? So he put on his most charming, shit-eating smile and replied: "Shitty pickup line there, luv."

Homelander's face was wiped blank for a moment before he could reign in his emotions at the sudden pet name. Point for Billy.

"See? That's how it's done. Now come in. Freezin' my bollocks off here, and I'm of no use to you if that happens, hm?"

Homelander had his bearings again and gave him an amiable smile, hiding his teeth. Why did the cunt always seem like he had something with an unpleasant taste in his mouth? Was that jaw ever slack?

"Not really that into cocks, if I'm honest."

Homelander chuckled. "And? Neither am I. Will that stop you?"

"Nah, it won't. But we're gonna do it my way."

"Fine by me." Homelander came inside and closed the door with his gloved hand. He even cleaned his boots on the door mat. "Bedroom's this way, I assume," he said and began to saunter off in the correct direction. Fucker had clearly x-rayed the apartment before, and Billy prayed it had been when he'd been here last and not right before he'd swept in to watch Billy sleep.

"We ain't goin' to the bedroom here, luv." It was likely impossible to actually surprise the supe. Last time, Billy had not even seen him fly off. Homelander moved at the speed of light, and so he must have seen the assault coming from a mile away, but it spoke to how much he wanted this that he let it happen anyway. Billy had him up against the wall in one smooth movement, and Homelander's legs were riding high on his waist like it was natural. "My way, remember?" Billy smeared the words against the supe's lips like spit and greedily drank down the answering whimper. "And if I say cock isn't what I'm looking for tonight, that's what goes, a'right?"

"You can fuck me if you want to," Homelander panted. He was lighter than Billy had imagined. Holding him up cost little energy, and Billy wasn't even properly awake. For a split-second, he wondered if he was still dreaming.

"Not into cocks, my arse. You're downright begging."

"I'm not begging for anything." The hand around Billy's throat had crept up so suddenly that it did shock him into silence for a second. "I won't beg on my knees for the right to see my son, and I will certainly not beg you to fuck me. I chose you for tonight because you are a disgustingly filthy excuse for a man who has no dignity left for his sorry life, and I knew I could get you if I wanted you. And here you are. So if you want me to leave your body intact, you better get your ass in gear and get me off."

With every ounce of willpower, Billy forced a swallow against the fingers pressing down. The grip loosened. They still held eye contact, and neither of them blinked first. Homelander was giving him a way to get his piece in. Well. Why not.

"You babble on like a woman, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Goin' on and on about things I don't wanna know. Gnawing my ear off here, mate." He leaned forward a bit, happy to see the supe's eyes dart to the left and right in an attempt to focus on both of his eyes. It made Homelander break the unblinking eye contact, lids fluttering rapidly. "Like a girl."

They were pressed together from the tips of their noses, to their chests, to their bellies, so it was easy to actually feel the way the cunt's cock throbbed at Billy's verbal abuse. "Yeah, that's right, hm? You wanna be my girl for the night? Daddy's girl?"

Up close like this, he saw the laser lights spring forth from Homelander's pupils first, slowly filling out the rest of his eyes. It looked fascinating from this perspective, even as the intense light immediately burned bright white spots into Billy's retina that he had to blink away. To anyone, it might have been threatening, but Billy was too worked up now, and he called the supe's bluff easily. "Bitching like you're PMSing, luv." He leaned his face into the heat emanating from Homelander's eyes to force his mouth open in a kiss. "Just from a bit of talking."

"Shut up-" The hand that landed over his mouth could have broken his jaw or taken it clean off, but Homelander knew how much pressure to use. Billy didn't think about how the supe had learned this. Or tried hard not to.

It wasn't difficult to pry the hand away and let the supe see his sly grin. "Gettin' shy already? Why you wanna shut me up so hard?"

"Nothing of value comes out of that mouth of yours," Homelander said.

"Oh, come now." Billy made certain to school his face into a disappointed frown. "You gonna lie to me? I can see you getting wet in that suit of yours."

It wasn’t wrong, exactly. There was a distinct dark spot where the head of Homelander's cock pressed into the fabric. Billy decided, however, that he liked the ambiguity of this game of his and wanted to see how much he could push the supe.

"Must be like a slip 'n slide between those legs."

"Don't-" Homelander began, but his body took over halfway into speaking, had him rub up against Billy like the mere mention of his arousal had reminded him of it. "Don't you ever shut up?"

Billy leaned forward to bite Homelander's ear. "You love it."

"I don't." Those baby-blue eyes tried to find Billy, and find him they did. Up close like this, he looked pretty. Innocent, somehow. The line of his mouth was still angry, but somewhere in the depths of those eyes lay something that wanted to give up and surrender to Billy. It was hypnotic.

Billy leaned forward and breathed his next word onto Homelander's mouth. "Liar."

Homelander whimpered when their mouths met, but he parted his lips readily and began to suck on Billy's tongue as soon as he had access, ashamed at his body's reaction and ready to shut Billy up. The supe tasted like absolutely nothing, not even toothpaste. It was almost unsettling, were it not for the wet warmth of his mouth that was like any other. What a weird thing to discover this fucker's humanity through.

Billy decided he'd had enough of the stalling and went to his knees. The supe's legs slipped from his waist in the movement; they were unsteady when holding up his weight.

Homelander willingly pushed his hips into Billy's hands as he began to open the belt holding the outfit together. He'd never seen the ins 'n outs of that. The suit wasn't one piece. It was a top and trousers that could be pulled down like leggins. Skin-tight and stuffed full of foam to give the impression of defined abs and pecs. Uncovering a bit of skin between the top half and the bottom half of the outfit felt like a forbidden pleasure, and Billy's mouth descended on an exposed hip bone before he even had time to plan out his move.

"Thought cock wasn't what you were looking to get," Homelander mumbled.

Billy huffed a laugh against the skin under his teeth and felt an almost nauseating flutter in his abdomen as shaky fingers held on to his shoulders. "Nah. I'm here for that pretty cunt you got hidden away." The fingers flexed and spasmed; Homelander's hips ground forward of their own accord.

Billy was so hard he felt dizzy with it, and he blinked to get his wits about him. He couldn't forget his mind completely. This was still none other than the monster who'd destroyed him - or the parts that were worth destroying anyway.

He pulled the ridiculous trousers of the outfit down to Homelander's knees and was met with...

"Red panties? You on the rag?"

"You're disgusting," Homelander commented, but he sounded so out of breath Billy considered the comment flattery.

"Gets you wet enough." The front of the supe's briefs was almost black with precum in the low light of Billy's living room. "Why give you pretty words when this gets the job done just fine, eh, bird?"

"Please." And oh, if that word didn't go straight to Billy's dick.

"Please what?"

Homelander squirmed, and Billy didn't help by blowing air on the wet spot where the cunt's cockhead was seen straining through the cotton. "Eat me-?" Shame clogged his throat, and now Billy did help out by leaning forward and rubbing his beard against an exposed thigh, earning something that came close to a mewl and finally got the answer he desired. "Eat me out. Daddy."

"Good girl." He pulled the briefs down to the rest of the way and went on to unzip the ridiculous red boots. The supe toed out of them so quickly he nearly tripped, and Billy made quick work of the rest of the clothes by pulling on them to let the cunt step out.

Half-naked, the masculinizing effects of the costume were visible. The clothed half of Homelander still looked imposing, but his naked legs were literal sticks. His ass round, but not nearly as firm as the outfit made it seem. Billy slid his hands up the back to cup the cheeks. "Leg on Daddy's shoulder, girl. Come on. Giddy up."

Homelander obeyed without complaint, like he was beyond words. Maybe Butcher had him where he wanted. And where was that even? In what universe did he want him? And was there still a remote chance he'd wake up hard and full of self-loathing?

Not much time to think about it when the current position spread the cunt's ass so deliciously and allowed Billy a good look at his hole. Fucker was shaved everywhere, it seemed, not a single hair more than necessary on him.

"Brazilian? Fine choice, princess."

"God, fuuuck." Homelander shivered, a foot pressing into Billy's shoulder blade with an amount of pressure that bordered on abusive. He'd get a bruise there. It drove him forward, though.

"Got the prettiest cunt I've seen." As if to prove a point, Billy lapped at the hole, huffing a laugh when he saw the muscle contract. "Look at that. Pinker than a virgin. Or is that it, huh? Anyone ever been where I am now?"

The silence was damning.

"Never had a man before." He held onto Homelander's thighs for leverage and pulled himself up again, shoving his face in for real this time.

Homelander's hand found his hair and pulled with surprising gentleness. It was an interesting contrast. Billy'd have sooner expected him to push him forward and not try to pull him backwards, but the cunt probably was lost to the pleasure and didn't remember how to move in any coordinated fashion. And they'd barely started.

He lapped at the furled muscle, relishing in the way it spasmed against his lips. As much as Homelander kept complaining, this he could hardly deny. This was his body talking.

No denying it; Billy'd always been an ass man. Something about getting his tongue in there had been appealing since a young age. The filth of it, sweat and musk. The embarrassment of his partners when they realized how much he loved inhaling all of it. Like a bloodhound.

Not with him. He was clean, no sweat, no smell. But aroused all the same and opening up to Billy's ministrations. The thighs around his face quivered. The hand in his hair went from insistent to demanding. Homelander's body was putting out heat like a furnace, and it drove sweat to Billy's brow.

"Fuck," he could hear a muffled voice from above. Was the cunt covering his mouth to keep in his noises? Afraid there were fans in the apartments around?

There was definitely movement happening, and Billy just knew without looking that Homelander meant to touch himself. He pulled back immediately, licked his lips where Homelander could see and looked up at him with disappointment.

Homelander's hand around his own cock went still, and his eyes were wide. He's scared he's been bad, Billy realized, and the thought made his neglected cock throb. Fuck, he'd have to get out of those trousers. The strain against the zipper was gonna kill him.

Billy gently pried the supe's hand away from his erection. "Pretty birds like you only come from getting their snatch eaten."

Homelander let out a wet sound that might have been a gasp or a sob. His eyes were teary, and- was that a red gleam or was Billy just suffering the first effects of hypoxia from spending minutes between those cheeks?

"You're close anyway. No reason to abuse that pretty lil' bean of yours."

"My-"

"Your clit, luv." Billy dove back in.

He tried not to get too smug at the gasp that Homelander let out when he managed to work his tongue in again. He knew it wouldn't do much for this one, but he rubbed his face sideways against an inner thigh anyway. At least give the notion of a notion of beard burn to a cunt with impenetrable skin. Felt soft to the touch, though. Real lifelike.

His own drool dripped down his chin and onto his sleep shirt, but he didn't plan on wiping it off. Half the fun was getting dirty and besides- "Fuckin' dripping, babygirl. Gonna squirt all over Daddy? Is that it? You gettin' close."

Homelander's head fell back against the wall; Billy could hear the small thud. How he still had enough of his wits to not slam it back so hard he went through the wall was beyond him. Cunt's self control was so ingrained it was a downright sad business. Though Billy really preferred to live, most days.

He gave it his all, tongue-punching the cunt's hole until his jaw ached because he needed to feel him break, he needed it more than he needed to come. He grinned when he could feel the first small contractions in the muscle, the way Homelander's body began to seize. His muscles started trembling where Billy was holding on.

"Come for Daddy."

"Fffuck!" The supe broke above him. Billy was wise to pull his tongue out before that happened, but did push his thumb into Homelander's perineum for some extra stimulation.

There was a hand in his hair again, but it felt downright weak, barely grasping.

Homelander's leg slipped off him tiredly, and the supe blinked at him with mild confusion, glassy-eyed and dopey, but apprehensive. Billy was almost sure he mirrored the expression.

He hadn't even orgasmed himself, but there was a sort of mental clarity barreling towards him like a train, and he really, really wanted to close his eyes before the headlights of that thing hit him.

Homelander took the decision from him because when Billy did blink, the pile of clothes on the floor and the entire supe had vanished into thin air.

