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iipaibai · 2 years

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Artificial Arcane: Chapter Four, Selene.

“Hnnng..” I groaned, rolling over on the carpeted floor. The sun was up, blaring in my eyes, forcing me to wake up.

After a minute or two of debating, I decided to get up and finally open my eyes.

And then it hit me like a bus.

“OH GOD THE FOUNTAIN” I yelped, booking it down the stairs of every. Single. Floor. And running out to meet up with the others.

“Oh, there she is.” Selene mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Olympia clasped her hands together.

“Great. Now that we’re all here, let’s strategize. What are we going to do to get out of here? Any ideas?” She said, giving us all a questioning look.

Syn spoke up. “Selene has an idea!” She said, grabbing onto Selene’s arm and shaking her violently.

“Stop. I’ll go.” Selene agreed and stood up a bit taller.

“I think that we should find the most promising exit and just go. Straight shot. We’ll most likely be fine.” She said seriously.

Was she serious?

“I uhh I don’t think-” I started, but Olympia cut me off.

“Absolutely not. The goal currently is to get out alive. Not dead. We’re aiming to save all of us, not kill more. Please come up with another idea.” Olympia said.

Selene had a look of shock on her face, before she started again.

“We don’t really have time to be stuck in this weird city. Need I remind you that there is a killer who wants our heads?” She straightened out and looked at Olympia with a challenging look.

“We evaded him once, we can do it again. He has flaws. We need to expose them. It’s better to wait back and deal with him than run forward, flailing and blindly.” Olympia said again.

Selene shook her head with a sarcastic smile. “You’re not understanding me. We’re being hunted by a killer. I’m not going to lose my life because you can’t process information.” Selene spoke, venom and sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“I will not lose my life to some little girl who’s throwing a temper tantrum when things do not go her way.” Olympia copied her tone.

“Fine.” Selene scoffed. “Let’s see what the group thinks?” She continued, looking at me and Syn.

Syn shrugged her shoulders and took a step towards Olympia. “Just because you’re my sister, doesn’t mean I’m going to agree with a terrible idea.”

Olympia held a straight face, and Selene was quiet. She looked almost hurt. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Olympia and Selene looked at me.

My heart started to pound out of my chest. I could feel the sweat dripping down my face. I knew that Olympia was right, but it’s just as she said. ‘We’re aiming to save, not kill us all’.

“I.. I um.. I think that O-Olympia is right.. Here..” I mumbled, looking into my shirt and taking a quiet step towards the greater party.

Selene scoffed and whipped around, her long, dark locks moving with her. She stormed off.

“I’ll go after her. She needs to learn that her way isn’t always the best way.” Syn said, nodding to Olympia and I.

“We’ll be looking around. Meet back up here when the sun starts to set.” Olympia said, Syn nodded again and started off.

Once out of sight, Olympia turned to look at me. “Let’s go find Evelyn’s body and bury it. It may bring her some peace.”

I nodded and we went off in the direction of the building where we found Syn.

As Olympia walked and I dragged behind, it felt like hours. The sun was blazing, my feet hurt, and I was thirsty. Luckily, as soon as I was about to complain, Olympia stopped walking. “Here we are.” She said, walking through the same lobby that didn’t look too familiar. Probably because I ran past it.

Too many groans and flights of stairs later, we arrived at the same floor. The electric cage was still there, the rubble was still there, the blood was still there..

WARNING THIS IS GROSS AS HELL LIKE PLEASE DONT EAT WHILE YOU’RE WATCHING THIS I’LL LEAVE ANOTHER WARNING WHEN IT ENDS AND SUMMARIZE IT LIKE THIS IS EW.

As my eyes settled on Evelyn, I could feel my stomach turn. Her body was rotting, flies and maggots covered her face. Her mouth was still wide and there were insects in it. The blood had dried on her stomach, hands, arms, and mouth. There was a small puddle of blood that was just starting to dry

I turned to the side, covering my mouth and doubling over. I could barely stop myself from throwing up.

Olympia’s face was straight as she picked up Evelyn’s body and shook off anything gross.

ALRIGHT YOU’RE GOOD. AZURINE SAW EVELYN’S BODY AND OLYMPIA PICKED IT UP.

“Let’s go.” Olympia said, slinging her over her shoulder.

Olympia started down the stairs and I ran in front of her, making sure I didn’t have to see Evelyn’s body.

We reached the ground floor, and Olympia turned to walk to the left. The sun was high in the sky and we started again on our long, dreaded walk.

We made it, a half hour later, to what looks to be a graveyard. Olympia set down Evelyn, grabbed a very conveniently placed shovel, and started digging.

I looked around at the graveyard. There were tons of different names, all on different gravestones. A few names that caught my eye were Rin, Perci, Pandora, Eros, and Izabella. The graves were a bit neater than the others, and had very unique names. The other gravestones were names like Bobby and Seth.

“Finished. You can look now.” Olympia said, and I turned around. She was patting the ground with the shovel and placed it to the side.

Olympia got on her knees and put her hands together in a prayer. I strained my ears to hear what she was saying, and realized it was a silent prayer.

I hung my head by the outline of the dirt, and said a prayer as well.

After a moment of silence, Olympia stood up and started out the gate. I followed close behind.

As we walked, she spoke. “Should we look around for secure places to sleep?”

I pondered for a moment, and then nodded my head. “We’ll definitely need that.” I said with a soft smile. Olympia tried to turn her head back to hide her smile, but was a second too late. “Heey... I saw that.” I poked at her jokingly.

She only walked faster and told me to keep my eyes out.

I suddenly remembered the conversation with Alastor last night. How did that slip my mind? I looked at Olympia and opened my mouth, but was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream.

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andraxicated · 2 years

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"I always feel like somebody's watching me~"

Pairings: mikey, sanzu, ran, wakasa, draken x f! reader

Synopsis: tokyo revengers men as your obsessive ex

Tags: fluff | obsessive/yandere themes | hurt-comfort if you squint | suggestive | toxic relationship

milestone event masterlist!

a/n: this was supposed to be bonten but I can't see some of them being obsessive ><

Dating him came with the comfort of assured safety. No one would dare cross 'his girl', they knew that if they did, death would follow them. And that assurance eased your worries about dating someone from that line of work, a world that you didn't even want to peek.

designer items, fine cuisine, private jet travels; you experienced all of those thanks to his endless love for his darling. you're someone he wants by his side, his pillar of support, his light in the darkness.

then it was all gone with just a few exchange of words. a 'healthy' breakup that both sides agreed to.

his obsession was definitely not healthy, you were his air. he needed it back.

Mikey

in the bright hours of the night, mikey is looking down, watching you and your date from a building away through a secret camera installed in your date's home before the both of you arrived.

he can't believe you're going on a date after breaking up with him. he hasn't even fucked some whores, yet you're here trying to get him off your mind. the poor taiyaki in mikey's hand gets its filling squeezed out; red beans and cream drip down his hand. he imagines it as the head of the guy who's now offering you wine, 'what an asshole'. mikey can't take it anymore, these coy smiles in between laughter make him sick. jealousy mixed in with his dark impulse was never a good mix.

"who's that?" your hand freezes when you're about to take a sip; continuous persistent knocking that somehow made your blood run cold. it's as if you know what's outside—or more like who's outside.

you put down the wine glass and say "I'll go get it, I think it's my friend." "friend? did you give them my address?" silence ensues because you don't know what to reply. the man then wipes his hands and goes to the door but you quickly get in his way. 'open that and you're dead'

"i'll get it. it's a bit embarrassing but i'm indebted to this friend. so please let us talk privately." you make up a quick lie that the man easily believed, nodding before he turned around.

your heels clack against the floor, your heart shaking to the core, then you open the door revealing the man who's cold, dead eyes you love. "mikey..." your voice barely a whisper as you shut the door behind you. going on a date definitely didn't work, your being longs for him even if you're drinking with another man.

mikey once again got a view of you looking so pretty, too bad that it wasn't for him. oh well, that leaves an awful taste in his mouth.

without any warning, he grabs you by the hair to push your lips forcefully to his and bites your lips which leaves a pleasurable pain. his strong body pushes you onto the door, leaving an audible bump on the other side.

"mikey! someone's inside, ughh" your words became moans as he keeps on nipping your bare skin. marking you as his, licking the soft skin, nose brushing until your legs give out.

his ministrations stop when he feels your pushing growing stronger. his eyes look down on your chest, purple and dark bruises appeared like splashes of art. the painter smirks, proud of his work while your hazy eyes take in the lovely sight of him smiling. wait, he's looking down at your chest?

something clicks and you attempt to go out of mikey's caged arms. "i need to go the bathroom." but mikey won't budge, revealing his teasing eyes reserved only for his baby.

"go inside." he speaks in a domineering voice that makes you stop fumbling. "what? I can't!" your scared voice is music to his ears, a submissive darling that has no choice.

"go inside or leave me with me, your choice baby." his voice together with his fingers playing with your hair does funny things to your tummy. either choice will leave your date in shambles anyway. 'pity he's such a good man', you actually feel bad but going on will embarrass him further.

so you chose to leave with the bad guy, his arms around you as he hides his triumphant smirk.

Sanzu

your shaking hands take the phone out of your pocket, cold fingers dialing the memorized number. it rings and rings but to no avail; you start feeling sinking despair as the ringing grows longer. "pick up please, please, please" a mantra of his name escapes as you pull your knees together, nails pressed to your lips out of habit.

you close your eyes and tell yourself it's gonna be alright, he's always there to save you, sanzu will always save you.

the ringing stops as he finally picks it up. "hellooo?" "sanzu!-" then you heard the anxiety-inducing laughter of women, noisy club music, and his drunk tone. it made you close your lips; why would you call him for help? didn't you break it up with him?

on the other side, sanzu gets worried about your cut-off response, if there's something that can snap him out of his high then it's you. he gets up from his couch, bringing a glass to his mouth until he recoils once he tastes the bitter liquid. 'fuck' "hey you! bring me a glass of water!" he instructs the waiter who bows and leaves.

"hello? (y/n)?" your silence makes him run his hand through his hair, a habit he picked up since you found it hot. "can you come over?" your quiet whisper somehow made it through his ear.

'fucking hell, your voice makes me so horny' sanzu wants to say but he can't, not when his danger instincts tell him that something is going on. "uhm...i guess, why?" he starts to pick up his discarded jacket, buttoning himself and chugging the glass of water. he packs up his knife and gun; checking the bullets as he listens to you. "after i got off work, there was a black van following me, so I kept on going to crowded places but now that I'm home...I'm scared because I think they're following me." you say as your breathing gets quicker, the stress of work and life catching up to you.

"okay, hide somewhere for now, i'll open the door and find you. alright?" "alright"

you stir and find out that you managed to fall asleep, brain still foggy yet you grab your phone that displays '1:30am', you check messages but there's nothing new.

sanzu opens the door with the key and takes in the dark apartment, neat and organized but cold. "(y/n)? it's me sanzu." he takes off the safety of his gun, but suddenly you come out of the bedroom.

messy hair, tired eyes, cheeks stained with dried tears; oh it felt so painful seeing you like that. he brings back the safety of the gun and tucks it onto his waist; long strides that reach you quickly as he presses your head to his chest.

"i'm so glad you're safe. are you hurt somewhere?" you both pull away to see each other and your eyes widen in shock at the blood dripping on the side of his face. "sanzu! blood-" "shhh, it's not mine. i'm okay." he tucks you back to his chest and it feels so safe, so comfortable; makes you want to fear nothing and just be with him.

sanzu realized something that night: that you only call for him when you're desperate, like someone who only prays when they're helpless. he's fine with that, as long as you're in his arms, he's fine with anything.

although, he may resort to making you feel helpless when he feels you're slipping away.

Ran

ran haitani who gets drunk in the afternoon, knocks at your front door, waiting for you to open and take pity on his state. maybe also take him back, but you don’t answer as minutes go by. he looks at his watch that says 10pm; maybe you're asleep, maybe you're having a hard time sleeping without him, maybe- the rain is just falling too hard.

he clenches his fist and bangs the door so fucking loud one last time. "it's me! ran haitani, your ex!" he shouts with his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. ran then turns around to shower in the rain, to cleanse him in his despair.

until you wring open the door with a large t-shirt on. "are you insane?!" ah, how ran misses your cute figure, your voice trying to sound mean but you can't because you care for him deeply.

"insane for you" his smirk shows up on his face before he comes running towards you, wet leather jacket heavy on his body until it becomes weightless when he hugs you.

"ran! get off!" "not without you" he pushes you both into the house, still hugging as you funnily walk backward with his hand on your back to support.

you squint your eyes from the annoyance of his innuendo; he woke you up from your sleep, he scared you half to death and dares to wet your nightclothes.

but you don't pull away. you know this will be the last time, you know what he came here for.

"why are you here" but you still ask for confirmation and ran replies "i just wanted to see you." liar.

"do you want to have closure? is that what you want?" "what?" he finally pulls away, taking the sight of your cold indifferent face. in the face of a gun, in a fight, in an escape from the police; ran haitani has never been scared, except when he sees your emotionless face.

suddenly, you take off your wet shirt, black bra and soft skin baring itself to him. he audibly gulps from your display of boldness, his mind on the brink of losing when he takes a look at your cleavage.

"go on, take off my underwear" your sultry voice is begging for him to fuck you, but ran is the master of self-control; the control you taught him and the one you're threatening to break.

"this is not what I came here for."

your eyes widen as you let go of his belt, ran is visibly disappointed by it but shakes it off because he has to set records straight.

"i didn't come to ask you for a closure sex." ran takes your hand in his, admiring the soft fingers that have never been sullied by blood. "i came to check on you since i heard from my men that they found an enemy group near your house. we think you're being followed." he explains why he came to your house; after the things you've done, the things you've said, he still cares. he still wants to protect you. he's not going to let you go.

when he heard this news at the office, his eyes darkened, his mind already formulating a plan on how to get rid of the disturbance, and how to protect you. he then remembers the smuggled exotic bird that sells for millions of yen, the one that sanzu wants to roast.

"yes, a cage and a bird. still taken care of, still has freedom but has to go back to the cage when playtime's over."

Wakasa

"thank you, but it's really okay if you stop walking me home." "i have to, even if we broke up i still want to make sure you're safe." wakasa pats your head as if on instinct, it then makes you two shift awkwardly because it's what he used to do back then.

he clears his throat and motions for you to go inside, to which you nod and bow. a bow replacing the cheek kisses you used to give him. wakasa watches your retreating figure; his ex girlfriend who he still treats as a friend.

people said it isn't normal if you guys are still friends after you broke up. it's either you still love each other or dated each other for the fun of it.

well, wakasa thinks that his love for you only grows bigger day by day. your absence and his longing mixed in, making him desperate to see you everyday. to touch you, to talk to you, to eat with you; he's so obsessed that he thinks he's going to go insane with only you on his mind.

hand in pockets, he walks away but takes a glance at the window where your bedroom is. the silhouette of you taking off garments is a sight he gets to see every night. he's thankful that you live in a private village but also remorseful from the distance of social class.

after another night of your ex walking you home, you turn on the lights of your room and question your haggard look in the mirror. you want to lie down and rest but you have to go entertain yourself a bit more.

you unbutton your blouse and take off your underwear before wrapping a towel around you. you run the water of the bathtub and just stare at it going up and up until filled to the brim. a thing you did when something's occupying your mind.

you don't know why but it feels like you can't say to wakasa you're going drinking with friends tonight. he has no right to prevent you from going out but his approval...still matters.

"wow, so you're the meaning of fashionably late." your friends tease you as you chuckle and sit down beside one of them. they immediately pour you a drink and place dishes of food near your side. you know this is a ploy to get you to move on; it's annoying but you'll humor them since you're in a mood to get wasted.

wasted it is, as you're now grinding on some unknown man behind you. wakasa would kill either you or your dance partner but he won't know what you're doing tonight anyway.

the moment your eyes lazily look up; you started feeling sorry and scared for the man you're dancing with. your body freezes while the man behind you just keeps on disgustingly grinding his crotch against your butt.

his lilac eyes hold so much contempt at the both of you. you'd think the bottle he's chugging could get chucked and hit straight at your heads.

then wakasa motions for you to go up with his index finger, he's not very happy with you tonight. he always tells you to not go anywhere without him yet you go here and disobey him.

he'd have to punish you; maybe take you away from your bad influence friends, tell your father what you're doing, or just humiliate you in this club tonight. nevertheless, he has to teach you a lesson.

Draken

draken who used you as a rebound but regretted it as soon as you left him. he just realized that it was such an asshole move; you and your good heart were thankfully okay with being friends.

you two are just sincerely friends, no feelings attached and no ulterior motives to the point where draken thought that you're better off just like this.

that was until he saw you going out of a store, arm-in-arm with a man who's around your age. you seemed to be having such a good time. he's so delusional that he thinks you're having a much better time with that man rather than in your relationship with him.

but he shakes them off; getting scared that he might actually be going insane from missing you. he feels like he can't breathe without you tucked in his arms. he's so anxious that he's gonna lose you too, so anxious that his past might harm you.

and so, draken grabs his jacket from the stand, gets his keys, and walks out the door to go and visit his ex.

the house is dark, no lights in sight from the outside; and then the old man next door who smokes sees draken. "young man, she's not there. got picked up by a guy in a fancy car"

no more words are needed as draken quickly jumps on his motorcycle, not even saying a thank you to the elder who helped him find you. he should blame you, you made him like this, like a fucking psycho who can't let go. stalking you, making you feel scared, then comforting you as if he's not the hooded figure you see at the corner of your eye.

you watch his retreating figure go smaller as you carefully go out of the old man's house. tears trickling down your cheeks while relief floods your veins when you took a breath of fresh air. the old man takes a look at your crying face; pity washing over him as he remembers a daughter of his.

