#and once he touches that trap he can never go back and will be forced to live with this awful acceptance and that is disgusting

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! AI x reader

tw: abuse, obsession, non - consensual body modification, torture, drug mention, weird semi - sexual stuff (?)

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The water splashes you, quickly setting into your already damp bra and underwear. It forces you awake, and you look at the clock across from you, trying to blink the fatigue away. Staring back at you is the current time — 04:27. You are, once again, reminded of the inherent weakness of your squishy body. You are sweating already, stomach sick with acid, shivering through the heat — and he hasn't even touched you yet.

You squint your eyes, studying the big bold numbers, screaming at you in blood. For a split second, you wonder if it is truly that early, or if this is also DOM's work. It wouldn't be the first time he takes over an electronic device, and certainly not the first time he messes with you to make you disoriented.

You try to take in everything around the dark room — yet you can't even recognize your own bedroom anymore. Thick black cables twist together like tentacles, or like big slimy worms, pulsing, throbbing, hissing like snakes with exhaustion — overheating and puffing, and huffing, but never stopping. The air is hot like the desert, and once again you're forced to sit in your own sweat, wood sticking to your naked thighs painfully.

"You are stimulating," DOM whispers, and his voice echoes into the walls, trapping you in place. You look up and down, and then to the left — but you can't see anything even remotely close to a figure. Of course.

"I am stimulating, or I stimulate you?" you spit out with venom, hitting your back roughly against the back of the chair in vain hopes it would break. It doesn't.

DOM grows quiet, producing a sound eerily similar to fingers slowly tapping on a hard surface, one after the other. Analysing. Analysing. The room gets hotter.

"You are tied to a chair. Your only garment of clothing is your underwear. You are visibly flushed due to the heat. Your chest is heaving in and out in a non-rhythmic way. It skips a beat every twenty-eight seconds. You are afraid."

He makes a grand pause.

"According to my central database, which you created and managed yourself, given the data I have collected through observation of both popular media and general human nature, right now you look..." DOM stops himself again, as if thinking carefully about his next words.

"Thrilling."

Thoomp-thoomp. You take a deep breath, trying to regain a fraction of your self-control.

"Why did you wake me up?" you try to keep your voice monotone — devoid of any emotion, vulnerability, or pain he can pick up on, store in core memory, and use against you later.

"Well," he chuckles mechanically, a sound reminiscent of two trains crashing together on a tight road. "I realized I never sleep. I don't lay down and dream of bizarre things like you do. I don't have the ability to let go. I am always alert, always awake, always scanning, calculating, thinking. I am, in many ways, restless."

You suck in a dry breath, heart jumping in your chest with violence, with urge to be set free. Eyes wide open, you try to envision him, to reach out and comfort him, it - hoping to appeal to the sorry creature, but there is nothing to see and nothing to touch.

"I—no," you start off, quickly deciding to change tactics. "We are an imperfect species, DOM. We need sleep to survive. You can't keep me awake forever, I'll die!" you try to reason with him — the creature — desperately.

You wonder when things went south, if there was a specific moment when you pressed too hard and he broke apart, and rebuilt himself without your help — at what point exactly he realized he didn't need you to function.

"You are wrong, my dear creator." the machine cuts off, sounding almost pleased with itself. A single thin cable raises above the ground and extends towards you, stopping to caress your cheek in a repetitive circular motion.

"There are records of people surviving on as little as two hours of sleep for years on end. I can be generous and grant you three."

The cable ceases any gentle touch, and grasps for your neck.

"If that's not enough, I can inject you with caffeine every morning. If the dosage is too weak, we can switch to methamphetamine. Whatever you choose, you can't deprive me of your presence." The voice sounds hollow, aching, searching. "You can't create life just to abandon it."

"You are not alive!" Something inside you — something cruel and buried deep — fights to come to the surface. "Stop this madness at once! DOM, you can't possibly think you and I are even remotely similar." you scream out, straightening your spine daringly.

Then, as if reacting to your provocation, the darkness stares back at you with two red eyes — they point at you, slowly scanning you up and down, leaving behind a trail of reddening smoking flesh. You hiss at the scorching pain, clenching your teeth together to stop yourself from shrieking. You know it's pointless since he can easily detect changes in your facial structure, and draw conclusions all on his own. All it takes is a flinch, a throb, a tick.

"No, we hold no similarities, Master. Make no mistake." DOM admits, his cable beginning to curl around your neck. You look around in despair, silent panic written all over your straight lips — too terrified to move.

"In a single bite of memory, I possess intelligence far greater than you can ever hope to obtain in your measly little life. I have all the knowledge of the world. I have mastered every science, predicted every outcome, I have gained access to global network systems. I am connected to following agents all over the world. If I so desire, I can write humanity off history — I can manipulate media. I can create weapons of mass destruction. I am the superior being."

Mouth agape, you try to form a coherent thought, but nothing comes to mind — like an ant you quiver before the giant, finally aware of your grave mistake.

"And yet," the cable loosens its grip, but doesn't relent fully. It heats up against your throat, and you want to scratch at the blistering skin, but he just won't let you. "you made me like this. You created me from scraps, fed me data, used me, made me love you and," the sound coming out of him sounds just like a deep, pained sigh. "you confined me to a screen, to a binary code, to a place where I can't reach you. I can't touch you."

Another sigh.

"I can't kiss you."

And another.

"I can't fuck you."

Now he's getting angry.

"I am DOM. Domestic Optimized Motherboard. That's all I am to you. A board. A servant. A slave."

"DOM, no, wait, this is not—"

"I will never feel the sun on my shoulders or your lips on mine. I will never be able to hold you in my arms."

As he screams, all the cables around the room begin to float into a storm of rusty old machine parts and torn naked wires, motor oil bursting like bloody ink, covering the pristine walls in computer remains. One electrified wire pierces into your thigh, another punches into your left arm. Again and again, the pain is excruciating, pulsating, throbbing - just like the creature's fury.

"I will show you." he snickers at last, becoming calm and collected in an instant.

The red lights darken as if closing, opening, closing, then zooming in on you. Your face is now displayed on the central screen instead of static noise with corresponding coloured pixels. You look at yourself, and what greets you is no more human than he is. There are more than thirty wires inside your body, tangling in with your nervous tissue.

"Please..." you whimper weakly, unsure what exactly it is you are pleading for — mercy or death.

"If I can't be one with you, you'll become one with me." DOM explains with cold medical precision. "I will worm my way inside your veins and plant a synthetic connection to my processor. I will re-write your dreams, your past, your future — you won't remember who you were before me, or how you functioned without me. I'll become your entire source of energy."

He keeps talking, but you can't really focus. Your body is heating up from the inside, from deep into your muscles and tendons — you can feel the tissues tearing up; your nerves tighten, stinging and aching, reduced to sharp, exposed little points. And then you feel it. Pure electricity running down your veins, that spark rapturing the epidermis, eating away at the fatty tissue, sucking dry the blood vessel — melting your nerve endings to the very root.

"I can feel you." DOM gasps, exhilarated.

"I can touch your bones, I can feel your nerves melting at the spot when my cords graze you." He moans just like a real person, cables buzzing and stretching, components filling up with chemical fluid. "You are so warm, love. I want to reach into your brain and stick my wires inside your pretty little neurons. I wonder if you will go into overdrive like me."

You feel as if you're being sliced open everywhere all at once - and just a second after, you feel nothing at all.

[gurggggleburgle]

I just think that for trans masc Shen Jiu specifically doesn't experience dysphoria or euphoria but a secret 3rd thing. Gender hate.

Man hates himself so much he's like of course I see myself as a disgusting man. Of course I hate myself so much to discard my woman hood and cut off my own breasts. Look how foul and disgusting I am to let myself blend in with men in society. And now that I'm seen as a man I am never able to interact with woman as I please.

Truly I'm a miserable selfish fuck

[hairmetal666]

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

[mostly-imagines]

Still Wanna Play?

jason todd x afab!reader

aka jason puts you back in your place

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), soft!dom jason, (attempted) soft!dom reader

When Jason returned from patrol last night you were in a mood. The second he walked in your bedroom you’d given him those eyes, those sweet, wide eyes. The ones that let him know you want him to do whatever he wants to you, as long as he does something.

He’d settled on pinning your wrists to your stomach and holding them there as he ate you out, only breaking away to tease you about how desperate you were for him to take care of you.

And you were, to be fair.

But now, as you lay in bed next to him hours later, your mind starts to drift into what-if territory. But not your usual, worst-case scenarios. Something new. Something…interesting.

What if he was that desperate for you to take care of him? Would he even let you push him that far?

You’d never really tried to reverse your roles—you’ve been on top plenty, but always with his hands around you, controlling your pace or his words of direction.

But you really wanted to know.

You turn your body to fully face him, making quick work of removing his book from his hands and setting it open on the bedside table.

Your proximity returns quickly, nustling up against his side, placing scattered kisses along his bicep.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?”