He sat on the floor for a good half an hour before his aching knees forced him to get up and he managed to wipe his mouth with fingers that were just a bit too unsteady.

#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #my writing

[darlingdekarios]

soothe this soul.

RATING: mature [canon themes] — LENGTH: 2,976 — Gale x DarkUrge [gn!reader]

CONTENT: hurt/comfort, trauma, set during act I after the goblin camp before adventuring onward, fluff [gentle touching, hand holding], self-harm, Gale talking Durge through big feelings, canon-accurate dark urge memory loss, mentions of corpses/blood, no pronouns used but reader is described as having nails/claws

Gale offers you peace in a moment of darkness.

Quiet is what you needed tonight - you'd decided that hours ago, practically the moment the day had started. Still not managing to get a complete night of sleep and increasingly unable to silence the depraved thoughts in your mind, just an hour beside the water of this camp before the adventure continued on tomorrow would have done you some good.

At least that was the conclusion you'd come to for yourself. Fate seemed to have other plans for your time, however.

Or perhaps it was the will of one singular man.

“I have noticed you often skip over introductions…”

There was something soothing about his voice that even you were not immune too, his gentle nature balancing your violent one like cool waters on a raging flame. If it was going to be anyone interrupting your alone time now, it was befitting to be him, at least. If it had been anyone else, who knows what the consequences could've been.

“Please, not now.”

Your voice was marred with the kind of pain he was familiar with - ever-present, unignorable. Spoken through gritted teeth, your lack of patience was evident in every syllable. He'd never tell you he pitied you, but that didn't make the statement true.

“Forgive my insistence…” his dulcet tone filled your ears like the flow of a river, sustaining and forever. If his words could replace the urges perhaps some of your problems would subside. “But if not now, then when? We can all tell you’re avoiding something. Wyll and I agree that -“

“It is wonderful to hear I am the topic of camp gossip."

“It’s not like that,” you didn't know previously that one human could sound so believable - so honest. Though some of your other companions had taken him hiding his condition as a lie you never had, understanding his reasoning and trusting him through it all. You had no reason not to trust him now. “We care. For you. I care for you a great deal. I see how it…whatever it is…wounds you and festers at your soul each time we are somewhere new.”

“What is your point?”

The defense mechanism like a rose's thorns - if they didn't get close enough they couldn't be hurt, and your sharp demeanor was without a doubt a way of keeping everyone far enough away from you to keep their blood from spilling.

Gale, with increasing insistence of late, seemed determined to feel the softness you could offer too - he could see it in the depths of your eyes, just within his reach. He'd not stop until he earned the chance to be delicate with you.

“That I want to know you,” even now he was so delicate - had anyone ever been so with you before? “That I want to help.”

You could've drowned in the pools of sincerity in his eyes.

It had been hard to hide Alfira, and even harder since not to come clean to Gale - with each passing moment it was increasingly difficult to ignore the new urge that had formed within your being, a new desire that influenced your decisions. You craved something you were almost certain was new - connection - and you yearned for it with him.

Honesty was the first step - in these things, it always was. With Gale, you were fortunate to have seen in the darkness that festered within him when he allowed you a glimpse at the Orb, feeling the familiarity of a deep abyss. Though you were quite certain the darkness within you was much worse, much more primal and instinctual in ways he could never be, it was some comfort that he could look at you like this now - sweating, shaking, and neglecting to give his words a fitting response - and hardly bat an eye.

But how long would that be the case if you opted for complete honesty, and at this point could you even stop it? If allowing him to see into the void was inevitable, why deny what came closer with each tick of a clock?

A deep breath prepared your lungs for speaking truths into the night that you wished to keep buried in the depths of your wretched, dark heart.

“You've heard me introduce myself as The Dark Urge. That is all I can remember of myself. I crave murder and death and…corpses. Piles of my victims bruised and bloody displayed like a museum…crimson pools running warm then cold…"

Your words trailed as you clenched your eyelids tight, your nails beginning to dig into the tops of your thighs, seeking the focus that sharp pain would bring - so deep that blood quickly began to paint the tips of your fingers and your thighs.

You often felt Gale's bravery was to be commended, far more than it was by your companions. He'd never seen combat, never needed to face violence head on and take it for what it was. And yet, despite his inexperience he was still fearless with you, one of his gentle hands reaching out to lightly rest atop your shoulder.

Taken off guard your nails stopped their assault on your own skin, eyes wide as your puzzled face met his - patient, understanding, eyes soft and lips pressed into a thoughtful line as he awaited you to fully return to yourself.

"But though my mind is overrun with voids and seldom dreams up more than pools of blood…I want to be more than that. I think I am more than that…or that I once was, perhaps.”

It felt wrong to speak against the Urges, like you were lying to yourself and pretending to be someone your instincts proved you weren't, but it was the truth - it was you, no matter how deep within you had to pull it from. Gale, no stranger to darkness within and the chasm of emotions it could construct in one's heart, recognized how hard it must be for you to be vulnerable - after all, he had been in that very position merely days ago.

“I think you’re more than that already, despite everything. And if you disagree then we shall work together to make you see yourself the way I do."

Every sentence he spoke was saturated in a promise renewed with each word. You could feel the pull of your eyebrows coming together tighter, an expression that would do nothing to aid the headache that raged within your skull, but the only one your face could settle on as you pondered what you'd done to deserve such a kindness.

If you did even deserve it.

"I’ll help you. Through any urge along the way, say the word and I am at your side."

You remained utterly speechless under the power of his words, your expression still every bit as pained and puzzled than it had been when he first interrupted your time alone. What bravery it took - the same echoed now as his hand covered yours atop one of your thighs, the warmth seeping into you, wrapping you like a blanket during shock.

A quiet sigh passed your lips, defeated and communicating so much more than what your words could. A gentle squeeze to your hand, the softening of his eyes - you'd not be surprised if this was some sort of spell, if you didn't know better.

“I just don’t know how many more people I can introduce myself to this way,” as you finally met his eyes in full he was struck by the sight of tears sparkling in your eyes, the façade abandoned allowing him to hear the shake to your voice as your breathing picked up. “You apologized for your improper introduction, yet it is I who can’t even remember something as fundamental as my name. I know I have one, I can feel the echo of it in my mind…but it's just not there. Or perhaps I was a monster never deserving of one.”

For all of your companions' issues, Gale knew that what you faced was unlike anything any of them could relate to. Being unable to remember something as basic as your name and only experiencing your past in bloody glimpses of wicked memories - there was nothing he could say, so instead he listened.

"And I worry that I will hurt one of you," each word pained you more than the last, each one adding to the risk that he would leave - that he would come to his senses and see you for what you were. He certainly seemed to be trying, judging by the intensity with which he continued to gaze into your eyes. "That I'll hurt…you, Gale. I don't want to hurt you."

Sympathy - feelings of pity or sorrow for someone else's misfortune. You could see it filling his eyes as he squeezed your hand again, moving closer without hesitation so his free hand could raise to your face. He caught a freshly falling tear with his thumb, a delicate touch you recoiled from, your eyes wild with question and panic for a moment before they glazed over, warming under his touch though you remained so frozen you weren't breathing.

Sympathy was joined by patience and hope in his eyes, and he waited, hoping. Unimposing and unintimidating, free of judgment - willing to be so until you gave a sign to be anything otherwise.

A stiff nod was good enough.

His hand cupped your cheek fully, the feeling of your skin against his always enough to bring the softest of smiles to his face, no matter how fleeting it was. Cherishing the new feeling for a moment he did little more than that beyond the gentle stroke of his thumb across your cheek for several moments.

No monster he had read of melted so under the touch of a human - leaning into his touch further, you continued to prove he was right about you.

"We all have monsters inside of us. That doesn't mean it's who we are," admittedly, it was hard for even him to find the right words right now - particularly with his focus on you, the warmth of your skin against his hand, the way your jaw was unclenching and your features calming. A quick glance confirmed you no longer clutched your leg, and for a moment your hands were not shaking - because of him. "And it's not who I think you are. No matter what your name is, no matter who you once were: I see you."

A sentiment echoed in your mind - had you ever been cared for like this? Whatever the truth to that question was, you could feel how addicting it could be to be soothed by him.

“You must be tired,” it was a lazy - and obvious - interruption, a distraction from falling much further into his delicate grasp, parts of your mind still fighting against vulnerability, an instinct that had probably always been within you not to trust trying to set you on edge again. “I don’t want to keep you from rest.”

If he was aware of the hint you dropped in trying to return yourself to solitude, he opted to ignore it - not out of disrespect for your wishes but in hope you'd change your mind, hoping his presence could offer an enticing alternative.

If offering his presence to you would bring you any amount of comfort, he had to try. If it meant he'd have to bashfully ask Shadowheart for healing before sleep found him - so be it.

“Your company is well worth a little less sleep,” he desperately hoped you wouldn't mind that he was trying to lighten the mood - when your features curled into the slightest smile, he decided it was actually what you needed. Whatever you needed of him, whenever you needed it. How funny his very soul had adopted that new mantra so fast. “Or a lot, depending on the evening’s activities. I'd be grateful to enjoy your company a while longer, if mine isn't unwanted."

Your smile spread a bit more, cheeks heating up over his flirtations, your heart fluttering faster in your chest as you avoided his gaze briefly, taking the steady breath your lungs had been begging for, repeating it once more for measure. He matched the second with you - just another way to show he was here with you, supporting you.

Even still, you could only nod your response for fear of the words that may leave your mouth if you opened it.

The thing about Gale - the thing that made it more near impossible with each day he displayed it - was that as much as he loved to tell you what he could offer you he loved to show you even more, even if it meant sitting in complete silence for the next couple of hours. The time passed calmly with him beside you like this, offering you a pillar of strength to lean yourself upon in both a figurative and literal sense, his warm hold irresistible.

He accepted you leaning your head against his shoulder as quietly as you offered it, wordlessly deepening the embrace by wrapping an arm around you. If that was all that was offered you'd not hear a complaint from him, the gentle affection more than enough to fill his stomach with butterflies and heart with what he hesitated to call love.

When one of your hands lifted to rest on his thigh, the hesitation was gone. Love - at its most basic definition, an intense feeling of deep affection. How could he even attempt to describe the way he felt toward you with any other word, not yet finding one in the many books throughout his life that would describe the feeling nestled in his chest as sufficiently.

The sun sparkling against the water turned to stars dancing across its surface instead, the noise of your companions behind you fading as what was clearly hours passed. Your eyes had been closed for a while now, so long that you didn't notice - or at least didn't move - when Wyll had approached with food, unknowing that Gale silently waved him off.

There would be food in the morning, his stomach could wait if that was the sacrifice for your comfort. Comfort which he hated to disrupt - though after a while, the hard ground was far too unkind to his aching joints.

"Are you ready to try for some rest?"

Your eyes opened and you twisted your head to look behind you, at the very companions who were now settling onto their own bedrolls or into their tents for the night. Even in the dim light he could see the trepidation in your face, sense the tension thickening the air around you again.

How desperately he wished to resolve it, offering the only solution his heart could think of before his mind could catch up.

"Perhaps alone tonight…in my tent, beside me?"

The Wizard of Waterdeep blushed the moment the proposition left his mouth, and you'd fallen for him all over again. You nodded, and in that moment gave him everything he needed as a thank you from you.

You were both exhausted, so the motions of returning to Gale's tent blurred together - he stood first, offering his hand to you and pulling you to your feet, hand staying in yours as you walked through camp. He shot Astarion a look of warning when the Pale Elf raised his eyebrow when you walked past, entering Gale's tent without a word.

Explanations would certainly be expected in the morning, a fact made clear by the vampire's expression as Gale collected your bedroll before joining you in the solitude of his tent, closing the flap to separate the two of you for a while. Soon enough, you'd both found what felt at least a little like a word that made you both feel sick for profoundly different reasons - home - as you lay beside one another.