"i suggest you move out. convince your mother and leave as soon as you can." he says with one last puff of smoke that goes out into the air.

your kind old neighbor soon passes away a few months after that; you wanted to go attend his funeral but you chose to heed his warning of not going back to that town. however, you can escape from that place but not to this guy.

your doorbell rang and you quickly got up from your bed, thinking about how unusual it is for your package to come so early. you touch the doorknob and pull it open; only to welcome a looming nightmare over you.

seeing draken's large figure and bloodshot eyes made your world spin. the feeling of blood draining from your head, dizziness, and quickening heart rate happened all at once.

"i missed you" his chilly voice echoed inside your home, your feet frozen on the mat while wishing you could shut the door in his face instead.

looks like you're following the old man as death came inside your home and held your lifeless frame.

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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

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summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?” You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #tw noncon #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sm #not sfw #gojo smut #mae.drabble #mae.writing

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xxxavo · 2 years

Text

YEAGERISTS + KINKS

part one: eren, floch and surma

trigger warnings: NFSW. dub-con, bondage, roleplay kinks, power play, knife play, over stimulation, orgasm denial, masochism, mommy/daddy kink, cuckhold, vouyerism, swearing, toxic masculinity and misogyny. VERY MATURE CONTENT.

a lot of floch and some of eren is based off a roleplay with a friend who also writes for aot!! @elijahlittle - they’re amazing!!

surma was just . . . surma was just me getting way to into writing for a side character.

EREN YEAGERS KINKS

master&pet kink:

eren likes you on your knees, between his legs with a shimmering metal collar strapped around your neck. it lets you know your place, beneath him;

you must be as loyal as a dog and not question what he tells you. if you’re bad he’ll strip you of the little clothes you already have, and tie you to a post or lock you up in a little cage with nothing but bowls of food and water. this wouldn’t have happened if you just listened.

but when you’re good? eren might let you sit and eat at the table, maybe he’ll even put a few more layers on your back. one thing he knows for sure, is that he’ll let you sit beside him whilst he pats and plays with your hair.

lots of ‘good girl’ and ‘bad girl’ - he likes to ask ‘whose my little pet? whose my puppy?’ but he won’t accept any other answer apart from ‘woof’. and for your treats? you get to suck him off of course. sometimes, he won’t let you eat until you’ve gobbled up his cock.

erens favorite thing isn’t just looking down at you whilst you stare up at him with needy little eyes, but it’s also the feel of his calloused hands firmly wrapped around your chain, tugging you along absentmindedly even as your knees scrape along the floor as you struggle to keep up.

it’s so cute, you just want to be his good little pet.

degradation kink:

spitting. eren loves it. he loves holding you up by your hair, telling you how ugly you are, how no one would ever want you before spitting in your face, watching as it slowly falls down to coat your lips. even better, eren loves making you open your mouth, letting drool slowly form from the corners of his mouth and watch as it slowly strings down where you hungrily await with your own wide open, waiting for his saliva.

sometimes after a long day eren notices how dirty his shoes are, but he can’t be bothered to clean them. instead he calls you over and points to his feet; you know exactly what to do. you lick and lap up the mud and the scuffs almost to eagerly. when they’re shining and you think you’re done, eren just shakes his head before lifting up his foot and pointing to the bottom, where he’s been treading over the grimy ground and earth; “you’re not done yet.”

eren loves knowing you’ll do anything for him and take everything he gives you. pulling your hair makes his day, he enjoys grabbing you by the back of the hair and arching your back into him, pinching and pulling at your nipple as if you’re nothing but a dirty little whore.

“you like it don’t you? dirty fucking bitch. whose the man? whose your man? that’s right. me.” it’s even better when you degrade yourself, telling him how disgusting and dirty you are. how you belong to him and only him.

maschonism kink:

it’s no secret eren is a very violent and aggressive man. he likes having you scratch down his back to a point where he’s bleeding, blood dripping down onto the bedsheets below. the stinging reminds him that he’s alive.

biting is also game on. it’s like a competition, eren likes to see which one of you can leave more indents in the other persons skin. not hickeys, pure bite marks for all to see, like you’ve both been attacked by wolves.

when he’s feeling extra kinky, eren likes to bring a knife into the bedroom. he enjoys watching you shake fearfully as he runs the blade down your cheeks, scratching your flesh and leaving small little cuts that make you squeak and squeal; “don’t worry. i won’t hurt you. yet.”

slapping is one thing he finds great pleasure in, especially when it’s his cock on your face. he likes watching you sit there and take his length smacking against your features, feeling his hand leave a burning red mark on your ass cheek or breasts. there’s nothing more delightful then a long lasting mark to eren.

cuckhold kink:

eren dosent like being the cuckhold, he likes being the one doing the cuckholding. he likes staring into the eyes of your husband as he slowly and deliberately thrusts into you, making you whine and whimper, begging for more.

he likes you to specifically call out his name, and he makes you tell your husband how much better eren is then him, how you’d leave him if eren actually wanted you.

the ring on your finger? eren simply lifts up your hand and gently slides it into your mouth, whispering into your ear; “swallow it.” before he pulls your hand out, making you sprawl your fingers out to your husband so he can see how much your marriage actually means to him. nothing. it was a shitty ring anyway. he could buy you a better one. it’s better that your husbands one ends up in the sewers.

taking it a step further, eren likes the husband to be tied down onto the bed whilst himself and his wife roll over him. he likes to have his wife on her hands and knees over him as he thrusts into her, so the husband has a perfect view of erens cock gliding in and out of his wife’s pussy, the husbands face coated with both their juices.

when he’s done, eren will leave the husband to do the after care. why should he waste his time? he has better things to do.

FLOCH FORSTERS KINKS

mommy kink:

floch loves being the daddy, and he loves you to be his pretty little mommy. nothing makes him happier then coming home after a long day to see his pretty little mommy slaving away over the stove, huffing and puffing as she tries to keep up with all his demands.

he won’t even help you with his chores. mommy’s job is at home and in the kitchen, daddies is at work earning money to help them live comfortably. he won’t even lift up his own feet as you mop, you’ll have to do that for him.

floch likes to think of himself as an important man, and an important man likes to suck his mommy’s titties from time to time. he likes having you cock warm him whilst he works, absentmindedly smacking your ass as he wraps his lips around your hard, sensitive nipples.

he especially likes it when you’re on your knees underneath his desk, “does daddy want mommy to make him happy?” it’s one thing him calling you mommy, but you calling yourself mommy? floch likes to be in charge, to he dominant, but he won’t argue if mommy wants to suck his cock till he can barley talk or if she wants to ride him for long hours into the night. mommy needs to look after daddy after all.

humiliation kink:

degrading you, floch takes immense pleasure in it, but humiliating you? it’s a whole other ball game for floch.

he likes you to know you’re nothing. just there to simply fulfill his whims and wishes. floch likes to sit at the head of the dinner table and pour his wine onto the floor, all whilst staring at you; “what are you waiting for? clean it up - not with a cloth.” and you’ll know exactly what he means, ending up begging him not to make you lap away at the stain on the floor with your tongue, but it’s pointless, he’ll make you do it anyway.

having you naked on the floor is just as fun, his boot pressing down into your cheek or your breasts, squishing you until your begging and pleading him with all your might to let you up. he’s not so sure though, do you really deserve to get up? you look better on the floor. it’s where worthless people belong after all.

he especially likes to humiliate you in public. he enjoys having his friends over, making you run back and fourth fetching them beers and making them sandwiches. he’ll rant about how that’s all you’re good for, just a mindless housewife who makes food and gets fucked. it’s all you’ll ever be. to prove his point, he’ll have you sat on his lap, bouncing his knee in between your legs to stimulate you.

and when him and his friends are finished he’ll make you clean and wash up whilst there all still there, and as a job well done when you’re picking up the last plate he’ll give you a nice slap to the ass. “what a good bitch.”

pregnancy kink:

there is nothing more appealing to floch then seeing some poor pathetic woman he’s worn down stood in the kitchen with bare feet, sore breasts and a big round belly.

he loves knowing he’s managed to tie you down. that you’re so dependent on him for everything whilst you’re like this. oh so vulnerable, waddling up to him with tears in your eyes as you ask him to do something for you as simple as tying your shoe laces.

whilst you’re pregnant, floch will come up behind you, grasping and kneading your breasts as you moan and whine at him, telling him to be gentle, that they’re sore. but he dosent care, in fact he loves doing it a little to much. his biggest fantasy is forcing you to lean over as he milks your breasts, chuckling as you cry out, or suckling on them himself.

when you’re getting into bed together floch will help you get undressed, because look at how fat you are, you won’t be able to do it yourself! and once he has you laying on your back, he’ll happily run his slimy tongue along your belly and push your legs open to give him perfect access. you’ve been so tired all day carrying around all that extra weight, even if you did want him to stop, you’re to exhausted to tell him.

he especially enjoys letting random men touch your belly. it’s his baby after all that you’re carrying, so he decides what happens to your body, not you. floch likes his friends to smirk at you, smugly tap your big belly and ask him how easy it was for him to get you blabbering for his cock to fill you up to the brim.

orgasm denial kink:

floch is always in someone else’s shadows. eren and zeke yeagers, jean kirsteins, the list could go on. floch craves power, and nothing makes him feel more powerful then you whimpering and crying underneath him all because he’s denying you that sweet orgasm that’s been building up in your belly the past hour.

“aw poor mommy, does it hurt? can you almost feel that— snap?” he’ll laugh as tears flow freely from your cheeks, as you try to rut yourself back into his fingers.

he likes the feeling of your thighs and pussy coated in so much juice it’s almost to easy for him to slide into your right little hole.

he’ll lean down and lick up your tears, starting to finger your again until he can feel his favorite thing in the world, you clenching around him, trying desperately to hold his hand in place but no, it just won’t work. if you want to reach your end, you have to work for it.

it will be something that at first floch hates, but eventually he does kind of like orgasm denial on himself, but for one reason in particular. when he has had enough and loses his patience, he likes to force your mouth down on his throat by gripping the back of your head, and throat fucking you so hard you can barley speak the next day as the sides of your mouth drip with his cum.

SURMA KINKS

vouyerism kink:

surma seems to be a hardcore type of guy; but it’s a front, in reality he’s kind and his actions often lead to regret. sometimes he feels undeserving, even undeserving to be with you.

he enjoys hiding in small, cramped spaces like your closet, or under your bed, and looking through gaps and spaces as you pull your clothes off over your head and shimmy your trousers down your legs, exposing yourself completely to him.

there’s something about you not knowing he’s there that makes his bottom lip quiver and his cock grow hard. he holds one hand over his mouth and one to stroke and masturbate as his eyes focus on your breasts and ass, soaking in every curve and crevice you have.

surma especially enjoys peeking at you showering through holes in the walls, watching as you cover yourself in lavender smelling soap as droplets stroke your skin, making you shimmer and shine just for his eyes only.

he gets a thrill every time you pause, wondering if that’s heavy breathing you’re hearing or just the wind? “oh well.” you say, not knowing surma was in your closet, coating your clothes in his cum. “i’m just being paranoid.”

cockhold kink:

as someone a bit more on the vanilla side, surma dosent want to hold you back in your sex life, and he’s more then happy to sit back and watch someone else give you pleasure in a way that he can’t. besides, he enjoys it, not having to do all the work yet reaping the rewards.

surma likes to sit right beside the bed so he’s up close, able to watch your face contort as a man that’s not himself thrusts his big cock into your pussy, kissing up and down your neck as you moan out his name, and not surmas.

he loves feeling small and weak, because it makes him feel all the more secure in himself when you end up back with him, fucking him, and telling you how much you love him. but until then, he likes to watch someone else mark your skin as they wish you were there’s, but you’re not, your his.

if he’s feeling extra out there, surma likes the man to take you doggy style as they look into his eyes, telling him how you’re a whore, telling him how his girl is just a quick slut to fill in his time. he likes to watch you cry, realizing you belong to surma, and no one else wants you.

surma will tug on his cock as he hears you near your orgasm, and he’ll make sure to cum with you at the same time, crying just as much.

afterwards surma likes to be the one to give you after care, to let the man on his way as he runs his fingers along your folds and frowning softly as you whimper; “don’t worry sweet heart, i’ll make sure you’re looked after. i’ll be gentle.”

overstimulation kink:

the way you twitch and whine, trying to pull your hips away from him to give yourself a break swells surma with pride. he’s not good at much, so he likes how skilled he feels when you’re babbling up at him to stop because you feel sore.

“is that what you really want though?” he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your jawline. “because you keep spreading your legs wider.” and to prove his point he’ll circle your clit with his thumb and smile as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

there’s no safer places to surma then having his head buried between your thighs, his hands holding your wiggling hips in place as his tongue licks up all your juices and prods all your more sensitive areas.

he especially likes watching you try to crawl away, slapping away his wrists as he continues to assault your poor abused womanhood. but when he has you right back where he wants you, butterflies so close to erupting in your stomach, you’re screaming and begging for more.

shame he won’t give it to you. not yet anyways.

orgasm denial kink:

knowing he’s at your mercy makes surma want to orgasm right there and then, but you won’t let him. he loves looking up to you through teary eyes as you smirk down at him, telling you to beg if he wants to release.

surmas favorite position is being on his hands and knees as you milk him for all his worth, your breasts smooshed against his back as you whisper into his ear, licking his lobe as you tell him “you’re such a good little boy” and “just hold out a little longer for me, kay?”

his cock feels so cold when your hand or mouth isn’t clamped around it. when he tries to finish himself off you tut at him, tell him how naughty he’s being, and if he’s naughty? he has to wait even longer. surma dosent want that, so he whimpers and looks to you for guidance.

again your guidance is sliding down onto him, being ever so slow as you grind down on his cock, watching as he grips at the mattress and tries to change the pace of your hips, but he can’t.

and when he finally is allowed to orgasm? it’s the best experience of his life. he groans so loud it practically vibrates through the walls, and he swears he’s never cum so much.

but sometimes, sometimes you slide off of him one last time and say; “finish yourself off.” before leaving him needy, sweaty and alone.

he just can’t get enough of you.

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

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Aomine, kise, and Akashi with their s/o using their safe word? Maybe a short fic for each?

A/N: you got it (•̀ᴗ•́ )و …also please excuse my lack in creativity concerning the safeword, I sadly had no better and serious-sounding one than ‘RED’ .-. and I wrote this from a fem!reader’s perspective since I wasn’t sure which one you were referring to! Make sure to get back at me if you wanted it from a different perspective!! ♥️

Tags/Warnings: smut (18+!!) ✅ rough sex (in form of insufficient prep) ✅ ❚ overstimulation ✅ ❚ BDSM play ✅ shibari/bondage ✅ use of blindfold ✅ spanking ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kise:

You knew that you should’ve insisted on talking with Kise.

The moment he came home you could already guess that something had happened and that his mood was down in the dumps. Usually, he would grin at you, hurriedly throw his shoes and jacket away, and then proceed to shower you with kisses, but today was different…

Today he’d come in and pretty much whispered that he was home, his movements were pretty sluggish, and even when you’d ran up to him the smile he gave you was barely noticeable. You were pretty quick in understanding that something had happened, so you immediately asked him about it, but he just shook his head in denial and reassured you that everything was alright and that you shouldn’t worry.

You decided to let it go for the time being and see how the evening played out, but unfortunately for you, there was no progress. Eventually, you decided to use your plan B: getting the truth out of him with sex.

He was one of those types that first needed some buttering up before they were ready to spill the beans and one of many ways - and the quickest - you succeeded in doing that was through bodily intimacy.

You had wrapped your arms around his neck from behind and started kissing his neck, whispering sweet nothings along his skin. It took a tad longer than usual for him to relax and indulge himself in your caresses, but things eventually took their course, and within a matter of minutes he’d taken over.

It felt amazingly good at first, the way his gentle hands roamed your body, exploring, experimenting, observing your reactions as he searched for your weak spots. The way your breath hitched when he began to play with your exposed nipples, paired with the slight tremble of your body as he let his fingers slide along your skin fired him up.

He’d soon gotten on top of you and while his mouth and tongue were busy pleasuring your chest’s sensitive buds, his fingers were preparing your lower body for what’s to follow…and that’s when it all went wrong.

Usually, he’d take his time to prepare you thoroughly with his fingers and his mouth. The way he enjoyed the slight thrashing of your body when he intentionally rubbed his fingertip against your g-spot never failed to make him smile proudly and your sweet moans when his tongue’s tip circled your puffy clit was the cherry on top. Next to making you feel good he also teased you occasionally. You like it like that, right? Hm? Is it here (Y/N)-cchi? You’re so cute you know that? You never told him, but his words never failed to increase the already intense pleasure you were receiving.

But today, after making out with you for a short while, he’d laid you down on your bed, raised your shirt up, freeing your breasts that he then kissed and pinched a few times before shifting his attention to your lower body. Once your panties were off you watched him lick two of his fingers and proceeded to stretch you, only problem was that after what felt like half a minute he pulled back and began unbuttoning his jeans, seemingly ready to move on.

You tensed up a little and tried to analyze the meaning of his rather absentminded facial expression. Many thoughts crossed your mind, such as him planning on having dry sex with you or just using his cock to get you wetter, but as soon as you felt his tip against your entrance, your mind went blank.

One of your hands stretched out towards the young man’s chest, planning on pushing him back a little, but a sharp pain made you freeze up on the spot. With wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the painful way your walls were being stretched apart. Your free hand took a tight grip on the bed sheets, while the one on Kise’s chest ended up scratching his skin and even managed to draw some blood. All of these wordless pleas went unnoticed, your boyfriend’s attention was elsewhere but despite that, he didn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth.