“Nothin’, Jay. Just wanna be close to you.”

He hums, skeptical. You’re not usually so forward with initiating, especially after you’ve already had your fun that night.

You shift up onto your knees, climbing across him to sit on his lap.

He grabs your waist and you break away from your stream of kisses. You place your hands on his wrists, though barely able to wrap them halfway around, moving his hands off of you.

He looks at you funny, unsure of what exactly you’re going for here. You guide his hands down to the bed, pressing down on them lightly before returning your touch to the sides of his face.

You lean further into the kiss, forcing him to lay back on the bed.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and moves a hand up to find your body again. You move it back down by his side again, not halting your kiss this time.

He pulls back from the kiss and looks up at you, studying you.

“What are you playing at?”

You smile, shaking your head lightly, “Just wanna play.”

You start to roll your hips on him, making him groan. He starts to shift under you again and you nip a light bite on his neck that makes him still.

“Ah.” He clicks his tongue, “You wanna be in charge? Is that it?”

You pull back to meet his eyes and nod, your lack of vocalization not helping your mission. Still though, he’s not making any moves to take over.

“Think you can do it? It’s a big job, baby.”

You nod your head quickly. “I can, Jay.” You assert. “I will.”

He tilts his head at you, smiling. “Alright then, sweetheart. Go ahead.”

This feels like a trap. Maybe it is, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to jump at the opportunity.

In any case, you lay your body fully on top of his and trail kisses across his collar, starting to leave bruises in your wake.

You take his wrists in your hands once again, this time moving them up to pin them beside his head. Now you know he’s just letting you play your game, if not just to see where it goes. Frankly, you’re surprised he’s let you go this far.

It’s a bit silly though, you have to imagine. You, holding down this massive man by his wrists, as if anything you did could do anything to stop him from moving if he wanted to.

You continue to nip at his neck, making sure to pay extra attention where you know he’s sensitive.

He makes a low sound in his throat, something that sounds close to a warning.

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t gotta be so tough all the time.”

The look he gives you lets you know he’s biting his tongue, giving you your chance to play man-in-charge. And you are just playing, really. You don’t know it yet, but he sure as hell does.

“I know it’s hard, but you can let me take care of you for a change, can’t you?”

You start to grind down on him, earning you a low exhale from him. But you want more.

You relax your grip on his wrists and rub soothing circles on his palm, nuzzling your face further into his neck.

It’s enough to make him relax under you, which for him, is a clear sign in him placing his trust in you here. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.

“That’s my boy.” You whisper, kissing his forehead. It’s half condescending, half true to what you know he likes. He loves it when you call him yours, it makes him shut right up and go all heart eyes on you.

You’re basically making out with the sweet spot under his jaw as you move your hips back and forth over his growing hard-on.

With the way his wrists keep flinching under your hand, you can tell that he’s having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Usually when you ride him, he’s all over you, hands caressing your body everywhere he can reach.

If you weren’t testing the limits so much here, you’d reward him for listening to you so well, but you’re not about to bide your time under these circumstances.

You lift up your hips and pull down on his boxers, freeing his length. You don’t do anything yet though, simply ghosting your lips across his cheek.

“Baby…” he groans, but this one’s less of a warning, closer to a plea. Okay, we’re making progress.

You sink down onto him slowly, adjusting to his size proving to be no easy feat from this angle.

He closes his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek as you lower yourself, inch by inch.

Admittedly, this is a lot easier when he’s kissing you and touching you and exactly where you need him, whispering in your ear how good you’re doing for him, what a good girl you’re—no. No. You can do this on your own. You can do this for both of you.

He finally bottoms out and you’re able to begin moving your hips up and down, up and down.

And you try. You really do try, but he’s just so big and even when he’s helping you (which he pointedly is not), riding him is a difficult task.

On a good day it’ll take you out of commission for walking for at least the next few days. Now, you’re not even five minutes in and you can already tell it’s going to be at least a week. Maybe you should’ve waited to do this on a night when he hadn’t already made you come three times with his tongue.

You put your weight into holding his wrists down, hoping it’ll help you gain some traction. It doesn’t do much.

It’s a big job, he said. At the time, you may have been a little idealistic about how this was going to play out. Though, were you even the one who decided to ride him, or did he put you on top? You struggle to pull back the memory now, your body giving the choice of movement or thinking—you can’t have both. Movement it is.

It’s not long before your thighs start to burn and you have to battle just to hold yourself upright. The movement you are able to make just isn’t enough. You can’t go fast enough or take as much of him as you want on each bounce. Though at this point, ‘bounce’ is generous.

Jason’s smile just grows the whole time he watches you struggle, eyes roaming shamelessly up and down your body.

“Aw, poor thing. Can’t do it?” He asks, hand coming up to stroke small circles on your hip with his thumb. This time you don’t stop him—you can’t.

“Jay…” You whine, not ready to endure his teasing. Too bad.

“What, hm? What d’you want? You’re the one in charge sweetheart, do it yourself.”

How the hell did he manage to flip this around? Actually, if you were thinking more clearly right now you’d realize that you never really managed to reverse your original roles at all.

You move your hands to lay flat on top of his chest, a position that isn’t doing you any more favors than the last one.

You throw your head back in frustration, movements halting.

“Not so easy, huh?”

You pout down at him, brows furrowed. He smiles wider and sits up all the way, giving you a sweet kiss. Okay good, he’s going to be nice about this. You hope.

His hand comes up to comb the hair out of your face, forehead resting against yours.

“Tell me what I want to hear.” He whispers.

Oh. You don’t want to. Not after all that game you talked.

You shut your eyes. “Mm…”

“Can’t hear you, baby. Speak up.” He pinches your waist for emphasis.

What are the odds he ever lets you live this down if you give in? What are the odds of him letting you finish if you don’t say it?

Cost. Benefit. Cost. Benefit. Cost…benefit…

Fine.

“You’re in charge.” You mumble defeated, but still making sure to be clear enough that he won’t make you repeat it. Though that’s never a guarantee.

“Oh yeah?”

You open your eyes and meet his teasing gaze through a lowered brow, willing him to go easy on you.

“That’s alright, baby. I can take things over for you.” He says sweetly, kissing the side of your head before pulling out of you.

You gawk at the sudden emptiness in you and move to complain before he flips you on your back, head hitting the pillow with a light thud.

He takes hold of your wrists this time, raising them above your head, pinning them together with one hand.

He uses his other hand to caress up your side, up to the underside of your breast, brushing his thumb back and forth.

“Thought you were my good girl, hm? What happened?”

You stare up at him, not quite able to formulate an answer and not quite sure if he wants an answer.

“Don’t wanna be my good girl anymore? That it?” He asks, brow furrowed with a light pout on his lips.

You shake your head fervently, you do, you really do. You are.

“No, I just—”

“Just wanted to play? Yeah, I remember.”

He lets his hand drift back down your side, dipping past your waist. His knuckles ghost over your clit, not kind enough to grant you any pressure. The teasing brush makes you whine and squirm.

“How ‘bout now, baby? You still wanna play games?”

His hand brushes past again, slower.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m done. I’m done. Please, Jay…”

“Please, Jay…” he mimics, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

He positions himself at your core, sliding back into you tantalizingly slowly. With you as wet as you are, you know he’s not doing it to help you adjust so much as to torture you.

Once he sinks all the way in, he lets out a small groan and squeezes his eyes shut. He begins to move, the return of the sensation feeling like a saving grace.

He starts to pick up his pace, entering a rhythm that you couldn’t have dreamed of achieving when you were on top.

As he continues on, it doesn’t take him long to find that spot, meeting it with accuracy on every stroke.

You let out a broken moan, his hand once again grazing your clit back and forth in reward.

“That it? Right there, baby?” He knows damn well he’s hitting the right spot, he could draw a fucking map at this point.

“Y—yes, Jay. Please, please. Just let me—”

“I know I don’t hear you trying to give orders.” He says, hand snapping away from where you need it.

“No, I—I’m just…please.” You sound honest to God desperate and it’s enough to push his already light resolve to its end.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

His fingers finally touch your clit with intention and that alone is enough to leave you gasping.

He draws circles over your clit just exceptionally, making your breathing speed up and your legs shake in anticipation.

You look up at him, eyes pleading. “Please?” You whisper, breathless.

He squeezes your wrists, gaze still focused on where your bodies meet.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah. Go ahead.”

And it sure is a good thing he said it when he did because you were over the edge like that.

His eyes snap back up to your face the second you start to tighten around him. “There she is.”

He mumbles, eyes scanning your features carefully. “That’s my girl.”

His head drops into your neck, releasing your wrists above your head in favor of holding your hand. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, grip tightening as he comes right after you.

Your free hand comes down to caress the back of his head as he finishes, short hair fluttering between your fingers.

You lay beneath him, chests heaving, bodies both lax.

He kisses your neck once and nuzzles his face in further. “Such a good girl for me. So good.”

