#noncon falls under disgust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yawnderu · 4 months

Text

CW: noncon, somnophilia, cunnilingus, creampie, hints of military discharge, König is a fucking loser.

Sharing quarters with your Colonel isn't bad at all. The behemoth of a man is surprisingly quiet, always spending his free time in the armory and oftentimes simply away in the office as he focuses on planning strategies for missions.

The real reward comes when he's back in the quarters. His rough, calloused hands take an agonizingly slow time to pull down your pajama pants, a sharp exhale always leaving his lips when he sees your perfect ass. He should scold you for wearing underwear that's against the dress code, really, he should— but instead he's pulling out his cock like the disgusting pervert he is, rubbing his leaking tip all over your ass, staining it with the sticky fluid.

He knows it's wrong— fuck, he hates himself for it, but he can't help the way he's so obsessed with you, hard cock slipping between your thighs as he thrusts his hips slowly, biting his tongue to prevent the guttural groans threatening to escape his lips. His hands slip under your shirt, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his thrusts grow slightly faster while his hand grasps at your tit tightly, thankful he exhausts you so much during training so you always sleep like a log, not even realizing your Colonel is fucking your thighs every single night, leaving a mess of cum that he always cleans off before he goes back to his own bed.

Training today was so much worse than any other day, giving it your all to prove your worth as a KorTac soldier. You barely manage to take a short shower to wash off the mud all over your body and hair, mumbling a small "Colonel" as a greeting before your exhausted body hits the bed with a loud thud, falling asleep right after.

König is a fucking loser. He's a filthy, disgusting loser and he knows it, his cock already throbbing as he lets the minutes go by, listening to your soft snores until he makes sure you're in a deep sleep. He has something special planned for today— that's why he was so hard on your squad during training.

He slowly slips out of his bed, sneaking into yours as he watches you closely like a predator ready to pounce, baby blue eyes fully focused on your sleeping face for a few minutes before he finally gets to work. He's lucky you fell asleep on your back, managing to slip your underwear and pajama pants off of you easily, calloused hands opening your legs enough to see your cunt. It's his first time seeing it, taking his time to admire it before he lays down in bed, lifting his sniper hood and balaclava enough to be able to taste you.

His long tongue darts out, teasingly licking your slit before he's full-on lapping at your cunt, tongue swirling around and flicking against the sensitive skin. His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding your legs open while he devours your pussy like a man starved, half-lidded eyes now fully rolling to the back of his head as your unconscious body responds to his touch, tasting the grool lubricating your cunt.

He could cum just by eating you out, shit— he was actually pretty close, but that'd be a waste. He hesitantly lets go of your cunt once you're wet enough, licking his lips and tasting you one last time before he gets on his knees, positioning his tip on your entrance. He knows he's fucking big— 8 inches of pure thickness, veins running alongside his shaft while his wet tip pokes out of his foreskin—, so he's careful. It's almost agonizing for him the way he has to be slow while sinking into you, a low groan coming out of his lips when he's able to bottom out.

He has to take a deep breath and stay still to avoid cumming, the way your walls tighten around his fat cock is enough to almost make him cum, but he doesn't want it to go to waste— no, not yet. Who knows when's the next time he'll be able to tire you out this much during training, and he's not waiting any longer. His hips start moving against yours, starting slow before he's building a rhythm he likes, practically slamming into you while his baby blue eyes focus on your pretty face.

He wants to whisper pure filth into your ear, to tell you how much he hopes he gets you pregnant so you can be his pretty little wife in Austria, how he wants to have all of you for the rest of his life, but he has to hold back to avoid waking you up. His hand goes up to lift your shirt enough to reveal your tits, back bending as he goes down, circling your nipple with his tongue before fully latching onto it, sucking hard on it while his cock goes in and out of your sopping cunt.

Your body betrays you even while you're sleeping, tightening up around him and practically begging for his cum. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he sucks on your tit more, using it to muffle the deep moan threatening to escape his lips when he buries his cock all the way in, emptying his balls into your cunt. He hesitantly lets go of your nipple and slowly pulls out, planting a trail of kisses down your stomach until he reaches your core, tongue darting out to lick the mess of your grool and his cum until the evidence of his disgusting act is gone, planting one last kiss on your clit before he slips you back into your underwear and pajama pants, taking one last look at your sleeping face before he gets back into his own bed.

6K notes · View notes

ghostsy · 4 months

Text

The Other

yandere ! ITADORI YUJI x READER x yandere ! SUKUNA

WARNINGS: yandere, misogyny, nsfw, implied noncon

A/N: A bit different than usual, less story and more imagine, I just had a Thought TM that wouldn't leave me alone.

read at your own discretion.

❈ ◦•≫────≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫────≪•◦ ❈

What about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but it’s 19th century Gothic Yuji and Sukuna obsessing over their cute little lab assistant.

Where Yuji finds himself falling in love with the pretty little thing that turned up one night on his doorstep. How could a gentleman refuse a damsel in distress? She’d had nowhere to go, and a woman on the streets is a woman without dignity. He’d done her a favor taking her in, feeding her, clothing her, teaching her everything he knows. Well, almost everything.

And it’s not that she’s not grateful, no, she’s always eager to please, pretty doe eyes blinking up at him with only the purest intentions of proving her worth.

It’s when that voice in his head that he swears isn’t his starts to talk.

Bend her over and spread her legs.

He’d had years of experience tuning the other inside of him out, and begrudgingly grew used to the snide remarks about the so-called useless pussy on legs. But it’s only when his more ignoble half begins to make suggestions with less than savory intentions that he finds himself wavering. He tries to reason that it isn’t him, not really. He can keep it under control. He always has.

It’s the small things really, how she bites the tip of her pencil in concentration during his lectures, determined to be of some use to him. Pretty lips parted oh so delicately, hugging the tip to her teeth.

Let me out. I want to see that whore mouth painted white with my cum.

Or when she blinks dumbly at him from under butterfly lashes, a sheepish giggle and warmth on her cheeks because something he said went in one ear, through her ditzy little brain, and out the other.

Dumb little thing would sink down and suck our cock dry if we told her it was in the name of science, wouldn’t she?

An involuntary twitch of his fingers sends his heart leaping to his throat.

Why don’t you find out?

He drowns it out until the cover of night shields him, locked inside his chambers before giving an inch to the monster. Stroking his cock to the image of her laid out naked and moaning beneath him, legs spread and welcoming. Where the thought of licking the sweat from the skin of her neck has him hurtling off that cliff, and into the resulting ocean of shame.

Little things build up, he finds, and even with her painfully female brain, she begins to notice something off. Though, he finds himself grateful when it isn’t disgust that meets him, but concern. Oh, bless women and their nurturing sensibilities.

She’ll fuss over him like a true lady, mothering but not smothering. Anything he needs to help soothe those pesky migraines. And he’ll finally realize an acceptable way to indulge in his impure thoughts. He’ll make the street urchin he turned lady his wife.

He ignores the rumbling of low laughter that rattles his brain at the thought, deep enough to shake something important but easily forgotten in his bones.

He’ll make all the appropriate preparations for a courtship, determined to woo her as a man would, as a man should. Dress her up, and take her on a promenade through the finest parts of town, introducing her to the finest people at the finest parties.

But he reasons that was his first mistake. Because when he watches her laugh, all airy and bright, intentionally tempting, entirely too close to that brooding dark-haired duke he liked to call brother, white hot fury spills into his veins. That distant familiar desire, heady in all its glory, bloodlust, is his only warning. And the other, who’d been quiet for quite some time, smugly returns.

A whore is a whore no matter the clothes. You thought she’d choose you?

He’ll down glass after glass of scotch, determined to ignore it, but too focused on the brush of her delicate fingers alongside the Duke’s sleeve. There’s a look in his friend’s eye he’s never quite seen before; it’s soft, warm, and it’s all it takes for him to rush to the water closet and hurl up the contents of his stomach.

Pathetic. A man doesn’t wait to be chosen. A man takes what’s his. There’s only one between us. Let me out.

A man takes what’s his. It’s a thought that settles too comfortably in his mind, and he resolves to keep her close. No more outings with those snobbish lords and ladies. Just to save her the embarrassment of exposing the unrefined nature of her peasant birth any more than she already had.

It’ll work for a time, but it’s just a little while later that his brother turned traitor starts turning up on the manor’s doorstep with his own intentions of courtship. Excuses of their preoccupation with scientific breakthroughs and studies only keep him at bay for so long.

I’ll do what you can’t. Let me out.

He begins to wonder whether the beast had been wrong when he catches her wistful stares out the window, too conspicuously asking about the wellbeing of a man that isn’t him. A whore is a whore. When she comes back from town with the excuse of restocking food or supplies, why does she take longer and longer to return each time?

Let Me Out.

He’ll question why it isn’t enough. Why he isn’t enough. He isn’t, not if her attention still turned elsewhere. There’s a beating at the door of his mind that threatens to split at any moment. Finally, mercifully, she’ll relieve the struggle with two words.

He proposed.

He proposed. He proposed. He proposed. He doesn’t hear anything after that, not as she sputters out empty placations and gratitude. Not when she solidifies her intentions of leaving him.

He just responds in kind with two earth-shattering words of his own.

Come out.

#yandere jjk #yandere itadori #yandere sukuna #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere itadori x reader #yandere sukuna x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #i wrote this today so if there's grammar mistakes no there's not

1K notes · View notes

catmelonwriting · 21 days

Text

BSD Men Stepcest Headcannons <3

Warnings: Stepcest, nsfw, this is just generally immoral don't do this, reader has gn pronouns but female anatomy, bondage, noncon + dubcon, for akutagawa it's incest, kinda self inserted in Ranpo's 🥱

Characters: Ranpo, & Akutagawa

A/N: I've wanted to write this for so long but never had that patience to sit down and write so many characters, finally doing it thoughhh,

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa (incest)

- you're his adorable little sibling!! How cute!!

- On the outside, it appears he doesn't like you much, never wanting to converse, touch you, or even be near you

- But when you two are home alone.. it's very different

- He'll pull you onto his lap despite your playful resistance, claiming it's just to keep you safe from any enemies

- You know he's just making up excuses, but who cares? You get to feel your hot older brother getting hard under you.

- He'll rest his hands on your shoulders and his face in your neck as you cook, resisting the urge to bite and lick and kiss and suck.

- When he eventually does start to do all these things, you can't help but tease him for his ' brotherly ' love .

- Slowly rocks your hips back and forth while you're sitting on his lap, so little movement it would barely be noticeable, but you felt it, and you know he knew what he was doing, and you loved it.

You wake up to dark, tight tendrils around all your limbs, spreading your legs open and keeping your hands above your head, the cold air conditioning hits your cold pussy and makes you whimper, squirming around. This is something that you had to deal with quite often, and if you'd ever confront him about it, he'd deny it, look at you disgusted and say you had a wet dream, even though you both know what happened had been very real.

All your squirming earned you was a 'tsk, tsk..' and a small slap on your bare thigh. You slowly open your eyes, looking at your older brother standing in front of you. "R-ryūnosuke- why always while I'm sleeping..? Let me rest.." you whine.

"Shut up and let me enjoy my meal." He grumbles, positioning himself between your legs, you feel his tongue press against you and you arch your back, a moan falling from your soft lips.. this was going to be another long night.

Edogawa Ranpo (Stepcest)

( im so bad at writing ranpo please forgive me )

- His mother and your father had married recently..

- You did not like him, one bit. He was creepy! You're freshly eighteen and he's twenty six.. yet he's still so touchy.

- He would grab your hands and your shoulders, tilt your chin up to look at him, put a hand on your bare thigh, etc

- your father claimed "Its just brotherly love! You can ignore it."

- But what you couldn't ignore was the growing arousal in your core everytime he touched you. You thought you were keeping it a pretty good secret from your parents.. but..

- Ranpo had always been, really, really, smart, you weren't sure where he worked but you knew it must have been something to do with his intelligence.

- You knew he knew. And you hated it, you hated seeing his stupid smirk or his shit eating grin everytime you'd excuse yourself to the bathroom to go plunge your fingers deep into your pussy and pretend it was his dick.

You were in your room, getting dressed, face to the wall when you heard him. "Hey, sugar." You can't see him, but you know damn well he has that stupid smile on his face.

"Adults are gone for the night. Nobody has to know!" He smiles, gripping your wrists in his hands and shoving them away from your chest, against the wall. "*You're* an adult!" You groan, embarrassed at having your chest exposed to someone so... So..

"Get out, Ranpo. I'm changing." You say through gritted teeth, trying so hard not to rub your thighs together at the thought of him seeing you completely naked. "Oh please, don't act like you don't want me here." He laughs, walking towards you and spinning you around so he can see your bare chest. You immediately gasp and cross your arms over your chest. "Ranpo! Get out..!" You whine, taking a step back and bumping into your wall, standing on your bra and shirt that sat on the floor.