The pain gradually faded away but didn’t disappear completely and slowly but surely it became unbearable for you. Despite wanting to groan in pain, you bit the inner side of your cheek and began stuttering: “R-Ryou, wait please!”

Your voice was hoarse and slightly raspy from forcing back your pained moans so it barely managed to reach the young man’s ears. After vainly trying for a few more times you needed to resort to more drastic measures, so you moved both of your hands up to Kise’s face, taking a tight hold of his cheeks.

“Kise Ryouta! Red!”

The combination of his full name and the safeword both of you had agreed upon just in case, finally succeeded in catching his attention.

His eyes widened slowly as he realized what was going on. You're tensed up and slightly sweaty body beneath him, the pulsating pain in his chest, the almost painful tightness of your rather dry walls, and the most agonizing image for him: your pale face and slightly reddened lips.

Panic contorted his earlier calm facial features and he immediately pulled out, causing you to hiss at this unexpected motion.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)-cchi, I-I’m so so sorry, I–…god…h-how could this happen? W-What did I…what did I d-do?”

The tremble in his voice caused him to stutter as his shaking hands ran along your body in order to make sure that he hadn’t hurt you in any other way. His fingertips barely made contact with your skin, because he was afraid of touching you in some kind of way that could harm you any further. It was obvious that your usage of the safeword had shaken him up, even more than you’d expected, but this was your only option at that time…

With a sad smile, you took his hands in yours, brought them up to your lips, and kissed his knuckles, the sudden gesture making him flinch.

“Ryouta…do I now have your attention?” you softly asked, your kind tone moving him to tears as he ever so carefully embraced you and started apologizing multiple times. The earlier pain might not have been completely gone, but that was secondary, now you caressed the blond head that was buried in the crack of your neck, wet tears dripping down from your collarbone to your chest. In between your lover’s sobs you silently reassured and lectured him about how he shouldn’t go along with your antics if he wasn’t up for it.

When Kise had calmed down he finally raised his head to face you, his snotty and tear-stained face making you smile, as he once again begged for your forgiveness, promising you that the next time his mood was off he’d talk to you about it instead of bottling it up. Knowing that he was a man of his words you nodded proudly and gave his lips a tender kiss.

“Now then…ready for a second attempt?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Aomine:

Being Aomine’s lover was like a rollercoaster ride, at times he could be the person of your dreams while on others he was an unbearable asshole. Even though his attitude managed to make you see red ever so often, it also made your sexual life spicier.

He was a beast in bed, who managed to push you beyond your limits every single time. There was no such thing as can’t for him.

You can’t get into a certain position? He’ll make sure to mold your body into the position he wants you to be, regardless of how flexible you are or aren’t.

You can’t take his teasing anymore and want him to penetrate you? Sorry sweetheart but you’ll have to wait until he’s up for it and until then you’re free to beg and whine about it, providing him with further music to his ears.

You can’t hold your orgasm back any longer and want to cum? Telling him that is a bad move really because the moment he hears that he’ll grin to himself and stop all movements, wait for your body to calm down despite your numerous pleas, and resume only when he’s confident that you’re far away from reaching your high.

And it was precisely because of these past experiences that the two of you had agreed upon a safeword that you were to use only when things went too far. Both you and Aomine were confident that such a time wouldn’t come, until today…

While you were folding the laundry, your lover was in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes you’d more or less had to force him to do. Upon remembering his pouty face you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself, not noticing the tall young man creep up behind you with a mischievous grin.

“Got you!” he called out as he wrapped his arms around your body and pressed himself towards your back. You were caught off guard for a split second but decided to indulge his playfulness as a ‘reward’ for doing the dishes, but your lover unexpectedly took your well-meant intention out of proportion…

“Daiki…w-wait!” you manage to stammer out, your shaky hand gently slapping against the back of the bigger hand that’s hooked around your rib cage. Without fulfilling your request the man behind you keeps the thrust of his hips steady, as he palms your left breast and kneads it.

His slightly chapped lips run along the slight curve of your neck and pepper it with sloppy kisses. You flinch as you feel his other hand slide down your body, heading straight for your clit, and without wasting another second, starts massaging it.

Your vision gets blurry as you feel his rough finger mercilessly draw circles on your already sensitive bud and your moans grow louder as he bottoms out deep inside of you, the slapping of his balls further amplifying the squelching noise echoing in the room. All you can do is cling to him as you feel the knot inside you slowly tightening and dreading to burst any second from all the ministrations.

“You gonna cum?” he asks in a low whisper while nibbling on your ear. You bite your lower lip and nod multiple times as you squeeze your eyes shut and ready yourself for your orgasm.

The moment your walls squeezed down on Aomine’s shaft it made him shudder in pleasure and groan out a silent that’s it as he slowed down his hips’ thrusts, letting you indulge in your orgasm. His deep blue eyes fondly observed the way your body twitched and the slight tremble of your thighs against his own made him tighten his grip around you. While you were still trying to recover from the intense wave of pleasure that had shaken you, you felt how your boyfriend’s cock hardened inside of you, but before you could call out to him, the man took a fistful of your hair and pushed your face down on the pile of folded clothes before you.

He resumed his earlier thrusting speed, but thanks to the slight change in positions he managed to hit the entrance to your womb every single time his hips collided with your soft behind. Truth be told, when Aomine saw you - the person he loved so much - cum that hard by his hands it flipped a switch inside of him. The young man was usually holding many of his kinks and desires back out of worry for the consequences they’d have on your body, but right now all these worries had disappeared and were replaced by a single thought.

I’ll give her an orgasm that will mess her up

You felt an enormous weight push your back further into the mattress, your legs were spread apart, pulled back, and trapped beneath muscular calves. Something told you that whatever was about to happen it wasn’t going to be pleasant, so before your lover began you reached back, searching for his hand and whispering out his name in a slightly trembling voice.

Whatever your intention was, it was completely ignored by your boyfriend, because the moment he heard the silent call of his name he began to downright fuck you as if there was no tomorrow. Your eyes widened at the fast speed at which you were spread apart and the way his body had pinned you to the bed provided you with further friction that made you tear up.

You wished you could say that it felt good, but that might have been the case on another day where you hadn’t cum as hard as you did a few minutes ago. Right now you were in pain. Every thrust forward made your stomach tense up painfully, while each graze of the bedsheets against your abused clit made you jump; you were just so sensitive from before that anything Aomine did, made you shudder and jump as if he was throwing ice-cold water at your burning skin.

Even when you loudly pleaded with him to wait or stop, he seemingly didn’t hear you and kept going. So with not much of a choice left, you tried pushing yourself back against him, your safeword escaping your lips. ”Aomine, stop! Red! Red!“

And just like that all of his movements seized almost immediately, the weight on your back was lifted in an instant, and you were carefully pulled up right into the man’s muscular arms. He didn’t have to say anything, the tight hold around your sore body was enough to get the message across.

You relaxed against his chest and let your head drop on his shoulder as you finally granted your body a well-deserved break from all the over-stimulation. Only when you felt better did you wrap your arms around him.

“…’m sorry (Y/N)” he mumbled against your head in an unusually regretful and pained tone. Having you use the safeword the two of you had agreed upon was something neither of you thought would happen and now that it did, it was quite shocking.

You closed your eyes and planted a soft kiss on his neck, your hand moving up to the back of his head and gently ruffled his slightly sweaty hair.

“It’s ok Daiki, just…just let me rest for a bit next time before going all out like that, ok?”

He leaned back to look into your eyes and sniffled silently, before nodding a few times and giving you a peck on the lips.

Akashi:

Being as perfectionistic as Akashi was in nearly everything proved to be good in certain situations, though truth be told, the young man had bettered himself and was now less hard on himself than before, mainly thanks to you.

In the first few months of your relationship with him, everything was going perfectly well, including your sexual life. He was very attentive and always listened to any worry or topic you had on your mind, not only that but he was also very quick to pick up whenever something didn’t sit well with you. The best example of such a moment was when you’d first started having sex with each other.

Everything was, as expected, perfect but as time went on you felt like something was missing. It just wasn’t enough, you thought and it took you a while to bring it up and when you finally did things turned out to be unexpectedly different.

“Just use the safeword whenever you feel like it’s becoming too much for you or when you’re uncomfortable or anything of that sort, ok?” he softly asks as he tightens the last knot of the red rope around your body, watching you nod in agreement.

The young man took a few steps back to admire his handiwork and deeply breathed in as he pulled out a thin black fabric from one of the shelves. His slender and slightly rough hands brought the fabric around your face and before robbing you of your vision completely, he wanted to confirm the safeword one last time.

“What do you say when you want me to stop?”

“…red” you answered in a silent but firm voice, your response earning you a gentle kiss on the nape of your neck before everything went dark.

The silence and darkness that surrounded you, made you so nervous that you could practically hear the way your heart thumped against your bosom. Your breathing quickened and caused the ropes to practically bore into your skin with each lift of your chest. When you felt the gentle hands of your beloved trail down your back it made goosebumps adorn your skin and you slightly shivered at the prickling sensation.

Just as you’d gotten used to it, the warmth left your back and with your heightened senses, you listened to the faint steps of the red-haired young man who yet again turned around to pull something out of the drawer once more. While Akashi was doing that you tried to get a better feel for the ropes that were constraining your movements, so you wiggled slightly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to move around now did I?” you heard a low voice mutter behind you and before you could apologize you felt something cold hit your exposed butt. You yelped out in surprise and instinctively attempted to raise your hand to cover your mouth, but the ropes stopped you mid-movement, their rough structure leaving faint marks behind.

After that failed attempt you began to take slow but deep breaths, ignoring the tight feeling surrounding your body. That’s when you felt the object Akashi had spanked you with touch your back and trace your spine’s curve with the leathery surface.

“I trust you’ll behave so that I don’t have to do that again” he cooed next to your ear, kissing it gently while eagerly awaiting your response.

Being in control was nothing new to the young man and it usually didn’t mean much, but now that the person he loved was at the palm of his hands, leaving both their vision and body entirely to him gave him a new sense of power he’d never felt before. His hands were trembling with excitement and just the mere thought of all the possibilities that this little play had in store for you made the tent in his pants feel tighter than before.

Not receiving an answer for that short while during which he fantasized about the upcoming pleasure and sweet pain he’d provide you with, made him a tad impatient, so he brought his arm around your body and teasingly tugged on the knot between your breasts while his other hand lifted the black leather belt from your back and prepared for another spank.

“So you’re not going to answer, huh?”

spank

You tensed your muscles and bit your lower lip as you felt the object hit your buttocks for a second time, but instead of the same tingling sensation from before it hurt, and whenever the cold air around you made contact with your reddened skin it burned so bad that it knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you behind panting and gasping for air.

Mentally you were still stuck at the first time he spanked you, his unexpected words and the surprising roughness he treated you with were still stuck in your mind.

Was that really the same Akashi who treated you like a delicate flower during your first few times? Did he use his entire strength or is he still holding back?

Question after question poured into your mind, but before you could speak one of them aloud you were slapped yet another time.

“You must be really feeling it if you’re defying me for that long”

N-No…i-it hurts

You clenched your fists and let your nails dig into the ropes around your hands to try and cope with the pain and the way he played with your nipples wasn’t helping.

“S-Sei…w-wait”

“Hm? What was that my dear? I think you might want to speak up a little, or else I won’t know what you want” he said in a playful tone, positioning the belt on your bruised skin.

“N-No, Seijuro please!” you begged, body thrashing around, disregarding the slight sting of the ropes. You felt his gentle arms protectively wrap around your body as he leaned his chin on your shoulders and said: “(Y/N)…we agreed on something, didn’t we?”

His voice was silent but carried a certain amount of sternness that made you freeze up and look down in shame. Through gritted teeth, you whispered out the safeword and remained motionless as your lover began removing the ropes around your body. Much to your surprise, they were tighter than expected, so the moment they were loose enough for removal, you felt your blood circulation resume its course without disruption, making you feel a little weak on your knees.

“It wasn’t that hard now was it, (Y/N)?” Akashi asked as he carefully removed your blindfold and walked around you, now facing you. He let his eyes glide up and down your body, regret distorting his facial features.

“I-I’m sorry Sei, I just…I didn’t want to back out because it wa–”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know” he interrupted and caressed your cheeks before finishing what he intended to tell you, “but I told you to use our safeword if something wasn’t to your liking, didn’t I?”

You nodded and apologized to him, but you were still not looking into his eyes, only when he lifted your chin with his finger did your eyes meet. With a small smile, he gave your lips a soft kiss and smiled. “Just make sure to speak up next time, ok? I’ll never be mad at you or anything if you do…this is why we agreed on a safeword after all, right?”

A wide grin adorned your lips as you nodded energetically a few times and wrapped your arms around the neck of your boyfriend, relieved and happy that you worked it out.

#knb scenarios #kuroko no basket smut #knb smut #kise smut #aomine smut #akashi smut #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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bobbys-naughty-corner · 3 years

Text

So I’ve been playing dead by daylight recently and searching fan art of the game so now I’m horny for slashers. Here’s a fic of pyramid head

Warning: noncon/dubcon, 18 +, explicit. Read at own risk

Pyramid Head x reader

I woke right beside a generator and quickly rushed towards it. I hated when the trail started, I’m sure everyone does. And this place always made me more uncomfortable than any other. The killer being Pyramid Head gave me the hardest time. I’m used to getting caught and hooked but not caught and fondled. He’d know exactly where I was and always chased after me as if I was the only here. I wanted to get out of this school as quickly as I could. “Hey.” Feng whispered as she came to help me with the generator. I nodded her way and she told me she saw Pyramid Head on the other side of the school last. She knew I had the worst time with him. I heard the start of another generator across the hall, I guess that was the other survivors. Feng and I were close to finishing but when I saw Meg and Jake run pass the classroom my heart instantly sank and I felt uneasy. We’re they being chased. My heart beat thumped loudly in my ears and Feng and I both knew Pyramid Head was coming. But we didn’t even bother leaving the generator, we were so close.

Feng gasped and looked above me. I felt my body yanked and slammed against one of the desk in the room. Pyramid Head wrapped his hand around my neck, choking the life out of me. Feng flashed her flashlight in his face and he let me go, shielding himself from the light. I gasped and coughed, rolling off the desk and running away. I heard Feng cry out and she sprinted out the room limping and trailing blood. I helped her down the corridor and we rounded a corner to the infirmary and I covered her mouth as she cried in pain. When my heart beat stopped pounding in my ears I instantly healed her up. Using some of my clothing to bandage her wound. “Thank you Feng. Can you continue or do you need a minute?” She shook her head and stood up like she was never hurt. “Let’s go, we have one generator left.” And right as she said that we heard the doors turn on. They fixed all of the generators? Jake and Meg were really good at the generators. We left the infirmary and headed towards the Teachers room we’re we met up with Jake. “Hey! This way!” He beckoned us over and we rushed over to him. He led us to the doors that was already being opened by Meg.

My heart beat again thuddd in my ear and everyone scattered. Well everyone except Meg. She bravely stayed opening the gate even while Pyramid Head approached her. “Meg! Run!” I yelled at her. The killer turned his huge cone head towards my voice and began walking towards me. I ran down the corridor, his large very oversized sword dragging against the floor as he chased me. He was slow but not as slow as Michael. I heard the blaring sound of the gate opening. If I could just get around him I’ll be free. I ran up the stairs to the second floor and entered the equipment room. Hiding in the corner. I panted and tried to steady my breathing as I heard his sword clanging against the stairs as he came up. Should I have ran further? Maybe, but it was too late for that now. I didn’t hear the dragging of metal, I know he was on this floor. My heart still thudded in my ears, so I know he was close. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. He was absolutely terrifying. My legs shook and my body dripped in sweat. Calm down, you’ll get out of this. Just relax. I took a deep breath in and out. But I nearly lost my shit when a hand clasped over my mouth. I opened my eyes wide and panicked but calmed down when I saw it was Jake. He put a finger to his lips to shush me. I nodded and he took his hand away from my mouth. He led me out of the room and down the stairs. We crouched and crept to the door. Jake stopped when he heard clanging infront of us. He pushed me against the wall and pressed his body over mine, caging me in between his arms as we hid from Pyramid Head. My chest touched his as I took heavy breaths. “Listen. He’s just going to keep going after you so I’ll distract him and you run to the door okay.” Jake said. He looked into my eyes and smiled a little. “No, I can’t let you do that. You could be killed.” I replied back. Our whispering was pretty loud but the tension only grew when we heard the killer again. “I’ll be right after you. I’m only going to run around the floor once and head straight for the door right after.” He said. I shook my head which made Jake frown. “Do you want to get out of this alive or what? We can’t just argue until he gets us. Now when I say run, you run. Got it.” He was stern and his tone was deep. As if talking to a child. I just sighed and nod my head in agreement.

Jake peeked out the door and motioned me to follow him. We continued to crouch towards the door. When we were close to the door we heard running. Fast, heavy thudding footsteps coming right at us. We turned around and saw Pyramid head sprinting. Since when?! We scrambled to our feet but Jake tripped over his laces. When I went to go help him back up he pushed me. “Run!” He yelled at me right before the sword pierced through his body. The sword even went through the floor. Jakes blood quickly spilled and touched my boots. I pushed myself back as Pyramid Head stepped towards me. I turned around and tried to run but he grabbed me by my hair. I was so close. The gate was right there. I cried, kicked and screamed as he dragged me down the corridor. He dragged me into the teacher room by the stairs and forced me over the desk. My face against the desk while his other hand held my hip. I gasped and jumped when I felt something grinding on my ass. His hand tore my shirt from where I had ripped it to help Feng. He grabbed my bra and tugged on it a couple of times. “Wait! What are you doing?! Stop!” I tried to push myself up but he was definitely stronger than me. The little muscle I had and height couldn’t even compare with him. He was a real beast. He pulled my bra this time making the fabric rip, the wire underneath cut my skin and it came off. He grunted, pleased to see my exposed back. Trailed his huge hand down my spine. Gurgles coming from the inside of his ‘head’, as if trying to speak.