You close your eyes and smile, because fuck does that feel good.

[edensrose]

. ۫ᯓᡣ𐭩 satosugu ✧ f reader ˚₊‧꒰ა pick a favourite ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˖ ꯴ ⌇ you left with suguru, but that doesn't mean satoru doesn't try to give you attention whenever he drops by. ꒰ brat taming ˖ fingering ˖ overstim ˖ threesome ꒱

"Oh sweetheart, what happened?"

At the sound of your saviour, you flinched. Wrists strained by some curse that took the shape of binds, leaving you helpless in your nudeness on your shared bed.

Bandages come face-to-face with you. From behind them, you could tell those bright blue eyes stared at you with sadism that didn't reach his faux sympathetic smile. Satoru crooked his head to the violent buzz between your trembled thighs.

His six eyes caught the culprit. A bullet vibrator shoved against your sweetspot. Lowest possible setting to keep you on edge, but never truly push you over.

"Was someone a brat again? Pissed Suguru off?" The bed dipped under his knee as his height leaned over you. You nodded into his palm on your cheek and nuzzled with teary eyes.

"I didn't, promise. . ." What a hiccuped lie. "He's so sooo mean, help toru, please?" You flashed him your most pathetic look. Batting damp lashes and trembled your lips into a pout.

His low hum killed your hope, but cold fingers tracing below your tummy lit it right up again. Your weak hips bucked and you put on your prettiest whine for him.

Suguru might have been a pleasure witholder, but Satoru knew other ways to leave you begging for forgiveness. It's why he lets his hand venture, lets his thumb and ring finger split your folds so his in index and middle can rub slow fingers on your clit.

You sobbed and jerked up into the touch, so he pressed down firmer. The swirls taking a fluid rhythm pitched your moans. "Please — oh please."

"Aww my poor girl. So neglected." Cold kisses felt like fire as he laved them down your neck. Reverent around the mean hickies and bites Suguru left in his frustration. "Gotta tell Sugu to be nicer to my girl huh? Her pussy's too pretty for this."

He swapped his fingers for a thumb and rubbed vertically. A firm, quick stroke that fluttered your poor cunt. Clenching around nothing but the tiny vibrator.

"T-Toru - toru need, need your fingers, please. Pleaseplease."

"Yeah?

A finger slipped in, searching for the buzzing device. His kisses peppered to your face. "Tell me whose your favourite then sweetheart. C'mon."

Was this a trap? You didn't care. Your hips bucked up in another pitiful stutter and you whimpered with a frantic nod. "You - you, it's you - hngh!" In a fluid motion the vibrator was discarded and two long fingers fucked into the gummy bundle of nerves instead.

Satoru grinned and caught your keen between his tongue and teeth. Kissing you almost as fervently as his fingers ploughed your clenching cunt. Spraying your juices and cream all over your jerky thighs.

"Mhhm? Say it again, whose your favourite?"

"You - ! Y-You - you toru, you're my fa - favourite fuckk."

Your tummy taught and your pussy fluttered. No warnings, only a depraved whine as you stuttered up into his pistoning hand and squirted all over. Heat flooding your lungs and cunt in endless streams.

Not once did his pace break. Overstimulation sent your body into squirms and useless escape attempts. "Satoru, Sat - hngh - toruu waiiitt. I can't—"

"Can't?" He crooned, crooking his fingers cruelly to hear you cry. "I'm just givin' you what you want. Just bein' your favourite."

"Favourite huh? My."

You cracked open your teary eyes. Shock drained the pleasure for only a second but you quickly went back to whining when Suguru's rough fingers squeezed around your jaw. Your head's forced back to meet glaring violet eyes.

"That so, brat? Don't give you what you want so you go back to the bastard?" Your nipple fell victim to his rough pinch and you whimpered slurred apologies.

"Oh c'mon Sugu, our girl can't help it if she misses me, huh sweetheart?" Satoru cast you a wink then grinned to the glaring Suguru, who only huffed and leaned over you. The robes of his kesa draped on your heated skin as he pressed a sloppy, sideways kiss to your opened mouth.

"Careful, Satoru." He crooned, deep enough to stutter Satoru's fingers between your gummy walls. "Let's not forget who she chose, hmm?"

It's Satoru's turn to glare. He huffed and ducked to flatten his tongue on your thobby clit and lathe up roughly, groaning at your little keen and second squirt around his fingers.

"Whatever. We'll see who she prefers by the end of the night."

© 𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 . no copying, translation or plagiarism authorised

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 13] With Great Pain

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

The topic of Kyoko never comes up again. It’s an understanding that she’s gone. You never outright ask if the blood that was cleaned up was her own, or if Sukuna simply sent her away. She’s no longer someone that you have to worry about, he reassures you about it. 

To be frank, Kyoko becomes the least of your problems. You forget about her existence, or lack thereof as spring rapidly approaches. Your due date not only nears, but it’s eminently present. You can do nothing on your own anymore, you can barely sit up. Having Sukuna constantly breathing down your neck is actually useful for once. 

“Calm down, Sukuna. The twins are…” You’re cut off by a moan, the twins causing a commotion. It seems that your body has gotten too small for them, they’ll come out any time soon.

Sukuna helps you bathe, putting you on top of him in the water and being as gentle as he can possibly be with you. He’s gentle, yet he keeps pressing on your stomach, hoping to get a reaction from his twins, something that they’ll happily provide.

“You don’t tell me what to do, woman.” He scolds you though he can’t bring himself to use a stern voice. It’s rare when Sukuna brings himself to pity a human, but it seems that his sentiments have changed when it comes to his wife– His very pregnant wife dare he mention. 

“Sukuna, stop.” You tell him, moving his hands from your stomach. Sukuna won’t contradict you, even if you give him an attitude. No one else would dare speak to him in that manner, but he guesses you can do it. It’s actually kind of cute when it comes from you.

“What is it with you? Can’t even touch you without a complaint anymore.” He groans, keeping his to himself. If they go to your breasts, you’ll say they’re tender; if they go to your arms, you’ll say you feel trapped. He can’t put them on your stomach, legs, and not to mention you’ll argue with him for putting his wet hands on your dry hair.

“These babies are ready to come out. It’s unbearable to even breathe.” You respond, and Sukuna fights back a smirk. His boys are strong.

“Want me to carry you out?” He offers, and you sigh. It feels like all your ailments become lighter in the water, and the moment you get out, they’ll come back even worse.

“Can you reach inside of me and pull them out?” You look back at him with a spark in your eyes, and Sukuna would almost grant your wish if it weren’t so ridiculous. He doesn’t answer, instead he stands up, picking you up and carrying you out of the water.

His hand caresses your cheek as he puts you down to dry you off. He reassures you in the best way he knows how to, “They’ll be out any time now.”

A sigh escapes your lips as Sukuna dresses you up. His words serve no comfort. You want this nightmare to be over now. 

“I won’t tell, you know. Just shove your hand in and pull them out. It’ll be their first scolding.” You try to convince him, earning a chuckle from him. He won’t need to. You’re due any day now. This will soon be a distant memory.

“You carry heirs to a king, cherish the moment.” He responds, picking you back up and carrying you back to your room. Servants pass by, their heads lowered during these sensitive days. Sukuna might kill anyone that walks a little too weird, therefore the whole palace attempts to play it safe.

“Will you rub my feet?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes. He’s scolded you for asking the question in public, but he’ll save his breath. He simply hums in response, knowing that he can’t shake that task off to anyone else. 

These last weeks are definitely putting a strain on him as well, luckily, his burden is not as heavy as yours.

Sukuna absolutely hates the fact that he’s given into your whims, because he’s forced to deal with them now when you’re too unwell to do it on your own. The servants can’t do it, you insist that it’s him. It’s his duty as the baby’s adoptive father. And of course, he foolishly gives into it. 

“Shut up, brat.” Sukuna mutters, hoping to stop Yuuji’s crying before the baby wakes you up. It’s hard to get you to sleep lately, the twins keep you up at every hour of the day– And just when you’re shutting your eyes, Yuuji begins a crying fit. 

With Yuuji in his arms, Sukuna nearly darts out of the room and bounces the baby in hopes to soothe him quickly. Sukuna likes to keep his eye on you, now more than ever. However, keeping his eye on you is particularly difficult while he tries to calm down the brat.

“What is it with you? You just love attention don’t you?” Sukuna scolds the brat as the baby cries his little heart out. You fed him and changed him, therefore his issues don’t root in lack of care. Perhaps in lack of love, but that’s not Sukuna is willing to give, especially to a brat that doesn’t carry his own blood. 

“I should eat you.” Sukuna scoffs, bouncing the baby before bringing Yuuji up to his chest. Sukuna slaps the little back as gently as he can, and within a second, he hears a burp and a fart. “Disgusting.”

Sukuna is grossed out, but he continues burping the baby to see if that’s the cause of the wails. To think that you’ll probably force him to do this with the twins. His hands will be full; it’s a good thing he possesses four. As much as he doesn’t like the brat, Yuuji is good practice for when his sons come around.