You gasp at the sudden feeling of his mouth touching your nipple, he looks up at you with that stupid smirk on his face before giving it another kitten lick. "So are you." He grins.

#ranpo x reader #ryūnosuke akutagawa x reader #edogawa ranpo x reader #akutagawa x reader #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader stepcest #akutagawa ryuunosuke #ranpo edogawa #bsd #x reader #ranpo is so fine im gonna cry #i need ranpo #i need akutagawa more though

147 notes · View notes

dark-fics-4-you · 3 months

Note

In Crocodile Tears; after Coryo rapes the reader, what would his reaction be when he found out she actually was a virgin?

This inspired me so enjoy this blurb

warnings: implied noncon, implied oral (m!receiving), slut shaming, choking, discussion about loss of virginity, violence

“Oh fuck.” Coriolanus’ voice reached your ears, muffled by the fuzziness of your hearing. “Hey Y/N.”

Your cheek was against the floor, tears still pooled in the creases of your eyes and trickled down your nose. You hadn’t moved a muscle since he pulled out of your sore cunt. You flinched when he drew closer to you again and grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Y/N, I’m talking to you,” he hissed, gripping your chin tighter.

“What?” The sensation of speaking felt strange to you, like you were both talking in a foreign language you could barely follow.

“You’re bleeding, why are you bleeding?” His words didn’t make any sense to you and you didn’t understand what he was asking until he held up his fingers which were strained with crimson.

His assault had broken your hymen, you realized with a shiver. And based on the amount of blood you could see, you realized that he had been so rough with you you were bleeding from more than just your hymen.

Your skin crawled as you remembered the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you for the first time and you felt like you could be sick.

It seemed to dawn on you both at the same time and Coriolanus looked at you in shock, “you’re a..?”

“A virgin?” You answered, voice trembling. Creating sounds felt like rubbing two pieces of sandpaper together, your throat was so dry. “I was. But, Coriolanus, you took every single one of my firsts tonight,” you quietly admitted.

His eyes widened at that, mouth falling open in surprise as he looked at you through a new light for the first time.

If you were a virgin and you had never given any professors sexual favors how had you been ranked so far above him? Could it be possible that you had passed your classes on your own? That you actually were just smarter than him?

The thought enraged him. It just couldn’t be possible. He didn’t want to accept it.

You could be trying to deceive him, but the look in your broken eyes told him the truth.

Not to mention he couldn’t forget how tight you felt when he pushed himself into your cunt, you were gripping him like a vice.

“You’re-” he cut himself off, quiet voice quivering with rage. “You’re lying, Y/N, you’re just trying to get in my head!”

“Why would I lie about this? What the fuck do I have to gain?” You were looking at Coriolanus now, but he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Shut up, you’re not going to make me feel guilty for any of this-”

“If you’re feeling guilty maybe that’s just your conscience,” you whispered under your breath, but Coriolanus finally looked up at you, fire burning in his eyes.

In an instant he was on top of you again, straddling your waist and pining your arms down with one hand while the other wrapped around your throat, crushing your windpipe.

“What the fuck did you just say to me? For a supposed virgin, you’re a real fucking brat, Y/N.” The blond hissed above you as you thrashed against him. Your nails clawed at his hand, but Coriolanus was relentless, choking you harder the more you fought back. “So what if you really were a virgin? You still acted like a whore once I had my cock down your throat, I mean, no one buys your little school girl act, Y/N.”

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at your classmate in terror and disgust. He eased up on his pressure before releasing you and you gasped for air when he did.

Coriolanus smirked as he looked down at you, enjoying your pathetic sniffling and the redness that lingered around your neck.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what he now knew, he couldn’t face the fact that he had been wrong about you. It was scary how fast his rationalizations of tonight changed inside of him.

It didn’t matter if you were actually a virgin until tonight because you still forced his hand by threatening to speak up about him cheating.

He didn’t have any choice.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this, do you understand?” He threatened you lowly. “Because if you do, I will find you and make you regret it, Y/N. You’re not getting in between me and the Plinth prize.”

You stared up at him for a few moments, bottom lip trembling and tears spilling past your lashes, before finally lowering your eyes and nodding.

If these were the lengths he was willing to go to just because you threatened to report him, you didn’t want to find out what might happen if you actually went through with it.

“That’s a good girl,” Coriolanus purred and your stomach turned with nausea at his teasing tone.

You flinched when he grabbed your hair and dragged you up to him roughly. He towered over you as you kneeled on the ground. When he thrust his hips forward and his dick poked at your lips you felt that familiar terror rising in your chest again and his next words confirmed your fears.

“Now, why don’t you be a doll and clean me up?”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow noncon #dark!coriolanus snow #crocodile tears #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games tbosas #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

324 notes · View notes

b1mbodoll · 6 months

Note

BUNNY HANNIE IM GONNA SCREAM!!!

pslplspplsplspls elaborate on ur tags 🙏🙏🙏🙏

love, 🔗

pairings: junhan x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + somnophilia + noncon + dryhumping + dacryphilia + panty stealing + masturbation + ear pulling + degradation + creampies

💌: my little love ur so cute i can always count on u to be there when the junie brainrot is bad!!!!! mwah

❤︎₊ ⊹ bunny hybrid! junhan is the shyest little pervert!!!!! he dreams of using you for his pleasure and has the nastiest thoughts about you, his sweet and caring owner n it makes him feel so guilty :( he wants to be so good for you but it’s almost impossible! especially when he can hear you touching yourself in the other room :( his loppy little ears pick up on every single moan and whine you let out, making his foot thump when you cum wishing he was between your legs and worshipping your pretty cunt

❤︎₊ ⊹ speaking of his wet dreams, they start to affect him bad. he sneaks into your bed at night under the guise of nightmares and waits until you finally fall back asleep, freeing his cock before laying behind you and gripping your hips tightly while he humps your ass <3 he can’t help himself and lets out breathy groans, cock sensitive and his tail twitching wildy from the pleasure he feels. junhan doesnt stop until he reaches his climax, thick load spurting on your sleeping form, globs of it painting his tummy and your back making him cry because he feels so so bad for using you without your knowledge

❤︎₊ ⊹ one night you catch him jerking his cock with your dirty panties and you’re so flustered, cheeks hot as you try to reprimand him but the bunny boy doesnt stop. he apologizes through tears and literally wails when you pet the base of his ears to console him, emptying his balls on the fabric as soon as he feels the stimulation. he leans into the touch and clings to you, wrapping his arms around you as he humps your leg, begging you to continue rubbing his sensitive ears. it doesn’t take long for him to cum again, not when you wrap your hand around the soft fur and tug hard, pussy dripping at the sight of his fucked out face

❤︎₊ ⊹ when junhan finally fucks you, he loses his mind <3 your sweet little bunny is gone and in his place is a desperate bully, throwing degrading remarks at you and calling you disgusting for “teasing” him. says you’re an easy little whore for letting him ruin you ‘nd fills you up with cum over and over until you’re unconscious, reduced to a drooling cockslut as he takes what he wants

360 notes · View notes

prettybabybaby · 1 year

Text

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: noncon, dark!rafe, fem!reader, drug use, unprotected sex

¡ outer banks masterlist !

"oh god," you pout, eyes shut tight as you pinch your nose, "that burns."

rafe chuckles beside you and you hear him snort his own line, collecting himself immediately, unphased by the sensation. "i warned you."

you felt your heart beat in your ears, speeding and thumping harshly. your eyes opened abruptly, a rush running through your veins. rafe watches you, amused when you look up at him, trying to adjust to the foreign feeling.

“c’mon, you can take it,” rafe swipes his thumb under your nose, and you pull your face away, a grimace playing on your features at his tone.

your fingers glide across your face instead, a noise of disgust bubbling in your throat as you wipe your hands near the hem of your shorts. rafe tuts and you roll your eyes, pushing against his chest as you brush past him, rejoining the party taking place a thin wall away.

rafe unsurprisingly doesn’t follow, a second line likely making its way up his nose as you shut the heavy door. you aren’t sure why you agreed to follow him into the secluded room, always trying your best to avoid isolated situations with the man that couldn’t seem to stay away from you. that, on top of the fact that you were never one to indulge in more than a joint and a few drinks. but the hard drug provided a momentary elation you craved, a racing mind and careless, reckless attitude.

your mind swirls as you dance around, feeling weightless and blissful as your hands slide up your body, hips swaying in time with the rhythm of the music. you can feel rafe's burning stare, having caught his eyes more than once but you ignore it, rolling your head on your shoulders.

the ghost of a hand hovers over your hips, the featherlight brush of its fingers tickling your sides. your head whips around, your set of blown pupils meeting rafe’s. the substance coursing through your system has you shoving him off with more aggression than usual, a huff and look of pure disgust etching itself onto your face. “get off,” you seethe, patience vanishing at the small action. the blond’s eyes harden, a tick in his jaw as you march away.

this time, he does follow, frustration clear in the air that surrounds him when he grabs hold of your arm, long legs hauling you after him. you resist, angry protests of his name falling on deaf ears as you’re pushed into an empty room.

you blink, brows cinching together at the look in his eyes, the color of his blue irises a thin ring around his blown pupils. they disappear from sight, his head dipped to mouth at your throat.

“rafe,” you say sternly, “move.” his touch slides down your arms, following the curve of your hips.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you push at his chest, frustrated at the little harm you caused. he isn’t deterred, leaning towards you to brush his lips over yours again. your hand move before your mind does, colliding with the flesh of his cheek as you attempt to wiggle out of his grasp.

his hands find your hips again, pushing against you until your back hits the wall behind you. “you don’t wanna try that again,” he says, voice holding an eery calmness as his hold grows painful, fingertips pressing into your flesh. “just relax.”

a sudden sensation ripples through you as rafe reaches for the button on your shorts, popping it swiftly and sighing when the demon falls to the ground. your thighs push against your other, the confidence that once filled your body dwindling.

his fingers glide beneath the thin fabric of your underwear, forcing his hand between your folds and finding the nub that makes your thighs flex and a your mouth fall open with a gasp.

the blond presses his lips to yours again, hungrily moving against them as his fingers prod at your opening that drips around his fingers.

“rafe,” you panic, body tensing as his arms hooks under your knee.

“i said relax,” he breathes, using his free hand to shove his own shorts down, exposing himself. “don’t pretend to don’t want this. didn’t you hear how wet you are?”

he pushes into you with a lewd moan, stretching your walls with his hardened cock. “y’always acting like you don’t want me,” he mumbles, hips rocking against you.

your breath hitches as his nose nudges the side of your neck, feeling like your body’s betraying you with its reaction. “rafe, please, stop.”

he thrusts into you harshly, nestling his entirety into your pulsing cunt either each movement. your vision goes hazy, mouth falling open with airy whimpers.

“pushing me away like a stuck-up bitch, like i’m not what’s best for you. like i can’t give you what you need.” he chuckles when you whine again, trembling as you fight to stand, “look at you now.”

736 notes · View notes

mhathotfic · 1 month

Text

This is a brothers Grimm inspired retelling of sleeping beauty and my first proper somno and noncon piece so please be gentle with me and give me some constructive feedback so I can improve!.

Warnings: somnophilia, noncon, afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal penetration described, oral(reader receiving), delusional/yandere!Todoroki, fantasy au, I feel like it's open-ended but could be left as a standalone one shot

Pairing: prince!Shouto Todoroki x sleeping beauty!reader

Our story begins with a prince who’s grown restless under his father’s strict control.

The prince known as Shouto went on many trips, all of which were under secrecy to avoid the wrath of the mad king Enji. For if he was discovered by his father, he’d surely be severely punished.

Maybe with a beating, or perhaps isolation, or worse his siblings would suffer for his actions.

He couldn’t risk the consequences, that’s what he told himself when had discovered an old castle in ruins.

‘You’ll be late’ he tells him as he examines the thick overgrowth of thorny vines that wrap around the aged and crumbling walls.

‘You need to return’ he reminds himself, cutting through overgrowth and forcing his way into the old palace, ignoring his better judgment in favor of his curiosity.

If he were truly honest, he was hoping to find whatever valuables were left behind so he could keep on the run and never return home. So he may dare to be selfish and not worry about anyone else’s ill fate, if he were honest that is.

Clearly whoever had owned this castle was long gone, old rotting furniture and aged paintings that were caked in thick grime and dirt.

He almost turned back, nothing here could possibly be of worth right? And yet, on some sort of fateful divine intervention, he felt compelled to look around a little longer.