He released my hair and my body. When I tried to get up he pushed me back but still didn’t hold me down. “Agh!” I cried at the force. I tried getting up again and he slammed me harder into the wood. I stayed still knowing if I moved he would just do the same thing. He wanted me to be against the desk but didn’t want to hold me down. After a couple of second of obeying him he raked his nails down my back. Digging into my skin enough to draw blood as his hands trailed from my shoulders down to the dimples above my ass. I kept silent, crying to myself as the pain of his nails nearly had me kicking. I forced myself to stay still. I felt the flat end of that pyramid on his head drag the blood down my back, playing with it and painting my skin in my own blood. His hands came beside my body on the desk and he bang to grind his bulge against my ass again. His grinding turned into humping. He pushed up my skirt and put his hand back on the desk and humped my ass, his bulge hitting right at my covered heat. He was rough and pushed my body into the desk, making the desk shake every time his hips slammed against my butt.

I was undeniably wet. My vagina enjoying the teasing of him trying to fuck me through our clothes. Well what ever it was he wore. I whimpered and held back my moans. My hands covering my mouth. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. His humps got faster and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I moaned out and he pressed a hand to my lower back keeping me and the desk steady as he continued to thrust against my vagina. I heard small sounds of pleasure, grunts and groans, coming from him. Of course he was enjoying this. It was sick. What got him all riled up? Was it the killing? It couldn’t be? He didn’t do this to anyone else. But how would I know? I wouldn’t tell anyone about this. Did he does this to Meg, Claudette, or Feng? Would he even care whether if they were male or female? I was taken away from my thoughts when I felt his finger slide against my panty. I gasped and squirmed away, covering my breast and crawling on my ass. He growled angrily. He pointed to the desk and I shook my head. “Just kill me!” I rather die then go any further. He grunted and pointed at the desk again. “No!” I yelled. He stomped over to me and grabbed my arm. I yelped and stared at the pyramid as if looking at his face and whimpered. He pulled me up and brought me back to the desk. Gurgling and squishy sounds emanating from the Pyramid. It made me cringe. He was clearly trying to speak. He pointed to the desk once more and released my arm.

I shook my head no and he pushed me. He kept pushing me. Trying to make me to lay on the desk on my own. As he pushed and shoved me he growled. “Okay! Okay!” I yelled at him. I bent over but he lifted me back up and shook the Pyramid left and right, ‘no’. He didn’t want me in that position anymore. I used one hand to jump on the desk and lean back. He let out an approved grunt. He knelt down and the metal pyramid touched the bottom of my breast. He pushed my thighs up and apart. I stared at the ceiling and tried to remove myself mentally. Thinking of my new friends. Knowing that they’re back at camp, probably wondering where I was but safe until another trial. I gasped and nearly sat up when in felt something long and wet swipe across my slit. The pyramid vibrated as if he was laughing. His fingers moved my panty to the side but he still ripped them. His hand then came up and grabbed mine. I flinched away but he grabbed them again, gently this time. Entangling his fingers in mine, I let out a shuddered moan when the wet appendage licked my exposed folds. My hips bucked slightly and my legs rested on the edge of the desk. Did he really have a tongue? Does that mean he has a head? No, at least I don’t think so. The Pyramid was too narrow for anyone to wear.

He licked up and down my folds until his tongue slipped passed them and found my clit. “Mmmm!” I squealed through my closed lips. His right hand left my hand and used my arousal to soak his dirty fingers. I felt disgusted having him touch me like this but it did feel good. He was gentle this time. Unlike when he was humping me. I’d soon eat my words when he forced two fingers into my vagina at once. I cried and grit my teeth. My free hand pushing at his head while my other hand squeezed his. He grunted and I felt the wet muscle poke my clit. Flicking at my clit teasingly making me moan. His fingers scissored my hole, stretching me out. It felt uncomfortable since he was a big and thick man thing. His fingers moving in and out of me, the sounds of my wet pussy filled my ears. I squirmed underneath him and he groaned. His ‘tongue’ or whatever it was entered my hole between his fingers. It was longer, really long, and it licked my insides so nicely. My eyes rolled back and his fingers slowly slid out of me, holding my thigh as his tongue are me out. I felt my stomach sink in but also expand as my bladder filled up. I know that feeling. As many times as I loved it I hated it now. “Please stop I don’t want to.” I cried. He just continued and massaged my thigh. My arousal dripping down his chest and I was so close to cumming on him. He growled and the vibration sent me over. My back arched as much as it could and I cried out, I squirted over him and he pulled his tongue out. Tears streamed down my face and my legs closed when he stood up again.

I heard that thing he wore fall to the floor. He was now naked and I couldn’t look away from him. If he was clean I would be able to appreciate the massive body he owned but he was dirty and covered in blood. When I looked down I panicked when I saw the size of his cock. That’s not normal. No. Get it away from me. “Enough please! Just kill me!” I kicked his chest as he tried to grab my legs. “No! No! Stop! I said stop!” I kicked the Pyramid and he stumbled back. Groaning in pain. I guess I hit a sensitive spot. Of course I did, that heavy thing attached to his body was bound to be sore on his neck and shoulders and I’m sure it could never come off. “Please kill me, I want to see my friends.” I said. I was tired of this. This wasn’t apart of the trails. It was just escape or be killed. Why was he doing this? He shook his head and grunt, coming back towards me. His hands groped my boobs and I gave up. I was too afraid to kill myself and he wasn’t going to do it until after he had his way with me. He pinched my nipples, I whinced in pain and he immediately let go. My legs wrapped around his hips as he pressed his bare cock over my clit. Grinding on me and he played with my breast. He moved his chest closer and the pyramid lightly sat over my head. He grabbed my hand and put it on his chest. My hand touched his body. It was a beautiful body, too bad it was dirty, the scars that was on him made it more beautiful. He moved my hand down to his nipple and I grazed it lightly. Feeling it becoming hard at my touch. I took a deep breath and sat up. He moved back and I used both of my hands to touch him. His cock throbbing at my soft hands. Tracing his veins, the sculpt of his abs, the definition of his arms, appreciating his massive form. He pulled my waist towards his body, the thing I assumed was his tongue came out and licked my cheek. I shivered and let him lick my face. Sucking in my lips when it got too close. His hands held my head gently and he brushed back my untamed hair.

He pushed me back onto the desk and slowly spread my legs. He positioned his cock at my hole and I stared off at a wall. Not wanting to watch him take my virginity. But he wasn’t having that. He turned my head by my chin and made me stare at the nonexistent head that was replaced with an oversized metal cone. He pushed in and my teeth gritted. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I chanted in my head. He was huge, too big for me but he kept forcing himself in. His hips clapped against mine but his cock didn’t even go inside. It slipped up, he spread my legs wider and tried again. He slipped again and let out an irritated gurgle. “I-it won’t fit.” He nodded yes, as if saying ‘yes it will.’ I shut up and let him try again. This time he used his hand to steady himself so his dick wouldn’t move anywhere. The tip slowly moving in, I whinced and cried as the stretched became unbareable. He was spliting me apart, I wasn’t as prepared for this as I hoped I was. His two fingers didn’t even compare. He growled as he moved in further, scratching my thighs and leanig his head back. I watched his dick sink into me and I even saw the outline of his cock through my skin. Blooding dripping down his balls and my ass as he tore my hole. I mentally thanked my parents for giving me my body, I couldn’t imagine being smaller and trying to accommodate to his size. I mean to him I was of course still small but it wasn’t so bad. He let go of my thighs and put his hands beside my torso, clawing the desk, the wood chipped under his nails. I wiggled my hips trying to pleasure myself and he immediately pressed a hand over my hip. I whined when he stopped me. Again he gurgled, why did he keep doing that, I can’t understand him. He stayed still and massaged my body. Soothing the pain from me. He was all the way in, our bodies connected. I suddenly just realized that my heart wasn’t thudding like it would normally if the killer was close. It was quiet. My body eased as if there was no threat. The warmth of his hands caressing my body.

“Please move.” I begged him. Glancing off into the distance before looking back at him. He slowly brought his hips back and slowly pushed back in. I felt my slick gush as he moved, feeling myself getting wetter just from one thrust. He grunted and picked up the pace. “Ahh, please more.” My hand reached out to his chest and he held my hand. Fucking me faster. My eyes rolled back and I bite my bottom lips, smiling to myself as my body was encased in pleasure. He groaned and held my hips as he began to go harder. Pounding away at me like I was some doll, but when i slapped his chest and cried out he slowed down. Rubbing his tongue over my cheek as an apology. I nodded and his tongue licked my nipples. I didn’t feel much at my boobs but knowing that his tongue was there sent shivers down my spine and euphoric shocks through my body. His dick abusing my cervix giving me beautiful pain.

“Mm! Oh fuck! Good! Feels good!” I praised him. His hands tightened at my hips and he bucked harshly but went back to his original pace. “You’re making me feel so good.” I continued to praise him. He let out a gargle that sounded like he was happy. He likes the praises? “Yes! Just like that, right there! Ahh! Yes!” I moaned. He felt amazing. My hand moved down to my clit but he moved it to his shoulder. He put his thumb in my mouth and dragged it over my teeth, gums and tongue. I sucked on it and got another groan from him. He pulled his thumb out and placed it on my clit. Fucking me as he rubbed my sensitive bud. “Oh shit!” I yelled. My eyes squeezed shut as an overwhelming feeling of pleasure hit my body. My insides felt like mush, my pussy felt sore and numb but the way his dick hit my cervix just proved how much my body loved it. The way I moaned, panted and yelled was music to him. My body convulsed under him as I came again. My mouth hung open in a silent cry as I came on his cock. He didn’t stop, he fucked me through it. But he did go faster. The desk moving under us, it was really loud. Pushing the desk towards the wall as he fucked me relentlessly. Rearranging my guts and making me stupid over his dick. I babbled nonsense and my body was numb and weak under him. Using me however he pleased just to get himself off. Making sounds like an animal as he brutalized my pussy. It was overwhelming. Why did I like it? Why was I enjoying it? Please stop. “Don’t stop.” I panted. The fuck was wrong with me? His tongue licked my lips and I opened my mouth letting it in. Tasting blood as he explored my mouth. Using his tongue to fuck my mouth.

He slammed into me. Again and again and again. He was close, his thick cock throbbed inside me and his hips stuttered once. His tongue still down my throat. I moaned over it and sucked on it. His thumb rubbed my clit again and I bucked my hips. It was so sensitive, he made me jump and move. My orgasm built up again. My bladder filling with fluid as I felt my stomach tighten. I choked on his tongue and gasped when he removed it. He pulled out and rubbed my clit faster and I squirted again as he shot his cum over my body. My hole clenched around nothing as I came. I shudder, shook and cried out. I bucked wildly and my eyes crossed. He pressed my hips down to help me relax. I panted and took deep breaths to help me get over my orgasm. When I finally relaxed he scooped his cum on his finger and put it in my mouth. My tongue lapped it up like it was an icicle. Moaning slightly just to please him. He groaned and stroked my cheek. He then left the room. Coming back with his blood stained sword. I dropped to my knees and waited for him kill me. He pulled me up to my feet and pat my head. Just do it! I yelled in my head. He brought the sword up to my neck and slowly sliced my jugular. Gagging on my blood, the pain was unimaginable.

I woke up at camp, my clothes back on and no evidence of what happened on me. “YN! Jesus Christ what took you so long?!” Feng ran over to me. I stayed silent and just curled up into fetal position.

#dead by deadlight #dbd the exicitioner #dbd pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid Head smut #smut #x reader smut

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Bark at the Moon

Summary: Walter always comes to you when he needs a hard release. Tonight he seems to need it more than ever.

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Word count: 2K (WTF it was supposed to be a drabble)

Warnings: 18+, sex, lycanthropy, supernatural themes, no strings attached, vaginal fingering, oral performed on female, primal play (slight biting and scratching), cockwarming, slight denial, angst, fluff and romance.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: Not me naming my AUs after Ozzy Osbourne songs/albums. Following my post from October I am trying to follow up. This one-shot is also inspired by A Company of Wolves and @fishcustardandclintbarton moodboard. Many thanks to my beta and muse and dear friend @agniavateira for all the help.

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🖤

Title: Bark at the Moon

Muddy Timberlands dragged across the worn doormat as the large detective sought to rid himself of the dirt caking his soles. Black and soft, the dark mane of curls hung loosely above his forehead, a pale blue sheen cascading over each ringlet that concealed his face while he kicked his feet like an unruly child.

An instinct within pressed you to reach a wandering hand and entwine your fingers between those healthy locks. But ironically, touching Walter screamed ‘taboo,’ as if he wasn't going to finish wet and messy inside you anyway.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been here.

"Rough evening?" you murmured, taking a long whiff of air. Traces of coffee drifted from his breath, mingling with the brisk November chill that wafted over your face.

It's not that you didn't enjoy his company; it's just that Walter left you with nothing but bitemarks, bruises, and dirty sheets. A foreigner to this country even after all these years, Walter was much like the salty rocks from the islands that bred him: hardened and crude, yet smooth at the edge where the water licked the stone. Some evenings he wouldn't even speak; the moment his boots made it past the doorway, all civilised manners flew out the window, luring the beast to wander. Shredding your outfit, he’d fuck you to tears, shaking you the way a canine carnivore stuns its prey and then unload himself into you until you ached and begged him to stop.

Once stripped off his uniform, the sullen cop was no different than the deviants he shoved behind iron bars. Little did it matter, you loved him enough for the two of you, and though you knew you were a toy to pass the time, he always crawled back to you with that deprived agonised sparkle staining his gaze.

After what seemed like an endless battle between his shoes and the bristly rug, he finally paused and slowly lifted his chin. Marine-blue irises peered below thick brows, and a red rim of weariness perfected his customary scowl.

"Yeah," he drawled with indifference, "got any beer?"

Observing him for a moment, you studied the sharp ridges of his furrowed brow and nodded, turning to let him in. Despite his heavy frame, he followed with lithe stillness, stepping into your house without making a sound while you advanced to the kitchen.

Whatever happened tonight must have left another dent in the coarse material that made this man. You often mused on the things he must have seen and found out it’s better not to ask.

You reached for the fridge when his arm wrapped around your waist by surprise and snatched you back, hauling you flushed against his broad chest. Briefly, he nuzzled your nape, his parted lips huffing hot against your skin. His breath carried the pained melody of a sad longing animal, an ache so great it seeped through the pores of your skin and infected you with his grief.

You weren’t afraid of the beast but felt sorry for it.

“I need to feel you,” Walter rasped, a timbre of plea in his baritone. Palm swiping greedily at your breast and his cock hard and hungry, he ground his hips at the cleft of your ass. Like the black, shaggy dog that he was, he sniffed the air and then rubbed himself further against your jeans, seducing the wanton animal within you to come out of its hiding.

“You want me too, I can smell it, I can smell your cunt.”

Where was the lie?

With a guttural growl, he turned you to face him, skilful hands already making tatters of your clothes and his fangs nipping your throat. Caged in his grasp, you hissed and shuddered out of fear and lust. A part of you was always frightened that one night Walter will pierce an artery by mistake at the heat of the moment whilst another, more archaic urge, called for the sweet passion that was your Thanatos.

Succumbing to both urges, you forced his cable-knit sweater off, exposing his muscular, beefy torso and splaying your hands down his flexing pecs to feel the soft, dark fur that covered his chest and belly. Everything about Walter was large and charged with virility, twisting your moral compass and making any argument weak in his presence. Staring at the bulge in his trousers, you gnawed your bottom lip, giving to the pang of hunger that shot through your clenching core while your wicked fingers began to fumble with the clasp of his belt.

With a low roar rumbling in his chest, he scrutinised you as if this was a trial, his eyes flashing, anticipating you to reach and grab his large cock.

“Fuck…” his sonorous voice caressed your ears. He quickly slid his hand down your trousers, grabbing a handful of your ass before gliding his fingers to feel between your engorged petals.

A tempest of moans unfurled from your clenching throats once you squeezed his shaft in your palm, choking around the veins adorning the meaty girth.

“You are always so wet for me, always so ready,” he uttered and licked your cheek.

“Walter, please!”

At your plea, his fingers slipped deep inside your burning cavern. Back and forth, he probed your little slit, spreading thick wetness across your mound and further up your virginal ass to taunt you.

Before you met Walter you vowed that you’ll never be into that kind of debauchery. But whenever the bulbous crown of his cock accidentally teased your puckered hole, the only thing you could muster to think of was how much you wanted him to fill every empty inch within you.

Long, nimble fingers dug deep, parting your sealed walls asunder in an endeavour to find the small heap of pleasure that regressed you to savagery. You were nothing but an instrument of pleasure, gyrating to the melody he composed by the rhythm of his thrusts, following every note. He made you shudder, made the earth below split in half and all the while, he held back and watched. A sick mist of curiosity hovered over the frigid ocean that was his glance, mindful of how logic and reason drained from your face, leaving you utterly incoherent and primal.

Just as he was.

He crooned at your whimpers and nodded at the desperation dripping from your gaze. Hips swaying, you wriggled against his hand in a frustrated attempt to reach for the tendrils of ecstasy that loomed inches from your grasp.