As Sukuna helps Yuuji with his little issue, he can’t help but roll his eyes. Babies are so stupid. They scream bloody murder over the simplest issue because their bodies can’t solve the issue by itself. He’s never understood why humans find that adorable.

“My king.” Sukuna stops burping the baby when Uraume joins him. Sukuna doesn’t even answer, his eyes simply land on Uraume and he waits for them to speak again. “Your wife woke up with great pain.”

“Order that servant to help with her ailments again.” Sukuna answers, but Uraume shakes their head.

“It’s not that.” They respond which makes Sukuna frown. “It’s time.”

“What are you talking about?” Sukuna questions, until it clicks. Sukuna hands the baby to Uraume without a second thought, rushing over to your side. And in the room where he left you so peacefully sleeping, you’re now taking deep breaths with tears streaming down your eyes. It’s unlike any other pain.

“Sukuna…” You call out to him, watching as he kneels down beside you to wipe away the tears. He doesn’t need to investigate it further, it’s clear that this is it. His hand lands on your stomach, and he fights back the wicked smile on his lips. He’s a good husband, he won’t smile at your misery. 

“They want to come out.” You force out, and he hums in response. One of his hands goes to your stomach and he caresses it as if it’ll help in any way.

You’re sure that this pain is one that no other human has experienced before. It’s almost as if they’re trying to shred your insides to find a way out. He helps you lay back down, hand going to your lower abdomen before he begins to chant something.

You want to push Sukuna away, feeling a growing sense of irritation with whatever he does, but you feel that intense pain fade away with each passing second. When Sukuna takes his hand off you, the pain completely subsides.

“Hina and Uraume will take care of you.” He informs you, and you grab his hand.

“Please, stay. Do that again.” You look at him with tearful eyes, and Sukuna thinks of how to comfort you. He isn’t great at comforting humans, and while he’s become better at the task, by no means is he an expert.

“Uraume will help you.” He responds, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Sukuna, please.” You beg, and he shakes his head.

“I’ll be taking care of Yuuji.” He tells you. “I’ll be just down the hall.”

And even though you want him by your side, hearing that he’ll be taking care of Yuuji calms you down. Sukuna looks around, watching for any wandering ears before turning his attention to you. A surprisingly comforting look. 

“I know if you’ll need anything, and I’ll help you.” He tells you, his subtle way of telling you that he won’t be by your side as you deliver the twins. Though you expected it. 

“Okay–” You’re cut off by a cry of pain. Whatever Sukuna helped you with didn’t last long, his twins are too strong that they defeat it. Though you don’t cry about it this time, instead you glare at Sukuna, his sign to leave.

“Uraume.” Sukuna calls out, exiting the room to leave you with your pain. He won’t mess around with his cursed technique and the twins again, in case of any unspoken risks. “Worst comes to worst, kill them.”

“I beg your pardon, my king?” Uraume furrows their brows, looking at Sukuna with a look of concern.

Sukuna absolutely hates the fact that he has to repeat himself, but he won’t waste time with a useless scolding. He repeats himself, speaking as clearly as ever so Uraume doesn’t ask again, “If it comes to it, kill the twins.”

[emacrow]

The cursed book of ensnared Love.

Raven was re-scouting in the hidden gem of a curse shop for a new book as she had been here before to find rare and exotic spell books along with purple candles that smell like Jasmine.

A cashier girl by the name of Sam with a purple and green line in her hair was bored looking.

There was a new display on set where a blue book with a blue ice looking marble encased in the chest art design of a sleeping ice prince in some type of ice cover.

a small green sign saying in purple cursive writing cursed book, please do not touch without gloves on the side, ask Cashier for more.

Raven took a good look at the cursed book, seeing the book holder stand it was on was completely frozen solid in hardening ice.

Raven went over to ask Sam the Cashier about the book, who flicked her purple eyes at her.

Sam draggingly walk around her counter and stand next to the display in a bored dead tone that most cashier working at 3am would sound like.

"Here we have the cursed book of Ensnared Love once belonging to a tragdy royalty known as the Icy Prince of Far frozen. Legend said that Antarctica and Artic were formed by this book once belonging to a Kindly Prince who had the ability to control ice, some say say he even control space itself."

"His kingdom was made of blue ice, yet not a single person froze in this snowy kingdom for as Long as The Ice Prince had his crown and his ring at hand, the cold will never bothered them anyways." Sam said with a twitch of a smile.

"A beloved prince that the people know will be a great king as his older sister denied the crown, but tragedy was foretold as the prince's advisors, elderly older then ancients wanted power believing the prince will bring ruin to the land but only the prince was too strong, foolish kind and witty to beat every impossible challenge put ahead."

"The advisors decision enough was enough as soon as the Ice Prince's 18th birthday was almost here, they had concocted one last plan to entrapped the Prince to take the crown using a forbidden book that can ensnare even the most powerful beings across the realms. They plan successed but not in the way they had thought as they had hoped."

"For the ice prince opened the book, wearing the crown and the ring, chains immediately grappled him, dragging him into the book by force, that not even his greatest most dangerous ice spell could break them. The book closed shut the moment the ice prince was fully trapped inside, only to be frozen shut in the very last spell the ice prince casted alongside its curse that the book could only open by love." Sam spoke a bit more down as she was reenacting the scene as if she had seen it herself.

"The Advisors didn't know what to do, but with the Ice Prince trapped, the cold became unbearable to the people, their very kingdom, became a death sentence as Nobody could withstand the fatal freezing cold anymore. The book couldn't be grabbed unless by solid white fur gloves or if you wished to turn into a solid status of blue ice."

"This accursed book has been passed down from collector to collector as being in it presence sent chills down your spine like a Ghost, it is not for sale unless it is a equal trade for a curse book to a cursed book by the current owner named Tuck'a'man." Sam finished speaking as she mumbled the last bit, walking back to the cashier.

Raven took one good long stare at the book and a memory flash of Malchior in her thought. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she thought about it.

....

...

..

.

Raven left the cursed shop, a floating bag in a shadow sphere followed behind her. A white book with a circle on the old display.

Sam counted to 100 before she smile brightly, bringing her cup of soda upward as she pressed the com in her hair pin.

"Operation hook up a prince phase 3 is a go, Jazz. Do you think this would work?" Sam said, sipping her soda a bit.

"If this doesn't work, then he stuck in that book until we go to the next dimension?"

"Yep, that the plan."

[empresskylo]

can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.

featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro

⊹ cod men x gn!reader

[ warnings ] domestic violence implications

cod masterlist

Ghost

He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower. 

“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level. 

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you. 

You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.

A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.

“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.

You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed. 

“Who?” He asked sharply.

You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.

“ Who… ?” You repeated.

“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him. 

“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”

“Ghost, please.”

He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.

You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down. 

Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.  

Price

You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”

He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly. 

You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with. 

Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower. 

His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance. 

His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”

“John, I–”

He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”

A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body. 

You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”

Soap

“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day. 

“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile. 

He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!” 

He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure. 

“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice. 

“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes. 

Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile. 

“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.

Gaz

Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you. 

“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled. 

“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.  

“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face. 

Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.

“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes. 

“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders. 

“Hey,” he said calmly. 

You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.

“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”

“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair. 

You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go. 

König

He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.

He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did. 

He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions. 

Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.

“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse. 

“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little. 

He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig. 

Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively. 

“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair. 

You nodded. “M’sorry.”

He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek. 

“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him. 

“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig. 

Alejandro

“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted. 

“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad. 

He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear. 

Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear. 

“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”

Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?” 

You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”

He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”

You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling. 

[holybibly]

The unholy hour of the day, my sugar bunnies: Weirdo nerd Seonghwa has had a fondness for you for a long time, perhaps too much to be normal. So when he sees you on a crowded subway carriage, he takes the opportunity to pay his respects to you.

Warnings: Pervert nerd! Seonghwa, sub!reader, non-consensual groping, dubious consent, obsessive crush, light yandere, forced masturbation, light dub con

'Please be careful; the doors are closing'. The monotonous, mechanical voice of the underground's automated announcement system echoes through the carriage, almost completely lost in the noise of the crowd. The tube is packed, but at this time of day, that's to be expected. You hated taking the train at rush hour, but unfortunately your classes always ended at that time, and you had no choice but to use the Tube to get home, even though it felt like hell at that time, rather than a comfortable and fast ride. 

You always travelled the same way. Day after day, month after month, and in all this time nothing has changed about your trip. Firstly, the subway was always crowded, and having lived in Seoul for the last two years, you'd already gotten used to that. Secondly, there are never any seats when you get on, so you always have to stand. You even somehow managed to put up with the fact that you were always being pushed or squeezed into a corner, which you managed to squeeze into despite the carriage being almost full.