It was a longing gaze - you were desperate to hold his eyes in the hopes you'd see them tonight in your dreams rather than debauched things you hoped weren't memories, while he was desperate to memorize your face as he remained ever-aware of the looming apocalypse in his own chest.

A pair of your hands met between your bodies, his resting atop yours, calming the subtle and ever-present shake. Thumb brushing against your knuckles, he lulled you back into a subdued state, happily indulging you when you asked him to tell you a bedtime story from Waterdeep.

Though he spoke, he was the one to drift off first, blissfully so beside you. No matter how safe it felt to be beside Gale, no matter how much warmth filled every bone in your body - sleep would still avoid you for a while yet, and you'd be left with your thoughts and his sleeping form.

As the night continued to grow darker, as would your heart — if you even had one — and mind. It was dangerous to tempt nature like this, a steak dangled on a stick before a wolf. He would make the prettiest corpse - his own blood would paint his skin like the fine canvas it was and you'd view it as the exhibit it was, art in a museum entirely curated for you. How beautiful he would look, how sublime, how utterly delicious…

Ultimately, the urge to see him lying beneath you as a beautiful, wide-eyed body was quieter than the urge to see his eyes honey in the fire and the tousle of his morning hair as he passed you breakfast, expression eager to see your reaction to a meal prepared by him. You'd sooner remove your own hands before you used them to hurt him.

Seeing his chest rise and fall as he slept tonight and hearing the ring of his laughter tomorrow was worth far more than anything your sick mind tried to force you to see.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#gale dekarios #gale bg3 #gale x dark urge #gale x durge #gale fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x dark urge #gale dekarios fanfiction

[digital-domain]

Demon’s Lair

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Chapter: 1/?

Synopsis: You don’t know how you got here, and you don’t know who he is. A demon, perhaps. One who makes no secret of how much he would enjoy killing you. If you keep him entertained, he’ll hold off… we’ll see how long that lasts.

Content Tags: noncon/dubcon (fuck-or-die), kidnapping, death threats, True Form Sukuna (with two cocks because I Like It), one part with a kinda predator/prey dynamic, face slapping, face fucking, blood, tears, forced masturbation, fingering, bondage

Note: I am aware that I am not the first person to have had this general idea. I am also aware that I always want more of it, and I would imagine that I am not alone. So if you are depraved like me - enjoy!

Your eyes flutter open. The last you remembered, you were on a deserted trail, perhaps half a mile from your home. It was far too late, you were alone, it was so dark that you could barely see the path you were walking - but you’d been okay. At least, you were going be okay. You had food in your hands, a straight path ahead of you, the promise of sleep awaiting you.

But your hands are empty now, and the trail is gone. In its place is a cavern. Dark rock walls looming over you, stones scattered across the hard ground, water dripping somewhere in the distance, and a strange red glow permeating the entire massive space. Your clothing - simple trousers and a tunic - is torn in several places, your carefully braided hair hanging loose about your face.

A hazy voice from your childhood rises to the top of your mind. “ Don’t play outside too late, or a demon will come take you away!” The phrase had been enough to send you running inside when you were a child, but it’s been years since you stopped taking it seriously. Not that you didn’t believe in demons - you just figured it wasn’t so easy to catch one’s attention. But…something unnatural has certainly happened here. There’s a darkness haunting this space, sending a shiver down your spine.

As your vision clears, you see the full picture. It’s not just stones littering the floor. Stones aren’t bleached white. Stones don’t make you shudder when you gaze upon them. And they’re not shaped like that.

The ringing in your ears begins to fade. It’s not just dripping water, either. There’s a whole river flowing, somewhere, and the cave walls themselves seem to be echoing the heartbeat pounding through your veins. Under that - an echoing set of footsteps. And they’re coming closer.

You need to move - but you don’t. You can’t. You stay on the ground, half-sitting, hot blood rushing to your face, until the footsteps come to a stop behind you.

When you finally gain the will to move, it’s too late. A sharp-nailed hand closes over the back of your neck and yanks you to your feet. You can’t see its owner, and when you attempt to turn your head, it - he? - presses its fingers to your cheek, holding you in place. When you try to speak - all that comes out is a confused whimper.

He laughs. “You’re unlucky.” His voice seems to bubble up from all around you, unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet space. “I got bored. And you got caught. It could have been anyone…” You feel another set of fingernails - too many of them - trickle over your thigh, sliding over a tear in the fabric that once covered you, digging sharply into the bare skin beneath. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed by what I dragged in.” He sighs. “Although I do wish you would say something. It’s no fun when you’re silent.” His grip tightens, nails pressing threateningly into your neck. “Speak.”

You say the only thing that comes to your mind. “Where… where am I?” Instinctively, you jerk forward, as if you’re trying to run away, but he easily yanks you backwards, pulling you into him, his body a hard wall against your back.

“Somewhere that no one leaves - without my permission, that is. And I seldom give it.”

“Who are you?” Your quick burst of motion has spurred you into action - you writhe and twist beneath his hand, pry at his fingers. He snakes his other arm around your waist, pinning you against him.

“That’s more like it.” He sounds amused. Terrifyingly casual. “It’s no fun if you don’t fight, either.”

He’s strong - as hard as you try, you can’t shift his grip an inch, and your attempts only make him laugh. You can feel panic welling up inside you, and you double your efforts, but it seems to make no difference. “Let me go.”

He clicks his tongue, leans over your shoulder. “I don’t think so. You’re far too entertaining.”

“Let me go.”

“Shh. I don’t like having to repeat myself.” He uncurls his arm from around your waist, and somehow - too fast for you to comprehend - grabs both your wrists in one hand, holding them high over your head. “You’re so weak. You’ve never had to fight for your life, have you?”

You try to wrench your arms away, tugging with all the strength you have, but it’s no use. His hold on you is unnaturally tight, his grip vise like on your wrists.

“No need to answer. I can feel the blood rushing under your skin. This is new to you…not as if it would make a difference either way.” Once again, you feel the impossible phantom sensation of more fingers brushing over your thigh. It doesn’t make sense - you hear another whimper escape your lips, and he releases your neck to muffle the sound, slapping his palm over your mouth. You try to scream, and throw your entire body forward, feet scrabbling against the rocky ground, but you go nowhere.

“I like that you’re trying. As pathetic as your attempts may be.”

You shake your head violently, and in response, he digs his nails into your cheek.

“It’s entertaining, if nothing else. And I’m not unreasonable.” All at once, he releases you and shoves you forward. You fall hard to the ground, face nearly shattering on the rocky surface. But you catch yourself - barely - absorbing the impact with your hands and knees, your entire body shaking from the shock. “I’ll give you a chance to escape.” He kneels down at your side, and strokes a gentle hand through your hair. “I’ll even give you a head start.”

You look up, catching a glimpse of his face before he presses yours into the ground. It’s a shocking sight, so much so that you assume it’s a trick of the light. The intricate set of dark markings scattered across his skin could be easily explained. Same with the strange placard covering part of the right side of his face - it must be a mask of some sort, though you can’t see how it’s fastened. But his eyes are another matter. You swear you saw a second pair staring back at you, tucked beneath the first. And his real eyes…even those were terrifying. They were too bright, too intense, narrowed by the ferocious smile painted across his face.

The air is squeezed from your lungs as he shoves you onto your stomach, scraping your cheek against the ground. He presses down hard, barely giving you the space to breathe, let alone move.

“When I release you, you’ll have ten seconds to move freely,” he declares. “I’ll even close my eyes.”

Ten seconds isn’t much time - you need a plan. But you’re dazed, disoriented, confused…even before he moves, you know you don’t have a chance.

“Not yet…” He taps his fingers sharply against your waist. “Not yet…” He grabs the back of your dress and rises to his feet, hauling you up with him. “ Now.”

You manage not to fall as he lets go, and stumble forward in the direction you’re facing.

“ Nine, eight…”

You’re sprinting as fast as you can, but the ground is uneven, and littered with things you don’t care to look at.

“Seven, six…”

Your eyes dart wildly around the massive space. There’s no way out. Not one that you can see, anyways. And there’s no time to think. You just need to keep moving. Keep running, and hide when you run out of time.

“Five, four, three…”

Keep running. A dark, narrow stream of water appears in front of you, and you leap over it. The far bank is slick, and when you land, you stumble. There’s a crunch beneath your feet.

“Two.”

You don’t stop to look. There’s nothing big around you - there’s nowhere to hide.

“ One.”

Just keep moving. You’ve made space. Eventually, there will be an escape. There has to be. This can’t go on forever.

“Time’s up.”

His voice…it’s close. Far too close to account for the seconds you spent running away. He’s somewhere to your left. You turn - and from your right, a hand lashes out, ensnaring you and sending you tumbling to the ground once more. This time, it’s his foot that pins you in place, pressing down on your spine as you wriggle helplessly beneath.

“That was disappointing,” he sighs. “You’re making this far too easy for me.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

“It’s incredible how fragile your kind is. If I’m not careful, I might actually break you.” He digs his heel into you, cackling as you cry out in pain. “Unfortunately, I don’t like being careful. It’s another one of those things that bores me.” He brings his foot up, and slides it under your stomach, effortlessly kicking you onto your back.

Your eyes have been squeezed tight - when you open them, his face is hovering over you. Both pairs of eyes stare malevolently into your own.

“I see that you’re done fighting. Probably a wise choice.” His voice is calm, and he’s smiling. It sends a shudder through your body. “But if you’ve given that up, you only have one option left.” His grin broadens, and he straightens up, standing tall, looming over you. “Get yourself up on your knees. I don’t like you lying down in my presence.”

Without a thought, you comply, rolling over and pushing yourself onto your knees, your head bowed. Your mind is numb, but you still know that obeying is your only choice.

“Good.” He pauses, takes a step back. “Now, I’ll be clear about my intentions.” He sweeps his foot across the ground, kicking a stray rock aside. It bounces through the cavern, every impact echoing across the walls. “Right now, nothing would bring me more pleasure than killing you.”

Your entire body stiffens. Your vision is hazy, scattered with black patches. And you can’t run. You already tried to run - and it only got you here.

“I’ve been thinking about all the ways I could do it,” he continues. “If I were feeling charitable, I would strangle you. But I’m not. I want to see blood. There are a lot of ways I could satisfy that desire - and some take longer than others.”

You’re fighting your body, trying not to keel over, tears suddenly obscuring your vision. When your captor notices, his laughter ricochets through the cave, vibrating across every inch of your skin. You have to look up. You have to see his face. Maybe you’ll see some reason for hope if you do. You raise your head - but you find yourself unable to look into his eyes. Instead, you find your gaze trailing up the length of his form, taking in small details, finding a strange calm in fixating upon them. He’s wearing a simple pair of sandals. A robe flows over them. The fabric is white with black designs, There’s a tie at the waist. Wide, flowing sleeves.

And that’s as far as you get. Once your gaze reaches the end of those sleeves, your small moment of tranquility is shattered, because out from under them protrude not one, but two sets of arms.

He talks like a man, but he isn’t. Everything you’ve witnessed - the eyes, the arms - it’s all impossible. But it’s real. You have to trust yourself. You know what you’ve seen. “What are you?”

He - it? - revels in your realization, a grin spreading over his face. “That’s a better question than your last two. But I’m not interested in answering it.” There’s a pause - he calmly tilts his head, thinking something through. “You’re so much fun… I don’t think I want to kill you quickly. I’ll enjoy it much more if I draw it out.” He sighs blissfully - almost theatrically. “It could last hours if I do it right. I’ll get to hear you beg for death long before you go limp in my hands.”

Your body jolts of its own accord, a last-ditch effort at escape, but you can’t find the control to bring yourself to your feet. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

“Oh, go on,” he sighs. “Beg for your life. But try to make it interesting. You all say the exact same thing, and it’s beginning to wear on me.”

“I…” Your mind is blank with terror, the few words you can summon rushing out of your mouth. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Your tears flow down your face, build up in your throat, choke your words. “I don’t want to die. I want to go home. Please let me go home.” You tense at the swish of his robes - he’s stepping closer, cutting your time short.