For what, he did not know, he certainly could not have even imagined he would discover the perfectly preserved body of a beautiful young maiden.

She appeared roughly his age when she was put to rest, he thinks it such a shame that she must have passed young.

He steps closer to observe her better, shocked to witness her chest rising and falling. He presses a hand against her soft face, noting the warmth and softness of her skin.

He knows it’s insane, her clothes were dusty and the room around them was clearly aged decades, perhaps centuries, but she is most assuredly alive just asleep.

Certainly, this must be a curse and undoubtedly one he was destined to break. Why else would he be so compelled to go searching for her?

But how?

If the stories of witches and their evil deeds and tricks were to be believed, then a kiss should do. So with this in mind, he leaned down to capture her lips, certain that the spark he felt was a sign from the heavens.

Soon his princesses would awaken and she would be so greatly impressed and grateful that she would marry him without question.

He waits what feels like one, two, three, four whole minutes, and watches in confused frustration when she remains peacefully asleep.

‘Then a kiss is not enough’ he comes to realize ‘I need to do more, I have to show her she was meant to be my wife’. It made perfect sense to him, there was no need to question himself or his motives behind this because why else would a simple kiss not work?

Clearly, he needed to consummate this divine union.

He shuddered at the thought, the reality of the situation hitting him suddenly and making him unsure if this was all a delusion of grandeur.

Maybe he should reevaluate and deal with the creeping sense of disgust in himself, or maybe this deep and sudden desire for her was truly divine?

But this was unquestionably a sinful crime in any other circumstance, something a valiant and righteous prince like himself should never allow themself to indulge in.

But his urge to move forward must be a sign, it’s brought him this far, and he wouldn’t even be here if he had ignored it.

If he did follow his compulsion, the consequences would be well worth the actions right? Just a husband committing to his wife, that’s what this was.

It isn’t wrong for him to lay his hands on her sleeping body, positioning her to aid him in removing her old clothes, and laid his hot lips on the warm flush that was revealed.

Allowing himself to travel every exposed inch until he had her sex in close sight. He laved his tongue over it in curiosity. Humming in approval when he found her to secrete the sweetest nectar he had ever had the pleasure of tasting.

He lapped away at her as if he would never be allowed to again, no, as if he had never been fed. As if he had been starving for longer than he could remember and this would be the only meal he would have in who knew how long.

He found himself greedily pressing his fingers into her little hole, desperately trying to drag out more of her essence. Long slender fingers moving back and forth, dragging against her inner walls and unknowingly inching a dam of sorts closer and closer to snapping.

It almost startled him when she squeaked out a pleasant-sounding moan, practically pouring her heavenly nectar like a fountain for him. Her sex tightening and convulsing around his fingers, he finds himself enraptured by her involuntary response to him; assured he was right to think that this was the correct action.

He resettled himself between her legs so his sex was in line with her sopping wet warmth quickly. He would take his time to know her body properly later but for now, he would focus on introducing his body to her own.

He takes a breath, takes himself in hand, and rests against her entrance. Pausing to steel his nerves before pushing into her with a single thrust. Savoring how her wet warmth parted around him and held so tightly.

‘This couldn’t be wrong when it felt so heavenly’ he thinks, throwing his head back.

He hears a murmur of discomfort from her, he figures he must be her first lover. Good. This doubtlessly meant that the divines had been saving her for him.

She was meant for this, meant to be his love, to be the vessel for his seed.

So, there was no need to hold back on her until she’d taken it all in her womb, right?

He silences her involuntary whines with hot wanton kisses, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth and explore every bit of it. Uncaring of the lack of response, he has plenty of time to know what her kiss truly felt like once she awakens.

He lets himself indulge in her. Dragging his finger along the little pearl of pleasure that made her leak more of her essence. His hips slapped against her at a rough and quick pace, chasing a pleasure that was well worth the effort.

He wondered, would she accept loving this rough when she did wake? Would she want the way he was being so forceful or would she rather him be gentle and tender? He supposed he could be gentle.

It did sound rather nice, but he would honestly prefer this. He thinks maybe she would too, her sex twitched and spasmed so desperately around him in response to his actions. Almost as if to wring out his love, it’s hard to imagine she wasn’t or wouldn’t enjoy this.

He wondered if she would call his name loudly, he could imagine it clearly based on the sounds she was already making.

‘S-Shou! Oh, Shouto! Please!’ she’d cry out, on the verge of spilling over again and pulling him with her, accepting every drop of his white-hot love inside her.

He barely catches himself from clasping on top of her, he can feel himself starting to stir again inside of her. How must this look to her?

“W-who are you?! W-what are you do—!”.

He cuts her off with a kiss, frowning when she jerks her face away. Didn’t she understand that he was her husband now?!

“Your husband,” he says it calmly, almost coldly as his hips pick up speed again. It would seem he’d have to teach her this new role as his wife.

And this is where we leave, with a king and his queen. One will live happily ever after, the other has no option but to be “happy” with her new life.

Tag list: @when-you-are-just-done @justabratsworld @kkatsukiswife

#shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader smut #shouto x reader #shouto x reader smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader smut #tw somno #tw non con #fantasy au

130 notes · View notes

nomercyanywhere · 7 months

Text

fuck or die ー ₊⁺ ⋆ ftm reader

look out!! this contains・> gun + knifeplay, creepy + stalker + obsessed and possessive leon, he threatens to murder reader if he doesn't let him fuck, noncon (?) ntr so tread carefully!!

ーーーーー

your eyes flutter open... the air was tinted red, the scent of it, a very strong metallic aroma, your hands bound behind you and your feet tied to the legs of the chair, you were also missing your pants.. everything was blurry... where am I?

when your vision became clear, in front of you lied multiple corpses, what the fuck? their faces unknown, thank god... but still. who in the fuck would do this?

caught in a trance by the sight, you didn't notice a figure standing in the shadows, someone, someone was there with you

when they stepped forward, you jumped since you were unaware there was someone else with you, the moment they stepped into the light... you had a clear vision of his face

dark, dark bags under his eyes, a knife in his hand, dripping with blood, splatters of it on his face and shirt, his blonde hair shined in the light, "leon...?" you quietly cry out, your eyes began watering

"y/n~" he smiles at you, his cheeks a feint shade of pink "you're finally awake, do you like my present? he looks down at the deceased

"you.. did this?" your voice cracked "why?!" you yelled at him "they were staring a little bit too long baby, they were probably undressing you or fucking you with their eyes, who knows?" he replies, it sounds almost as if, he didn't regret any of it

"what the fuck leon??!! their still innocent people! they have families!!" you shouted, but tried to cool it, who know what he might do next? "well they probably should've thought about that before laying their disgusting eyes on you" he caresses your cheek

"do you know, how many other creeps I haven't killed yet because I've been too busy fapping to you? I watch you through your window last night~ just who are you thinking about while playing with your pussy that hard? hm?" he shoves his hand in your underwear "was it me?"

his fingers rub your cunt and when he takes his hand out "what's this? you're fucking wet? " he chuckled, he wasn't kidding, you were soaked, you pathetically look down and see a dark patch on your undies

"do you get off to this prince?" he grabs his combat knife and carefully dragged the dull side on your clit, you were shaking, every where "careful now.. I might hurt you"

"a-are you gonna be kill me?" you squeezed you legs together tightly, fat tears begin falling down your cheeks, he removes his hand from your bit "of course not..." he tells you before kissing your cheek

"what do you wanna do with me...?" your voice almost like a broken whisper, sniffles and gasps "I want to keep you all to myself y/n, only me" he went behind you and took his knife out

he slid the knife under the ropes that had restrained you and cut it, leaving marks on your wrists, after doing so he makes his way infront of you once more and knelt down, cutting both the ropes that held your ankles

he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers, he pulled you up and into him, your chest pressed against his own, and his gloved hands, caressing your back, fingertips tracing your spine, going up and down

you were too scared to move, too afraid what he might do if you did "l-leo-" "you're so beautiful.. everything about you" he cuts you off, then said under his breath "so fucking sexy.." his exhaling on your ear, his tongue licking the lobe, and his hands now squeezing and grabbing your ass

"I want you so bad baby.. " he murmured, kisses down your neck and collar bones till he reached your nethers, he knelt down before ripping your undies, tossing them to the side and looked at your messy cunt,

"already so wet for me" he pulls his gun out "a gun ー?!"and began rubbing the tip of it on your clit, he playfully pushes it in and then takes it out "don't worry sweetheart, it's empty" the cold muzzle of it was enough to make you shiver

"but if you misbehave, I might just reload it" he says then pulls the trigger, nothing, thank god, you sigh out of relief, he chuckles at you reaction "on your knees boy" he stood up

once you got down, he puts the gun to your head "y'know what to do" he points at his zipper.. oh.. you pressed your face into his hardon, then took a massive whiff, inhaling his musk, after kissing it and licking it through his pants

you bite onto the zipper and pulled it down, then his boxers, his cock springing out slapped you in the face, not that hard though "so.. now what? hm?" the gun pressed the side of your head "suck." you obediently nod, and began licking him all over, his tip, this shaft even playing with his balls

you finally took him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, he big, very, you can't even take him in balls deep

you feel his hands behind your head, then pushed your head into his dick, your nose burried in his pubes and his entire dick now snug in your throat, your gags are muffled

"fffuck yes... oh shit" he kept you there for a while, your tight throat keeping him warm, his hips moved subtly, not long after he pulls you off his dick, strings of saliva on his now wet dick "stand up, m'gonna fucking breed you"

when you got on your feet, he grabs your arm and lays you down on the nearest bed, he forcefully opened your legs, revealing a cute, wet little pussy "fuck.." he lines his dick with your hole then rams all of him into you

the pleasure and pain ran through your entire body, his curved dick hit your very sensitive gspot, he started fast and rough, not giving you time to adjust, you squirm at the pain "ghk-! if you move again, I'm gonna fucking shoot you!" he growled, shoving his gun into your mouth and began thrusting again

his aggressive rutting caused the metal bedframe to creek, his moans fill your ear, beads of sweat from his forehead fall onto your face, your noises canceled by his gun

his thrusts became sloppy, a white ring around your hole, his cum slowly dripping out "f-uck... m'gonna knock you up -!" he plunged himself into you and came deeeep inside, his hips pressed against your ass, still pumping y'full of him

he slowly pulls out, watching as his messy cock slides out of your ruined cunt, he looks at you, face messy with all kinds of fluid.. tears, sweat, saliva, cum etc

he takes the gun out of you mouth and puts his aside, he goes in for a kiss, your tongue tasted like metal, most likely from the pistol, you pull away to breath "you're mine now.. all mine"

he kisses the tip of your nose before grabbing your phone, and taking a pic of your cum filled pussy while his thumb spread you open, letting his cum ooze out..

he sends the pic to your boyfriend

ーーーーー

#leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy smut #re4 smut #ftm reader #m! reader #male reader #nomercyanywhereliterature

311 notes · View notes

hystixia · 9 months

Text

BREAK IN.

SUMMARY 、JEFF PAYS HIS OBSESSION A VISIT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

FEATURING 、JEFF THE KILLER X F!READER

WARNINGS 、NONCON, SOMNOPHILIA, BRUISING, STALKING, CREAMPIE, BLOOD, BLOOD KINK (?), MENTIONS OF KILLING, IMPLIED CORRUPTION KINK, MENTIONS OF KNIFEPLAY, PANTY STEALING

No matter how hard he tried to think on a reason, Jeff could never really pinpoint what made him so infatuated with you from the very start. Maybe it was simply the fact your body was alluring and called to him, maybe it was the way your big doe eyes looked cautiously over your shoulder when you were walking home alone at night after a long shift at work. Or maybe it was just the way you seemed so pure and innocent, something he was the complete opposite of.

Whatever it might’ve been that had convinced Jeff months ago to follow you home one late evening and watch you every night through your window, he’s glad he acted on that impulse because the sight before him tonight was just too inviting to ignore.

Your body— motionless as you slept soundly —curled up into the soft silks of your sheets and a cute pajama set clinging to your figure and damn near teasing him with the way it accentuated the curves of your body as you lie on your side facing away from him. The fluffy pink and white of the soft fabric complimented your figure as you dreamed peacefully, occasionally twisting in your sleep only to settle back down. A small plushie of your favorite animal held tight in your grip against your chest.

Had it been anyone else, a simple burglar looking to get their hands on something to sell, they would’ve simply gotten inside and stolen things from your home on a night like this and left swiftly, but Jeff wasn’t here to do any of those types of things. He was here to indulge himself in a sick fantasy he’s had for a long time.

His hands push your window up— knowing it’s always unlocked from his previous intrusions —the soft sound that follows as it rises isn’t enough to wake you nor is the sound of wind blowing outside or his calculated footsteps as he pushes himself through the open window into your dark bedroom and stands up straight.