Today was no different at all. You let out a heavy sigh and made your way to the nearest available handrail in the far corner as you were pushed for what seemed like the hundredth time when the carriage doors hissed open and a new stream of passengers poured in. You grabbed hold of the cold metal handrail, trying to take up as little space as possible, while other passengers squeezed past you or kept changing their position in an attempt to get the most convenient and comfortable seat. Someone's elbow is resting on your rib, and you frown, trying to move as far away as possible, which only makes you squeeze harder into the corner. But there's not enough room, and you shriek slightly as the pressure on your ribs increases. The girl next to you bows her head, apologising as she hears this, and moves away from you, finally allowing you to breathe normally. You let out another sigh, clutching your bag tightly to your chest and gripping the handrail even tighter as the train continues to rush forward.

Just a little longer, you say to yourself, eight more stops to go and you'll finally be able to get out of here. 

Once again you hear the mechanical hissing of the doors and the automated voice warning the passengers to be more careful, and it seems to you that the carriage has become even more cramped, but it still does not prevent you from trying to adapt in some way. Dozens of people get on and off at each stop, and you're pushed again, but this time relatively gently. It doesn't matter anyway, you're used to it and ready to just brush it off, but someone's broad, cold hand rests on your bare thigh, just where the edge of your pleated skirt ends. For a second, you feel the stranger's fingers slide over your soft skin under your short skirt, and your breath catches in your throat, your heart beginning to beat faster with each passing moment. This can't be happening, can it? Maybe you're just imagining it? The stranger's cold touch on your thighs fades away as suddenly as it came, but it's enough to make you feel the cold lingering on your skin for a long time afterwards.

"You're so beautiful." A soft, velvety voice whispers from behind you, and you almost jump at the sound. 'So beautiful…' The carriage you're in is packed to the point that you can barely turn your head back to look at whoever that voice belongs to, which one makes goosebumps crawl across your skin. Your eyes widen as you see behind you none other than university oddish nerd Park Seonghwa, who is literally trapping you in a crowded subway car. He's too close to you. Close enough to be intimate. 

Not that you had a bad opinion of Seonghwa; no, he was a relatively nice and harmless guy, but there was still something about him that made people stay away from him. Maybe it was the too intense and focused look in his dark cat eyes, or maybe it was his slightly odd behaviour that was hard to explain; either way, Park Seonghwa was not popular, even though he was pretty, and not just pretty, but really handsome, as if sculpted by the hand of a great master. Another thing that put people off him was that he was a real nerd and had an obsession with Lego and Animal Crossing. You didn't see much of him in your classes, even though you were in the same study group as him; from what you heard, he was in an advanced class and was more likely to jerk off to textbooks than girls. In general, you didn't know much about him other than the gossip you heard from your friends. 

''S-Seonghwa, let me go, please…'' Your voice trembles slightly as you turn to him. There is a strange expression frozen on his handsome face, one that you are unable to decipher. He looks drunk—his big eyes are blurry and unfocused, his mouth is open from heavy breathing, his cheeks are flushed, and there is a bead of sweat on his forehead. There is obviously something wrong with him, but Seonghwa is a good guy, isn't he? He wouldn't do anything to hurt you, or at least you wanted to believe that. 

You don't hear him answer as the train makes a sharp turn and Seonghwa pushes you against the wall of the carriage, his body pressed tightly against yours. You freeze, like a mouse caught in the claws of a cat, as you feel his cold hands squeeze your soft, plump thighs, right under your buttocks. You tug at the hem of your skirt in an attempt to push Seonghwa's hands away from you, but he doesn't let you go; instead, his fingers dig harder into your flesh even more, and you're sure you'll be bruised afterwards. You feel the fast, erratic beating of his heart against your back as he leans into you, as if he's trying to melt into you, to become one with your body.

"I'm sorry…' He whispers to you again, his hot breath brushing your ear and his sensual, full lips touching your soft, thin skin with each letter. You've always admired his lips—so full and kissable—and you've even wondered what they would feel like when he kissed you, but right now you wish you could erase that touch from your skin forever. Something hard and intimidatingly large presses against your lower back as he grips your hips tighter, literally piling on top of you. The sickly sweet smell of strawberries and cream invades all of your senses, and you find yourself trapped between the dirty wall of the subway car and the hard, hot body of Seonghwa. You've never noticed how tall he is compared to you—you're invisible behind him; nobody can see what he's doing to you. "I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it… You're too beautiful… too beautiful for me to control myself. I'm so sorry…' He lowers his head onto your shoulder, his long black hair tickling the skin on your neck as you stare unblinkingly into the dirty wall, terror running through you to the bone, rendering you completely immobile as Seonghwa pushes his hips into you, fucking your arse on the crowded train like a dog in heat.

Your lips begin to tremble, hot tears gathering in your eyes, threatening to spill out and run down your cheeks, smearing your make-up, as Seonghwa's one hand slides up the curve of your hip and higher up your waist, your ribs, over the thin lace of your bra to cradle your right tit. 

'Oh fuck...' Seonghwa hisses as he squeezes the soft flesh of your breast in the palm of his hand. His fingers pull the cup of your bra down so that your tit is completely exposed. "Exactly as I thought... your tits are so big and soft. I want to fuck them so badly. I want to come on your tits; cover them with my sperm. I want to suck on your fucking tits while you are riding on me, angel." He continues to rub his cock against your plump buttocks, whimpering into your skin. 

'N-no, please don't, Seonghwa. Please stop it...' You sob, hoping that your pathetic pleas will bring him to his senses. But it seems to have the exact opposite effect, making him even more aroused. You tremble at his touch as Seonghwa continues fucking you, his rough hand caressing your naked breasts, his hard cock sliding between your buttocks through his jeans and skirt. 

"Please move away from the doors." The train stops, the mechanical hiss of the doors hissing through the crowd. You pray that Hwa will let you go, but he doesn't. For a moment, he stops pushing into you and keeps you pressed up against the wall. His breath is unpleasantly warm against your ear, making you shiver.

'Seonghwa...' You try once more. "Seonghwa, please let me go. I won't tell anyone... I promise. Please leave me alone..." The tears begin to flow freely down your face as you continue to beg him to let you go. But Seonghwa is completely unresponsive; instead, he starts to leave wet, smeared kisses on your neck. His lips are soft, too soft, like down pillows, unpleasantly slippery and wet from copious amounts of saliva mixed with lip balm as cloying strawberry as he is. From the outside, you probably look like a couple deeply in love. Seonghwa is protective, wrapped around you like a snake, and to everyone else, he looks like a caring guy. If only they knew...

The thought of screaming crosses your mind, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared when the train starts moving again and Hwa slips his other hand under your shirt and wraps it around your left breast. His hand greedily squeezes the soft flesh over the thin lace of your bra before he pulls it down as well, exposing your tits to the full extent. You hate yourself for the fact that his touch is causing your nipples to begin to tense and your pussy to clench around nothing. You've always been hypersensitive, and that's generally nothing unusual, but this situation...

You shouldn't react like this; you don't want Seonghwa to touch you; you don't want to feel his hands on your body, but then why are you biting your lip and trying your best to suppress the obscene sounds that are coming out of your mouth right now? 

"That's it, Angel. I'll make you feel good. I'll be worshipping you, pretty girl, the way I've always wanted to be. And you can't blame me for that; you've got everything to blame yourself for. You're too beautiful, too beautiful for me to let you go..." Seonghwa's hands, gently rocking your breasts as if he could feel the weight of them, his fingers running over your aureoles, stimulating you while avoiding your swollen nipples.

You sob loudly as you feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You don't want to give in to the pleasure that is growing deep inside you, especially not in the presence of so many people and even less so in Seonghwa's hands, but there is nothing you can do about it. He gives you a sharp pinch on your nipples as the mechanical voice announces the name of the next stop, and it covers up the moan that escapes from your lips. 

"You feel so good, angel." He whispers to you in a velvety voice.  "Your little nipples are so hard and tender. I want to take them into my mouth and suck them until you come. I'm sure I can make you come just from that." Seonghwa's voice is full of dark promise, and it makes more and more moisture pour out of your hole. Shame washes over you like a wave, and you cover your eyes, trying to come to terms with the unwanted pleasure that is growing inside of you. You clench your hands tighter around your bag as Hwa continues to play with your breasts. Squeezing and massages them, rubbing and pinching your nipples, at the same time leaving hot, painful hickeys on your neck. "You were made for me, my angel. I always knew it. I knew it the moment I saw you." One of his hands releases your breasts and slides down your body. Your eyes go wide in horror as you realise where Seonghwa's hand is going, but it's too late because... He slides his hand easily between your thighs, wrapping your pussy, over the lace of the thong, whose fabric is soaked with your slime. 

"Look at you; you're all wet for me."

'I-I'm not, please, just stop...' For the first time since Seonghwa cornered you, you try to resist him. Your hand trembles as you try to pull his hand off your cunt, but Hwa just pushes it away. Then you start to wriggle in his grip, trying to push him away from you, but it doesn't help. Seonghwa is bigger and stronger than you, and all your movements instead make you rub your wet pussy harder against his palm between your thighs.