“You want to come, love?” he asked, almost patronising. His brow lifted, and his eyes flared with what you could only describe as pity.

“Yes! Please! Please make me come!”

His fingers tore from your sleek with a sudden haul, leaving you a trembling, outraged mess. Yet you had no time to curse him for denying your pleasure. Moving faster than your thoughts, Walter stripped your trousers and slammed you rear onto the counter. Kneeling between your spread legs, his strong hands gripped your thighs and dragged your cunt into his bearded jaw.

“Fuck!”

His mouth wrapped around you in a lover’s embrace, his silky tongue plunging between your lips to savour the honeyed nectar that dripped from your tightening core. Thoroughly devouring your cunt, Walter hummed. Raw, unfiltered, and unbound, he laved every inch within as if he was dining at Olympus and feasting on ambrosia for the first time. Arching back, you dared to entangle your fingers in his curls and ride his bristly face until you succumbed to the furious, quaking bliss that spasmed within your womb and consumed you into rapturous euphoria.

Engulfed in a veil of blissful darkness, you continued wailing, heaving, and slumping on the counter. Puny jitters of aftershock trod upon your throbbing flesh while Walter finished his feast with languid laps of his tongue.

Once you blinked your eyes open, Walter stood straight between your legs, now fully naked, peering at you quietly. His eyes were aglow with all the conundrums he could never speak. Still hazy from your ecstasy, you stared back with awe, drinking each taut bulging muscle and worshipping the feral, beastlike entity that he was. Not even the scars on his body could steal away his unspoken pride.

Reaching a hand for his imposing cock, he crept closer and glared straight into your soul as he pressed himself into your tight little entrance. A loud groan thundered through your kitchen as he pushed in, erupting into the most melodic war cry which never failed to astound you once he penetrated you. Still clenched from your orgasm, you gritted your teeth and whimpered in pain, not quite ready to have all of him at once. Yet Walter wasn’t keen on stopping and continued delving deeper and deeper, despite your nails tearing fresh new trails of blood down his shoulders.

“Wait!” you pleaded, yelping when he suddenly bottomed out inside you.

An arduous gasp tore from his lips, and his forehead dropped on your shoulder. Stilling inside you, he breathed in the mien of a wild creature, trying to regain his composure for a brief moment as he timed his assault. Fingers etched below your thighs, he pulled you up with ease and carried you through the apartment whilst still buried inside you.

Confused by his actions, you hung your arms around his thick neck and clung to his body, welcoming the soft brush of his hide against your naked breasts.

Soon, you found yourself on your bed with him seated beneath you while your legs enveloped his wide waist. Nestled between your cinching walls, his cock throbbed full of rage, desperate for the unbridled friction that Walter forbade as he refused to move. Milking every drop of his self-control, he vigorously fought to dominate his desire.

With his shaft pulsating hot and buried completely within your womb, your previous orgasm felt like a distant dream and a fresh new need soon awoke, begging your body to writhe on top of him and take what you were promised by force. But Walter was in no rush to unmake any part of you just yet. Securing one arm around the small of your back while the other held your jaw, he made you stare directly into his eyes.

Bare more than ever, he allowed you to glimpse through the cracks that creased his beautiful blue eyes, showing you the pure terror harbouring the heart of darkness that lived within him.

Perhaps, a part of him desired you to break and cast him away from you, to say ‘nevermore.’

Mercy softened your face instead.

Enamoured and embroiled with curiosity, you allowed yourself to roam freely, gliding both your eyes and fingertips to descend the delectable plains of his body. Tender and careful, you stroked a soothing touch over the elevated scar tissue the way one pets a wounded creature, your gentle caress painting over the large claw mark that marked him years ago and left him cursed.

Walter followed the movement of your hand. His chest sinking with a low roar, his cock twitched and swelled inside your protesting canal while he remained immobilised and kept himself sheltered in the warmth of your sanctuary.

“Last night,” he finally spoke, his voice soft yet drenched with hesitation while his eyes dropped to stare into nothing for a shy moment. “Last night, when I turned... I… killed someone…”

Your heart clenched in anguish along with the seams of your cunt. All the hurt that flowed in Walter’s blood now mingled into yours, ascending your body from the spot where you were coupled.

What you wanted most of all was not to run. No. You desired to suck the poison tainting his veins and swallow it instead, unable to bring yourself to do anything but love him more than you did earlier.

Spreading your legs further to each side of his hips, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him. Nails biting into his muscular back you clutched him tightly, making a firm statement of your unwillingness to spite him for his actions.

Because, even a beast needs to be protected and cared for.

* Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall * Dividers by @firefly-graphics

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #walter marshall #Werewolf!Henry Cavill #night hunter #walter marshall x reader

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

In which Shoto is an asshole Oni and I am the author that wrote the majority of this fic tipsy, you’re welcome! Bnharemcollab masterlist found here

Warnings: Non con bruv. Claws horns? He's an oni bud

"And they say he's been stealing the hearts of beautiful women for centuries. So don't go talking to any ole handsome man that steps over a threshold." The tour guide adds to the end of her ridiculous story about some Demon King that drags women to hell before she leads the group onto the next painting.

Still there was something captivating about the art work, how the man has his back to the viewer and how women bow to him, foreheads pressed into the tatami mats with their own bleeding hearts held high over their heads. Blood drips from their hands, splattering on the mats like rain or tear drops. The man, who is assumed to be the Oni, is looking over his shoulder, hand reaching out for the nearest offering. Both figures are forever suspended in brush strokes and desire for more. The closer you inspect the other worldly looking figure the more your gut tightens. His elaborate kimono hangs loosely from his body but you can still see the broadness of his shoulders, the thick bands of muscle on his forearms, the apparition of elongated nails when you look closer and finally the faint strokes atop of his two toned hair that are in the shape of sharp horns.

A God among men or maybe you should say a Devil among friends. A sigh escapes you as you admire the work before the tour guide announces the title, artist and time period of the next piece. “Wrath of the Mountain God.” A large man, with long hair so deep in hue you first mistake it for black, stands in a Kimono. His chest on display as he stands giving the view his profile, his eyes glow red in the light of the full moon, in his arms seems to be a maiden, a flower crown falling from her hair. It looks as if his strong form had just taken a step, beneath his foot begins a nasty fissure that gapes the Earth for miles and miles. The painting feels charged and emotions practically drip from the ink painting and yet still your eyes flicker to the painting to it’s right. At this angle you can see a faint shimmer in his smoky quartz colored eye. It sends a shiver down your spine as you feel a faint breath on the nape of your neck. Quickly you turn your head, craning your neck to look over your shoulder but no one stands behind you. Just another painting, “Golden God of Destruction.” Red gaze glowering as his hair drips gold, while he walks over the hellish landscape of cooling and erupting lava. You swallow thickly before following the tour guide onto the next section.

The tour lasts another half an hour but your mind lingers on the shimmering eyes of the dangerous entity. The more you think of him the bigger the sinking feeling in your gut becomes, not to mention the more you feel as if something is stalking your every move. Another quick glance over your shoulder as you exit the museum while you ponder over why this particular Oni was handsome when all of the other artworks featuring a yokai or oni were depicted as ugly, grotesque even.

Maybe it was because he was the King? You couldn’t be sure, all you knew is that you could understand why the women would rip out their hearts and offer them up to him. He was hot as hell, no pun intended.

Suddenly the fall air smells of frost and the threat of snow, you wrinkle your nose before you jump out of your skin. .

"So you liked the "Oni King, stealer of heart’s'' piece best?" A smooth voice calls from behind you, you press your hand over your rapidly beating heart as you try to catch your breath. Startled, you turn around to see a handsome man opening the gate, stepping over the grass line onto the sidewalk. Instantly you feel heat rush you as a cool autumn breeze swirls around fallen leaves around your boots.

"How did you…"

"I come here often and no one has ever stopped and looked at that piece as long as you have." He seems stoic and you can just barely see the corner of his mouth lift up. You take a moment to really drink him in, his tall stature, his hair a shocking white with contrasting red and a scar that sits beautifully over one of his gem stone eyes. One a smoky quartz and the other a bright turquoise.

You swallow thickly as you stare at the other worldly man, finding little to no words as your heart beats into your ribcage. You grip at the fabric of your jacket over your heart, it pounds against your rib cage like a fluttering wild bird.

"Where are my manners? I am Todoroki Shoto. But you can call me Shoto." Again he offers his barely there smile, "And you are?"

It's laughable how you stumble over your own name, you have never had issues talking to attractive people before, what the hell was your problem now.

“It sounds lovely.” He says your name, it rolls off of his tongue like music makes you swallow thickly, your knees threatening to buckle and you can’t understand why you’re acting like a love struck teenager again. There is a contrasting air about him, just like his hair. Passion and reservation, raging power and quiet tranquility, and the feel of it is making you dizzy. Tipsy almost, drunk if you linger here too long. Just as you’re about to express how you’ll be late for dinner he smiles at you.

Fully this time.

And you think your heart was going to claw out of its calcium coffin but it stalls when you notice that it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Well since you have a good appreciation of art, would you care to join me in the garden, the Chrysanthemum are in full bloom this time of year.” You swallow as you look at him, a twinge of fear lingering in your blood that is soon lost as he steps over the threshold of the garden, waiting patiently.

“Uh, yea I think I can spare some time.” You smile nervously, he offers out his hand.

“Be careful, the step down can be quite steep.” A genuine small form on your lips now as you remember the first time you set foot into this garden and almost twisted your ankle. You step over the threshold, blinking against the late afternoon sun as you do.

Except when you open your eyes once more, you are no longer in the garden. There are no shrubs and bushes, no cinderblock wall of the old museum, something more sinister stands in its place. The sky is an inky black, the full moon hangs overhead shining down onto a small village that thickens the closer it gets towards a large feudal era looking castle. Fading sunlight filter behind you as you whip your head behind you. A giant Torri stands where the aging fence and garden gate stood before, a hazy image of an autumn afternoon in the shape of the gate rapidly begins to shrink. Panicked you lunge arm outstretched as if catching a full elevator as you’re running behind for a very important meeting.

If only your paralyzing panic was over something so trivial.

A strong set of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards a chiseled chest as hot breath whispers cooly in your ear.

“I wouldn’t do that if you want to keep all of your limbs, love.”

Shaking you glance over your shoulder before you watch the portal to home close up.

Just like that the landscape that could be seen through the gate was endless night and rolling hills dotted with homes here and there. When you turn to face your captor his eyes narrow as he studies you. His gem stone eyes glittering in the rich moonlight, following your hands up to your chest. He stills as he listens and while he looks you notice the horns growing from his head. Thin and shaped into a deadly point. He tilts his head as if you are bewitching before he leans closer, capturing your hair between his fingers. Now that you were in the moonlight, in the realm he ruled, you looked...familiar and the feeling made his chest tighten.

“How does your heart feel?” He asks, eyes anywhere but yours. You try to jerk out of his touch but his warm hand wraps around your bicep keeping you well within arms reach.

“My heart?! What does that have to do with me standing in HELL!” You scream and it echoes across the chilled landscape. Some women in kimono pass by, keeping their eyes turned down as they pass but once they are a few steps behind this brute’s back, they send you withering glares.

Your attention comes fully back to the man in front of you, or maybe you should say demon. He presses his hand over your heart with a puzzling look. Your body heats from the contact and embarrassment, you were sure he could feel how hard your heart was pounding. All the while his brows knit upwards.

“Seems you aren’t affected…”He murmurs to himself, tonguing his cheek. Suddenly he tears your sweater, pressing his hand against your chest and part of your breast.

“Hey!” You protest until a burning sensation blooms on your skin, when he pulls away you see kanji puckering up, that reads “Shoto”

“That should keep the lower demons away...for now.” He grabs onto your wrist tightly, too tightly before your world bends and blurs. Folding in on itself as if Space and Time were suddenly a beautiful origami paper creased until the maker was satisfied.

The world is bright when you open your eyes next, cradled in an abundance of candle light as your stomach sours causing you to lurch.

“Ugh, not on the tatami!” A woman’s voice scolds, but her state doesn’t help the nausea that hits you in waves. She wears a beautiful kimono, embroidered with gold and silver thread on violet cloth, the chest stained a deep cherry and a hole is where her heart should be. Her hands stained blood red and you back up, panting as you try to keep a level head.

“Get her cleaned up.” Shoto snaps, “I will want her in my room promptly.”

The women in the room shake slightly, keeping their heads down, distantly you can hear the sound of a thousand thundering hearts, deafening in a sense. The stately woman gently guides you towards the bath in the large mansion, shock sets in as your gaze glazes over. Every hall has a woman, anywhere from the feudal era to today, all dressed in kimonos, most were dressed in the ones they obviously died in or dressed in old clothes with their tattoos and fresh wounds peeking out from beneath the fabric.

Every single person sends you a death glare.

You’re stripped of your clothes and dignity in the company of about twenty women, hands shove you into the steaming water, cupping the cloudy water to wash your skin.

No matter how often the woman dip their hands into the water, the blood never leaves their fingertips, forever stained in their sin.

“We gave them away, you know. Ripped them from our chests….” She looks up at you with a timid look.

“Kiyoko, hush.” An elder hisses as she straightens the thin piece of cloth you were going to wear once you were all pieced together.

“No, she deserves to know..” Kiyoko hisses back, “The story is similar for a lot of us, he appears in a doorway, he seems kind enough, and then we look into his eyes. Gazing too deeply before our hearts seize in our chests, flopping around as if behind your flesh was killing it and it should sit in the palm of his hand. The only logical thing was for us to reach deep inside of ourself and give him what he deserved.” A quite falls over the room before a heavy solem air settles on your shoulders.

“He stopped for a while….after he met you.” Your eyes flash to hers and the elder’s hand wraps into Kiyoko’s hair, pulling her away from you.

“Enough.” She snarls as tears run down her cheeks, down all the women’s cheeks and you swallow thickly.

After an hour of primping you find yourself in front of two sliding tatami doors that have Oni and other yokai decorating their sheets.

“Send her in.” A deep voice sounds from the other side.

“Yes master.” The women answer, opening the doors before one shoves you in.

Doors to the eqwaa are open as he lounges on the polished wood, staring at the moon. He turns his head to look over his shoulder and it eerily reminds you of the painting in the museum.

In an instant he is in front of you, backing you into the plush bed that sat in the middle of his room, you fall onto the raised futon looking up at him.

The lowlight plays tricks on your eyes, the square paper lantern and the moon painting him in strokes of kind, of hurt, not some beastly thing he obviously was. Even his horns seemed soft, but nothing was softer than his lips as he pressed them to yours. Embarrassingly ecstasy blossoms under your eyelids as liquid heat floods your core. His tongue probes yours as he leans over top of you, playing with you nipples through the thin cloth as you moan into his mouth. Your body arches into his his as your heart flutters, trying to pull you away from his addicting touch.

Maybe you could have gotten away, maybe….

If only his hand hadn’t slipped between your thighs where he teased your sex utnil you pruned his figners, singing like the song bird he knew you were. His hard cock presses against your thigh twitching with delight. He kisses down your throat before he shreds the thin white kimono away from your body. He groans audibly before he leans down, one finger pulling at your pebbled nipple while the other pulls it between his teeth.

“Shoto…”You cry and he moans into your supple skin. Taking off his own thin kimono to align himself up to your fluttering hole. Eyes glued to your heart, fingers tracing the kanji as he eases himself in inch by inch. Stretching you and filling you pleasantly. He sits for a moment, taking in your body and how you burn under his touch. Free hand roaming your body as the other prods your fresh burn. Tracing the strokes over and over as if he wrote it himself.

Well technically he did.

“Please.” Your mouth betrays, hips pressing up into his to get any sort of friction, his free hand comes down, slamming your hips into the bed.

“Say it again.” He huffs, “Say my name again.”

“Shoto.” It's a hushed, reluctant breath but your skin was icy hot, lifeforce feeling as if it were evaporating away from the heated tension that sat between you two. He watches your body wither, feels your cunt clamping down onto him desperately and it’s all he can do not to thrust into you widely.

“Again.” He barks, pulling at your nipple harshly.

“Shoto.” You moan, the sound is enough to make him start his harsh pace. Pelvis slamming into yours as his tuft of pubic hair glides across your clit. Your vision blurs with tears, it feels so good. Better than anything you’ve ever had or could ever remember as his claws ghost over your soft skin.

“You thought you could escape me.” He grunts, ramming himself into you harder, you moan in response, “I marked more than your flesh two hundred years ago, I marked your soul.”

“You couldn’t help yourself, coming back to the very piece of art you created.” He continues with a laugh, claws raking down your skin, slicing at your skin superficially. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you cannot fathom what he’s said. All that there is the feel of his hands, the pleasure that threatens to snap in your stomach.

He watches the way your cunt coats his cock in a silvery sheen that has his lips parting. Taking wanton ruts, the motion of it rattling the art on the wall. Pieces fall around you and any of the scrolls that try to block his view of you get shredded mid air. His thrusts turn sloppy as he comes down to bite at your neck.

“Shoto!” You cry out, vision going black as your body convulses around him, eyes rolling in to the back of your head as you forget your name and only cry out his.

“That’s right, tell me who you belong to. Who owns you love.” He pants, holding his own release for a moment longer just to hear your sweet voice scream his name over and over. Finally your milking cunt sends him over the edge. He grunts, staring into your eyes as he paints your wall a creamy white.

“Mine.” He growls, biting at your breast, at the skin over your heart. You feel his spilling cock harden again as your body melts into the sheets.

Most of the night is spent in mind numbing ecstasy and in those few short hours you forget you were ever brought here unwillingly.