He should feel disgusted with himself but all he can do is stifle a cackle at how easy all of this was. Now that he was inside like so many times before you couldn’t do anything to stop him from taking anything he wanted, could you? Wouldn’t that be entertaining to see in the future; you trying so hard to get him off you while big sparkly tears fall down your pretty face. The thought alone had his cock hardening in his slacks.

He nears the side of the bed, his shadow is dark and large, completely engulfing the shape of your sleeping form as he takes in the sight of the peaceful expression you wore on your face, soft lashes kissing your cheeks as soft breaths left you. Oh if only you’d opened those pretty doe eyes of yours and stared up at him with that fear he wanted to see on your face so badly.

Your bed shifts under his weight and he’s slow with his movements, careful not to wake you, the sleeping princess. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten inside someone’s room and gotten face to face with them before they were ever aware, but he’d make sure you never knew of this happening until he wanted you to. He liked leaving you completely oblivious to the danger you were in.

Your brows furrowed together as you grabbed at the plush between your fingers harder, a huff through your nose before your features relax once more and if he cared, Jeff would’ve been interested in what you were dreaming about. Too bad he didn’t.

He stills himself, laying beside you who’s curled up and facing away from him. His eyes move down to the cotton shorts that look just a little too tight for you to sleep comfortably. You’re lucky he’s a kind man, taking time and skilled movement to slip them down to rest against your ankles while the sight of your panties comes into view now. The white fabric littered with pink hearts and he considers taking them afterwards as payment for being so gentle with you.

He sighs, touching your hair and grinning widely before he leans closer and takes a sniff. The soft flowery scent is welcoming and familiar to him. He’s addicted to it most nights when he’s stuck with the image of you in his head and a tight grip on his throbbing cock as he pumps it ruthlessly to his fantasies containing you.

His hands ghost over your body down to the soft panties that hug the curve of your ass, resting his hands there with his eyes fixed on the back of your head in case you were to stir awake at the eerie coldness of his touch. Nothing happens, and a crazed smile that stretches his open scars blooms on his face.

His fingers carefully tug under the band of your underwear, listening closely to you as he slips them down slowly. He couldn’t rush opening such a perfect present can he?

The soft fabric meets your shorts and stays with them bunched up at your ankles as he trails his index back up your leg, enjoying the way goosebumps bloom against your skin on his wake and he rests the flat of his palm against your soft hip stifling another laugh at how stupid this was, how stupid you were. Anyone would’ve woken up by now but you were just so tired weren’t you? Why wouldn’t he take advantage of that fact? He wouldn’t have gone to these lengths to get his dick wet if he gave a damn about your comfort in such a situation.

His pants and boxers are pulled down just enough to free his hard cock that throbs at the fantasy that plays on loop in his head. He’s always wanted to do this to you and he almost can’t contain his crazed excitement as he lifts your leg up just enough to slide his cock through, resting against your entrance as he takes one last look over your peaceful body before slipping his blunt tip past your lower lips as warmth envelopes his length.

It’s tight, so fucking tight and hard to move when your pussy struggles to take just the head of his dick, a soft whine escaping you but you don’t wake even now as he takes his time sliding deeper into your cunt while your plush walls squeeze him.

His fingers dig into your soft thigh and he coos quietly at the sight as your pussy flutters around him and a pained whimper leaves your throat as your hands grab harshly at the plushie you’ve unknowingly shoved into your face. He’s not even halfway in and you can barely handle him. It makes his cock twitch painfully against your sticky walls as he inhales through his nose against one of your many pillows, the scent of iron flooding his senses again and he becomes aware of the sticky and fresh red splotches against his hoodie again.

There’s going to be a lot of red adorning your silky white sheets where he lays in the morning and a achy full feeling between your legs when you wake up.

He pushed a little further before pulling back and pushing back in and after a few slow and short thrusts your soft sounds turn more angelic and your walls accommodate to his length as he presses further, taking a few more thrusts before he’s growing impatient and shoving the rest of his length into your tight cunt with a muffled groan.

“Stop! Oh, haah, stop..” He stiffens against you when your small voice breaks the silence, reaching for his knife that’s about to fall off the side of your bed before you relax and a quiet snore leaves you.

You’re still sleep.

He grins as he retracts his hand from his weapon and grabs at your plush hip, his other hand snaking under your body to grab at your warm side.

Your walls hug him tight as he pulls back before sinking back into that overwhelming warmth, he can feel your cervix pressed tight against his tip as he begins thrusting into you, nothing fast or hard enough to wake you.

He curses under his breath while your pussy grows wetter and sweet sounds leave your lips as he fucks you in your sleep. It’s like a sick dream has came to life for him and he’s living in it.

His thrusts grow a bit faster, a little rougher. Experimenting with the possibility of what would wake you and even still you remain asleep as your body rocks with his and your bed creaks softly with each movement.

He wants you to wake up, to feel his knife pressed against your throat as he fucks your tight pussy and fills you up. He wants to see you sob and beg for your life, cry for him to stop what he’s doing even with a knife to your neck and the silent promise of slitting your throat if you fight back. Though the idea of you fighting back, putting up a struggle as futile as it may be, sends a rush of heat to his twitching cock.

The ideas make his abdomen tense up with building pleasure and he grits his teeth as he ruts into you a little harder than before, hearing a sweet sound leave you when he presses against a gummy spot inside you that makes you arch against him before he’s thrusting up into that spot repeatedly.

Your cute moans are addicting to listen to as he plays out his fantasy in his head, growing closer to his release with each passing second as his fingers dig into your plush hips enough to cause bruises.

If he was really coherent and not lost way your drooling cunt sucked him in, he’d wake you up right now so you knew what was happening to your poor pussy but he also loved the idea of leaving you to wonder what that warm feeling between your trembling legs was when you wake up in a few hours.

Maybe you’d be confused, reaching under your cotton shorts to feel no underwear and come into contact with your bare cunt, sticky and drooling his cum. Maybe you’d be shocked, thinking it was you and that you had a wet dream during the night. You’ve never had a guy fuck you before anyways, you wouldn’t notice a difference or be aware in the slightest that a scary murderer on the loose in your neighborhood came and fucked you in your sleep.

His jaw clenches tight as he reaches down to your puffy pearl that begs for his attention and he rubs harsh circles into the bundle of nerves, your body jumping slightly and shaking against him as your face contorts in pleasure even while sleeping. For a moment, his twisted mind hopes you’re dreaming about this right now.

He hisses out a low groan as his hips go sloppy in their rhythm and his balls grow tight before he presses himself flush against your ass, his cock twitching as hot ropes of his seed spurt into your welcoming pussy. His thumb never leaving your clit until your whines grow in pitch and your walls spasm around him as you cum, your hips jerking ever so slightly against him but it’s hard to notice when he’s holding you in place so firmly.

He takes heavy breaths through his nose against your pillow, hand releasing it’s tight grip on your hip as he comes down from his high and glances down at where you’re both connected before pulling out, a trail of his cum following but being pushed back inside with his index shortly after. He takes a glance at the cute panties and tugs them off before pulling your shorts up to rest snug on your warm hips like they were before he had snuck in. The faintest sight of a developing bruise on your hip is visible in what little light is casted by the moon through your window and it makes his mangled scars twist in a sick grin.

He’s quick to pull his pants back up and stand to his feet without waking you, knife in hand as he steals one more look at your resting figure before smirking and leaving through the window he came in from. He closes it softly behind him and he stays there out of view, waiting for when you might open your eyes and stretch with a big yawn before noticing the ache between your legs, like always. He grips the material of your panties in his hand, saving them for later use as he eyes your sleeping form.

If only he had a phone with him to record your inevitable reaction to his disgusting crimes.

#jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta smut #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x y/n

375 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Unsolicited 31

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

You thrash as Lloyd pins your wrists to the bed. You snarl and snap at him as he keeps out of your mouth's snare. The fury swells and adds to the bleary chaos of your being.

"Let me go!" You bark, "you fucking bastard!" You curl your fingers and push against him as hard as you can, "god, you always have to RUIN everything."

"Baby girl, let's calm down–"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down," you sneer, "you calm down."

He sighs as he presses his lips tight and his blue eyes bore into you. You kick your feet, lurching your body as you try to break free. He stands, still holding you down, and lifts a knee onto the bed. He straddles you beneath him as you writhe helplessly.

"Baby, you don’t gotta be so mad. We were having fun–"

"I wasn't," you snip, "I hate you."

He snorts and his eyes flick away with a tint of amusement, "you don't hate what I do to you."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Let's tone it down," he squeezes your wrists as his gaze returns to you, "take a breath, sweetheart."

You narrow your eyes at him and growl. You inhale through your nose deeply and hold it in your chest. You let it out slow and nod, every inch of you easing back limply. You swallow and flutter your lashes up at him. It's not the first time you've dealt with a jackass.

"Fine," you say, "I'm calm."

"Take a few more."

You roll your eyes and do as he says, blowing out, breathing in, keeping a steady, even flow. He relents as he releases your arms and you don't move. He stays sat atop you as he reaches to rub his shoulder where you bit him.

"You're a fiesty little–"

You punch him in the ribs and shove him back as you pop up. The air is knocked out of him with the sharp jab as you wriggle free of his trap. You crawl across the bed as he groans but don't make it far as he catches you by the ankle.

"Sneaky," he yanks you so your leg falls straight and you fight to drag yourself away from him, "you really are a handful."

He rips you away from the edge of the bed and snakes his hand around your neck. He bends over you as he grips your skill between his large hands, curving your spine unnaturally.

"I kinda like you like this, honey. I don't think I've ever been harder in my life."

"You're disgusting," you spit and pick at his thick fingers, trying to peel them away from your jaw.

"You love it. Admit it."

"Never."

"The way I had you laid out like a buffet, you should be begging me for more."

"I'm begging you to fuck off," you throw and elbow back and glance off his side.

He grunts and brings his knee up to your back to push you to your stomach. He keeps you under his leg as he huffs and lets go of your head. He clucks, as if confounded.

"What do I do with you, then?"

"I don't care," you stretch your arms towards the end of the bed, struggling to get away, "get offffffff!"

He tuts and his weight shifts. A soft clink followed by a smooth friction before he grabs your hands and twists them behind you. You bounce beneath his knee and bristle hotly.

"Get the fuck off me– what are you doing?"

He winds the leather around your wrists tightly as you try to pull your arms apart. He's too strong and the alcohol has you uncoordinated and shaky. He secures the belt around you and exhales.

"You're a bitch," you turn your cheek against the red duvet, "you bitch boy."

He backs off of you and you roll over with a dizzy effort.

"Bitch boy," you taunt as you kick out at him again.

He stands and lingers just beside the bed, shedding his jacket as he watches you. His mouth is slanted between irritation and delight. As he unbuttons his shirt he gets closer, your toes grazy the front of his pants.

"I just needa tire you out, huh?"

"Try it, slut bag."

"I kinda admire the creativity right now," he smirks as he tosses his shirt away. His chest bulges as he flexes, rolling his shoulders as he flicks open his fly, "how long you been holding all this in?"

"I'm gonna–"

"Kill me? Yeah, I've heard that from more than you," he scoffs as he shoves his pants down his hips, "that's your problem," he says as he bends to untangle his feet, "you can just never admit defeat."

"Whatever," you strain and manage to sit up, "fucker."

"It's true," he slowly trails his fingers along his bobbing erection and tickles up to his stomach, "you get this look," he puts a knee on the bed and swipes away your leg before you can kick him. He quickly frames your jaw, squeezing as he comes close, "and you can see it all boiling just under the surface. The day we met, you had it."

"Fuck off," you drawl, "don't fucking touch me–"

"I don't think I've ever known anyone as stubborn as you," he pulls you forward as he sits back in his heels, "and that's saying something."

"Hate you," you scowl as he grabs your hip and shifts down onto his ass.

"Yeah, well I find that good fuel for fucking," he snickers as he leads you into his lap, guiding one legs around him then the other.

He feels below you, rubbing his tip against your cunt and sinking into you. He sighs and urges you down as he grabs your hip, his hand still firmly around your chin. He forces you to his base and you shudder.

He rocks you slowly, purring under his breath as he holds your head steady, leaning closer and closer until his breath grazes your skin. You snarl as he crushes his mouth to yours. His tongue pokes out and you bite down, just missing it as he pulls back.

"Ah, don't get nasty."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, I'm waiting on that."

His gaze falls between your bodies as he continues to move you, slow but deliberate. You groan as your walls clench around him and the fullness echoes through you. He reaches around and unclasps the buckle of the belt, unleashing you from your restraint. You slap his chest, pushing on him as you buck your hips suddenly.