“Boring.” He brings up his left hand (one of them) and strikes the side of your face. When you cry out, he repeats the action on the other side. Then, he takes your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, and brushes away a stray tear as it slides down your cheek. “Try again,” he commands. “I won’t give you a third chance.”

At the last possible moment, a strangely clear thought enters your head. There is no happy ending here. You can’t escape. All you can do is try to save yourself - by any means necessary. So, finally, you allow yourself to meet his gaze, resisting the urge to look away as he bares his teeth. “Do what you want with me. I’ll entertain you in any way you please.” He raises an eyebrow - you’ve managed to say something that interests him. But he wants more. “Let me…” You pause, and force yourself to breathe. In, out. It’s too late to do anything but this. You cannot go back. You have to finish. “Let me prove that I’m more valuable to you alive.”

A rumble of laughter echoes through the cavern, seemingly emerging from the walls themselves. “Fascinating.” He lashes out with one of his hands and wraps it tightly around your neck. “No one’s ever said that before.” You gasp for air, and he slaps another hand over your mouth. “You’re weak…but you have some resolve. I like that.”

You breathe shallowly through your nose, already light-headed, your pulse thudding against his palm.

“I think…” He pauses, staring you down. You don’t look away. “I think I’ll keep you.” The relief in your eyes must be obvious - and it doesn’t last long. “For as long as you can handle it.” Another hand springs out, twists its long fingers through your hair. “For as long as you’re alive…you’re mine. The moment you forget that - the moment you fail, or disobey - that’s when your life will end. Understood?”

You have no choice - you nod as best you can, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as he yanks at your hair.

“Good.” His voice softens, lowers to barely more than a whisper. “We’ll start with something simple.” He sounds almost kind, but you know it’s just part of the game. The fist still grasping at your throat is enough to remind you of that. “Undo the knot at my waist.”

Your hands shake as you bring them up, and you find yourself focusing on small details once again. The cuff of your sleeve is torn, and there’s a smudge of something dark on your left hand - residue from your fall. The knot you’ve been tasked with untying is simple. A single pull at one end unravels it. The fabric is smooth, soft, and there are layers to the robe. The last is made of fine silk, its shine reflecting the dark red glow of the cavern around you. It’s held in place by a silk band, tied with the same simple knot as the first…

When your eyes catch on the space below the knot, you feel a deep pit open up in your stomach. The silhouette before you - it’s wrong. Warped. Exaggerated beyond the point of making any sense at all.

“Haven’t you heard?” drawls the voice above you. “It’s not dignified to stare.” He presses his palm to the back of your neck, urging you closer. “Fortunately, I have no interest in preserving your dignity.”

This is not a man. You’ve seen how this looks on men. The shape he carves in front of you…it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before.

He inhales deeply, and brings up a third hand to trace the line of your jaw. “Go on. I know you’re curious.”

The words sting, because he’s right. You want him to disappear and never return, but for as long as he’s standing over you, you’re going to want to know. It makes you loathe yourself. Makes you want to bury your head in the dust beneath you.

“Don’t make me impatient.” He brings you closer by your hair, and the silk of his robe brushes the tip of your nose. “I have enough in store for you as it is.”

Your fingers flutter over the final knot, missing the end twice before you manage to grasp it. The fabric parts, and you see exactly what your imagination conjured, what you didn’t dare believe before witnessing it yourself. Two thick, vein-laden cocks, one directly above the other, half-hard and already bigger than any man’s should be. Each has two black bands under the tip, reminiscent of the markings on his face - you glance up, and see that his chest is littered with them too.

There’s a part of you that wants to look away. You hate the part of you that doesn’t, that keeps you staring.

He smirks, and plunges your face into him, dragging your cheek down one shaft, up the other. “Choose.” There’s a terrible hunger in his voice, and you can feel him stiffen against your face. “You weren’t made to take both... soon, you will, but today…” He exhales sharply, and runs a finger over your lips. “You get to pick your favorite.”

If he were to pry open your mouth and force himself inside, this wouldn’t be so humiliating. Instead, he drops his hands from your neck and your hair, and waits for you to move, both sets of eyes narrowed in silent mockery. Slowly, you expose your tongue, and - eyes screwed shut - brush it over the lower tip. You feel his hand pass above you, and the second presence seems to disappear. There’s no sigh, no shudder as your tongue drags up his length, no hand on the back of your head as you close your lips around him.

A subtle thrust - with his size, it’s enough to make you sputter. “Why are your eyes closed?” he muses. “Scared of what you’ve seen? Or scared that you’ll enjoy it?”

Your eyes snap open before you can help it, defiance glowing inside them for just a moment.

“Oh, don’t be offended. I don’t care either way. And if you’re struggling, I’m glad to help you along.”

You try to shake your head - too late. He knots his hand through your hair once again, gradually pushing you down until it’s too much and you can’t stop yourself from gagging, choking. You’re nowhere near the base, but it doesn’t matter. He’s too big for you, and he knows it, but he holds you where you are, unmoved as you instinctively try to pull back. You feel like you can’t breath - if it wasn’t suicide, you’d use your teeth to escape -

He pulls you up. You take a breath, and immediately have it pressed from your lungs as he tugs you forward again. Again, again - each time he seems to test you more, force more into your throat, and the more you struggle, the more violent it turns. A pair of fingernails slices your cheek, slashes through the tunic clinging raggedly to your shoulder, scratches at the skin beneath.

You can hear his heavy breaths, although you wonder whether he even needs to breathe, or only does it for effect. You need to breathe - there’s an odd taste in your mouth beneath the feel of his skin, the metallic tang of pushing yourself too far, but he gives you no time to ponder it.

He lets go of your hair. “Keep going. Prove yourself.”

You ignore the blood dripping down your cheek, ignore the pounding in your temples, and do as he says. No hesitation - you force yourself down again and again, as if you still have his hand at the back of your head, choking yourself on his cock.

“ That’s right.”

You’re crying - truly, fully crying - but you don’t stop to wipe the tears away, even when you feel them building up in your nose. Stopping is not an option. Failing…you can’t even think about what would happen then.

Two heavy hands fall upon your shoulders, knuckles tightening - you hold yourself still while he tenses, his cock wedged deep in your throat, stilling your breath completely. His grip is tight, controlled, until he’s emptied himself inside you, until you’ve swallowed every drop.

He recovers all too quickly, stepping back and hauling you to your feet.

“You have promise.” Without warning, he plunges his hand down your trousers, inside your undergarments, carefully stroking the pads of his fingers over the slit of your cunt. His eyes widen, and his lips curl. “And you’re wet …why is that?”

Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly. It doesn’t make sense to you, either.

“Embarrassed? Perhaps you should be. I was under the impression that this was a last resort for you. Not something you’d been craving…” He tugs at your trousers and the waistband beneath, leaving you bare to the knees, and drops you to the ground, presses you onto your back. “Touch yourself.”

“Now?” You hate how pathetic you sound, hate the way it amuses him.

“Yes.” He grabs your wrist, guides it between your legs. “Get yourself worked up for me. Looking at the state of you, I doubt it will take long.”

You’ve never done this with someone watching you. Your fingers are clumsy, slowly tracing over your body, your mind struggling to fall into the right place. When he clasps one hand over your eyes and another over your mouth, it gets easier - although you know better than to ever admit it.

“Look at you. Any sensible human would find this impossible. But you…you’re actually enjoying yourself right now.” You pause, and he slaps a third hand over your own. “Don’t stop. I want to see what this does to you.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, slides the hand to your inner thigh. “You’re terrified - those pretty tear-stains on your face are good enough proof of that. But there’s something in you that’s conflicted…” He replaces your slowly-moving hand with his own, pinching your clit between his fingers. “I don’t mind. It means I get to push you harder before you break.”

You squirm uncontrollably. This is pleasure and pain in equal measures, and the fact that you don’t really want it to stop sends a fresh wave of shame rolling over you. You try to ignore it. You know you have no choice. It was this, or a much more permanent fate. If you manage to enjoy a small part of it, that’s not such a bad thing…

“I think that’s enough.” He stops, and your whimpers are muffled as he flips you onto your stomach and presses your face to the ground. “Maybe I’ll let you try again later. For now…” He pulls your hands behind your back, brings your feet up to meet them, secures yours ankles to your wrists with the discarded ties from his robes. “You’re going to be unsupervised for a while. I don’t want you getting into any trouble while I’m gone.”

You’re not sure where he goes - you can’t bring yourself to lift your face until long after his footsteps have faded away. When you do, you topple onto your side, and stare cross-eyed at the blurred walls around you. You wonder if he only left to savor the feeling of cutting your pleasure short, or to give you time to imagine what he might do to you upon his return. It’s effective. You know that this was only your first test, and with nothing to distract you, you can’t help but picture what might come next.

Only a few paces from you, there’s a chilling sight - a human skull lying crooked on the ground, a jagged hole visible on its brow. When you see it, you’re newly aware of the cuts on your cheek, the sting of blood drying on your skin. He was holding back. Being gentle, by his own standards.

You’ll give everything you have to keep him that way.

#sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #dead dove do not eat

[he-calls-me-kitten]

His Darling Apprentice

Solomon's growing lust for his precious student GN! MC.

He thought it was curiousity and nothing more - this unprompted desire to see you every day. And you didn't disappoint. On the days he couldn't make it, you made sure you did.

Even if it was for 10 minutes between two classes, or dropping by Purgatory Hall on the weekends - your daily meeting was inevitable. He didn't realise how addicted he'd grown to it until it was too late.

It was as if his day didn't end until he had seen you atleast once, smiling and waving as you called out his name, rushing toward him when there was no need to. He wasn't going anywhere. He had simply grown fond of you, he decided.

It got worse, the more you became physically comfortable with him. Resting your chin on his shoulder to read his latest research, tackle hugging him when you finally got a difficult spell right, falling asleep on his lap during late night study sessions. On the days you didn't touch him, he lay sleepless at night.

⚜️

"Solomon! Right here, I've saved you a seat!" You waved to him as he entered the cafe. He smiled and let his body guide him.

It was such a natural thing now too. Whenever you both were in a room together, he'd come sit with you. And you never once, forgot to keep a place open for him.

"So this is the place Asmo is working at?" Solomon flinched at the overwhelming sweet scent in the room. You laughed. The best laugh he's ever heard.

"Yes it takes a while to get used to." You explained. "What else can we expect from a place that only serves desserts anyway, right? Oh there he is! Asmo!"

Solomon followed your gaze to see Asmo coming over to your table, holding two pink drinks on his tray. "Both my favourite humans came to see me! I'm so grateful to my beauty!"

"That uniform looks adorable on you. Is it comfortable?" You said, reaching out to touch the puffy sleeve. Asmo's response was a blur. Solomon's hand twitched involuntarily.

No, touch me instead.

He was shocked at his own thoughts. You literally live with seven other demons who fawn over you endlessly. He didn't think twice about it. Then why does he care now? And why was he imagining you in that cafe uniform too?

"Now here's the deadberry swirlie you two like so much. I added extra whipped cream for you, MC." Asmo winked before someone else called for him.

Solomon sipped from it, the sour and sweet of the drink refreshing his overcrowded brain. "It tastes as good as we remember it, doesn't it MC?"

"Yes. Just a tad bit too much whipped cream though." You laughed as you tried to clean the mess you'd made.

All around your mouth and fingers, dripping down your chin, traces lining down your neck and- Solomon shook his head to snap out of it. But you licking away at it was not helping his depraved spiraling thoughts, as he imagined something entirely unholy.

"Oops, you've got some on your chin too." You reached toward him, a dainty finger wiping off his skin. Your touch felt like a pleasant burn as he watched you lick your finger right after.

You realized none of it, but it was harder for him to keep up a conversation the entire evening.

⚜️

"Ah finally over!" You sighed in relief. "That was the longest assignment we had this term! Ridiculous! It's almost 2 am!"