You sit on a throne, overlooking the vast landscape of Yomi, Oni running the underworld as heartless women wander the streets. Their mortal heartbeats keeping time as they ceaselessly beat just beneath your feet. Mind’s eye miles away as you see a ghost of a hand before you. Memory playing out as you take careful brush strokes against your canvas, hoping this would serve as a warning for other women as you dab the brush in the deep colored liquid that stains the tatami floor of your home.

Ever the artist you wanted to add final touches even as you drew your final breaths, having thought it better to take your own life than to sit at the right hand of a demon, your chest was already mutilated with his name.

Irony weighs heavy in your stomach as you realize how futile it was to even make that masterpiece. It did not serve as a warning.

No if anything, it served as a beacon, drawing you like a moth to flame until you circled to close.

Burning up in the flames of the very thing you admired.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #oni shoto x reader #tw: non con #twnoncon

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Morning In Bed (Naga x Reader)

Pairing: Trans Male!Reader/Male!Naga

Genre: Fantasy, Domestic, Fluff,

Warnings: 18+ Content up ahead! Impregnation, Oviposition, slight Breeding Kink,

Word Count: 1549 words

Summary: You spend another relaxing morning bed with your husband, with a couple of (welcome) surprises along the way

Request: Hey! I'd love to see something nsfw between a naga and a trans male reader. Could you write about the reader getting impregnated, and/or the actual egg laying process if that's not too much.

When you first built your house with your husband, Venthr, he had two requests:

One, for your bedroom to have a wall facing the West, right next to the side of your California King Mattress. Two, that there be a large window on that same wall, to allow the morning rays to heat up your bed and act like a giant sun lamp when you both wake up. You had agreed readily, because even though you loved cuddling with your husband, his cold-blood always had you layering on pajama pants and cozy socks, prepared for a cold compress pressed to your side the whole night.

The sun feels especially nice this morning, with Venthr’s tail wrapped around your legs, shoving away the warmth of your duvet and focusing solely on feeling up your lower half. You crack one eye open as Venthr lays hot kisses on your neck, his claws slightly grazing your hip as he massages it from behind.

“Well, look who's become a morning person.” Your murmur, face still half shoved into a pillow. From the corner of your eye you can see Venthr smile, his long fangs peeking out from between his lips, which he then wets with a long swipe of his tongue.

“It’s pretty easy with you pressed up next to me.” Venthr whispers, pressing another steaming kiss to your neck, his tail slightly constricting as his chilled piercings send goosebumps across your neck. You giggle as Venthr nips at a particularly sensitive spot, reaching your hand back to tangle in his messy red hair. It hangs loose from his scrunchie, long strands framing his face and falling over his shoulders.

Venthr cuddles even closer to your body, soaking up your body heat and nudging your backside with his-

“Speaking of morning.” You wiggle your eyebrows, Venthr chuckling and rolling his eyes. He’s acting pretty smarmy for a man whose dick is pressed right up against your ass. “What, is my drool that irresistible?”

“Would it be weird or romantic if I said yes?”

“Depends on your tone of voice, I suppose.”

You contort your shoulders so you can kiss Venthr on the lips, a breathy sigh escaping you as he begins to slowly rut against your backside. His cock, unsheathed, lays hot on your low back, the tip of his tail rubbing your ankles as he leans deeper into the kiss.

In between fervent kisses, Venthr whispers, “Do you want to try this morning?”

You nod, Venthr’s affection stirring a tingling current up your body and down into your toes as he grinds even harder.

“Y-yeah, yeah I would.”

Venthr doesn’t bother responding with a snarky remark, not about how easily you become putty his hand or how maybe the both of you are now morning people; He just trails his long claws up your hips and your stomach, crawling under your pajama t-shirt and pulling it up as he goes.

The two of you had been considering having a child and had only recently started trying for one; Or, with his biology, a couple. While you two had no problems being ‘motivated’, so to speak, it had been more difficult for his eggs to take to your human biology. His cum would usually leak out of you without any of his eggs properly latching inside. The process was a little messy, but nothing some high grade bleach and plenty of sheets couldn’t handle.

You sigh as Venthr returns to his passionate sucking on your neck, his claws flicking over your nipples as he slowly spreads your legs with his tail. The smooth muscles massage your lower body as the contort and force you open, his cock finding it’s place in between your thighs.

“Gods, I love those noises you make baby.” Venthr all but groans into your ear, fingers finding purchase on your chest and twisting your nipples. You shove your face into your pillow, somehow still embarrassed by your own grunts and moans as your husband fondles you. Venthr’s chuckle vibrates against your neck as his left hand leaves your chest and moves towards your bedside cabinet. He hastily pulls open a drawer and takes out the lube, spreading it over his fingers for you to see. “I’ll get you prepped, but from what I can feel down here,” he punctuates with a hump against you, rubbing his slick cock against your juices, “I don’t think you’ll need much.”

You playfully hit his shoulder, but your muscles tingle from the pleasure and make the impact a love-tap at best. Venthr laughs again, relishing in your sounds of pleasure as he slowly walks his hand down your body. The cold lube smearing against your navel sending goosebumps all over your body.

“Y-you’re wasting t-the expensive kind, babe.”

“All for you, sweet cheeks.”

Venthr’s long fingers finally reach your crotch, spreading you open and playing with your sensitive spot before inserting two of his fingers. Your breath catches in your throat and Venthr takes the opportunity to smother you in a french kiss, fingers increasing their pace. You can taste the metal of his tongue piercing, gasping around his own moans as he finds that particular spot within you. The callouses of his palms put perfect pressure on your insides, the bottom of his palm spaying special attention to your crotch.

You feel the familiar climbing sensation of an orgasm ripple through your abdomen after a couple minutes, causing you to pat Venthr’s arm and breathily whine his name. Venthr pulls his fingers out of you with an audible slick.

“You think you’re ready? Ready to take me, all of me?”

You nod against Venthr’s neck, mind in a pleasured haze, tugging on his tail to bring his cock even closer. Venthr kisses your pulse point. “Alright, just let me know if you need to stop, okay?”

Venthr’s tail slowly shifts apart your legs even farther, the tick of his cock brushing against your entrance as he adjusts his upper half. His hand, now covered in your cum and some lube, lovingly brushes against your abdomen. With a final kiss, Venthr begins to slowly insert himself into you.

You hold your breath as Venthr’s swollen cock fills you out, the cold base of scales bumping against your backside as he bottoms out. A rumbling moan comes from his chest when he feels the way you clench around him. Venthr continues to massage your hips and begins to increase his pace once he feels your muscles relaxing. The two of you let out a series of low grunts and sighs as the tip of his dick pressures against that sensitive spot inside you. Venthr shoves his face in the crook of your shoulder, whispering a ‘fuck’ as a trail of drool begins to pool out of his mouth.

“You’re going to be-” Grunt ‘-such a good fucking dad.” Ungh “I can’t wait to see you, filled to the brim, petting your stomach.” Aah “Chaperoning those dorky school trips, going to overpriced amusement parks.” Fuck.

With your husband’s cock pounding you into oblivion, you barely have the mental capacity to comment on his dirty talk, your responses limited to slurred ‘uh-huh’s and yelps. Venthr’s tail struggles to keep their grip on your sweaty legs, desperately wrapping tighter and tighter as your bed begins to shake with the power of his thrusts. The bedsprings squeal as he grabs the top of the headboard, holding up his upper body so he can fuck you even harder. Your fingers clench around the bed sheets, knuckles white while Venthr’s movements become sloppier and sloppier, the returning feeling of climax bubbling up in your core.

“You’re gonna look so handsome with my eggs inside you, baby. I know it, fuck!” You throw your right calf around Venthr’s tail, pushing him even deeper inside of you as your pleasure climbs to higher and higher heights, moving your own hips in tandem with your husbands. Both your moan’s raise in pitch, your bed frame slamming against the wall with cacophonous bangs. Venthr’s sharp nails comb through your hair as presses a sloppy kiss to your forehead, more of his saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your face.“Fuck, fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming baby, I’m gonna-”

Your orgasm rocks your body, aftershocks shaking your very bones as Venthr’s thick, gelatinous sperm fills you up. The globes of unfertilized eggs push past your cervix and send another wave of trembling shivers down your spine, forcing your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

The two of you stay in that final position for a couple of seconds, Venthr’s dick pushing and holding his eggs inside you as your eyes slowly come back into focus. Venthr’s heart beats quickly, the vibrations pulsing against your back as his tail muscles stay constricted around your legs, holding them in your breeding position. But once the endorphins run out and your muscles begin to ache, the two of you collapse into a sweaty, cuddly pile.

The silence lingers even as your reason returns from post-sex euphoria, Venthr absentmindedly petting your rib cage and caressing your thighs.

“You know, I think my dirty talk made all the difference.”

You smack Venthr’s hand, playful and weak. Venthr laughs.

Just another morning in bed with your husband.

#monster romance #monster x reader #monster/human #monster/reader #my writing #naga #naga x reader #trans male reader #reader insert

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sableseb · 3 years

Text

Dirty Disco

Harry Styles x f!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smut, rough & quick, choking, grinding, slight name calling, use of drugs, slight peer pressure

tags: @meetmeatyourworst @greeneyedblondie44

a/n: This is a request that wanted a story based off the photo below! To the person who wanted this, I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it.x

The club is in full swing. Hot, sweaty bodies pressed against one another, music vibrating the dance floor, and couples occupying each darkened corner. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than right here. You craved a night out. And what better place to go than one of the most elite nightclubs in New York?

You squeeze your way into the mass of people to join in on the sleazy dance floor behavior. You let the music take over your movements. Hips winding against a man’s, chest pressed against a woman’s and completely lost in the feeling of the erotic nature of being between two people in such a compromising way.

Suddenly, you couldn’t feel anyone against you. Until, two hands pull you in close from behind to rub himself to the beat against you. You had it in mind to turn around and tell this asshole he couldn’t just touch you as he pleased and maybe even smack him for good measure. But, all those thoughts left as soon as they entered when you meet a pair of eyes that are the prettiest shade of green you’ve seen, complemented by the mop of brown hair.

You find yourself wanting to be smacked by him. He chuckles at the way your mouth is slightly agape, obviously expecting to see an ugly weirdo with grimy hands. Instead, you got the most handsome weirdo with grimy hands. And that made all the difference. You get your mind straight and turn back around letting him guide you against him.

You grind against one another to the music shaking the walls. The smooth material of his pants feels good against your heated skin. He’s taking his time with you, moving your ass against his hard on he got when he first laid his eyes on you in that mini skirt and shirt that’s barely keeping your chest concealed.

Grasping the hem of your skirt, you lift it up a bit and bend over to give him a glance of your perfectly plump ass straining against the black mesh. You gasp as his hands move from your hips to palm the firm flesh. You wanted to feel those rings everywhere. The cool metal excites you even more.

After letting him have his fun for a moment, you straighten back up to lace your fingers through his thick hair and pull him against your neck, backside still moving along with his front. You feel the hot puffs of air he’s emitting and it sends shivers down your spine, straight to your aching heat. His hands wander up your torso to rub and grab at your chest causing you to arch forward in his grasp.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?”

His voice catches you off guard for a moment. His accent is thick, annunciations as slow as honey dripping from the comb.

“Looking for an escape is all.” you reply next to his mouth, trying to catch a taste of him.

He spins you forward and leans in close to your ear, lips grazing the shell of yours as he says, “I can help with that if you're interested.”

If he didn’t catch your attention before, he surely has it now. He’s tall and lean, clad in a tight vest that showcases his firm chest with a cross resting upon it. Tattoos splattered all along his tan skin. This man is trouble. Lucky for you, trouble is exactly what you’re looking for.

“How can you help?” you question with a glint in your eyes.

He smirks and takes your hand to lead you away from the dance floor. The music is but a low vibration in the back room you find yourself in with a man who’s name you don’t know. You don’t want to know it, you’re not here for formalities and neither is he.

It’s dark with hues of red from the low lighting. The leather couch looks expensive...and so does the glass table with bags of illegal substances littered across it. Now you’re nervous. You’ve never done any sort of drug. But, the man pulling you along and whispering lowly in your ear, “It’ll be fun. I got you.” is very persuasive. Especially, when he looks so appealing.

He places you next to him on the couch, the leather sticking uncomfortably to your heated thighs. You watch as those long fingers reach for a bag with little white squares in them. He digs one out and places it upon his tongue, he leans in to you, waiting for you to get the hint and take the tab from his mouth.

You’re hesitant, but that mouth is calling to you. You tangle your tongue with his, slowly kissing him in the process. He grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His taste is addicting. Alcohol mixed with something sweet, you almost forgot you took the acid...almost. You pull away with worry etched in your features.

He takes notice and chuckles. “Such a good girl for me, you know that?” He takes another tab for himself and downs it. It’s always exciting to share this experience with another. It’s really exciting though, when his companion is a figure from a wet dream.

You can feel your body loosen and mind clear, your present and not all there at the same time. The man to your left closes in on you. His smell hits you harder than before, dark and musky with a hint of something floral. You pull him against you, leaning back so he can cage your body with his.

He looks at you thoroughly this time. The way your eyes have already dilated, the way your chest is begging to be released from that ridiculously tight shirt, and especially the way you lick your lips, almost like you’re tempting him to ruin you. And you were doing just that, tempting.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuinely curious. He would hate to have to rush you to the hospital.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush against you. He lets out a groan from the abrupt contact of your center against his front. Pulling his head down to meet yours, you whisper against his lips, “I’d feel better if you were inside me.”

He’s caught off guard for a moment, not expecting you to be that brazen. Drugs can work wonders on a person’s mind. Who is he to deny your request? He couldn’t even if he tried, not when you have him pressed so firmly against you and you start rocking against him.

The moan he lets past his lips is a sound that makes you wetter. The need for this stranger is so great that you don’t even care about the foreplay. You need him inside you now. He picks up on your urgency and makes quick work of his tailored pants. He releases himself from the confines of his underwear as you kick yours off your heeled feet.

He pushes the tight fabric of your skirt up past your hips. His eyes feast on how wet you are for him. Your arousal is already pooling against the leather of the couch.

“Please.” you beg. “Just fuck me.”

He pushes his dick against you, using your wetness to cover his shaft for an easy in. The sensation of him finally pushing in has you seeing colors. You aren’t sure if it’s the drugs or how good he fills you up. But whatever it is, you want more.

Seeing you whimper and writhe underneath him unlocks the primal urge to have you brain dead for his cock. He picks up his pace, your chest bouncing with each snap of his hips. He can’t stand not seeing your bare flesh moving freely, so he rips your shirt down the middle.

You gasp at his roughness. Before you could let out a whiny, “Hey,” he latches onto your breast. Licking and biting while his hand preoccupies the other. Grabbing and pinching till you didn’t know what to focus on, him pounding into you with no abandon or the way his wet, hot mouth and calloused hands are working wonders on your sensitive nipples.

“So responsive.” he groans between the valley of your breasts. “What? Nobody ever fuck you this good?”

The blood rushes to your face. His words egging on your inevitable climax. You’re speechless as he keeps hitting that spot inside you that has your abdomen flexing and toes curling. The only sounds coming from you are the high pitched moans he’s pulling from you.

He doesn’t like how loud you’ve gotten. His hand flies up to your throat. The rings feel nice against your heated pulse. Until he starts squeezing. Your eyes go wide and your sounds seize, but your cunt latches down on him harder than before.

“My pretty girl likes being choked? That’s right. Take it you fucking slut.” he says through clenched teeth.

And take it you do. His pelvis keeps kissing your bundle of nerves as you buck up towards him. His other hand that’s not restricting your breathing finds your clit, giving you even more pleasure than before. The warm feeling creeping up your neck, the way your ears ring, you know you’re cumming as your legs tremble around the man between them.

He let’s go of your throat in time for you to let a scream of pleasure escape. Your orgasm triggers his own and he’s fucking you deep into the couch to get as close as possible to you. He has to prop himself up on his hands so he doesn’t crush you as his high washes over him.

You both lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the euphoria from the sex and drugs. He pulls out of you and helps you into your panties. As you stand, you can feel his spent pool in the fabric. Making you horny all over again.

“Round two at my place?” the words leave your mouth before you even process them. You just want this man in every position possible. A grin makes its way upon his features. He places his hand in yours to help you through the club and out into the cool night air.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

The Forbidden Fruit {medieval priest!Kylo Ren x Reader}

anonymous:

Priest!Kylo + tavern + visiting his known mistress

author’s notes: hello, hello! ooo, priest!Kylo is a dirty man and I am very much here for it ;) thanks for the request! (post-writing note: this got waay longer than I originally intended lol)

warnings: a touch of fluff. smut. general filth. the incorrect use of the Adam and Eve bible story. oral sex (f receiving). a bit of religion-infused coercion. innocence kink if you really squint. hints of praise kink. virginity loss.

tw’s: extramarital affair/sex (as was common in medieval times). (!!) dubcon (!!) **please let me know if I missed any warnings and/or tw’s!!**

word count: 1.8k

kylo’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie

[NOT my edit. full credit goes to sacklers_sack on Twitter]

Father Kylo walks into the Adam and Eve Tavern and steps up to the bar, ordering a mug of frothy golden brew. He takes a sip as he walks over to his usual corner table, fingers fiddling with the ring around his thick finger.

Even though his wife already knows of his affair, he still feels a small twinge of guilt whenever he lies to her about his whereabouts. It’s a very slight feeling of remorse, though, considering the fact that she’s one of Satan’s disciples.

You walk in only minutes later, flipping the hood of your cloak off the top of your head. He looks over at smiles at the sight of you, admiring your pure and raw beauty. He’s almost sure you’re some sort of angel in disguise, too beautiful and pure to be anything less. Gods, he wants nothing more than to wreck you, split you in half with his cock.