"You talk a lot," you sneer.

He laughs and you shove him again. This time he falls onto his back, hands on your waist as you keep your palms flush to his chest. You moan and roll your hips. He grunts and you do it again, delighting in how it thrums within you. You arch your back and carry the motion, the friction of his pelvis clusters in your sensitive clit, spurring you on.

His thumbs poke you painfully as he groans and pushes his chin out. He drones deeply as you ride him, chasing the mounting flurry stirring in your core. His throat tightens visibly and he reaches blindly for your hands, sliding it off his chest towards his neck. You squeeze without hesitation, shaking the bed beneath him as you speed up.

Maybe it's the tequila, or the pent up anger, or sheer escapism. You don't care. You've never felt more powerful in your life. Not because of him but despite him.

You let the surge take over you. You snarl and throw your head back, keeping your grip on his neck as you ground your cunt against him, a sudden explosion pulses from your cunt and twitches in your walls. He lets out raspy moans as he kneads your thighs, urging you on as he lays prone to your whims.

You crest your orgasm and slow, body shaky and weak as the adrenaline dissipates. Lloyd slaps your ass with both hands, keeping you in motion. You let him, following his rhythm as your hand falls away from his neck.

You lean over him and press your palm to his cheek. You lift yourself on your knees and grit your teeth as he thrusts from below. You pull your hand back and smack him, the stinging strike rippling in the air. He growls and sticks out his tongue, gulping in the humid air between you.

"Do it again," he pants, "come on, peaches, it's all you."

You slap him again, this time sliding your hand up to his hand and tugging harshly. You feel another climax rising as he pounds into you. You moan as you clasp onto the burst of pleasure and let it wash over you.

"Fuck, baby, use me," Lloyd rasps, "fucking drain me."

He slams into you and shakes, thrusts disjointed and desperate. You gurgles as he cums, nails digging into your skin as he succumbs to his release.

Paralysed and panting, he lays prone as you sit up. You pinch his nipple meanly and he cries out.

"I'm not fucking done," you snarl.

#lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #unsolicited #series #the gray man #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble

413 notes · View notes

ghostsy · 8 months

Text

Birds of Prey

WARNINGS: yandere, nsfw, noncon, abuse, blood, possessiveness, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment

A/N: the fic i wanted to post is taking too long, so pls enjoy a not very short, not very sweet, slightly unhinged hawks drabble

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! HAWKS X READER

“You’re mine, you know?”

“You’re insufferable, you know?”

A laugh, deep and raspy, filled the space between them as his head fell back in surprise. Though, the fingers digging like claws into the skin of her waist betrayed his irritation.

He brought his face to her own, smile turning razor sharp; that ever present glint in his eyes, while entertained, sparked with a dare she was too stubborn to ignore, no matter the ensuing consequences.

“Pretty pretty Bird,” His tongue poked out from his canines, swiping up to lick the tip of her nose, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Rather than recoil in disgust, she leaned closer, fingers threading in his golden locks, “Selfish, mindless, animal,” Each word enunciated with a sharp tug, “Ruin all you like,” Her lips brushed against his ear, and she was met with a pleasured groan, “I’ll ruin you right back.”

“Fuck,” His hips bucked upwards, his clothed hardness grinding against her in a failed attempt to soothe the growing ache, “You promise?”

It was her turn to laugh; it was sharp and spiteful, and she leaned back on his lap to meet his eyes, hands falling to his face to trace the sharp curve of his jaw in resigned admiration, “What makes you think you’ll like it?”

His own hands trailed from her waist to squeeze at the fat of her thighs, fingers sinking like talons as they spread her further, pulling her into him.

“Oh, my pretty Bird,” A hand moved to brush under her shirt, ghosting against the skin, and bringing goosebumps to the surface, “If it’s you,” Dextrous, devious fingers worked their way underneath her bra, “I’ll love it.”

Despite her resolve, a whimper escaped her lips, and the predator under her pounced, shoving her back onto the mattress below them.

Blood red wings spread behind him, and eyes glowing with the celebration of premature victory, he looked like some harbinger of death, beautiful in all his glory, but come to rip her to shreds, and feast on her insides with that golden smile.

She wasn’t far off, she realized bitterly. Though, her chance at revenge came sooner than anticipated when he dove forward, shoving his tongue past her parted lips, licking the taste of her mouth from inside while he tore at her clothes.

And, steeling her nerves, she bit down, teeth tearing into the intruder, replacing the taste of spit with syrupy copper. Her reward came in the form of a strangled groan as he ripped himself from her.

“Fuck—!” A curse, low and raspy with the interruption of dribbling blood.

The sight before her was enough to send her heart leaping to her throat, embers of satisfaction dying as quickly as they lit. If he had looked like a harbinger of death before, now, with the back of his hand swiping crimson to smear across his cheek, feathers puffed and poised to attack, and hair falling to shadow his eyes, the man above her was a type of demon king she tried to force herself not to regret awakening.

He spat to the side, blood dripping from his lips, and turned back to her with a smile more sinister and sharp than she thought him capable of showing. Slowly, he pulled at his own shirt to reveal a body too sculpted and too pretty to belong to him.

“Caged Bird has teeth, does she?” He breathed, “It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, baby.”

“The only game I’m interested in,” She growled, “Is one where you lose.”

She had already scanned the room when she’d woken up dizzy and groggy and surrounded by a space all too familiar but not her own. He hadn’t even bothered with chains. Cocky bastard. There was no place to go where he couldn’t follow, but she’d be damned if she just laid there and took it.

She held her breath, and the pause between them was interrupted by a low, building chuckle that raised in volume and pitch until he fell forward in a fit of giggles underlaid with a twisted and angry amusement.

Lifting his gaze to hers, she found his eyes burning through her with the giddy anticipation of a hawk playing with its food. The condescension was enough to stroke her own need to fight, and she forced a sardonic smile despite her growing unease.

“What? Too much?” Swollen lips pulling into a sneer, “I thought you said you’d love it if I ruined you.”

He snorted, eyes moving to sweep across her body: fabric hanging in threads from her skin, lacey undergarments serving as her only decoration, traces of his blood smearing her lips, and tears that pooled at the corners of her eyes. Too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of falling. God, did he love this woman.

“Between the two of us, little Bird,” He leaned forward, taking her jaw in a bruising grip, and forced her gaze to his own, “I’d say you’re plenty ruined yourself.”

There was a twitch in her brow that sated his ego, and he pushed forward to give her a peck, retreating with the quickness of a man who had learned his lesson. For now, he reminded himself.

“Though,” Still, he couldn’t help but push, “Not nearly ruined enough.”

And he surged forward, taking her throat in one hand, and forced her backwards into the pillow; her legs flailed while her hands shot up to claw at his own. It was time to give her a little lesson of his own.

He settled himself between her thighs, ripping the last of her coverings to leave her bare and thrashing. Her heels kicked at his back, lips parting in short, sharp gasps.

“Fuck–fucking–” A strangled whine, “Bast–bastard–”

“Come on now, Birdie,” He leaned forward, fingers flexing, “If you don’t have anything nice to say,” Nose to nose, his canines gleaming, “You don’t say anything at all.”

With the twitch of her jaw, she pursed her lips, refusing to consider the consequences, and sent a glob of spit flying right at his face, watching with glee as it splattered under his eye.

He jerked back in surprise, releasing her neck to swipe at the offended cheek. Through a fit of raspy coughs, her chest sparked with a sort of vindicated satisfaction.

Her victory was short lived, however, and a burning smack echoed in the empty space, whipping her face sideways, a ringing in her ears growing to match her blurring vision. The strength of a hero, she thought sarcastically.

It was her turn to spit out blood, before her eyes rolled back to him, angry, but cautious. His fingers worked at his belt buckle, and he shirked off his pants in her momentary incapacitation, entirely unbothered by his own sudden show of violence.

She did her best to avoid looking at the monster between his legs, and, like any sign of weakness, he seized the opportunity to mock her.

“Fight all you like, pretty Bird,” A hand was back on her throat, tight, but not squeezing, “But you and I both know this only ends one way.”

She knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but the ache of bruised pride burning in her chest insisted on hurting him back. Hurting him more than he would ever hurt her. Because he would hurt her.

Her hands moved back to his chest, pushing as he wrenched her thighs apart, “Fucking villain,” She’d lost her appetite for this game of theirs, opting instead to let her acidic resentment pour outwards, “Get off.” After all, words were her only true defense.

In a flash his free hand took hold of one frantic wrist, “Villain? I can be a villain,” His face twitched in irritation, and her bones screamed under the force of his fingers, “Keep pushing, and I’ll break it.”

The sudden flip had her hands falling limp, retreating in shock once he released her wrist, and balling into fists beside her head. And as fast as it came, the darkness left him, only that treacherous smugness remaining.

She cursed herself for her fear, put off by the unpredictability of his own emotional landmines. But still, she squared her face back to a disdained neutral, unwilling to show more weakness than he’d already sniffed out.

He pumped at his length, positioning it at her entrance. She was damp, but not nearly prepared enough for the size of him, and he hummed, fingers dipping down to toy at her clit, sending her hips jolting upwards in regretful anticipation.

“Say something nice, baby,” He breathed lazily, “Say something nice, and I’ll make you feel good, too.”

There was a beat as they stared at each other, “I…” She whispered, a growing conflict in her eyes. He leaned down, lips brushing against her own.

“Yeah?” His hot breath spread across her cheeks, “C’mon Birdie, I wanna hear something pretty come from that filthy mouth of yours.”

They were nose to nose, golden eyes piercing into her own, each pair glowing with emotions too loud to speak, “I,” Breathy and wanton, “Would,”

“Yeah? You’d what?”

“Rather fucking die.”

For the hundredth time that night he was taken aback, incredulous laughter his only response as he pulled away from her, eyes snapping back to her own with a promise he’d been eager to fulfill.

“Suit yourself,” And he shoved inside.

A yelp, surprised and pained, “Fuck–!”

He was only halfway in, and rather than let her adjust, he sunk his nails into her thighs as leverage, and forced himself further. She whined in pain, a coat of crimson serving as response around his pulsing length, and he moved to trap her hands in his own, fingers intertwined.

“Tight like a virgin, huh, little Bird?” Once fully sheathed, he set a brutal pace, the head of his cock bruising her cervix with each greedy thrust. His face dipped down to lick a stripe up her stomach, trailing marks up her chest and throat with gnashing tongue and teeth.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” She bit out, trying and failing to pull her hands from his crushing grip, “Wouldn’t know wet pussy if it—mmgh!—if it smacked you in the face.”

He huffed another laugh, “Don’t tempt me, baby,” His hands released her own to dig into the fat of her ass as he pulled her hips upwards and into his own with a renewed violence, grunting as her knees dug spitefully into his sides.

Her newly free fingers clawed at his back, and despite his earlier threat, he seemed to revel in the streaks of red she tore in the skin between his wings, responding in kind with a hiss of masochistic pleasure.

“Not my fault the only way to get your dick wet,” A sharp, pained gasp, “Is to make a girl bleed.”

There was a glint in his eye that brought back her unease, and one of his sinful hands flew to the space where they met, finger pressing with irritating accuracy into her bundle of nerves. His other readjusted to push one leg to her chest, pausing his movement.

“Pain not a good enough lesson for you?” A too bright smile, “Fine with me,” That gleam in his eye sparkled with a sadistic satisfaction, “How ‘bout we see how many times I can make you cum ‘til you pass out.”

And the thrusts returned, chasing his own pleasure while the hand at her clit swirled in circles and stars, faster and faster until a whine more pleasured than pained escaped her lips.

“Like you–fuck–” She groaned as his fingers sped their motions, cock rocking into her with a deliciously savage rhythm she dared not acknowledge, “Like you fucking could–” A moan, full and long, drowned out her words, and her nails dug crescents into his shoulders.

He only hummed in response, her clit twitching under his thumb, “What’s that, Birdie?” A pulsing ache formed in her gut, “Words, baby, use your words,” Her pussy squeezed against his member in a way that had him groaning.

“Fuck you.”

“With pleasure, little Bird.”

He drew his hips back, pulling out of her dripping entrance to tease the hole with his tip, before diving back inside with unfairly gratifying precision against that spongy, tingling spot inside of her. Faster and faster, her bundle of nerves pulsed greedily under his fingers, and her teeth tore into her lip, trying to will the pleasure away, or, more shamefully, will it to peak.

Suddenly, and without warning, there was a blooming inside her that had her eyes rolling backwards, open mouthed moans raising in volume in an attempt to settle the warm buzzing between her thighs.

Though, she couldn’t find it within herself to care about the knowing smirk that pulled at his lips, too focused on his continued thrusts, and the quick rebuild of overwhelming pleasure.