"Oh come on, I'm sure you've tackled similar things in the human world." Solomon said, setting his paper down after the last revision. He chuckled to himself seeing you in such cute cat-themed pajamas.

"I doubt anything in the human world is tedious enough to make both Simeon and Satan fall asleep trying to finish." You said softly, glancing at the angel and demon asleep in their respective places at the shared table. You had kindly draped some blankets on them.

"Well atleast Operation Study Sleepover can conclude now." Solomon said, preparing to get up. "Now you go sleep on the bed, I'll take the couch, as decided."

He caught you pouting. You had really insisted on taking the couch instead but after a 3-2 round of rock, paper, scissor - you had to give into his rules instead. He tucked you in bed and watched you from the couch, making sour faces at him. Giving him the better blanket wasn't enough for you.

How can someone be this adorable?

He drifted off to sleep watching you twisting and turning in bed, trying to get comfortable. And when he woke up, there was a whole other suprise waiting for him.

"M-MC..." There you were, snuggled tight in his arms, under the same blanket. Your legs were draped over his. The weight of your thighs were nerve-racking and delightful. He felt your arms wrapped around his waist, your breath tingling the bare skin over his collar-bones.

He felt himself harden at your touch, your breath and your lips so close to his. He could lean over an inch and kiss you. Could he possibly dare? What if you hated him for it? No. He couldn't take that chance.

But he couldn't stay here either. He was bursting for release. He softly chanted a spell and found himself in the bathroom. Leaning against the cool tiles, he jerked himself off. The first of many, as he would discover soon.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me solomon #obey me slow burn #obey me solomon x reader #obey me sub reader #ah i just really love slow burn smuts and had to let this brain rot out for a while #Solomon brain rot is real ahhhhh #let me know if yall want a part 2

[celenawrites]

Note - This scenario contains dark content and NSFW parts.

Minors DNI.

Warning - Dark Content, Dubious Content, Stalker!Ghost and Stalker!Soap, Therapist!Reader, Nanny cams, Stalking, NSFW content,Voyeurism, Polyamory, characters may appear to be OOC (and I am sorry about that but I couldn't really resist this idea) etc.

Thinking about Simon Riley being discharged from the military after getting injured in action, and Soap taking leave in order to take care of him.

Johnny buys groceries, cooks for him, and drives him to his physical therapy sessions. Soap helps him stretch and care for his fractures, and he pretends that it's normal for his Lt. to wrap his arms around his waist as they sleep in the same bed. (Ghost's apartment is sparse at best, and Soap is lucky that he even has a bed to sleep on. If it were up to Simon, he'd probably sleep while on his legs - even when they're fractured.)

Soap who wakes up in the middle of the night to his Lieutenant reliving his mistakes on the field over and over again, the nightmare making him shake and sweat in his bed. Soap, who has to carefully wake him up and make him a hot cup of tea, knowing that after such a rough night, Riley won't be sleeping anytime soon.

Simon, who has a hard time expressing his gratitude to his Sergeant, but he can show it in more 'unconventional' ways. Simon, who needs to feel Johnny close to him in bed, in order to have a good night's sleep. Simon, who cannot help but imagine what a life with Soap would be like, if he were to retire from the military altogether. Simon, who feels his mouth dry a little, whenever he glances at even a sliver of Soap's exposed skin from his too-loose tank tops. (Summer has been brutal this time around, for some reason and Soap has been killing him with his tempting body, to be frank.)

Simon who's instructed by Price to go to therapy/get a psych eval before he re-joins the task force. Simon, who along with Soap, is forced to look through newspapers and online articles and reviews until he stumbles upon a therapist who specializes in veterans and is covered by his insurance, thank fuck.

Soap drives Simon to the therapist and even stays in the reception hall while Simon goes through a session, but by God is he distracted by how pretty his therapist is. You're just the most beautiful woman he had probably laid his eyes on in years, and he's pretty sure the filthy thoughts he has for you are totally inappropriate and only reserved for you and Soap. Simon has his dark eyes flutter shut and move around the room, trying his best not to ogle you but failing anyway as he notices your cleavage in your tight white blouse. He's aloof, and curt - if only to save you from the depravity that has consumed his brain.

He wonders how you'd react if he were to bend you over that office table of yours and fuck your brains out. You always look so stressed, you seem like you need it - need someone to take care of you the way you seem to be trying to 'take care' of him.

You're frustrated. You know that someone like Simon clearly has gone through hell, and you want to help him, but you're out of your depth regarding how to assist him. You almost refer him to a more experienced therapist, that is until Simon decides to show you a glimpse or two into his life - telling you about his mother and about Tommy, rarely would he be amenable to talking about his late father though. And you wouldn't force him to talk about things he doesn't wish to touch upon either.

He would sometimes talk about Johnny - 'a dear friend' of his who is helping him out during his recovery. He would sometimes get this almost fond look in his eyes, and you'd wonder how long it takes for Simon to realize that Johnny is more than a friend to him.

Simon talks briefly about his time in the military, almost all names and, places, and information are hidden for your safety. The first time he musters up the courage to talk about his father, he couldn't stop tapping his foot against the marble floor, his hands trembling as he recalls memories of his terrible childhood. Seeing the behemoth of a man

Simon, who finds himself falling deeper in love with Soap, and yet feels shame surrounding him at the prospect of his obsession with his sweet little therapist and her caring attitude. Simon, who wants to be happy just this once, and have the family that he so desperately craves and deserves after the shitty life he had to suffer through, decides to finally plan how to bring you and Johnny closer to him - creating a safe haven for all three of you.

You don't know that he has your phone tapped and that he has been able to track out your address (thanks to military connections). You barely pay attention to the stuffed toy on your vanity table, unaware of the nanny cam inside of it that allows Simon to spy on your every move. He's a gentleman, still. So he doesn't necessarily spy on you when you change into your clothes, or get out of the shower - wet and dripping, your soft body wrapped up in a towel. He definitely tries his best to ignore the hard boner he pops even at the slightest show of your skin.

Soap gets increasingly worried at the prospect of Simon regularly going to the therapist, and then disappearing into his study room for hours on end - barely speaking a word to him ever since he started taking therapy seriously.

On one such day, when Simon leaves for therapy on his own, he insists that Soap stays home and rests - he's been working so hard and clearly deserves to have a day to himself. In his hurry to meet you, the lieutenant leaves his study room unlocked and unguarded - and Johnny lets his curiosity get the best of him. 

Johnny spots the still-open laptop, and surfs through it all - his mind feeling a concoction of disgust, envy, and even awe as he notices how thorough Simon had been when it came to not only vetting you but also keeping eyes on you constantly through secretive means. The device has probably hundreds of hours of footage of you and to be honest, the more he snoops around, the more he can see why Ghost would go out of his way to do it. 

"She's perfect, ain't she?" Simon grumbles from behind him, and Johnny feels his heart fall to his stomach. He realizes that leaving the room unlocked was not a mistake, but rather an intentional move on his partner's behalf. 

The masked man claps his shoulder with his firm hand, egging him on to watch you relax in your office - leaning back into your leather armchair, your chest heaving as you close your eyes and relax before your next patient arrives. 

"Made for both of us", Simon goads him, and Johnny cannot find it in himself to disagree. 

Note -

I legitimately started typing this out while in class, got sick and stayed at home and finished it while I was supposed to be resting. Some of these ideas are too tempting to be left as just ideas, so I would probably try to give this one a chance. (I say this with every little blurb I pump out on my blog lol. Someone should stop me.)

#call of duty #cod #cod:mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap cod #ghost cod #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #soap x ghost x reader #ghostsoap #therapist!reader #cod au #char.simon ghost riley #char.soap #cw dubcon #cw stalking #cw voyeurism #celena.rambles #celena.writes

[shadeysprings]

Rebound - Finale

—DBF!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Your night of wallowing in your misery takes a different turn when your dad’s best friend bumps into you at the bar. 

Warnings: noncon/dubcon undertones, oral sex with fingers at play, unprotected sex, age gap (around 20-25 years), kinda SoftDark!Joel but also nah, gaslighting, predatory vibes & pussy slapping. Use the warnings wisely and tread carefully.

A/N: We have reached the end—or have we? Either way, thank you to everyone that has been following this mini-series since the beginning. I do apologize for the late update as I am going through some rough patches atm. Still, thank you from the bottom of my heart and I hope to release more Joel/Pedro content for y'all soon!

Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy.❤️

— Previous Chapter

The sun shines through the window, its rays kissing your skin as the morning comes and greets the world. The birds chirp happily, their song being carried by the wind, soothing and peaceful, unlike your soul that continues to be plagued by the darkness and the formidable force that is Joel.

Your sleep was restless as the events of the evening kept playing in your head, giving you no serenity, no escape, only dread. Disbelief shrouds you, still finding it surreal that the man you knew for years and was trusted by your family would attack you and betray you in such a way. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

His snores echo through your bedroom. His naked chest pressed against your back. But the worst one of all, his cock remains inside of you, your inner thighs stained and sticky from his come, evidence of his depravity, a psychotic demonstration of his power and perverse desires for you. Your cunt aches, sore from his assault that you allowed helplessly, powerless to his strength and intent. 

You force yourself not to cry, to not make a sound as the severity of your situation sinks in your bones. The last thing you want to do is wake him up and face the morning with his suffocating attention. To hear his words of faux concern that he knows what you need. And his fucked up head, he thinks—no, he believes that what you need is him. 

So, you close your eyes and wish for sleep to visit you. You hope that he’s gone when you wake up and that everything that had happened would have all been a nightmare, one you can forget and push to the back of your head and never think of again. 

But just as your eyes get heavy and your body reaches a point of calm, he stirs from behind you and you’re wide awake once more. His arm around you tightens, pulling you flush against his chest and you struggle to keep the reluctant moan from leaving your lips when you feel his cock throb against your pussy walls, his hips rolling against your own. 

“Good morning, baby,” he says in a sleepy drawl, your body shivering when he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder, his beard bristling against your skin. 

You don’t respond, hoping he would think you’re asleep and that he would leave you alone. But his hand begins to wander, your skin tingling when he grazes his fingertips against it before trapping a nipple between his fingers and giving it a rough pinch. 

“I know you’re awake,” he groans.

His hips begin to move, slowly pulling back and then pushing in, his length rubbing against your sore cunt. And all at once, he traps you in his arms, a gasp pulled from your throat when he turns your head to have you face him when he looks down at you, his hand caging your jaw before he leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips.

His tempo then picks up, swallowing your moans when you feel him plunge his cock deeper. The hand previously on your breast travels south, caressing your stomach and you let out a yelp of surprise when he slaps your pussy, once, twice, then multiple times in quick succession, stopping all of a sudden only to press his finger against your clit and rolling against it roughly.

Your walls slicken at the touch and your back arches against his chest as the stimulation drenches over your entire being. Toes curling, hips bucking instinctively and your mind going blank, consumed by the pleasure you didn’t want—and all you could think about is reaching high for your peak and seeking that release.

“I feel your body aching for me, baby,” he groans on your cheek when you break the kiss, gasping heavily and whining when he turns on the bed and lays on his back, pulling you with him and having you rest on his chest. 

With his knees positioned between yours, he spreads them apart with yours and his hand latches around your throat while the other sits gingerly against your cunt. Your body bends, teeth grinding as your body sings in ecstasy when he rams his cock against you, faster, harder, fucking you senseless, making your ass bounce against his thighs. 

Strings of whimpers and moans slip past your lips as you beg for relief, his hand slapping once more against your cunt, your clit stinging in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your walls then clench around him, the pit of your stomach rolling, swirling as Joel continues to impale you, his thrusts frantic and erratic and you feel his hot breath spreading against your heated skin. 

You then shout in pain when his teeth clamp on your shoulder, but it quickly subsides as the sensation only provokes the desire swimming deep in your core. He sucks on the patch of skin and then bites down, his tongue rolling around the prickling area before pressing a kiss on it. 