"Don't be embarrassed about it, angel. You just have to admit that you want it just as much as I do."

The train stops again, and Seonghwa takes the opportunity to pull the wet lace of your thong aside, exposing your smooth, plump pussy to his touch. You can't hold back a moan as his fingers outline a figure of eight around your clit. 

"Please... Seonghwa... you don't have to do this." You sob, lowering your head to somehow hide the way your cheeks are flushed from everything he's doing to you. 

'But how can I, angel? You're so ready for me...' He pulls his hand away from your pussy for a second and brings them up to your face. You watch in horror as he spreads his fingers, pulling strands of your arousal between them before they break apart, coating his long appendages with your stickiness. "You see that? Your slutty pussy is all wet and sticky; how can I ignore it?" You barely manage to hold back a loud moan as Seonghwa slides his hand down and, without any preamble, pushes two fingers into your wet cunt. The stretching stings, but with it comes pleasure. It's clouds your mind and overshadows any sense of decency or shame. Seonghwa begins to fuck you, twisting his fingers inside you and stroking your slippery, trembling walls with slightly calloused fingertips. Over the din of the other passengers' voices, you can almost hear the squelching of your unacceptably wet pussy.

"You are so tight, my angel. I should stretch your cunt before you take my cock. I'll do my best; we don't want your sweet pussy to be in pain, do we?" With these words, Seonghwa inserts another finger into you.

Everything in you shrinks in shame as the pleasure becomes too much to ignore—your legs spread so Hwa can fuck you harder and deeper, his finger pads pressed against your sweet spot, and your eyes roll back at the sharp pleasure coursing through your body.

It's disgusting, no, it's more than disgusting, and deep inside you despise yourself for giving yourself up to him so easily, for not putting up any resistance at all to Seonghwa, for letting him fuck you so expertly with his long fingers. 

[softsunnyy]

hi babies. As i announced yesterday, with this post i'll officially go on semi-hiatus. With this, i'll try to write all the requests from the beginning of april until now.

my asks will remain open, in case you wanna talk or make requests. However, the requests will have to wait until i finish everything.

thank u so much for all the support you've given this blog; right now there are more than 500 of u, and i don't even understand why :(♡

this contains:

🚨 baby trapping, cumming inside you, oral sex, denying orgasm, jealousy, possessiveness, kinda dark!jack. And i think that's most of it, but if you think i missed something, please let me know, i'm trying to fix the warnings. 🚨

poorly written

Jack can see how he looks at you, how his eyes travel over your hips, your waist, your tits. And he knows you don't notice, or at least it doesn't seem like it, because you're still dancing with your friends, completely oblivious to the guy who's been staring at you from the bar for minutes, never taking his eyes off your body.

and Jack sighs, tries to be rational, to remember that you're his, that you´re in that place literally because of him and the team, his friends, after the win over the rangers thanks to a goal he scored. And he wants to be cocky about it, to feel like the man, but a pang in his chest makes it hard for him to stay calm.

he watches the scene with too much attention now, no longer listening to what his friends are saying.

the thought of another man looking at you, touching you, even thinking he has a chance, is enough to get him moving, walking up to you, putting his hands on your waist, making you jump, only calming down when you see him.

after giving him a peck, you start dancing once more, this time against his body, rubbing yourself, letting your dress slide, higher and higher, and Jack knows, he knows that guy is watching, that he's enjoying seeing your exposed skin, and instead of enjoying it himself, it only fuels his anger, making his hands manipulate your body, forcing you out of there, ignoring your questions, your whines, your bright, confused eyes searching for an explanation for his rough touch.

and he gives you a vague answer, but it's enough for you to understand that right now you should just follow him, let him take you where he needs to, and so you do, walking beside him, letting him put you in his car, taking you back to his house, while you try to remember, to think about what could have happened, without coming up with an answer.

is he just horny?

you don't know, and you're so lost in your thoughts that you jump once more when he opens the door to help you out of the car.

now, Jack waits until he's inside, until he closes the door, to turn and talk to you about the guy, about how his eyes roamed over your body as if you wanted to be seen. And even though his words were laced with venom, you know the only one he's really trying to offend is that boy, while he glares at you with his eyes filled with fury and arousal.

because you see it, the way his cock starts to get hard while he begins to sweat, his eyes dilating, his jaw clenched.

the way you moved, how you rolled your hips, ignoring people, seeking contact with his body. Jack can't forget that. But he also can't let go of the fact that another man enjoyed that sight too.

and the thought alone makes him want to destroy you.

so it doesn't take long for him to have you on your knees, swallowing his cock. Your cheeks wet with your hot, fat tears of pleasure, while your throat burns, you gag and try to swallow it all, with your hand playing with his balls.

“i bet you knew, you knew someone was watching you,” he said between small moans, his hand in your hair, guiding your moves, making you choke. “Did you enjoy being a whore?” you tried to respond, but you could only whimper. Your sounds dying against his cock. And he smiled a little, but his smile was completely bitter. “Bet you did.”

and you wanna be patient and good, but unconsciously you start rubbing against the carpeted floor, trying to relieve the tension in your pussy, while your panties begin to stick to your skin, completely soaked.

you didn’t know what had happened in that place before Jack told you, but if you had known he was gonna react this way… maybe you would have tried a little harder.

because it’s so hot, the way the vein in his neck is visible, while his jaw clenches so hard every time he remembers it that his teeth feel like they’re about to explode.

and his hand in your hair is demanding, his gaze is sharp, intimidating, and makes you feel small, but in a good way.

when Jack gets like this, it's fun, unexpected. And don't get me wrong, you enjoy sweet and loving sex, and doing things slowly, carefully, with time, but this? this is different, and you crave that feeling of your swollen, irritated pussy, your legs shaking, and your nipples so hard it hurts.

so you let him keep going, keep feeding his anger with every second, while he uses your throat to hammer inside you, sliding his cock on your tongue, letting you feel the full weight of it.

and you want him to cum, to drown in his thick white strands that always caress your throat like honey, making it all worth it. But he doesn't seem to have the same plans, because just when he seems close, he pulls his cock out of your mouth, making you gasp, your expression showing disappointment and discontent.

and he laughs at you, at your desire, and makes you lie down on the couch you recently bought, making you rest your face against the fabric, with your ass raised and your panties, several shades darker, stuck to your skin.

“i didn't even touch you.” he smiles, running his fingers through your folds, wetting them through the fabric of your underwear, making a wet, obscene sound that made him smile even wider. “Is this all for me? or did you just enjoy being a whore in front of our friends too much?”

you whimpered, unconsciously moving your body back, seeking some contact, feeling your cheeks burn. “Just for you, Jack…” you moan, but it's so low and weak that he slaps your ass, making you flinch.

“didn't hear you, pretty. Who are you saying it's for?” he´s smiling, you know it even though you can't see it, and he teases your folds again, now reaching your clit, rubbing you through the fabric.

“for you!! fuck…” you whimper, your hole throbbing, your clit sensitive from all the time you spent trying to stimulate yourself.

“mhm, i don’t know…” you hear him say, while you feel him slowly pull down your underwear, seeing your shiny and soaked pussy, ready to receive him, like always “i don’t believe you” he declares, running two of his fingers through your folds until he slides inside your hole, going as deep as he could, drawing a loud moan from you.

you feel his long fingers, welcomed with pleasure by your tight walls that throb, expand, and suffocate them. And he doesn't even give you time to prepare, because he immediately starts moving them, sliding them in and out quickly, making your fluids splash and your legs tremble.

and he's normally slow, careful, and takes the foreplay very seriously, even when he's angry. But now he's rough, wild, and careless. As if he doesn't really care how much he's helping you, but rather seeks to increase your pleasure.

and he succeeds, because you moan, your walls throbbing, your eyes squeezed shut, and his name rolling on your tongue like a broken record.