“What are you–Stop!” A groan as he released her clit in favor of throwing both of her legs over his shoulders, and pressed against her chest, fucking into her at an angle that had her seeing stars, “What are you doing?!”

“If I’m correct, baby Bird,” He smiled, turning to press a quick kiss to her thigh, “You’re still conscious,” She growled as he nipped at the skin, but a particularly harsh push inside her cut the murderous thoughts short, “Which means we’ve still got a ways to go.”

His words were smug, but the growing sloppiness of his movements betrayed his own pleasure. Her eyes widened in realization, and her fingers leapt to pull and push at his back, tearing at what feathers she could reach in an attempt to get him off of her. Get him out of her.

“Not inside,” She rasped, “Don’t do it inside–”

“Hmm?” A mocking tilt of his head, “No? You don’t want me to fill you up?” One hand shifted to deliver a harsh slap to her ass, “Breed you like a needy little bitch?”

“Fucking—get off—get off!” She shrieked, beating at his shoulders, “Fucking psycho!”

“Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” His hips were stuttering, and before she could stop herself, the words shot out through her lips.

“Please,” A couple stray, humiliated tears as she whimpered his name, “Please, not inside. Please, don’t cum inside!”

“Oh, so you do know how to talk pretty,” He breathed, fingers massaging at her abused flesh, “I was beginning to worry.”

“Please,” She swallowed her spit and her pride, “Please–”

“That’s right,” He was panting now, lips meeting her neck, teeth sinking in to add to the ring of bruises, “Beg me some more.”

Throwing her dignity out the window, she obliged, pleas working in tandem with the savage strokes of his cock, trying and failing to ignore her own mounting pleasure until finally he stilled, pouring deep inside her with a raspy groan, and sending her once again over that dreaded and savored edge.

“What’d I tell you, Birdie?” He ignored the defeated, broken whines that left her while they both returned to reality, “You’re mine.”

As his eyes trailed down the collage of her forming bruises, he was sure he bore his own battle scars, heart strangely skipping at the thought. She was his, but he had long belonged to her. A fact he’d hoard to himself as long as he could.

He caught his breath, readjusting to brush sweaty strands of hair from her forehead to behind her ear, pressing a reverent kiss to her temple before pulling away. It was a gesture entirely too soft, and she could have forgotten it was the monster above her had it not been for his next words.

“Oh don’t cry, my broken little Bird,” That vicious golden grin was back, “I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

Looking down at the ruined little thing shaking underneath him, he felt a type of satisfaction one only gets from dethroning a queen, fight fucked out of her. Not for good, he reminded himself gleefully. His pretty Bird was too stubborn for that. His softening cock twitched to life at the thought.

The flare of her nostrils sent lightning in his veins as she growled, “I’ll ruin you,” The words were venomous, humor sucked out in favor of acidic hatred, but his chest only vibrated with a sadistic urge to play, “I’ll fucking ruin you.”

“Ruin all you like, baby,” Breath wet and hot, shaking with anticipation, “I’ll ruin you right back.”

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks #yandere takami keigo #yandere hawks x reader #yandere takami kegio x reader #yandere mha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere x you #first and only draft bc we like livin on the edge

474 notes · View notes

theredofoctober · 10 months

Text

MANNA- Part 2

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse etc.

---

"What do you see?" asks Hannibal, forcing you, by an immovable hand at the base of your neck, to stare at your reflection in the mirror. "Speak the truth. It won't shock me, nor should you be ashamed of it."

You have already attempted to close your eyes against the glass, and were gently threatened into opening them again. Now you force your gaze to unfocus, refusing Hannibal in a way that even he surely cannot discern.

He says your name into the quiet with a subtle, yet dangerous edge. It is so rarely used now that you jolt almost guiltily, unsure whether, like Will, Dr Lecter can be frenzied to strike you.

Hannibal's threat is more of a sleek, hunting animal, you think, cunning and serene; he can be cruel in a manner of exact and elegant genius, the bruising of the psyche, and the soul.

"Don't disobey me," he says. "You will not welcome my disappointment."

A tremble of doe-like terror wreathes you in its grasp.

"Doctor," you whisper. "I want to quit. I'll pay you the money my parents sent for me to come here; I'm not a child, and I don't need any of this. I'm not playing your game. Please let me go home."

There is certainly no chance that your family are aware of and approve of this treatment; it is torture under a clinical guise, a sinister, sexual sadism.

Still you cannot deny that the longer you remain here, the more you begin to see Hannibal and Will in the roles that they take within these walls: the strict, hard-handed father, the nurturing and gentle dad.

Each are relentless in their goal to reduce you to their supplicant doll, driving you further into the same hungering madness they wish to cure.

"You cannot leave here," says Hannibal, almost affably. "Your family unburdened themselves by releasing you to more comprehending hands. They think less of your wellbeing, and more of the weight that they no longer carry. Do you believe they would accept you back if you were not cured?"

"There is no cure," you say, bitterly. "You said it yourself. No cure, just recovery and maintenance."

Hannibal strokes the back of your neck, soothing you even as you shudder in repulsion.

"And do you trust yourself to do that alone?"

You don't answer, sinking miserably against the man at your back if only so that you do not fall to the floor in your despair.

"Tell me, little one," Hannibal commands, and his left hand comes down your shoulder, across your breast, tracing your hip with the ease of ownership. "What do you see?"

Swaying, crying, you blink at the horror in the looking glass, this imperfect beast in the arms of so evil and oddly beautiful a man.

"Failure," you spit. "It's disgusting."

Hannibal leans into you, breathing in the scent of your hair, and kisses your temple.

"I see a perfect little girl. Or else one with the potential to be."

You shake your head, certain that he is taunting you. That he is not repulsed seems an impossibility; Will certainly makes no attempts to hide his disdain, even when he fucks you.

"I do not lie to my patients," Hannibal insists. "With instruction, discipline, and loving guidance, you will become everything you should already be."

Warmth under your skirt; Hannibal's fingers cupping your wretched heat, pressing themselves into a self-loathing wetness, a sobbing response to his words.

"You shouldn't do this to me," you say, as always, repeated like a prayer, all frantic fervour. "You're my doctor. You're hurting me."

"It's what is required for you to change. Why do you cling to your chrysalis when it no longer serves you? There is no sustenance in it. You hold yourself here because it is safe. Because it is known. You have grown to love the illness like family."

He circles the heart of your folds with fingers that know you with the certainty of language.

"I suggest that you exchange the subject of your affections for those that will return it."

His lips are soft against your neck, an angel come down in a romantic painting, or fallen, rather.

Your vision of the creature in the mirror disappears into a prism of tears.

"You don't love me, really," you whisper. "And Will... he hates me."

Hannibal pushes you forwards, against the mirror, bending your form in a balletic motion. You are glad that you cannot see yourself in such close proximity to the glass, only the pupil of your eye, black and endless.

"He does not hate you," says Hannibal, softly. "He is gripped by desires that anger him, for he neither wants nor understands them."

Your legs are eased apart, and you whimper as a sudden thickness parts you like a scroll.

"Sometimes he watches you when you sleep," Hannibal tells you. "He finds such beauty in you, when you allow yourself to dream."

#manna fic #ao3 writer #dark fic #hannibal lecter #dark hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham mention #hannibal fic #tw eating disorders #tw anorexia #dead dove do not eat #darkfic #dark!fic

109 notes · View notes

kaeyx · 1 month

Text

Kinktober day 24: Pmzai + CNC/noncon

Warnings: smut, cnc, sub!Pmzai, dom!gn!reader, masturbation, coercion, aftercare

You adore that little gasp of surprise you always hear when he stumbles after you into the darkness. His one eye turning caramel as an old streetlight catches it before you're both swallowed up in the shadows, his boney hands trying to pry yours off his thin hips as he kicks and struggles, so light in your arms.

Dazai is so easy to bend over, so frail, one of your hands clamped over his mouth while you hold him down, pinning him with your weight and undoing his slacks. He thrashes weakly, trying to bite your fingers even as you manage to leave his lowe half naked and push his trench coat out of the way but you just pinch his nose to cut off his air, a gentle warning, showing him what you could do if you wanted to. Dazai whines when you trace his cock, already half hard and pushing against your fingers, precum beginning to gather at the tip.

"So naughty," you chide, "I knew you wanted this all along."

Dazai shakes his head frantically, wriggling his hips to try and get away from you but only succeeding in rubbing his ass against you, making you laugh quietly in his ear.

"Shh baby, don't worry. Don't fight me, it'll all be over soon. I know you're going to enjoy it too."

Your rub your thumb over his slit to make him jump, his lithe body jerking in your arms as you trace all down his length and squeeze his base. The hand covering his face goes into his mouth, your fingers pressing down on his tongue and rubbing his gums, coating them in drool. Dazai chokes when you prod the back of his throat, gagging, but that only makes his cock jump and leak more in your other hand.

"That's it darling, just let me," you murmur, switching hands so that the one lubed with his spit is fisting his cock. "Good boy, good baby."

Your hand moves just how you know he likes and you feel his knees buckle, his body going limp and letting you press him further against the cold, dirty wall. Dazai whines when you squeeze his cock, twisting your wrist and only pausing at the top to swipe your thumb over his slit and spread his mess more. Wet, rhythmic sounds fill the dark alley and Dazai whines, pressing himself further against you and arching his back, his head falling forward until it's resting on the wall. He's panting, his hips twitching forward in time with your movements, quiet whines escaping from behind your other hand. His cock twitches uncontrollably, and you know he's about to snap.

"Go on honey, prove me right. I know you want to. Cum for me."

Dazai sobs, curling into himself as his cum shoots over your hand and drips onto the filthy ground, the milky sheen covering your fingers. His hips roll and all his muscles are tense, heavy panting filling your ears as he whimpers and trembles.

As soon as he's stopped shaking he collapses, going limp with his cheek pressed against the wall. You pull him back, easily taking his weight and sweeping his feet out from under him, taking him into your arms. You lean against the wall to free up one of your hands, bringing your cum covered fingers up to Dazai's mouth.

"Clean up, baby," you coo, watching as his hazy eye focuses and a little pink tongue darts out to lick you clean, his gaze coming up to meet your own.

You tuck his trenchcoat around his legs, covering up his bare thighs and softening cock before pushing off the wall with him in your arms and exiting the alley. Unable to resist you kiss his forehead, watching in amusement as Dazai's face screws up and he makes a "blegh" noise, as if disgusted.

"What about you?" Dazai asks. You know that's his way of asking why you didn't fuck him.

"Shower first, then you can have some more."

#kinktober 2023 #dazai.bsd

34 notes · View notes

jimblejamblewritings · 1 year

Text

riddle means misery | part 1.

Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Everyone hates her. She’s evil... she has to be.

Warnings for the Series: 18+, this series is dark. Manipulation, dubcon verging on noncon, abuse of power, violence, ed mentions, death, blood,

Pairing: unknown yet x black!reader

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N I: Hopefully this goes without saying but neither me as the author or my readers condone these acts in real life. We enjoy these scenarios in fiction to explore dark thoughts or for escapism or for whatever reason. If this makes you uncomfortable then please protect yourself and do not read BUT any hate towards my readers who enjoy this story will not be tolerated. Once again, fiction is fiction and we do not condone any of this disgusting behavior in real life!!

A/N II: This is the (hopefully) final, darker version of Sunshine/Princesse de Mort. Hopefully, y’all enjoy and we reached the proper darkness of the fic. Obviously it can only be so dark since this is supposed to have a happy ending but I’m confident we will all be pleased with this.

A/N III: Vote on your guy for the future pairing. A post about the poll can be found in an answered ask posted before this post.

(Series Masterlist)

A little grunt escaped your mouth as you tried to grab your book that was currently floating away. It wasn’t even your book. Standing up from the table, you went to chase after it. You were all but three steps past your table when you tripped over your suddenly untied shoelaces and your hand landed conveniently on some lionfish nettles. Hissing, you sat up to pull the nettles from your now bleeding hand. The book wasn’t even in your sight by the time you picked them all out.

You could hear laughter from far away when you ran outside to catch up to your missing item. So it was a Ravenclaw messing with you this study hall period. You needed the book. You couldn’t afford a replacement. Money wasn’t something that ran abundantly. The little money in your family’s vault was frozen by The Ministry. Not that it mattered to your father. Lord Voldemort didn’t pay for anything. Most of your things, you never liked to think about where they came from and tried to get rid of them once you quickly found a decent replacement.