“You’re mine, baby—” he growls and you choke when his fingers tighten around your neck. “Don’t you ever forget that.” 

His words jolt fear into you with how possessive and feral he sounds. But such thoughts vanish as quickly as they came and you grab onto his arms when you feel the coil within you twisting tighter and tighter. 

You focus on one thing, to reach your peak and you imagine Joel not being here, painting his face with another, with Alex’s, just to simply endure the torture he bestows upon you easier and find a sense of comfort amidst the whirlwind of this monstrosity. 

Breath hitching and legs shaking, you let out a shout when the thread finally breaks and a blinding orgasm takes over, making your body stay still as your juices flow out of you in a rush, coating heavily on his cock. But his hips don’t relent and both his hands grab onto your waist as he pounds into you mercilessly. Though he doesn’t last much longer, slamming his cock deep within where he shudders and growls when he finally spills his seed.

The air is musky with the scent of sex as you both lay atop the mattress, chests heaving and exhaustion settling in. A whine trickles out from you when his hand finds purchase of your pussy once more, fingers playing with your clit before running his hand north and splaying his fingers wide against your stomach. 

“You’re on the pill, right?” he asks out of the blue and panic quickly washes over you at the realization that he finished inside. 

But before you could respond, he plants a kiss on your shoulder and then on your hair, whining when his cock slides out of your pussy and feeling your mixed essence drip down your inner thighs and to your ass. 

“Well, even if you ain’t, we can get those morning-after pills later.” he says, amusement evident in his voice, both his arms wrapping around your body as he cages you to him. “Let’s just enjoy the morning for a little longer, shall we?”

-

Joel, as you’ve come to realize, is insatiable. 

Relief filled you when he allowed you to clean up, happy to finally be away from him even if it was for a short while. Your feet were still stinging from the burns from the night before but you preferred it more than being with your captor. 

But the respite you thought you had was taken away when the curtains flew open just as soon as the hot water hit your skin and Joel stepped inside the tub, feeling his arms wrap around your waist to pull you against him.

“I saw the pills,” he whispered in your ear, tears pooling in your eyes when you felt his cock stiff against the small of your back. “Glad to know we’re in the clear,” he added and proceeded to take you once more in the tight space. 

You’re still in shock as to why he’s doing this, his words from last night ringing in your ears. It makes you question just how long he’s been thinking of you, seeing you in such a way and not as his best friend’s daughter. The thought makes you sick, knowing that he must have been waiting, preying on you without you even realizing it. Taking advantage of the times you both would bond with each other and wait for the opportunity to strike.

But his deviance is not what scares you but the fluctuation of his mood. He was rough and manipulative last night, blaming you for his actions. Yet, now, he's calm and all smiles, sitting in front of you on the bed, dressed only in his boxers and you in a nightshirt—foregoing the panties at his behest. A tray of toast, eggs, and bacon sits between you—something he’s prepared himself—a sweet and thoughtful gesture should the circumstances be different. 

He bites on a piece of toast and you do nothing but stare at the food, questions swirling in your head. How will you escape him? Would you even be able to? What would happen if you told your dad what he did?

“You’re not eating.” his voice stops your train of thought and you look up at him, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. “Don’t you like it? I can make you something else.”

“No—this is fine,” you say with a strained smile, picking up a piece of bacon. “Thank you.” you bite into the shred of meat, forcing yourself to eat despite your lack of appetite. But you don’t want to displease him, you’ve seen the extent of his strength and anger.

He stares, hazel orbs intense and dark and you look away if only to keep away from his suffocating presence. But the bed moves and the tray of food is pushed aside, your eyes blinking when his hand appears in your line of sight. You hesitate for a second but immediately place your hand in his when you hear the low growl he makes. He tugs you and you follow him with reluctance, taking a seat on his lap as he directs. 

Back resting on his naked and damp chest, you try not to pull away when he nuzzles his nose on the crook of your neck, an arm wrapping around your waist while the other rests over your thigh and kneads on the flesh.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” he says, more of a command than a request and you say nothing. He continues, “So that you’re not surrounded by memories of that chump ex of yours. Understand?”

You swallow thickly, afraid to utter a word but the way his fingers dig painfully into the meat of your thigh has you hissing and you acquiesce to his demands with a nod. 

“Things are going to be different from now on, baby,” he whispers and you whimper when his hand slips between your thighs, finger tickling your skin before cupping your naked heat, and his thumb slowly pushes down against your sensitive bud. “No more wasted tears,” he murmurs, your hand grabbing his wrist when he starts rolling the pad of his thumb against your clit. “No more broken heart.”

You sniff and try to close your legs, to stop him. But he pinches your stomach and you bite your lip to suppress a cry, succumbing once more to his desires. 

“I’ll give you everything you need,” he growls low and you stiffen against his chest when his finger teases your slit, the tears falling down your face when he pushes it past your folds and into your cunt, fucking you slowly. 

“I love you, baby. Always have and always will.” Shivers run up your spine when he kisses your ear and whispers once more, his words sealing your fate. “And no one will ever take you away from me.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibrary and turn on notifications.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #dark joel miller #dark!joel miller #dbf!joel miller #the last of us #au #rebound #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal imagine #dark fic #joel miller fanfiction #shadeysprings fics

[unknown-scuba-diver]

The artist and the king pt.4

Ganondorf x reader

Warning ⚠️: none

A cold sweat dripped down their face. Was it a dream? Or an incoming disaster waiting to happen? They could hear the quiet snoring of ganondorf in the quiet room. They quietly got up and walked around the empty and quiet temple. Trying to rap around what just happened. They reached one of the balconies and sat there while the cold air of the desert night blows on their face. They really could use a drink right now and wondered if ganondorf had some type of alcohol in the temple, but they didn't want to be rude and take stuff without asking.

"I don't get it, the old hero of hyrule killed the demon king. So why was he in my dream? Was it a omen or something else?"

They asked themselves while looking at the village. All the lights were off, and just the endless sky could be seen. They stayed for a while longer until they calmed down, and they stood up and turned around. And in the darkness, two glowing eyes stared at them for a split second before whatever it was fleed away.

They stood there for who knows how long. Until they built the courage to walk in the darkness. They walked quietly back into ganondorfs room, trying to use the light of the moon to guide themselves. But with each foot step they can hear a pair of other foot steps approaching. They stop walking and tried looking around to see in the darkness.

"Is anyone there?"

There was no answer... and they felt a hand on their shoulder.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

They screamed.

"Woah calm down it's just me!"

Ganondorf was the one standing there. He was holding a candle in one hand. They calmed down, realizing who it was. "I thought you were -" they stopped themselves from mentioning demise, something deep down told them not to speak about it in front of them. "...a monster"

"What are you doing up so late?"

"I just wanted some fresh air, that's all"

He knew they were bullshitting but he didn't want to push them if they really didn't want to talk about it. "Alright, let's go back to bed". They nodded, and they both went back to bed, but they just stared at the darkness until sunrise.

When morning came, they felt tired and exhausted. Ganondorf wakes up and slowly stretches and lets out a yawn

"morning"

He wrapped he's arm around them, pulling them closer to him. "Morning ganondorf" they smiled and played with his hair. "Come on, let's get up. You're the king after all" they chuckled. He let a sigh and got up "Alright let's start the day!". They smiled and got ready with the king. "So what's for breakfast? " they asked,

"Bread with some eggs" Ganondorf replied,

"Sounds good!" They were ready to face the day even though they were pretty sleep depraved. Ganondorf walks into the kitchen and grabs a pan "could you get me some eggs?", they nodded and grabbed four eggs. He used fire magic to light the stove, no matter how many times they saw it happen it still felt magical just like the first time they saw him use magic. "I wish I could use magic.." they sighed.

"Can't your people also use magic? " he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Nah, only the royal family and their magicians are the most prominent magic welders" they said while cutting some bread for the both of them.

"I could teach you" Ganondorf said with a hint of excitement. "What! You can do that?" They asked. Ganondorf nodded his head and put two eggs on each plate and sat down next to them "you know I should also teach you how to fight also especially during these times". They knew what he was taking about and nodded.

"Yeah, I understand, but I don't think I am going to be very good " they took a bite out of their egg toast. Ganondorf smirks,

"Don't be so hard on yourself! I see the fire in your eyes when you're making art. I bet you can do the same with fighting"

Ganondorf playfully slap their back, (y/n) almost choked on their food when they got hit it the back, "oops! Sorry my bad! ".

After eating lunch, ganondorf had a meeting with the generals of the Gerudo Valley about what was going on in their lands. They felt like it wasn't right for them to hear their business, so they went to the market to buy new materials for art supplies.

They knew that while that while it was morning, the sun shouldn't be as harsh, she walked around looking at what they were selling.

"Excuse me, do you have any leather? My bag got ripped up, and I am looking to patch it up"

"Sure, how much?"

They showed her torn up bag.

"Oh honey, you are going to need a new one "

"But this was a gift...." they sighed

"Wait! We can make you a new one but it isn't going to look the same is that okay?"

They nodded. "Thank you!", they give them the rupees for the commission.

"Alright, it will be done around two weeks"

"Sounds good "

They waved goodbye, and they continued to buy some more stuff so they could make a new sketchbook and watercolor paints. They walked back to the temple and started to sew the paper to make the sketchbook. But they could hear the conversation going on between ganondorf and the generals.

They could hear them. Taking about battle strategy and involving monsters in this war. This reminded them of an old legend that their grandparents told them about the demon king. His generals were shocked and angry. They didn't know who to feel about it, but they shocked their head, they loved him and they didn't care if he wanted a monster to fight besides them, they just wanted him to be happy.

The meeting was finished and ganondorf walked up to them. " Hey, how did the shopping trip go? Did you get the stuff to fix your bag?" He asked.

"They said it was unfixable but they are going to make me a new one! " They were done making their paints. "Am done doing my stuff, we can train now" they smiled. Ganondorf smirks "I hope you're ready because am not going easy on you " . They smiled "I hope so!"

Ganondorf grabbed their hand and ran to the castle's training area. They felt dizzy from being dragged so quickly "wow you're really fast". Ganondorf noticed and laughed, he motion them at the weapons. "What weapon would you like to practice with?" He showed off one off. "Which one do you think would be best for me? "

Ganondorf thought while looking at the weapons. Ganondorfs face lights up with excitement once again, as he pulls out a few different weapons, showing them as he speaks

"... Well, a shortsword or a dagger might suit you, something quick and small, perfect for close quarters combat!"

He shows you a few daggers, and a few shortswords, they are all very beautiful and intricate, the craftsmanship is superb and flawless, and the weapons are all very well made, very carefully honed to perfection.. he seems very proud of his arsenal to say the least.

"... What do you think? Which one do you like best?"

They go and picked up a short sword, "it's beautiful"

Ganondorfs eyes light up with a sense of pride, as if you just complimented his work

The short sword they picked up is incredibly well forged and it's a beauty to behold, and as they pick it the blade reflects the light as if it's the finest metal ever crafted.. it's a masterpiece of craftsmanship

"... That is a very good pick.. very good. Alright, let's get training, shall we?"

He pulls out another short sword and he holds it in the air

"Take your stance, and we will begin!"

"Alright! " They tried to mimic their stance. "Alright.. that looks good enough for a start! Now, let's practice some basic attacks!"

Ganondorfs golden eyes light up with some strange flame that reminded them of demise. But they shrug it off.

"... Let's see you use this sword.. do a basic strike!"

They tried to strike him the best they can.

Ganondorfs eyes light up as he watches them swing their sword, a small spark flying from both their blades clashing.

"Good! Excellent...!"

He claps his hands together

"... Your form needs some work, but you're a very quick learner so I feel confident you will learn it in no time.. I'll train you to be the best fighter in the land! You have what it takes.."

"Anything to protect you and these lands ganondorf...Anything.."

#ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda ganondorf #loz ganondorf

[wallgirl]

Beelzebub x Fem!Reader x Lilith - Grief

1500 words. SFW. Warnings: Mild violence, mention of murder, death threats.

After the murder of your beloved friend Lilith, you seek out her killer to exact revenge.

"I'm not asking, I am ordering you to tell me." Your voice rose in anger. "Is he in there or not?"

"I cannot let you go in!" The ancient librarian attempted to shield the door. "Please, think about this! That cursed man is dangerous! He killed Lucifer; harming you would be nothing-"

"Enough!" You bellowed. "I'll go and see for myself, then!"

"Please, Miss, don't go in!" The librarian cried, eyes alarmed behind his spectacles. "I'm begging you!"

But it was too late. You forced the door open with a harsh kick, letting it thud back against the wooden wall. "Beelzebub!"

There was nothing but silence. The vaulted main room of the library was strewn about with papers and books everywhere, with only a handful of shrunken candles lighting the tall shelves. The only signs of life were a few iron plates with partially-eaten crusts of bread and apple cores.

"Miss, please..."

You ignored the librarian's beseeching and strode in, lips pursed in silent rage. "I know you're in here, Beelzebub." Your steps slowed as you peered into each doorway, searching for the demon. "Come out now and spare me the trouble of dragging you out."

There was no answer in the still, dusty darkness. It didn't take long for you to check every room in the building except for the basement; the most ancient and forbidden tomes were kept down there. Of course he would be locked away in the underground, studying dark magic. It was so fitting for a depraved monster like him.

Without ceremony, you kicked the basement door open as well. This one was lined with iron and didn't swing open quite as fast, allowing you a moment of bitter anticipation as it drew back to reveal the demon you were hunting sitting at a far table.

Your prey did not look up to acknowledge your presence at all. His eyes continued to scan the page he was engrossed in without pause.

His lack of reaction - his passiveness compared to your overwhelming sorrow - made you snap. "Beelzebub!"

"Leave," he said quietly. "I have no business with you... and, surely, you can have no business with me."

Of course, he would dismiss you. You knew you looked unhinged, and far less dangerous than any of the other creatures of the realm - hair unkempt from your journey, red-rimmed eyes wild with grief, and battered cloak pulled loosely about your thin frame.

Well, he was about to learn a lesson in what grief could drive even a small woman like you to do.

"I beg to differ," you snarled. From underneath your cloak you drew one of a dozen poisoned blades. "I'm here on behalf of Lilith."

That got his attention, just in time for the blade to soar past his head and lodge into one of the many volumes stacked behind him. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you got a look at the face of your friend's killer. He looked far too young and slight to be any sort of threat, and the delicate skin beneath his eyes was dark and sunken from lack of sleep. He would've evoked pity in you, if you hadn't known he had murdered your beloved Lilith and her friends in cold blood. Perhaps that pitiful appearance was what had helped him to take advantage of their kindness.

"Yes, Lilith. Don't tell me I'm the only one that's showed up to avenge her?" You stalked closer until only the table was preventing you from strangling him. "That's just as well. I knew her best."

Lilith. Her murderer continued to stare at you with that pathetic look on his face; the face of a broken man barely holding up a facade of stoicism.

"You're much more pathetic looking than I thought you'd be, cursed Beelzebub." You laughed coldly. "But that's fine. It'll make it that much easier for me to put you down, like the rabid demon you are." Your hand slipped under your cloak once more. "...I owe Lilith that much." You were close enough to the room's solitary candle for its light to catch a glimmer of welling-up tears in your eyes.

"...And I would grant you your respite..." He said slowly, his words almost measured. Your eyes widened in surprise. "...But the death you offer me is far too clean and painless. Begone." His gaze lowered, and a sharp tremor throughout the chamber threw you off your feet. You fell hard on the ground, struggling to prop yourself upright.

"I don't care if it suits you or not!" You raged, grabbing blindly for one of the many daggers pinned inside your cloak. "You think you deserve to name your punishment?! Lilith herself will decide your eternal torment once you've died and-"

A large, pale hand quickly seized your wrist. "Don't."

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. His dark-rimmed eyes were level with your own. "Those knives are poisoned. Aren't they?" There was no change in his voice as he admonished you. "You would grab at one so carelessly, and cause Lilith more grief?"

You stared vacantly at him. Cause Lilith more grief...?

Oh... Because I probably would've cut myself on one of those blades. Lilith always did say I acted too blindly and clumsily when I was upset.

You recalled her smile with pain. Lilith, if you knew what I was doing... would this make you sad? Would you have called me foolish, barging in to face your murderer so blindly?

Who am I kidding? Of course you would've. Oh, Lilith, I'm sorry. I've completely lost my way.

"Lilith..." You crumpled with sorrow at the memory, clutching your free hand tight to your chest. "I wasn't even thinking... I hate it... But you're right. This would have only made her sad..."

Beelzebub didn't respond.

"She looked out for me a lot," you found yourself confessing suddenly. "The day we first met, it was like she knew I needed a friend. Someone to watch over me. I didn't have any family, and she became like a big sister to me. She was a sister to me." You drew a deep, rattling breath. "And now you took her away, and I have no one. The light she shared is gone. No one can replace her. It's all your fault!"

Your accusation hung heavy in the air until an unexpected whisper pierced it.

"Lucifer," Beelzebub whispered hoarsely.

"What?" You thought you'd misheard him. "Lucifer?"

"She reminded me of him... They were so alike."

The anger in your veins reignited. "Lucifer? Lilith's friend? You mean, the other angel you killed?"

He fell silent again.

Your hands were shaking again with blind rage. You had to leave, or else risk doing something Lilith wouldn't have wanted. You hated him for having known her well enough to throw that bit of truth in your face. "...You know, in the last letters she wrote me, she mentioned you all the time. She would have followed you anywhere... And yet, you killed her. And now you have the audacity to act remorseful..." Your trembling fingers fiddled with the handle of a knife beneath your cloak. "Remorseful, like you wish you hadn't done it. Like you didn't make the decision to kill her."

He remained still in the candlelight, blood-shot eyes staring at you too close. Like the unreadable gaze of an insect. "...You want me dead, rightfully, like countless others," he whispered. "I know it's what I deserve. And what I deserve is a death far more painful and bleak than you can give me. So wait for a little longer. And then, I promise... Death will come to avenge Lilith."

You stared at him in shock. The black void of his eyes held secrets and regrets you weren’t privy to. The weight of his words lingered heavily in the air between the two of you. "...I don't understand what happened that night. I... I hope I never understand the mind of a monster like you. But..." You stared down at your tear-stained skirt. "All right. I won't cause her more grief. I'll let fate deal with you instead - as long as you can keep that promise."

He finally released your wrist, and you slowly got to your feet, legs aching from your fall, before pulling a handful of crumpled papers from your bag. There was a moment of hesitation before you threw them half-heartedly in his direction, letting them flutter to the ground. "These are the letters she wrote me. The parts that she mentioned you in, at least. I thought I'd read them to you before I killed you, but maybe it'd be better for you to ruminate over them yourself." Your lower lip quivered.

Beelzebub's gaze shifted only momentarily to the ink-smeared papers; fast enough that you might've missed it if you hadn't been staring at him so intently. "I'll be waiting for that painful, messy death to come your way, then, Beelzebub."

You rushed out of the room before the tears overwhelmed you once more.

Beelzebub walked slowly to the scattered letters. He knelt down and traced one finger over Lilith's handwriting with a delicate, guilty touch. Love, Lilith.

"We'll wait together," he whispered.

---

Author’s note: Ah, the intricacies of shared grief when one of the two is actually the murderer but not exactly.

#record of ragnarok beelzebub #record of ragnarok #beelzebub #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #fanfiction #lilith #record of ragnarok lilith

[leoetoile]

𝑅𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓈

Angst/fluff, 2 endings.

Belphie and MC engage in an innocent experiment with a potion. Soon they will discover untold secrets of the past and unspoken words of the present.

SPOILERS LESSON 16 Gender neutral character, 2K words, proofread. English is not my first language, sorry If I misspelled something. TW: Light mentions of violence, mention of a potion that makes you sleep, air depravation. That's it, let me know if I missed a tw.

It was an extremely boring day in the house of lamentation.

Everyone seemed to be occupied, out or getting tied to the ceiling by Lucifer for trying to make money of some family heirloom.

So you decided to go to the very next option for entertainment. Solomon.

Lucky for you he was working on a new semi-safe potion.

He explained that it was a potion to reveal one’s biggest desire but since he was working with unknown ingredients anything could happen.

The only thing he had assured was that once someone ingested it, they would be creating a doppelganger for a day or so.

So he needed someone to test it and you needed anything to get out of boredom. It was perfect.

On your way to the dorm, you spotted a blue-ish hair color. Your heart started beating faster. You could feel it in your mouth.

-Belphie!

You ran to hug him. He seemed surprised but hugged you back quickly warming your heart a little bit.

-You seem rather excited.-He said with a sleepy voice and blushed cheeks.

-I am, I just got back from Solomon’s room.

-W-why? – he said trying to hide his annoyance.

-Well I was bored and he offered to help me out. – You said with a teasing voice

His look said “Go on MC”. And he stood there silently until you continued.

You knew you couldn’t bother him any longer, that sweet purple gaze melted you.

You picked the little bottle Solomon gave you and shook it in Belphie’s face with a giggle.

You explained what it did and he seemed convinced nothing would happen for his double.

-You can’t blame me if mine isn’t exciting. It’ll probably lay in bed all day.

-But that’s a yes? You’ll try it with me?

-Fineeee but only because you are the one asking. I’m not comfortable  with the idea of drinking something Solomon is testing.

-Great!

-But… - He said while posing his arms around you, his lips very close to your ear-it would be a 100% more entertaining if we just give it to Lucifer. Think about it MC! His face when he hears there’s some guy disrupting the peace and when he finds him, it’s him! That’s priceless HAHAH

-You have a problem Belphie.

-Wathever, I won’t take criticism from someone who is willing to do all of this out of boredom.-he separated himself from you only to take your hand, guiding you to his room.

You both took the little sip required. Nothing was happening until a great weight started bringing your eyelids shut.

-What a scam! I feel nothing.- The sloth demon said irritated.

-I feel… I think I want to nap… right now.- Your body felt heavy all of a sudden.

-O-okay! sleepy face, don’t die on me like that. Come on.- Belphie started carrying you to his bed.

-You really need to handle your potions MC, what if I wasn’t here!

You felt his arms around your body as he setteled next to you, soft cushions under your weight, it felt like floating on a cloud.

-I- I think I need to nap too.- Belphie said mid yawn.

-Belphie?-You said with the last energy you had.- Thank you for doing this with me. Even napping feels lovely with you… by my side.

You didn’t saw his face but you knew him enough to know he was fighting a huge blush deepening in his pale skin.

-You… you shouldn’t. I- thanks MC.- A kiss landed at the back of your head.- I…feel the same..- he said fighting his own slumber.

You thought for a moment about how embarrassing would be to wake up to Belphie bothering you about what you said but it didn’t felt like that anymore. At this point you didn’t cared, you promised to your sleeping self that when you woke up, you were going to talk to him about all of this pent up feelings you had lately. About the ache in your heart that appeared every time you tried to tell him and failed.

You were going to express how much you loved him.

You don’t know for how long you were out and by the time you woke up, Belphie was gone.

You noticed a pending message on your DDD.

Belphie: Went out for some food, my stomach’s killing me! You want something? Anything. A kiss maybe?

With a smile on your face you tried to remember what happened. Something important at the back of your head trying to get out.

-The potion!

Had Solomon failed? Did he just made some sleeping brew? You were on your way to tell him your discoveries when Asmo stopped you by.

-MC! HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME EARLIER

-Whaa?

-I just wanted to show you my new diamond face mask, perhaps even share it if you wanted and you just blew past me. I’m actually heartbroken.-The now very sparkly demon pouted.

-No Asmo, it’s not like that! I guess I didn’t heard you, you know I could never ignore you.