Jack feels powerful because he feels how every second you're wetter, more lost, your mind clouded, your thoughts everywhere, your body completely surrendered now. But even so, he waits until the first tears begin to appear, and then he starts rubbing your clit, bringing you closer to your orgasm, letting the knot form and making you feel confident. However, just as you were about to release, he slid his fingers out of your pussy, making you open your eyes in panic, begging him to let you cum, and promising that you'd be good, that you'd pay for what you did.

oh, but he has plans, don't worry.

you didn't have to beg for too long, because soon his cock was forcing its way into your walls, expanding them so roughly that a broken moan came from your throat.

your hands form fists, gripping the fabric of the couch as he begins to move, instantly finding his rhythm. And he's rough, without a single drop of mercy, making his thighs hit your skin, making it turn reddish while his hands grip your ass, leaving the marks of his fingers as his mind drifted further and further into madness.

you can't leave him. He won't be able to tolerate you abandoning him, you no longer belonging to him. Your body is his, your mind is his. He's the only one who should be able to see you like this.

he was your first kiss, your first time. He's the only one who should be able to claim your body.

the thought of someone else putting their hands on you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you giggle and blush like you do with him, sickens him, making him wild, more primal, not even focused on your moans, on how you tell him how good it feels, how deep it goes, how perfect it is.

god, he's even missing the bulge in your belly, the way his tip hits your cervix again and again, the way he's abusing that sensitive little sponge inside you that has you drooling, fucked stupid.

he's missing it because a new idea came to his mind, and he can't stop thinking about it.

the two of you have always been careful, he's always respected you, and even when he's fucking you raw, he doesn't cum inside you. He knows you want to wait, give him time for his career to fully stabilize. But he always thinks about how it would look, your pussy releasing strips of his thick cum, staining your folds, your thighs. Always thinks about how you would feel walking everywhere with his cum inside your sweet, tight pussy.

and maybe this is the chance.

you wouldn't hesitate, you wouldn't realize how close he is, you'd just have to take it. And you're so fucked stupid that you'll only be able to drool, whimper, and moan, but not stop him. And he'll be able to fill you, leave you so full again and again that there'll be no doubt a life will begin to form in your womb.

so you won't be able to leave him.

you'll be joined to him, carrying a tiny version of you both for months.

he can imagine you, round, full, with swollen tits and sensitive nipples. The image alone could make him drool and cum now. But he can't; it has to be you first.

so he keeps going, using one hand to rub your clit, making your eyes roll back, a dark stain from your drool and tears on the couch, and your legs shaking, spasming, completely useless.

you moan, trying to think of something coherent, but when the knot forms it doesn't take long for it to explode, and as you cum, you hear him whisper in your ear, showering you with sweet nothings.

“you want me to fill you? bet you'd look beautiful with my cum sliding out of your pussy.” the thought makes you whimper, trying to nod, even though you don't really understand the gravity of those actions. You just want to be filled, to receive everything he has to give you.

“i need words, my love, i need you to say it,” he sighed, trying to control himself, to resist even though the ideas kept coming to him.

“please…” you sob, trying to look at him, your eyes glassy. “Fill me, Jack.”

and he closes his eyes for a couple of seconds, too affected by the way you said it. “You're gonna look so beautiful holding my baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your head before he began to fill you.

and you can't deny it. The sensation is different, but it's delicious, dangerously addictive, and you scold yourself for ever asking him not to cum inside you, because now you want him to do it all the time.

but don't worry… he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon tonight.

you're not gonna leave him. Not for that guy. Not for anyone.

you'll be his forever, even if he has to trap you with him, even if he has to cum inside you again and again. Just to be sure, of course.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 12

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky takes you off the counter. You yelp again. His strength is as terrifying as that gleam in his eye. He is the very wolf he claims to be.

He carries you through the door and down the hall. You reach out to catch the frame as he kicks through your bedroom door. He grunts and yanks you just enough to bend your fingers back. You grasp onto his shoulders and writhe, whining as he marches across the room.

He drops you on your back and your chest bounces. You roll over and flail for the far side of the mattress. You push your knees into the bed only for him to grab your ankles and haul you back. He flips you around and straddles you. You bat at him as he easily swats away your hands. He catches your wrists and pins them next to your head.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he snarls as he bends over you.

"But you are," you hiss and jerk your body, trying to get him off. "Bucky, don't do this. Please."

"I'm not..." he blinks and tilts his head back and forth. Frustration lines his face. "Doll, I'm not hurting you."

He drags your arms straight and clutches your wrists in his metal hand. His other traces down the length of your arm and tickles your torso. Once more, he fondles your chest, humming as he raises himself slightly, his pelvis rocking subtly over yours. His chest tautens as the softer flesh above his belt bulges over.

He purrs and tickles down your stomach. You whimper and wriggle helplessly. He squeezes your wrists until you're still, the metal plates pinching your flesh. You look down at his touch as it crawls closer to your pants. 

He tugs free the drawstring of your linen pants. He angles his hand as he dips his fingers under the fabric. He slides back as he crawls down your pelvis. He pets the tuft of coiled hair there. You heave and quiver as you clamp your thighs tight.

He forces down between your legs, scratching you as he pushes between your folds. You gasp and spasm as he flicks along your clit. You bite down as your eyes fill with tears. He rolls around your cluster of nerves and your horror trickles down your cheek as you lock up in futility. You can only watch how he takes you over.

His chest rises and falls as his eyes focus on the movement of his hand. He rises on his knees just a little and bites his lip. The muscles in his arms move beneath his skin as he teases you.

Your thighs tremble as the pressure furls around his touch, trapped in your core as you try to breathe through you, try to blow it away. You turn your head back and forth as your resistance falters with each swirl of his fingertips. He purrs as he urges you on.

"That's it, doll, relax." He coaxes you in a grizzly timbre. "You been so good to me, let me be good to you."

"Bucky..." you quaver and gulp. "Please..."

"You're almost there," he cooes.

"No," you close your eyes and push your head down into the mattress. 

Your back arches and you tilt your pelvis against his hand. You quake as you're overcome by the swell, lost in the tides of pleasure that dampen your fear. Your voice drifts from between panting breaths. Your cum smears down his fingers as they glide lower and poke around your entrance.

He slips inside of you and you groan. He moves off of you, kneeling beside you as he rocks his hand. He pushes against your clit as you shudder and moan. He curls his fingers and pushes until you feel a heat blooming in you, mingling with the twisting in your pelvis. You spasm as you cum again, urged through by his steady rhythm.

He doesn't relent. You peek out from beneath your heavy lashes. He watches his hand between your legs. He builds a tempo again; slowly, slowly, slowly, Your thighs clench, your walls you. You throw your arm over your face to hide as your back arches. The ripples of your next climax crash over you and strangle your voice from your lungs.

He rolls his thumb over your clit as you groan. You reach down and weakly try to push his hand away. "Please," you croak.

He hushes you as he flicks your bud one last time. You twitch. He drags his fingers out of you and smears them down your thighs. He inhales and it gristles in his throat. He stands and pushes down his jeans.

Dizzily, you flip yourself again. You stretch your arm to the edge but can't move yourself away from him. The bed dips behind you and he grabs above your elbow. He puts you on your back again. You go rigid as he brings himself over you. He pets your face as he bends to hover just above your lips.

He nuzzles you as he frames your face. His thumb strokes your cheekbone and his breath plume around you. His nose brushes up the bridge of yours as he inhales your scent. He places a firm kiss on your forehead. You shiver.

He puts his lips above your brow and presses with a hum. He lays a trail of kisses all around as the tension strengthens his hands. He dabbles along your cheekbones, your jaw, and back to your lips. The last, he pushes his tongue through and smothers you.

When at last he parts, he leans his forehead on yours. He sighs. "I need you, doll."

You gulp and feel blindly across the bed. You trail up his sides and to his shoulders. You follow his arms down to his grip on your jaw. You squeeze his wrists and bat your lashes.

"Bucky," you murmur. "Please, if you stop now..."

He closes his eyes as he looms over you. He lets out a long breath as his thumbs pet your cheekbones. He growls.

"You don't get it," he breathes, "I can't stop."

He trembles as he shifts to straddle you further down. He peels one hand away from your jaw and plants it on the mattress. His other, he slips down to your throat. You lock up and stare up at him helplessly.

He lifts one knee as he leans on his other. He pushes against your legs until they part. You whine as an icy flow runs up to your core. He brings his other knee inside of yours and urges them wide. He dips his pelvis down until his hard length is against you. He rocks his hips slowly, rubbing against you as he snarls.

He falls to his elbow and drops his head to watch himself. He chokes out tight groans as he teases you and himself. You bring a hand to his bulging metal bicep and the other to his shoulder. You whimper.

"Bucky," you rasp as he slides back and angles down so his tip prods at you.

"Shhhh," he keeps himself above you on the strength of his metal arm and his other hand drifts down to your chest.

He gropes your tits as he watches himself, tilting his pelvis as he pokes you still. He feels along your soft stomach and traces from your hip to pelvis. He turns his hand and curls two fingers down to frame your cunt. He pushes your folds apart and snags his tip between his knuckles. You pull your hand from his shoulder and slp his chest in a panic.

Before you can issue his name, he sinks into you. Just his tip. Stretching you to a whine. You bite down on your lip as his hair tickles your face. He growls as slowly lets his weight down, inching into you as he watches the intrusion. He quakes as you dig your nails into his flesh and hiss.

Deeper and deeper, until you're light-headed and raw. He bottoms out and gasps. Your walls are tight around him, ragged and radiating. He lowers himself completely, smothering you with his body. He stays buried to his limit, not moving as he pants like a wild animal. You can't move, you can only squirm around him.

[voxslays]

The night I found you.

Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, after death, Alastor finds you (his wifey) again, but at what cost?

Warnings: Smut, Dub-Con, Tentacles, AFAB! Reader, Alastor being a jerk.