Everything else came from money you earned helping the house-elves at Hogwarts. You lived at the castle year-round. You had ever since you were eleven. Voldemort didn’t make his presence known— you were escorted to Platform 9 and ¾ by one of his followers with a wand and a letter in hand. Hogwarts was where he grew up. He still saw it as a place to hone magical talents and wanted you to go. He also requested— demanded— that Dumbledore keep you there. His heir wasn’t meant to get herself killed in a war.

You were meant to become the second most powerful wizard, after only your father, and rise up to take his place in the new wizarding world order when the time came. Dumbledore couldn’t have denied you if he wanted to. The moment The Ministry found out, you were practically forced to be there. They couldn’t throw you in prison when you hadn’t done anything but house-arrest at Hogwarts until you were an adult was good enough for the moment.

You crawled under the table to grab your wand before going to chase the book out of the Great Hall. The book kept flapping like a bird, just out of your reach. You thought you might be able to grab it as you headed outside before hitting a body and falling to the ground. A boy grabbed the floating book.

“Here— oh, here you go, Padfoot. Riddle’s little book.”

You pulled yourself up from the ground to see some of your least favorite people. The Marauders were the oddest puzzle to you. Their torment was tame in comparison to everyone else. It felt more like bullying than torture. But, everyone seemed to respect them despite it. If they made you their target for the day then no one else did because they hoped they would be there to see your humiliation. You looked at James as you smoothed out your scarlet and gold tie. He watched your hands, noting one bleeding slightly.

“Still not sure how you tricked the Hat into putting you anywhere but Slytherin.”

“I didn’t tri— can I please just have my book back, James?”

“What book? Wormtail, do you know what book she’s talking about?”

“No clue, Moony?”

“Haven’t seen a book, Padfoot?”

“Are you talking about that book over there?”

You looked behind Sirius to see a small fire. You ran over to try and put it out but it was too late. Sirius must’ve set it on fire the moment James handed it to him. You groaned in exasperation. It was a library book. The librarian already looked at you with so much disgust for even daring to step foot in the library. She’d be livid. You realized, as you still patted at the book, that you’d have to give up some shopping money for it. A hot sensation creeped close to your skin before a sharp bit of pain. You looked down to see the bottom of your skirt on fire, quickly scrambling to put it out. The Marauders laughed and high-fived Peter as they walked away.

You gave the boys a look as they left. Your first stop tomorrow would be to buy the book at Hogsmeade and give it to the librarian. In the meantime you went back to the Great Hall to try and get all your stuff. It was covered in ink that you suspected wasn’t coming off easily. Another night of staying up late to complete homework. You weren’t even sure why you bothered doing your work. It wasn’t like you were on anyone’s nice list. Even Dumbledore, who once had faith in Tom Riddle being a good wizard, didn’t care much for you. But multiple school years later and you still had faith. There was still a chance for everyone to see the real you before you all went out into the world.

The book was the first thing you bought in Hogsmeade. A small meow garnered your attention as you left the bookstore. You looked in the bushes to see a tiny kitten that seemed abandoned. The little thing that you immediately named Finnegan made no protest to you scooping her up. You walked through the village and back towards the castle. You needed to get back before everyone else woke up and went down to the village. When you made it to the front doors of the castle, you could hear four sets of footsteps behind you and sighed as you waited for one of them to say or do something.

“Princess!” That would be James.

He took to taunting you with the Slytherin’s Princess nickname. Peter and Sirius both preferred Little Dark One. Remus liked Ring Leader. You turned to face them, wrapping your cardigan around you.

“Yes, James?”

“Where are you going?”

“I just want to go back to my room. I don’t wa—”

“Potter!”

You closed your eyes at the voice behind you. It was Evan Rosier which meant Severus and Mulciber were definitely with him. The cackle behind you let you know that Bellatrix and Narcissa were with them. They were the Death Eater posse— everyone had no doubt that they would join your father’s side. You tried to stay away as much as possible but they always found you. They made it a mission to be your personal bodyguards and whatever else they thought you needed.

“Bloody hell,” you whispered.

“Rosie!” James sneered. “What do we owe this pleasure?”

“Fuck off, Potter” Evan whipped out his wand.

You scurried out of the way as Evan practically threw himself to take your place in an impromptu duel. That was always the scariest part for you. Dueling. You didn’t want to think about what would happen if the school found out you were a squib. It just looked like you refused to perform spells— and none of the teachers ever bothered to make you try. No one really wanted to see you perform magic anyway. You had more magic than most squibs but it still wasn’t enough to get past second, maybe third year of school. It certainly wasn’t enough magic now.

You could still hear footsteps following you. The stride sounded so calm compared to your scurry. A hand grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back, almost slamming you against the wall but stopping just shy of doing so. Remus gave you a smile that would seem so sweet if it was on anyone but him.

“You know they’ll just duel you later, might as well just stay and take it now, Ring Leader.”

“So you can dangle me from the ceiling like you all did to Severus last week?”

“Snivellus came up with that jinx, not everyone else’s fault if it caught on with all of us. I’ll let you down after a few minutes, won’t be nearly as long as Snape was dangling from that tree.”

“I'd rather not have my knickers shown to the entire school, it’s the one thing you haven’t made fun of yet.”

Remus eyed the skirt of your dress, one hand moving to grab the bottom of it. “They have little hearts on them?”

You wormed your way out of his grip and kept going towards Gryffindor tower. Remus laughed.

“So they do have hearts on them!”

You acted like you didn’t hear him as you walked. You silently cursed as the staircase moved, giving the Marauders the opportunity to catch up to you.

“Princess got herself a kitty. Rosie and Snivellus were not nearly as fun to duel,” James started as he boxed you in between the four of them. “Let’s set a date for it, Princess.”

“I’m not Princess, stop calling me that.”

Peter laughed. “I think all the little Slytherins at your beck and call say otherwise.”

“I don’t ask them t—”

“It’s not like you have to,” Sirius cut you off. “Why wouldn’t they follow the head Death Eater?”

“I’m not, how many times do I have to say I’m not a Death Eater?”

“Y/N Riddle. I think that proves everything we need to know.”

You felt a gust of wind and found yourself pushed down, holding out a hand so you wouldn’t squish Finnegan. Peter pushed you back down as they walked past you. If you weren’t in the same House, you would walk in the opposite direction but you had no choice aside from continuing.

Skirting past everyone in the common room, you practically ran towards your room. Finnegan seemed to like your space. It was weird. Your bed was surrounded by enchanted things and runes to stop your roommates from ruining your stuff. But Finnegan didn’t care about all the weird shit, hopping right over one of the cauldrons that was always filled with a bright blue liquid. You scratched between her ears and hung up your cardigan on the little jacket hooks near your bed. Sitting at your desk, you finished a few essays for Defense Against the Dark Arts until it was time for lunch. Your cat came with you when you grabbed your blanket and left your room. The hallways were empty as you walked through them.

It was safe to go outside. Moments like this were your favorite. They made you think of summer when the castle was almost completely empty, even Dumbledore didn’t stay around all the time. It was the most peaceful time of year for you.

The Marauders spotted you as you quietly walked into The Great Hall holding a blanket and your cat. They weren’t going to mess with you, having had their fill earlier. But they did stare as they watched you grab some finger food from the serving tray closest to the door and then make a quick exit. Peter snorted.

“It’s a bit pathetic, isn’t it?”

Remus mumbled an agreement through a mouthful of food. You ate in your room, splitting some with Finnegan. Before any of your roommates could come back, you decided to take a nice shower. Only once did you ever use the bathtub. It took too long and left you too vulnerable and naked no matter how many locking enchantments were put on it. You quickly got ready for bed and stayed up reading a fiction book until you were tired enough to go to bed. The curtains were drawn around your room in hopes to make your roommates forget that you existed.

Sunday was your reprieve. Everyone had to take a break from messing with you at some point. You grabbed your journals and headed to the Dark Forest. It was technically forbidden without teacher supervision but no one ever stopped you. You had two main expertises of magic— Darks Arts and Potions.

Your magic wasn’t strong enough for dueling but it was strong enough for simple charms and spells needed to make potions work. You figured that you were pretty good at Herbology but that was only because you had to be for Potions— same for being decent at Care of Magical Creatures. Your journals held studies for all your work.

You wanted to head into the forest to collect samples of unicorn blood and compare it to various saps from fairy fruits. The goal was to see how much the fruit could mimic unicorn blood. You were expecting the blood sample to be ready in a few days— two unicorns were about to give birth and two were almost dead. If you couldn’t get the blood from the birth, you could collect it from the dead unicorns without hurting them or cursing yourself. The fairy fruits could be collected today. You wanted to sketch them and then mark the saps in the journal. You nearly jumped out your skin when you made it back out the forest.

“Is this the Charms homework from Thursday?” Sirius grabbed your journal.

You scrambled to try and get the book back.

“What’s so good that you get top marks?”

“Hand it over, Padfoot.” Remus stuck out his hand.

Your eyes widened in horror at watching the journal be torn to shreds. It might have been a new journal but it still had three months worth of research in it. Studying for new potions and dark arts didn’t just happen overnight. Quickly, you shoved the other journal into your bag before they could go after it. James twirled his wand in his hands as he stared at you with a tilt of his head.

“You ever consider a haircut?”

You shook your head as you started to run back towards the castle in a zigzag fashion. The Marauders laughed at how ridiculous you looked. Being bored for the day, they decided to follow you. You were headed to the owlery anyway and see if there was a letter. You hadn’t responded to your father after the last two which meant you should respond to this one. As expected, there was the letter. You read it over. It wasn’t very different from the last one.

He hoped you passed your last homework assignment and were studying hard for your OWLs, he’d send you something for Valentine’s Day to keep up with the tradition that your mother started before she wound up in prison and then died, and the marriage list at the bottom was updated. You hated that list more than anything. Arranged marriage and specifically with a man your father chose was absolutely horrid.

You frowned at seeing Lucius Malfoy now at the top. It must be because of the rally he’s planning on having. Your father really liked Lucius. He was pureblood, rich, and just as arrogant. He liked how Lucius didn’t hesitate to hex someone in your first year of schooling if they tried to mess with you. You hated that the eleven year old you did used to cling to Lucius when you didn’t know if you could handle everybody’s bullying. He probably told that story and it got back to your father. You would have to correct that right away in the next letter that Lucius shouldn’t be at the top of his list. You wanted to put that there should be no list. Two names that frustrated you to no end were also back—

“Why the fuck is my name there and Reggie?” Sirius had snatched the letter out of your hand.

You hadn’t even heard them coming because of how loud the owlery could be. Peter pointed at the letter.

He smirked. “You should start dating, Pads, won’t that make dear Daddy happy?”

The other boy scoffed. “Wouldn’t even fuck her with a bag over her head.”

“I want my letter back.”

They laughed when you tried to snatch it back, Sirius quickly pulling it out of your reach.

“Why?”

“Please.”

Sirius whistled and his family owl came flying to him. “Dump it wherever, maybe somewhere in London.”

The owl took the letter in its beak. You could do nothing but watch the owl fly out of your reach and through the window. You purposely shouldered the boys as you walked past— your back quickly slammed into Remus’ chest as you pulled you back. The arm around your throat, pinning you to him, got a little tighter. He pulled your wand out of your back pocket and held it right in front of your face. The wood looked like it was bending a little under his grip.

“Try getting bold again and I’ll break this into pieces. Understood?”

You caught the wand before it landed on the stairs. Quickly, but not too quickly so no one else would notice you, you made your way back to Gryffindor Tower. You penned your father a letter telling him about your new cat and your classes. You only left to return to the owlery when you knew that James started quidditch practice because all of them would most likely be there.

The four boys caught you looking at them on Monday morning. You tried to sit at the end of the table closer to the professors specifically because of Mondays with the Marauders. Normally they messed with you by this time of day. They had made sure of that. Monday morning, every morning since second year was there spot for taunting. Their favorite joke was making every bit of food or drink you tried to put to your mouth disappear. Lily and Marlene scoffed when you squinted your eyes.

“Do you want something, Riddle?” Marlene yelled.

Your head immediately ducked down as snickers started from around the room. You kept eating your breakfast until suddenly your face was slammed into the bowl of porridge. You looked up to see Dorcas putting her wand away. It was clear to you that the students decided your breakfast was over. You didn’t even bother getting something else before leaving even though you were still hungry.

McGonagall didn’t even look at you as she entered the classroom. You were used to being ignored by her. Floating you scroll to her desk with one of the few spells that you could do, you waited for her to grab your homework. McGonagall simply looked at it and didn’t bother picking it up. Her entire demeanor changed when Lily walked in followed by the others. She, and surprisingly the Marauders, set their homework done and McGonagall simply beamed about how lovely it was that they did it early.

You sunk down in your seat. No one sat at your desk. The only time you ever had a desk partner was if Gryffindors were paired with Slytherins and one of the Death Eater posse had the same class period as you.