“Hello, angel.” He purrs as you walk over and sit down at the table with him, eyes lingering on your bosom, which is accentuated greatly in this particular gown. “I am glad to see your beautiful face this eve.”

Your lips curl up into a small smirk. “No need for such flattery, Father. We both know why you summoned me here.”

“I’ve always loved how you get right down to business.” Kylo chuckles devilishly. “There are a series of rooms upstairs, the very reason I chose this particular establishment to conduct our...meeting. Step into the last one down the hall and strip bare, lay down on the bed. I will join you in a moment.”

Nodding, you stand and make your way up to the room, swaying your hips a bit extra for the Father. He smirks when he notices this, taking another sip of his beer as he feels his length twitch to life ‘neath his robes.

He waits a few minutes, finishing the mug of beer and leaving behind a tip for the barkeep before walking up to the room he’s reserved for the night. When he walks in, the sight of your nude body illuminated by the warm orange glow of the crackling fire greets him. Gods, is there a better sight to behold than this one?

Your chest rises and falls gently, rhythmically, breasts rising and falling along with your steady breathing. He’s hypnotized, momentarily, drinking in the angelic beauty that lays across the bedsheets.

His robes are swiftly removed and draped over one of the chairs, leaving him in only his undergarments. He points to your legs with his pointer and middle fingers, silently indicating that he’d like you to spread them. You do.

“Tell me, angel. Have you heard the Biblical tale of Adam and Eve?”

You shake your head, biting down on your lip when he takes a step forward towards the bed. “No, Father, I have not.”

He smirks, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. Remnants of his hot breath tease your bare skin, causing you to shudder.

“Adam and Eve were the first human beings created by God, and they inhabited in the Garden of Eden. They were given allowed to use or consume any of the other plants in the Garden, but they were told not to eat any of the forbidden fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.”

You gasp when his hands suddenly seize your ankles and pull you to the end of the bed.

“But,” The Father sinks to his knees, never breaking eye contact. “They failed to resist the temptation. The fruit...”

He pushes your legs as far apart as they can go, then lightly traces your glistening slit with his fingertips. Your breath hitches in your throat at his featherlight touch on your center.

Your eyes widen when his nose nudges your outer lips and he takes a long, slow inhale of your natural scent. He shudders, groaning under his breath before his tongue suddenly licks an agonizingly slow stripe up your cunt.

“The forbidden fruit was just too sweet.” Kylo says, licking his lips with a small smirk at the corners of his mouth. “It was so tender, so juicy; it just felt too right to be wrong, too delicious to be sin.”

You can’t stop the desperate whimper that escapes between your parted lips, insides clenching desperately against themselves. He notices the way your hole puckers, and his smirk grows a bit wider.

His mouth opens, then, and he encapsulates your entire core in a sloppy kiss. Your back arches and you gasp loudly, head pressing back against the pillows. The coarse hairs of his beard scratch your skin in the most delightfully pleasurable way, only adding to the sensations he’s creating with his mouth.

“F-Father--ohh!” Your feet plant and your hips lift up off the bed. “Oh gods, mmmm!”

He begins moving with more aggression, passionately slurping up each and every drop of the sweet nectar that leaks from your cunt. His assault doesn’t let up, not until his efforts bring you to the ultimate high.

“Father! F-Father, oh Christ!” You shriek softly, legs quaking as you hit your peak with an Earth-shattering intensity.

Kylo pulls away shortly after you’ve ridden out your high and he’s consumed every single drop of your sinful sweetness, upper lip and beard glistening with your release. He practically rips his undergarments off and wraps a large, veiny hand around the base.

“Lay up at the head of the bed, now. I shall claim your innocence tonight, angel.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up, chewing on your now-tender bottom lip. “I d-don’t know...”

The Father shakes his head, quickly pinning you to the bed, caging you with his large body. You watch his silver Holy Cross necklace shimmer in the dim light, reminding you that he is a man of God and that he would never ask anything of you that he didn’t think you were ready for.

“Do not fear it, my child; why would His Holiness grant us the bodies we posses, ones that can bring such pleasures, if we aren’t intended to use them? Trust me, angel, all will be alright.”

You’re not much of a religious woman, but he makes a reasonable argument...

“O-Okay.”

He smiles, reaching down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “I will go slowly for you. It may hurt at first, but I promise it will get better.”

You nod. “I trust you, Father.”

His tip swipes all through your slick before settling at your entrance, ready to push in. He holds your cheeks, looking deep into your eyes.

“Are you ready, my angel?”

As soon as you nod, his pelvis pushes forward and his length pushes through your unstretched walls. You cry out, tears instantly burning your eyes as they instantly begin to collect in the corners.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, he remains still, jaw clenched so tight you’re worried he’ll crack his teeth should he clench any tighter. It’s taking every single ounce of his willpower not to fuck you raw, but he knows what he must take care of you this eve. There will be plenty of time for all of that in the future.

“You’re doing sssso well, angel. Taking me so well.”

His words of encouragement, his mutters of of praise reassure you that this was a good choice. You’ve never felt so stuffed in your entire life, not even after holiday feasts and the more your insides stretch in accommodation, the better it begins to feel.

You nod up at him, the first tear escaping your overflowing eyes.

“I’m a-alright now, Father.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead, still cradling your face as he draws back, then pushes forward once more. The noises that escape your lips are positively sinful and they only encourage him on, hips steadily gaining speed and force with each passing moment.

Soon, your body and breasts and excess flesh bounce in time with his hips’ sharp, forceful thrusts. By now, the pain has completely subsided and made way for the pleasure to build in your loins.

“S-So sssweet,” He grunts quietly in your ear. “So j-juicy and tender...and you’re a-all mine...”

Your small whimpers and gasps turn to scandalous moans and cries of desperation. You hold onto his arms tightly, fingernails digging deep into his alabaster skin, surely leaving marks.

“Please, Father, please...”

Kylo can feel his control, his restraint beginning to slip as he nears climax. He’s unable to hold it off, unwilling to deny himself this heavenly pleasure whilst his cock is stained with fresh virgin’s blood.

The thought of that alone thrusts him right up to the edge, looking over the cliff to the peak of bliss.

“Y/N, my a-angel, I...I will not be able to endure much l-longer.”

You nod, grabbing hold of his hair firmly. “It is alright, F-Father. Use m-me, use my body to bring yourself p-pleasure.”

Those words send him careening into climax and he quickly pulls away just as the first rope of his foggy liquor emerges. His hips still give half-hearted mock thrusts as he spills his creamy seed all over your puffy, used cunt.

He crawls off of you once he’s finished, beginning to redress immediately. You sit up, shakily and already you can feel the pain in your loins beginning to build from the Father’s hardened intrusion.

Your eyes catch sight of some red dripped down onto the bedsheet and your cheeks warm, acute worry flaring up inside of you. Is that supposed to happen?

Almost as if he read your worried mind, Father Kylo steps up to you and holds your chin up so that you can look into his eyes.

“Bleeding is typical for virgins, nothing is the matter, I promise.”

You nod, sighing softly in relief. “Thank you, Father.”

He smiles, bending down to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “It is I who should be thanking you, my child. Thank you for giving your innocence to me, for trusting me. You did so well for me tonight, angel.”

Your cheeks warm in flattery, smile splitting your face. But, your expression falls into a frown when you see him drape the cloak over his shoulders.

“Must you leave so soon, Father?”

Father Kylo nods as he pulls on his shoes. “I must get back to the convent, angel; I apologize for having to rush off so quickly. But, I promise I will make it up to you next time, yes?”

You nod, offering a small, disappointment-tinged smile. “Yes, of course, Father. I understand.”

He reaches ‘neath his robes and pulls out the small, silver Holy Cross necklace, draping it around your neck.

“Something to remind you of me, ‘till we next meet.” Kylo says, kissing your temple. “Farewell, my beloved angel.”

Your lips tug up into a genuine smile, fingers toying with the silver charm as he approaches the door and slips out.

“Farewell, Father.”

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

Magic and Firelight (Ivar x reader)

Oh God. you know how I said I never write smut....apparently I lied. I blame this entire thing on @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for encouraging this. All. Their. Faults.

This one-shot was inspired by the moodboard created by the ever-lovely @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom for a challenge. In the challenge she had to use Ivar, MagicAU and Licking....so I made sure to incorporate those themes into this written one-shot.

Also this does not fit anywhere in the Vikings timeline because I want everyone alive and marginally happy, ok? So everyone lives in Kattegat but think season 5a Ivar.

Warnings: SMUT, unexpected feels, like one swear word.

Words: 4200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood

reminder: not my moodboard. this entire, glorious thing belongs to @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom who was kind enough to let me use it.

Revelry filled the air, coating everything in the Great Hall like a fresh snowfall. The feast was well underway. The smell of roasted meat and ale rose steadily into the air, along with the laughter and cheers of those still in attendance. A contest of strength just finished, the loser ending up with blood dripping from his nose, tainting his teeth, as he laughed uproariously.

A joyous shout shot through the hall. The signal of the next form of entertainment. Fists pounded on the tables in delight, a few exclamations arising amongst the sound. All noise ceased when a slow drumbeat began, like the echo of a steady heart. It sunk into the skin, traveling to the chest until one's heartbeat matched in echo.

Ivar shifted in his seat near the base of the thrones. They both sat empty behind him, his mother having retired long ago, and Ragnar at a nearby table with Floki and a few others, laughing with a flushed face and ale horn in hand. Glancing around his table, he could see the wild excitement in his brothers' eyes…. for they all knew what came next.

As the drumbeat started to increase, the first of the swirling dancers emerged. Their bodies covered in thin fabric that teased as much as it covered, leaving one longing for a glimpse only to be denied as she continued her provocative movements. The six beautiful women moved through the tables like swans gliding through water, each step, each sway of their hips graceful and in tune with the beat.

"Who are they?" Ivar asked gruffly. These women were not the normal entertainment at a feast. Nor did he did not recognize any of them.

"They came with a trader from the Mediterranean." Ubbe answered, never removing his eyes from the dancers. "He petitioned with father yesterday to allow them the chance to entertain us in the way of their people…. or something along those lines."

"Remind me to ask that trader where they are specifically from, because I know where I am going to explore next." Hvitserk stated with a smirk.

Ubbe bumped shoulders with Hvitserk, an unspoken agreement in the action.

Ivar rolled his eyes at their antics and turned his gaze back to the dancers…. Only to freeze when one locked eyes with him.

She stood across the fire, the flames appeared to lick and dance upon her skin. Every curve, each dip of her luxurious body highlighted in the flickering light. Her hair hung long, swaying with each movement, its own form of enticement. It was those eyes though, that held him spellbound to her. Large, luminous orbs that seemed to peer into his soul, that stole the very breath from his lungs. All he could do was stare as she danced. Each movement was pure elegance and seduction. The whole time those mesmerizing eyes kept him spellbound, oblivious to all but her. With her eyes locked on him, it felt she danced only for him. Each twirl of her body, each shake of her barely clad hips, her hands tracing patterns in the air, it all felt like a dance to entrance him. To maintain his attention. To rile up his blood and desire for her. To make him yearn for her with his whole body and soul.

When she finally released him from her gaze to spin away, he gasped in a lungful of air. Not realizing until now how he had forgotten to breathe while watching her, so enthralled by her, even air became unnecessary.

"You alright, Ivar?"

The raven-haired Ragnarsson looked at Hvitserk, noticing the smile that teased the corners of his mouth.

"This is the closest he's seen a naked woman besides Margrethe and we all know how that went." Sigurd snarked, bringing his cup of ale to his lips.

"Shut up before I rip your tongue out and feed it to the flames." He snarled at his curly-haired brother. Fury stirred in the hollow of his chest like a wild animal threatening to tear apart its cage.

Ubbe smacked the table. "Enough. Both of you."

The table quieted as their focus returned to the dancers. Eyes searching the hall, a slow-growing panic simmered in Ivar's gut as he could not see her. The other five dancers spun and twirled about, their bodies an example of art in motion.

Without warning, the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder caused his head to whip to the side, ready to demand blood from the one with the audacity to touch him…. Only to be met with those eyes that made him flustered and hot all over.

With her touches tender, she trailed her hand from his shoulder up his neck to cup the side of his face. Even if the need arose, he would be unable to remove himself from her sensual touch and her penetrating gaze, bewitched by her to remain still. Never before had he felt so exposed to someone. Even the times when he broke bones and had to be carried like a child, humiliation ripping into his skin. Now he felt undone as she beheld him, consumed by her with just a look. If the other dancers were art, then she, this divine beauty beside him, was a masterpiece, crafted by the gods themselves.

Waves of jealousy rolled off his brothers, crashing against him like stormy waves on a beach but for once, he did not care. His eyes stayed glued to her, hypnotized by her very presence.

Suddenly he found himself facing her, unable to remember when he turned away from the table. She stood between his brace-clad legs, gazing down at him. Her fingers traced over his cheek, only to land at his mouth. Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip, encouraging his lips to part. Unable to resist her, he obliged, lips parting slightly. She made no further move, either to draw away or closer. His heart beat rapidly with excitement and mischief. A streak of wicked intent made his lips curl slightly, giving him away. His leather-bound hands reached out for her thighs; the soft skin almost foreign beneath his calloused-hardened fingers. In the same instant, he nipped at her thumb, still lingering on his bottom lip. Then he waited for her reaction with an impish smirk.

She chuckled, a sultry, honeyed sound that flowed straight to his useless cock and made him shiver in delight.

Never removing her eyes from his, she reached down to grab one of his hands on her exposed thighs. Then torturously slow, she guided it up the contours of her body, his hand caressing her hip, up her stomach and between her full breasts until his hand was at her mouth. Without waiting, she encouraged two of his fingers within. As her tongue swiped and sucked on his fingers like they were a tasty treat, Ivar lost all ability to think or resist. His hand still on her, gripped her thigh to ground himself, to confirm this was not a dream.

Women never paid attention to him, never looked at him with lust. After the latest raid in England where he proved his prowess in strategy and as a warrior, less women looked at him with disgust.

But never this.

Never had one put him under a spell that made him want to sell his soul to possess her. Never had he seen desire darken a woman's eyes as they beheld him. Never had his own body and mind reacted with such a carnal, animalistic instinct.

He pulled his fingers from her mouth and dropped his hand to curl around her throat with just the slightest pressure. "Are you a thrall?"

"No." She answered in a breathy tone, that only intensified his growing lust. Then she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, those barely contained breasts almost in his face. "Do with me what you want, Ivar the Boneless. I am yours tonight."

Whatever previous desire bubbled in his veins exploded at hearing her alluring whisper. A guttural groan lodged in his throat. The hunger for her reached an all-consuming, feverish pitch. Without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, slipping the crutch under his arm. "Come."

He half expected her to laugh and walk away but instead, she traced a hand down the tunic over his torso with a purr of pleasure. Then when she looked up at him coyly once more, he was halfway to throwing her onto the table behind him to ravish her right there.

She silently followed him back to his room. The whole walk his mind raged, both in desire and fear. He knew he could not pleasure her as a man but this ethereal creature that followed him deserved to be worshipped. And she had chosen him tonight. Out of all those in the hall, including his brothers…. she chose him.

He vowed to make sure she did not regret it.

He dismissed his personal thrall as they walked in, pleased to see the fire lit in the small hearth and furs laid out before it. The door closed, echoing in the room. Once alone, he moved over to sit on a nearby stool, leaning his crutch on the wall behind him.

She watched the fire, standing in the middle of his room. Her clothing appeared almost translucent in this light, a way of directing and guiding the eye along her perfect body.

"Take off your clothes." He commanded in a husky tone.

With a seductive wink back at him, she tugged on the few ties keeping the minimal clothing on her flawless body. In a moment, everything pooled at her feet….and he damn near swallowed his tongue. Bare before him, he was convinced there was nothing more stunning, more gorgeous than her. She put every sunset to shame, every spring flower, every star to grace the night sky, nothing could ever compare to her.

"Dance for me, my beauty."

A beguiling smile on her lips, she watched him for a moment. Then she began to move. A slow sway of her hips, hands trailing up her body to rise above her head.

There was no force that could tear his gaze away from her. When she danced in the Great Hall, he had been memorized…. but now, it would be sinful to remove his eyes from her graceful form. The circular motion of her hips, her hands tracing the curves of her body, the heavy-lidded eyes that watched him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at her feet for eternity and watch her dance. To worship at her altar and bestow her with gifts from the Aesir.

Then she began to spin slowly, allowing him to see all of her, a music leading her that only she was aware of. At one point, she squatted down and slowly rose, only to snap her hips up in a way that made him audibly growl. His hands were clenched in his lap, desperate to touch her, to replace her hands with his as they caressed her body.

Finally he could stand it no longer, this enchanting, sensual dance that made his blood boil ceaselessly with desire.

He swallowed thickly, mouth dry. "Go by the fire." He demanded.

If she was confused by his command, she said nothing. Turning around she sashayed over to the furs laid in front of the small hearth in his room. His eyes greedily drunk in the curves of her body as she moved. She laid down on the pile of furs before the hearth, unashamed in her nudity. With the colors of the flames and shadows painted across her body, she appeared ethereal. Something only for the gods to view. Perfection at its purest form.

Sitting on the stool, he quickly worked the straps of his braces, never taking his eyes off her. Unwilling to miss her glory for even a moment. She laid on her side, gaze on him. One hand propped her head up while the other skimmed those curves highlighted by the flames.