Asmodeus looked at you for a good minute before answering.

-Okay I believe you MC, it does sound kind of crazy for someone to actually ignore me, those cute eyes of yours sure know better.

-By the way, where was this… incident?

-Well I was on my way to the dorms when I spotted you by the stairs to the attic. What were you doing there?

-I-I was looking for Belphie actually.-suddenly with a sting at your heart, you remembered your promise.

-Isn’t that him?- He pointed behind you, by the time you looked back he was gone. Only a trail of familiarity staying.

-Everyone seems in such a hurry today.-Asmo said with a calmly.

-I’m sorry Asmo, I need to go, we’ll try your face mask this afternoon! – You said as you started running towards Belphie’s direction.

-Okaaay! Take care MC! And never ignore me again!

You ran as excitement shoot trough your body, your hands began to sweat.  

Determined to speak your mind, you followed him to the attic stairs.

-Belphie wait up!

You heard Belphie’s laugh. How could he?! Make you run upstairs at a time like this. He was definitely going to pay.

Finally you reached the attic room.

As you walked, Belphie’s voice became more clear.

“Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breath?”

Those words stopped you in your tracks. It couldn’t be… right?

“Seeing a human face twisted in pain like this”

A rush of adrenaline surged trough your spine. You were familiar with the scenario.

As you listened more and more, you could swear you began to feel a familiar pressure around your neck, but there was no one around you. You finally gathered the courage to look through the open door, and what you saw left you frozen.

Distraught laughter filling the room and in the floor there was your doppelganger, bloody and beaten, fighting foolishly for their last breath, Belphie’s hands around their throat.

Now it felt like you were choking on hot, toxic air. The lack of oxygen started to get to you and as you were falling to the floor, you could hear a familiar voice.

-MC!

It was Belphie, he looked like he ran like hell just to find you. There was fear in his eyes.  

-What’s wrong MC?!

 Steps were coming from the other side of the room. You couldn´t speak and Belphie started to panic due to your red face.

-I can´t….breathe.- You barely stammered.

Belphegor got up to the strange sounds, maybe he could find a solution in the other room, just to find his breath caught in his troath at the horrific scenario.

-S-stop.- Belphie whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.- PLEASE STOP!- a piercing scream came out of his mouth.

And as if by magic, the air came back to you and the doppelgangers dissappeared.

-M-MC are you okay?

-I ran here to say… that I- I love…-you couldn’t finish your sentence, your heart couldn’t take it anymore. Was this Belphie’s desire? To kill you again? After everything that happened, you didn’t mind him not talking ever about it. You could handle it as long as he kept being by your side but now? All you wanted was to crumble on the floor and forget about him.

-No-no this isn’t, it’s not what you think MC! Please!-He tried to grab your arm but stopped when you flinched.

At this point, Belphie started crying again.

-MC I-I love you, I could never please hear me-Belphie cried.

He had never said “I love you“ out loud, you felt a little guilt inside you but it was soon replaced with anger. He wanted to kill you, he’s a demon. One that tricked you once. You wouldn’t let him do it again.

-You terrify me Belphegor.- was the last thing you said to him before you ran out of that place.

Belphie stood in the dark attic room, unable to move, all the blood, all the hatred his doppelganger painted in the walls, was gone but it remained present in his mind. It was his biggest sin.

No, that wasn’t it. His biggest sin was never apologizing enough. He was ashamed of that fateful day, he hoped that you forgave him some day without him having to talk about it. But the shame was still there, eating him from inside every day.

So today, with the potion, he was nervous you were going to see him for who he was. Hopelessly in love with you, a fool that couldn’t even say sorry, much less confesss his deep love for you, his greatest desire.

But things went south, he didn’t knew what happened. This wasn’t it. This couldn’t be anything but a misunderstanding.

He loved you, he wasn’t going to lose you over this. He was going to apologize, he was going to be honest. This time, he was going to do everything right.

~ Angsty ending ~

Belphie ran on your trail after talking to Solomon. (more like yelling at Solomon) for an answer, an explanation that would put an end to this problem.

And he got it, he could finally clean his name, tell you how much he loved you and have you believing him this time.

-Asmo! Is MC inside?- he panted drawing the blond’s attention. Asmo didn’t looked okay.

-I came here…I don’t know what happened.- Belphie realized the puffy eyes and red nose in Asmo’s face.

-What do you mean?

-They left.-Asmo said grimly.-Left just like that. They didn't say when they would return but it didn't look like they were going to Belphie.

Asmo threw himself into Belphie’s arms, defeated, he started crying loudly.

The tears in Belphegor’s eyes soon escaped, he held his brother tightly as if he was going to collapse at any moment.

You were gone because of him, he could handle his brothers' soon-to-be hatred but he could never recover from your loss.

What was he going to do with all the unspoken words?

What was he going to do without the warmth of your presence, your hugs in the morning and your goodnight texts?

If only he could rewind time, if only he could tell you the truth of the potion.

You could know what that nightmare revealed. His greatest regret.

Who knows what would happen if he took the potion now, the only sure thing is that he could add another regret to the list.

Not reaching you on time had to be number one.

~ Fluff ending ~

As he stood in complete silence, something ignited inside him. Maybe it was the searing pain in his chest or the lack of your hands in his.

But he started running like he had never run before, he expected to catch you at the next corner and when he didn’t, he seemed to run even faster.

Very soon he managed to spot your figure.

You were on the ground, amongst a garden, with your hands on your face and a wound on your knee that you had probably gotten from falling on the rough ground.

-MC!.- He yelled not expecting the need in his voice. He saw you were startled to say the least.

- No, get away from me Belphegor!- You said with clear pain in your face when you tried to move.

-You are hurt…- He said, laying there, you looked tiny, he soon realized how fragile humans could be, if a simple fall could bring you down to your knees, his heart broke more just thinking about the horrific scene his doppelganger had created, the one he actually executed in you. Another you.

It pained him to think about him laughing at your dying body. When right now all he wanted was to protect you.

-I’m so so sorry MC. What I did was unforgivable and the fact that I never really said anything to you, is fucking worse. I am deeply sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything sooner. I’m sorry you had to relive that shit.- Belphie said, giving into his own pain, he knelt before you.

If it weren't for the fact that you were still in front of him, he would have burst into tears right there and then. But he continued, your crystallized eyes kept him going on.

-I know I’ve fucked up, a lot, but I would never hurt you like I did. I'll be dead before I think of doing you any harm. I…I love you so much MC. I love you to the point of feeling my heart explode every time you lay your eyes on me. If there is one thing I know for sure, it is that you are the person I want to take care of, always and I want you to be the person who takes care of me. I have loved you for a long time and I will continue to love you until the end of my days.

And if you really don't believe me, please, let’s go to Solomon, I’m sure he can explain all of this!

- Belphie stop. –You said, a certain sadness in your voice.- Why now? Why are you telling me all of this now that I had to feel myself dying again? This shit cannot keep happening! I won’t let you hurt me!

-I know I have no right to ask you to trust me, but this is real. No matter what happens, you should know the truth. I owe you that much. And the truth is, I have fell for you. Head over hills and all. And I would never hurt you.- He said as he grabbed your hands gently.-You are my greatest desire.

It was hard believing in him again, not feeling like this was another one of his tricks, being afraid of his next move. But that feeling left with time. And with Solomon explaining what the potion did you were left a little bit more calm.

Since the sourcerer used unknown ingredients, he ended up making the opposite of what he told you. He apologized deeply and you agreed not to experiment like that again.

As for Belphie, he made sure you to give you time and comfort every time you needed it. He swore never to hide anything from you again and to communicate with you even if it was about difficult matters.

Well maybe he could keep something for himself. Just for a bit.

Tomorrow was the day he was going to ask you out officially, he prepared a nice picnic underneath the stars, your favorite snacks and a beautiful flower arrangement. He just hoped you accepted his advances.

“MC, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you…Would you please be mine?”

Thanks for reading my first fic. I love angst since it fills my soul,so tips and suggestions are always welcome. Have a great day my beautiful demon simp 💗

#obeyme #obey me mc #angst #fluff #belphie #belphegor #obey x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #lesson 16 #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me fluff #gn!reader #belphie x you #obey me game #obey me spoilers

[realduelacademia]

(Semi) Ex-Ra here: I almost forgot I sent that- anyways it was the fuckinnngggg Kuriboh bitch what's his name. comic book nerd? silfer red? blue hair and pronouns calls him "Jay"? always getting followed around by that weird-looking but low-key kinda hot demon?

Anyways I think somebody just. Tossed him through my dorm wall like a sack of potatoes. So me and blue hair took him to the infirmary and he stayed with him while I went back. Drank a shit ton of soda, ate at least one pixie stix whole, couldn't find that bitch-ass silfer red who challenged me, taught a good chunk of students how to shotgun soda cans, and probably other shit idk I passed out HARD after a while and I'm still putting together the pieces. Unholy amounts of sleep depravation and consuming a probably unhealthy amount of sugar will do that to a gal. (Also I have memory problems. It's mostly the memory problems)

But anyways, I was almost late to it but Won the duel! Woo-hoo! Except the kids at Ra are telling me I can't move back in rn because of "renovations", which I'm 99% they're lying to me about, but hey, at least I got my Ra coat back <3 and at least I'm a fucking Ra again, that demotion was complete BULLSHIT

Ooooooooh good Ra I had so much sugar bro. I'm still shaking am I okay

-Semi Ex-Ra! Woohoo!

ah yes the uh. the renovations that are happening. yes um. lots of renovations uh huh.

#sorry us ra students can be kinda. yeah #realduelacademia #asks #unreality #anon

[dzpenumbra]

8/27/22

Today went better than the past few. Crazy thunderstorms all day. Talked to my Mom a bit and she was actually really friendly and helpful. It's difficult because of how far things keep going, then I sorta just get reeled back in with kindness and offers of help. My heart just melts and I just go back in with open arms every time. No mention of the fights, no apology, no plan, nothing.

This has happened with every romantic relationship I've had too, and serious friendships, too... and the rest of my family, too... I'm starting to see a pattern here. Social starvation and extreme depravation of physical affection makes you do that. My brain just floods with endorphins and "wow, is this actually happening?" I forgive everything. I look past everything. All you have to do is compliment me and offer to help me, and apparently you don't even have to follow through with the help part and I probably won't even bring it up. Good lord, I've gotten pathetic.

I see how I can be perceived as talking a big game about mental health recovery. I've just put in a lot of hours and want to give myself credit for the massive accomplishments I've made, I was MUCH worse in the past. I hope it's not taken wrong, I am still a very flawed person. I am deeply fearful, I jump to worst case scenarios, I value myself way lower than I should and I let people walk all over me. I take people back for the most heinous of crimes, giving them dozens of chances. And worse, I have it justified in my head that I'm being a good guy. I'm being selfless, forgiving, turning the other cheek, being Christ-like, you know? And that's honestly not false. But I fear that the underlying layer of unfathomable loneliness just adds this confusing dynamic to social contact, the rare and immensely powerful ego boost when someone gives me kindness.

Lots of swirling thoughts in my head about this one, having trouble focusing because of how damn late/early it is again. This PTSD shit where I stay up all night because subconsciously I don't feel safe sleeping in the dark, it's taking a toll on me. At my worst, I was going to bed around now (7AM) and sleeping until like 3 PM. It sucks, you lose the whole day. So yeah, I need to make sure the storms have truly passed, both literally and metaphorically, and not delude myself into believing that today was a permanent change.

This gets very confusing when you have many conflicting bad habits coinciding like this. Looking at something really nice and seeing all the ways it could go wrong is usually the doomsday anxiety response, but here it can actually keep me protected and caution really kinda makes sense. I'm sure there's some profound realization right under the surface here, and I'm sure I can come back to it whenever. I'm nodding off and Max is curled up with me ready for sleep so...

zzzzzzzzzz

#diary #journal #stream of thoughts #spilled thoughts #mental health