Your nose scrunched at the smell of burning fabric. In a panic, you were fishing all of your supplies out of your schoolbag. The bag was ruined. It wasn’t just burnt but there was a giant hole in the bottom of it. You knew that you should’ve soaked the bag in the fireproof potion before you used it right away. You had to carry your books to your next class, waiting until your free period to go back to your room and turn a headscarf into a sack to carry everything. The only thing getting you through the day was the idea that in two days it would be Valentine’s Day.

Was it wrong to look forward to getting presents from your dad and the Death Eater posse? Yes, but it was the only nice stuff you ever got. The real question was when would you get the presents. The posse would probably just show up at Gryffindor Tower or escort you to Slytherin but you’d have to go to The Great Hall or the owlery to get the gift from your dad.

In the end, you figured that you’d have better chances in the owlery. The one thing no one would do was push you out the tower so it was infinitely safer. You got the parcel left before anyone else could show up. You went to the library to browse for some books. It was funny. You didn’t even like reading all that much but it was all you could do. Read and research for potions. You had no friends to talk to, no sports to play, no clubs to attend. It sucked because you really wanted to play quidditch but the old captain aimed a bludger at your head. She was graduating and would be here next year but you were too scared to try-out again with James as captain.

The books on the romance shelves called to you as you passed by. They were some of your favorites to read. Romance and found families. Sometimes you wanted to roll your eyes at yourself because it was sort of sadistic to keep reading about what you were never going to get. You grabbed a few and debated what to do next. Safety was found in your bed. But you really hated being cooped up. You weren’t meant to stay inside and cramped up all the time. Finnegan poked her head out of your old tote bag that you patched up until you could buy another school bag.

If your cat wanted to be outside then you would be outside as well. The Black Lake pier seemed nice enough. The wind was a little biting but still nice when you sat down. It blew at your long red skirt that kissed the top of the water. You were in red and pink to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Finnegan was walking up and down the pier, sometimes swatting at a merperson that wanted to look at her, while you went to look at your presents.

Regulus, Bellatrix, and Narcissa all chipped in for fancy chocolates. The Carrows got you a small pad of parchment that was covered in hearts. Others got you cards. You opened the parcel from your dad to see another stuffed bear, some chocolates, and nail polish. There was also a bracelet, earrings, and a necklace. Your mouth dropped open. It was some of the most beautiful jewelry that you ever saw which made you upset.

If it wasn’t jewelry that you bought, you always sold it to the second-hand shop. You couldn’t wear something that was potentially taken off someone he murdered. Your hand paused when you saw the letter. The earrings, bracelet, and necklace were from Lucius. A pout crossed your face. You didn’t want to really have anything from him— especially because you were positive he knew he was top of your father’s marriage list. But at the same time, if Lucius got you the jewelry, then you knew for certain it was bought and not stolen. You never really owned pearls before. You loved pearls but they were always stolen or you sold them for money. The set was too pretty to give away. You’d probably write to Lucius just once to thank him.

You were putting in the earrings when your head practically spun from getting hit with something hard. You felt warm liquid run down your face before the metallic taste hit your tongue. Before your hand was in front of your face you already knew that what you were touching was blood. Sitting in your lap was a bloodied stone. You almost screamed as another rock hit you. On the side shoreline, a group of students were throwing rocks. You scrambled to get up and grab your stuff to leave.

Suddenly, you felt yourself hoisted into the air. Your screams to be put down were cut off by a mouth full of water. Panic ran through you for a moment when you found yourself sinking instead of floating because of the abruptness of landing in the lake. Your lungs burned when you reached the small sandy shore by the pier.

Water and vomit hit the sandy ground. You rolled in the other direction to avoid getting in it. A hand ran over your face. At least the bleeding stopped although you had a headache that you would need to get something for… if Madame Pomfrey actually listened for once. Fingers flitted to your ear. You sat up immediately and crawled back towards the water, pulling out your wand.

“Accio earring! Earring! Accio! Acci…”

You gave up. One of the merpeople must have grabbed the piece of jewelry. Either that or it was too far down for your magic to work. Considering the summoning spell was supposed to be useful no matter how far away an object was, you figured this was probably the limitations due to your squibness. Giving up, you went back to the pier to gather your things and leave. Finnegan, who had been hiding in a bush, followed behind you as you left wet footsteps through the castle. Coming outside fucking sucked.

You continued to read in your room until it was time for the feast. You wouldn’t go but holiday food tended to be the most delicious so you would suffer through all the hearts if that meant you got nice food. The book, chocolates, and nail polish all came with you. Dinner was calm for the first half. No one could do too much with the adults around.

The professors never protected you but even they knew that they had a responsibility to laws which meant you couldn’t be hurt with them watching or they’d have to step in. All bullying was relatively harmless at meal time. You charmed your book to stay upright and flip when you were finished reading a page. It gave you the chance to eat and move on to eating your chocolates and painting your nails. They were all painted pink except for one on each hand that was red. You switched to smaller brushes so you could paint heart details. You gasped when the nail polish bottle was tipped over, panicking when your book started to float away as well. It was impossible to stand up. Only your eyes could move as you watched the book leave. They really petrified you at dinner? You were used to it happening at lunch or breakfast so you could be made late to class. You felt a hand grab your face and turn it to look at them.

James chuckled. “You were wrong, Moony. She likes the hearts on her nails, not her knickers.”

They laughed as you went wide-eyed and felt your face heat up. They walked off but didn’t remove the charm. No one removed the charm. Slowly, students and professors alike exited the hall. You would just have to wait the few hours it took to become unpetrified. Little by little, you felt control of your limbs. A large sigh left your mouth as you practically flew away from the table. You desperately needed to use the bathroom. You didn’t even care that the closest bathroom was Moaning Myrtle’s stomping ground.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

The last word that left your mouth was no before you hit the floor. You heard Dorcas’ voice and felt yourself turned over to see her as well as the rest of the Marauders and their friends. They were sitting on the steps just watching you. Sirius was holding your cat and you weren’t even sure how he got Finnegan from your room.

“That was a very large glass of water, Y/N. And the pumpkin juice and the tea. We have a bet. Me, Lils, Wormtail, and Griff don’t think you’ll last more than two minutes. The others say five. Do us a favor and go quickly. We’ve got some galleons on the line.”

If you could shake your head you would. Peter brought out a timer. You just had to make it past five minutes and you’d be let go. That was easier said than done. Your eyes shut as you heard the scoffing laughter and felt a puddle forming underneath you. Peter tapped the timer.

“Three minutes and twenty seconds, pay up.”

(part 2)...

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107

#marauders x reader #dark!marauders #hogwarts #Harry Potter fic #marauders fic #marauders imagines #marauders smut #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #peter pettigrew x reader #marauders era

269 notes · View notes

rezwrites · 1 year

Text

Non Portae Caeli

Pairings: Dark!Priestess!Wanda/Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: You reap the repercussions for trying to leave your Priestess.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, TW graphic depictions of murder/parental death/blood, noncon/dubcon, beginning of loss of faith, pregnancy, vomit, religious upbringings, bloody Wanda in cleric’s clothing, unspecified age gap(reader is in college), Somno(tiny bit) cunnilingus, fingering

You do NOT have permission to copy or repost my works anywhere.

Masterlist :: Peccata et Paenitentiam

“For I have sinned against you,” she pleaded on her knees in front of you, hands clasped around her rosary, as if it was her only lifeline at the moment. Her eyes gazing into yours, “Please forgive me.”

“You hurt me. You defiled me!” Raising your voice, clenching and unclenching your fists. Turning your head up to the ceiling, you tried to stop your tears from forming. Wanda’s cold hands slipped under your shirt splaying over your stomach, kissing the small bump growing there. Head falling down, “Why did you do this? I tr-trusted you.”

A soft “l love you” left her lips as she lifted her tear filled eyes to yours. She had told you that after every session for the last two months, always touching your belly when she said it. “Let me take care of you,” her voice sounded so shattered while she tried remaining composed. Shaking your head, “No. No, I don’t want anything to do with you,” pushing her away.

“They have everything to do with me!” she screamed, catching your hand in an iron grip. The fire in her eyes growing as she stood to her feet, tugging you closer. Gripping your chin harshly, “You can try running all you want, but I will not stop until we are a family.”

“You’re sick,” you spat her with such disgust, finally wriggling free from her grasp, running out of the classroom.

———

You had come home late after school to avoid your parents, hoping to evade another argument about who could have possibly been leaving flowers at the doorstep in the middle of the night. Being raised in a strict Christian household your parents were already upset with you for skipping church and your afternoon sessions for the last month. On top of that, they are firm believers that pre-marital sex is a major sin. You wanted to tell them because there will be no point in hiding it and hopefully things would work out but you knew deep down they will be absolutely livid when you tell them.

Walking into the house you noticed that kitchen light is on, as well as the television. The digital clock under the television reading 8:56pm, normally your father would be up but the house was dead silent. Slowly walking to your parents bedroom door, you noticed it was slightly ajar. Swinging the door open, the stench of rusted iron hit you immediately. Face twisting in panic seeing Wanda standing over your father, dark sticky patches coating her shirt, white collar stained crimson. Your father was on his back, sputtering up blood, a knife deep in his chest.

“I know why you didn’t want us to be a family now, baby,” she shot a hard look to your mother hogtied and struggling on the bed, “You were afraid of your parents. Well I’m taking care of them so we can be together,” stepping over your father, Wanda outstretched her arms. Letting out a terrified scream, you dashed to the front door trying to get away, to outside so you could call for help. Kicking the door closed mid-swing, Wanda muffled you with her hand, her other hand trapping you against her. The metallic odor on her made you queasy. “You know better than to fight me,” she seethed through gritted teeth, but you weren’t paying attention, too busy emptying your stomach. Each time a smell hit you, you retched again. You hadn’t noticed her taping your arms behind your back or your ankles together until you were on the floor dry heaving, using your forehead to hold yourself up, vision blurring momentarily. Carding her fingers through your hair, she gently sat you up trying to force you to drink a glass of water but your stomach refused anything.

Placing a piece of tape over your mouth Wanda carried you back to your parents room. Your fight resuming once you were placed on the bed, struggling to rip the tape. Wanda crawled over you placing her hand on your stomach, her long red hair falling on your face. “Stay still. You could hurt the baby,” you froze in complete horror watching your mothers eyes widen. You frantically shook your head trying to tell her it wasn’t true. Effort, unfortunately, in vain when Wanda turned you on your back lifting your shirt to show your baby bump. Closing your eyes, cries racked your body as your mother screamed in shock. You prayed that this was all a nightmare and that you’d wake up soon.

"Didn't think I was serious, did you?,” you opened your eyes to Wanda’s viridescent orbs, “I always mean what I say.” Sliding off of you she bent over the edge of the bed, yanking the knife out of your father’s chest. Her eyes darkened, lips curling into a smile as she looked at your mother. Wanda ripped the tape off your her mouth. Your mother screaming obscenities to both you and Wanda. You backed up until you felt the cool metal of the footrest, curling in on yourself as much as you could, trying to dig your head under the covers hoping to block out the curses of your mother, and get rid of the oncoming nausea. Scooping you up in her arms, you kept your eyes closed as Wanda carried you into the hallway setting you against a wall. Hearing her footsteps fall away and come back Wanda covered you with a blanket. Wanda was quiet, you knew horrible things happen when she is quiet. The second the door closed you let it all out, trying to block out your mother’s screaming. Soon the house fell silent again, save for your sobs as you cried yourself to exhaustion.

———

Waking up your throat was sore, head pounding as you tried blinking your fuzzy sight away. You attempted to move your hips to dissuade the tingling feeling between your legs but Wanda kept her hold, sinking her teeth into your inner thigh.

“Please, stop,” moving to push her head away but she caught your hands, rubbing her thumb on the back of one of your hands. Her hair messy, eyes wild as she devoured you. Her fingers met your walls as she wrapped her lips around your clit, your back arching as you let out a moan. You felt Wanda smile as she sucked harder, curling her fingers. Your head fell back into the pillows, questioning why God would allow this to happen, or if there even is a God. Wanda gazed up at you, thanking God for bringing you into her life, she won’t ever let you go. Wanda refocused her attention, striving to bring you to the edge. A strangled cry left your lips as the knot in your abdomen snapped, your thighs unintentionally squeezing Wanda’s head as the she worked through your orgasm.

“I want to go home, please,” pleading as she stalked up your body like a predator, your juices dripping from her chin. Peppering kisses to your cheek she covered both of you up.

“But angel you are home, with your family,” Settling behind you, her hand falling to your belly, “And nothing will ever change that.”

#reposting #wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #rezwrites

305 notes · View notes