Once freed, he crawled over to her like the predator he was. Hunger and domination with each placement of his hands and shift of his shoulders. There was no doubt who was in control. His fierce gaze never removed from her, keeping her pinned with the same strength as if ropes held her down. As he approached, she silently rolled onto her back, an intensity in those eyes as they watched him and a kittenish smile on her lips. With that, he crawled up her body until he hovered over her, blanketing her perfect form. Then he waited. Staring down at her, he was shocked once again that she chose him. That she currently lay beneath, pliant to his touch and commands. It was a powerful and dark sensation. To have this control, this power over her….to have her at his mercy. A more rapturous feeling than killing Christian priests or obliterating any army.

"Ivar…." She sighed out, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "Don't keep me waiting."

A crooked grin grew on his face. Here lay this Valkyrie, this goddess, this divine creature beneath him, begging for him. Without wasting a moment, his mouth descended on her skin, his arms holding himself just above her. He placed open-mouth kisses along her chest, loving the soft sounds of pleasure it drew from her. His tongue traced the curve of her breasts, paying special attention to the tattoo of a flower between them. Suddenly he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her back to arch. Her hand flew up to grip his braids, as he sucked and licked the bud until it was hard and peaked, then he switched to the other side to repeat his ministrations.

"Ivar…." She moaned, tugging on his braids, hips rolling beneath them.

"Shhhh…. soon." He nipped at the side of her breast, pleased with the heat that flared in her eyes. "We go at my pace…. and I plan on taking my time."

Slowly he slithered his way down her body, his tongue leading the way over her soft skin. There was nowhere he did not worship with his mouth, nowhere safe that his tongue did not covetously explore. By the time he was done with her, his mouth and tongue intimately knew every inch of her and the erotic sounds those spots drew from her lips. With a long swipe of his tongue starting at her sternum, he trailed it down between her breasts to her belly only to end at the top of her womanhood.

He glanced up from between her legs, the scent of her arousal a beacon for him to follow. She laid there, bathed in flames, coated in his saliva, chest rising and falling like the waves of the seas, with her eyes closed and mouth partly open. Never had he witnessed anything more magnificent.

"Still with me, my beauty?"

Her eyes fluttered open to peek at him, a tantalizing smile on her lips. "Always."

With that, he dove into her. His mouth feasted on the juices coming from her womanhood. It was nothing like he expected. She tasted sweeter than honey, stronger than ale. He continued to lap and lick her, wanting more, needing more of her taste. For he swore, this was the nectar of the gods. A sweet ambrosia not meant for mortal men.

Her cries of pleasure doubled his resolve to ravish her with his tongue. To bring her such pleasure that she would always remember him. He flicked at her clit with his tongue, watching her keen to the ceiling above. Her hips rolled as he sucked at her folds with reckless abandon.

Each mewl and cry from her mouth, made him feel like a god. Each chanting of his name seemed to strengthen his body to continue. Even as he laid on the floor, propped up on his elbows, her legs over his shoulders, he felt no pain. As if her ecstasy flowed back into him. Instead of the constant ache of pain from his legs that clawed at his mind ceaselessly, for once it was silenced. All he was aware of…. was her. As if she invaded his body and possessed his mind.

If he was to die now, with her cries of pleasure filling his ears, he knew Odin would still allow him into Valhalla. For to bring this celestial being pleasure must be akin to the glory of battle. His blood roared in his ears, forcing him to continue, desperate for more. Her taste on his tongue was a craving he never knew he had until now. In the cradle of her thighs was his new favorite place to exist.

When she peaked, when her pleasure overwhelmed her and his name was screamed into the very heavens above, he greedily ate away at her, drinking everything down and still yearning for more. He licked at her womanhood through the aftershocks, her taste and scent all his senses wanted to know.

Once satisfied, he peered up at her, expecting to see her blissed-out, eyes closed and immobile. Instead what he witnessed made him freeze, unable to move.

She observed him with eyes that glowed like two full moons on the darkest of nights.

Where once he had been the predator, intent on devouring her, adamant to possess her…. now he understood. He was the prey. He was the one caught in the spider's web. He was the one now owned by her alone. Those glowing eyes entranced him, preventing him from looking away, sealing his mouth shut to call out. Unable to do anything but gawk at her in a bewildered, longing awe.

Slowly she leaned up, staring at him. He could not remember moving. All his mind could fathom were those eyes…. those glowing orbs that he swore had seen Valhalla, that galaxies swirled amidst, that stole his soul and branded her mark on him. When he next blinked, he was sitting, with her straddling his lap, in all her exquisite, naked glory. Her eyes beheld him with softness, her hands a gentle weight on his shoulders, even her bare breasts pressed against his chest, all of it alluded a power that could only be answered with reverence.

"Who…. are you?" He stuttered out.

She smiled; a captivating thing that made him want to worship her again but also sink his teeth into her bottom lip. "I have been called many things throughout my life. But tonight, those names do not matter. Tonight, I am simply y/n…. Tonight, I am here for you."

"Y/n?"

She purred as if the name stoked a fire within her. "Yes, my valiant warrior." Her hand tangled in his braids again, almost guiding his head to the side as her plump lips skimmed his jawline. "I have heard your prayers, seen your cries. I cannot give you your legs but I will give you what I can."

A quake raced up his spine. "What?"

"Shhhh…. surrender to me."

Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his, as if giving him time to pull away. Instead, he felt a jolt shoot through him. He groaned, opening his mouth, allowing her to take control. He had thought her taste as he lapped greedily at her core was ambrosia, but her mouth…. oh, the taste of her mouth was both death and life combined. Something so intoxicating and potent, it stole the very breath from his lungs while a vitality bleed into his veins simultaneously. Her mouth held him prisoner, a melding of their lips and tongues that scorched him in every way deliciously possible.

"Do you feel it?" She whispered, before delving into his mouth again with an even greater need.

And he did. By this point, his legs should be screaming at him, especially with her weight on his thighs. Instead there was no pain, no ache. Only blissful tingles danced on his nerves and a fire stirred in his belly.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, eyes wide and panting as he gawked at her.

"I cannot heal you," she quietly said, eyes still glowing, "but I can take some of your pain in exchange for the pleasure you gave me."

Unexpected tears welled in his eyes. Pain, his constant companion since birth, now was barely a blip on his mental radar. He dropped his head to her chest, overwhelmed by the lessened pain and bliss coursing through his veins. As he thought about it, as he feasted on her, every lick, every caress of his tongue against her, pain drained from his body like slow droplets of water. It was only now he noticed, so caught up in her exquisite taste, that he easily could become drunk on and never wish to be sober again.

She spoke against his ear, authority and power ringing in each word. "Hear my words, Ivar the Boneless. Your fame will live on for generations. You will not be forgotten, in this life or the next. This is my final gift that I give you."

She drew his face back to hers, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, desperate kiss. Her words, her touch, her taste, everything felt seared into the very marrow of his bones. A burst of white light and ecstasy flooded through him, making him wonder for a second if he died.

When he opened his eyes, mind hazy as if intoxicated, it was to find himself alone. Frantic, he looked around. Yet there was nothing to show of her presence. Not even her discarded clothes lay on the floor anymore.

"No….no, no, no." He mumbled, refusing to believe she was gone…. but there was no denying the truth. Yet even as he sat there, tears still slipping down his cheeks, he could feel her presence with the absence of pain. He could still taste her on his tongue. Strength and vitality flowed through his crippled body in ways he had never felt before.

He was unsure how long he sat there before a quick knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. It opened to reveal Hvitserk who cautiously stepped in, eyes scanning the room.

"You alright, brother?"

Ivar wondered at the stupid question then realized he must be referring to the evidence of tears still staining his cheeks. Hastily he wiped them away on his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

"We thought we heard something…. I came to check on you." He tilted his head and scanned the room once again. "Where is she?"

Ivar turned his face to the fire, without answering. How could he explain all that just occurred without sounding mad? That a glorious being chose him, used him for her pleasure and then gave him priceless gifts. No, no one would believe that. This was a memory, a present for him alone to cherish.

"You know if you need advice with pleasuring a woman, I am more than willing to help. They do call me the love guru." Hvitserk chuckled but immediately silenced at the stony glare Ivar sent his way. "Um, right. Well, I'll head back out." He started to walk away but stopped at Ivar's call.

"Wait!" When Hvitserk turned back around, Ivar swallowed thickly then continued. "What…. what color are my eyes?"

The flaxen-haired brother moved closer. "Um, blue…. a vibrant blue…. they almost look like they are glowing but with a veil over them. I've never seen them like that before. Are you feeling alright? Do you want help getting to your bed?"

Ivar smiled longingly, his chest squeezing at his brother's words. "No….no, I feel… I feel great, Hvitty."

"Um, sure. Do you need anything?"

"No, you can go back out to the feast."

"Okay, good night, Ivar."

Ivar did not answer, only just hearing the door closing as turned back to face the dancing flames. His mind drifted to thinking about her, his beauty.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something nestled between the furs. Carefully he maneuvered himself over to gently grab it, curiosity pushing him forward despite caution. Cradling it in his hand like a priceless treasure, he now could see what it was; a pendant, only the size of his thumb, but it was in the color and shape of a full moon and an etching that matched the tattoo of the flower between her breasts.

"Y/n." He whispered, as if prompted by something to say her name. To his surprise, the pendant glowed faintly for a moment, so reminiscent of her eyes before dulling back.

"Thank you." He slipped his necklace off with Thor's hammer and added the pendant. Once back on his neck, he lifted the pendant and kissed it, only to stifle a moan as the faintest hints of her taste tingled on his lips.

Feeling euphoric, he laid back on the pile of furs, pressing the pendant to his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to remember every moment with her. He prayed that he could see her once again, either in this life or in Valhalla. For he knew, there would never be another like her. He had no idea who or what she was, only the name she gave him. A name that would be branded upon his heart and soul for all eternity.

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midnightmoonkiss · 3 years

Text

All For You.

Villain! Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: You didn’t ask for this, and yet he gave you the same sick gift again and again. You hated him.

WARNINGS!: blood, death mentioned, dark themes

Category: Angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist

A/N: Was listening to “If I killed Someone For You” and.. I think it fits Villain Deku perfectly.

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

Izuku has OFA

He is not necessarily a yandere

You live alone for a reason

Frigid water poured steadily from the faucet as he rinsed his pale hands, turning the water crimson as it washed down the rusted drain of the medical sink.

The room was dark, the only light being a flickering candle that dripped white wax onto the concrete floor below.

The handle creaked as he turned off the water, a soft sigh slipping past his chapped lips.

Stray droplets broke the silence of the room.

It would have driven anyone else insane.

Dull green eyes stared into a mirror, the dirty surface reflecting his disheveled appearance.

Blood stained his clothes, smudging against his freckled cheek.

His green hair was a mess, once slicked back with gel now all over the place from his habit of running his fingers through his hair when frustrated.

It certainly wasn’t the look he was going for.

Two knocks sounded on the other side of the metal door closing the room off, the noise echoing in the nearly empty room.

Inhaling deeply, the man fixed his hair up with wet digits best he could, only after he finished did he notice his forest green tie had splotches of blood on it as well.

He giggled to himself as he fixed it, tightening it up to his neck.

It looked festive.

Turning around on his black leather heels, he looked over at the bloodied corpse tied up in the corner, all life completely drained from its opened, bloodshot eyes that were once filled with curiosity.

“You know…”

He whispered to it,

“If you hadn’t been so cruel to my beloved, you wouldn’t look so fucking disgusting right now.”

His dress shoes clicked against the floor as he made his way to the large door, knocking thrice in a particular pattern.

It unlocked with a loud clink, and he was out of the room that once held two very alive people.

He didn't like soiling his clothes or getting his hands dirty, but whenever it came to you, he was willing to do anything.

Midoriya Izuku was a dangerous man, and he wasn’t afraid to bare his teeth and leave a lifeless body behind him.

He’d done it before, he’d do it again.

Though he was exhausted, he didn’t let it show. The dark circles under his eyes have been there since he was a child, they didn’t give away how he felt anymore.

“I’ll be heading out.”

He stated, voice low and challenging, daring any of his subordinates to object.

“It’s raining…” One brave soul spoke up from the back,

“I know.” He could smell the asphalt from here, as well as hear the thumping of raindrops on the metal roof five floors above the basement they were currently in.

He took his time climbing up the metal stairs, pulling his black leather glove from the pockets on his slacks and slipping them on.

They prevented fingerprints, and they were quite warm.

The rain was unexpected, leaving you completely soaked all the way down to your shoes as you fumbled with your keys.

You just wanted to get inside, undress, relax in a bath, and go the fuck to sleep.

Today was far more stressful than it had to be, considering your bitch of a boss decided to skip work today without telling anyone - leaving you in charge during the most hectic time of the month.

You were freezing and both mentally and physically exhausted, and what was pissing you off even more was how this was the third time you dropped your damn keys.

Your fingers were numb as you shivered, hard to grip the slippery keys.

You felt like crying victoriously when you finally got the door unlocked.

Slipping your dirty heels and soaked pantyhose off, you dragged your feet through the house, making your way to your room without the use of a light switch. You were too tired to fumble around for it.

Inside your room, you shrugged off your coat and unbutton your white blouse, making your way to your dresser for a fresh pair of clothes.

It was a Saturday, and knowing you had the day off tomorrow was like a sweet kiss.

“(Y/N)..”

You froze, body no longer shaking just from the cold.

That voice.. It haunted you.

Once so sweet and kind.. now all you could associate it with was the stench of gunpowder and the coolness of a blade.

You could see his silhouette in the mirror, his tall, dark figure beside the window you hadn't noticed was opened.

Bile burned your throat, you didn’t want to be near this man ever again.

You were foolish to think you had escaped his reach.

“I’ve missed you..” He drawled, sincerity threading itself through his words as he took a step towards you.

“Really?” You huffed, “I don’t miss you at all.”

“I know you do,”

He was behind you before you could blink, the frightening sparks of his quirk sending chills down your spine as they lit the room in a green glow for just a moment.

You were trapped against the dresser, one hand pressed against the mahogany wood, and the other slithering dangerously around your throat like a snake that could strangle you at any moment.

You gulped, breath stuttering as you fought to stay calm.

His chest was pressed to your back, his figure towering over you.

He always made you feel so small and helpless.

“You reek of blood..” The scent burned your nostrils.

Soaked green locks brushed against your cheek as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume that drove him crazy.

He had purchased the same scent a while ago, his sheets were covered in it. He could never get enough

“And you smell delicious, my love.”

“Don't call me that-!” You spat through your teeth, venom in your voice only making him smile against your clammy flesh.

You reminded him of an angry mouse.

“And why’s that?” His voice was always so deep and dripping with authority.

His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, pulling your face to the side so that he could look into your mesmerizing (E/C) eyes.

They were like a drug to him, heroin that he shot into his veins every time he had the pleasure of looking into them.

Even if all they held was fear and disgust, they were still so beautiful to him.

You didn’t answer.

He sighed.

Looking down, you noticed the red blood on his collar, the sight making you gag.

He no doubt had more on his person, and yet he was pressed against you.

You wanted to throw up.

“Who was it.”

The question hung in the air, and he found himself not wanting to answer it.

“Midoriya, who was it.” Your voice shook, tears blurring your vision at the thought of him torturing another person because of you.

You tried so hard to keep away from people.

You cut contacts with all of your friends and moved cities to keep them safe - hell, you hadn’t even dated after what had happened with your last lover.

He ruined everything.

He stalked you like a predator, and you clearly had nowhere to run and hide.

You would forever be caged like a pet, and your own pathetic attempts to fight back only ever made him smile even wider.

That smile used to bring butterflies to your stomach, and now it just made you nauseous.

To him, it was a game.

The game of seeing how long until you break and give into him.

He’d let you run ‘free,’ act as though you can fight against him.

He adored that spirit of yours, but he knew that it would break some day.

He couldn’t wait.

You’ll be completely his one day, not that you weren’t already.

Looking into his eyes, you somehow knew who it was.

Shame burned your veins.

Your boss..

Even if he was cruel to you, he had a family.

“Don’t cry, (Y/N)..” Izuku whispered, fingers falling from your chin to brush away your onslaught of tears, “I hate it when you cry..”

“You always make me cry, Izuku!” Sobbing out loud, you fought to get away from him, though it was useless you couldn't help yourself from trying.

“I hate you-! Mph!”

Your outburst was silenced by his fingers, two digits knuckle deep in your mouth.

You choked around them, cringing at the taste of leather.

Sniffling, you breathed loudly through your snotty nose, tears stinging your cheeks.

“I don’t like it when you talk like that..” He muttered darkly, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You were afraid of him.

You always were.

It was like there was an invisible knife pressed against your neck, slicing into your skin and daring you to try and speak again.

His forehead fell to your nape, and you stood there in silence for a while, the pitter patter of rain doing next to nothing to soothe your nerves.

It felt like time had stopped in the silence, like you were waiting for your own death.

“You’re soaked..” He commented, pulling away, saliva dripping down your chin as he finally pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“No..”

That made him chuckle, the sound making your skin prickle.

“You were going to take a bath, right?”

Despite being a murderous villain, Izuku still treated you with an ounce of respect, never once looking down at your exposed chest despite a large mirror allowing him to do so.

You hated how he was a gentleman despite everything he’s done and will continue to do.

“You should get out of these clothes.. You’re going to catch a cold.”

And you hated how he fretted over you.

You hated everything about him.

The faint sound of sirens pierced the atmosphere, not too far away but getting louder and louder every second.

“I suppose I better take my leave, my love,”

“Don’t call me that..” You repeated meekly under your weak breath,

“I’ll see you again soon..” He turned around, pausing for a brief second, “but you won’t see me.”

He somehow always made your skin crawl without even having to touch you.

Biting your lip, you whipped around, ready to scream at him, only to see nothing.

He had already left.

And yet..

You knew he was never really gone.

You wished you never met him.

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