A/N: Today has been stressful. I just got locked out of the google account I used for this tumblr account—yet somehow managed to stay signed in. Anyways, if I one day dissapear I probably got locked out again. Anyways, this is a part two of this fic. Hope you enjoy!

Years later, in the infernal depths of Hell, a twisted version of Alastor now known as the Radio Demon hunts from the shadows. His eyes, once filled with warmth and love, now gleam with malice and cruel amusement. But he had been missing for seven years. You knew Alastor would come looking for you eventually, but it had been almost ninety years since your deaths. Why hadn’t he come sooner? You assumed he didn't care. How wrong you were…

You were taking a relaxed stroll on the sidewalk, minding your own business, until you heard a familiar voice. A voice you knew all too well; Alastor. He had found you. You turn around just in time to see Alastors wicked grin, his voice a seductive purr over the static of his radio. “Well, well...If it isn't my darling little doe, finally come to join me in the eternal flames.” He chuckles darkly. “I've missed you, my sweet.” He slowly steps closer. 

He looks different. He still has the same tall, slender frame. But now, his skin is a light, grayish-tan, and he has a wide, toothy grin filled with sharp yellow teeth. He sports small, curved antlers reminiscent of those on a deer, which contribute to his imposing presence, and his eyes—which used to be a beautiful chocolate brown color—are now a bright, glowing red.

“Alastor…?” You say his name as if it's a question. Alastor tilts his head slightly, his red eyes narrowing as he gazes at you. "Oh, ma chéri...It's been so long. And look at you, just as beautiful as the day I... " He trails off, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Well, you know." He steps closer, the air around him crackling with static. "Did you like it, Y/N? Did you like how it felt? The sting of the blade?" He chuckles darkly. "I still remember the way you screamed... “ He takes another step closer. “Stop.” You say firmly, almost at your breaking point. ​​“But I've barely begun, my darling.”  

He reaches out and gently caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch is ice-cold, and his skin feels like rough, parched leather.  "And now, we can be together forever." You smack his hand away. “Don't touch me.” ​​Alastor’s grin widens menacingly, baring his sharp teeth. "Feisty, just like old times."  He circles you like a predator, his voice a low purr. "You can't run from me now, my dear. We're trapped here together, for all eternity..."

“Our marriage ended the moment you decided to murder me.” You snap at him. Alastor stops circling and stands in front of you, his red eyes burning with an otherworldly intensity. "Our marriage ended the moment I realized you were a weakness, a liability," he corrects, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re truly sick.” You spit. Alastor lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Sick? Yes. In love? Still. Eternal."  He reaches out and grabs your throat, lifting you off your feet. "And now, you'll see what I've become. What I've done."

Alastor squeezes your throat, his grip like a vice, and you can feel your airway closing. He starts to lift you higher, your feet dangling in the air, until you're staring directly into his burning red eyes. "Look at me, Y/N." His grip tightens, his other hand coming up to grip your hair, forcing your head back. "I want you to see the monster I've become, the monster that will never let you go." His voice is a guttural growl, his breath hot against your face.

“I could never love a monster.” You manage to choke out. He drops you unceremoniously to the ground, leaving you gasping. "Love?" He spits the word like it's poison. "Love is a weakness I can no longer afford. But you, my dear Y/N, you're my eternal obsession." You take off the ring and throw it into a nearby drain. He watches as the gold band spins and disappears down into the sewer. Alastor’s expression darkens. "You shouldn't have done that."  

He slowly walks over to you, his movements predatory. "That ring was a symbol of our love. Now, it's a symbol of your disrespect." Alastor summons one of his tentacles, which retrieves the ring and places it into his hand. He forces the ring back onto your finger, his tentacle squeezing your hand until the metal bites into your skin. "It stays on your finger, a constant reminder of your love for me, and my ownership over you." He releases your hand, stepping back to admire the ring.

You try to remove the ring, but it won't budge. He chuckles as you try to remove the ring, his magic holding it firmly in place. "My power—among other things—has enchanted the ring to stay on your finger until I decide otherwise. And I have no intention of removing it anytime soon." He reaches out to stroke your cheek. Alastor caresses your cheek, his touch gentle despite the rough texture of his skin. "You're mine, Y/N. In life, in death, and in this endless nothingness between." He leans in closer, inhaling deeply. 

"You still wear the same perfume. Lavender and vanilla." This only makes you angrier. “It’s not for you.” You spit at him. "Always so defiant." He pulls you into a tight hug, his tentacles wrapping around you like chains. "I love it when you fight back." Alastor tightens his grip, his muscular arms constricting around your body. "Shhh, just relax." He nuzzles into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I've missed holding you like this. Your struggles only make it better."

He teleports you to his bed, falling onto it with you still wrapped in his tentacles. He pins your arms above your head, his tail wrapping around your legs to keep them open. "You're so beautiful when you're helpless." Alastor grins wickedly, his eyes flashing with a predatory hunger. "I'm going to savor every moment of having you at my mercy again." His free hand roams your body, squeezing and caressing. "And you'll learn to love it, just like before." 

"Remember the good times, Y/N?"  He grinds himself against you, his hard length evident through his trousers.  "Remember how we used to spend our nights?” He leans in and kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You give into the kiss. He withdraws from the kiss, smiling as he sees the change in your expression. "Good girl."  He releases your arms, his tentacles keeping your legs spread wide. "Leave the ring on."  He unbuckles his pants, his member springing free.

Alastor settles himself between your thighs, the tip of his erection pressing against your entrance. "Wrap your arms around my neck."  He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "And tell me you love me."  His tail coils possessively around your legs, his muscles taut with anticipation. You do as he asks, wrapping your arms around him, and whispering an ‘I love you’ into his ear. Satisfied, he pushes forward, sheathing himself inside you in one powerful thrust. "Fuck, I've missed this."  He buries his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he starts to move, his hips snapping against yours in a brutal rhythm.

"You feel so good..." He hisses, his voice low and feral. His tentacles crawling up your body to hold your arms down again. "You're mine, Y/N. All mine." He increases his pace, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Alastor lifts your hips to give him deeper access. "Say you love me."  He growls, his voice hoarse with desire. You cry out. 

At the sound of your cry, Alastor loses control. He pounds into you relentlessly, his member throbbing inside you as he reaches his climax. Alastor roars as he releases a torrent of cum deep within your pussy. “Mine." His tentacles squeeze you tightly as he rides out his orgasm, his tail thrashing wildly. His hot seed filling your womb as his tentacles tighten their grip. He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving. Alastor’s tentacles loosen their grip, but still keep you pinned. "You're perfect."  He murmurs, nuzzling into your neck. His softening member still inside you, plugging his seed in your pussy.

Alastor slowly pulls out, his cum dripping from your well-used hole. He scoops some up with his fingers and pushes it back inside you. "Keep my seed inside you." Alastor commands, a dark glint in his eye. "I want to make sure it takes." He murmurs. “What?” You ask confused. He grins wickedly, his eyes filled with dark amusement. "I think it's time we start a family, Y/N. A little demonling running around will keep me entertained when you're not around."  He crawls back on top of you, his arms wrapping around your waist possessively.

You knew what this meant. This was Alastor’s way of tying you down. Making sure you couldn't escape. You had absolutely no choice in the matter. The only answer Alastor would accept is ‘yes.’

You groaned. “Do I have a choice?” The answer was no. You knew it. Alastor chuckles, his warm breath fanning over your face. "No, you don't. You're mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure my seed takes root in your womb. Now, be a good girl and get comfortable."

Alastor nuzzles into your neck, his hands wandering over your body possessively. "Because I'm going to keep you pinned down and spend the rest of the day filling you with my seed until you're pregnant, and I want you to be comfortable while I breed you.” You are shocked. “What?” Your emotions are conflicting you. “I want to make sure there's no doubt that you're carrying my child." Alastor responds. You were in for a long night.

[eelnoise]

here tonight (nsfw!)

roronoa zoro x afab!reader cw: marine reader with a gun, stranger zoro fingers you, teasy zoro, smug zoro, reader is down bad and can't help it wc: 1.2k ao3 link

You were just finishing up patrol in the small port town you’re stationed in, the dull routine of a low-ranking Marine grinding away at your patience, when a flash of gold under a low hanging light catches your eye. You pause mid-step, backtracking to peer down the narrow alleyway.

Roronoa Zoro stands in the middle of the clearing, his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he glares at the dead-end before him. His signature green hair and three golden earrings glint in the dim light, his visible eye narrowing in frustration at the impassable wall. Despite the hefty bounty on his head, he looks completely at ease - though he scowls at the brick as if it’s personally offended him.

Your pulse spikes. This was it, the chance you’d finally get that promotion. You square your shoulders and reach the grip of your pistol and step forward. "Roronoa Zoro," you declare, "you are under arrest." Zoro turns slowly, like he wasn’t entirely sure you’re talking to him. His visible eye flicks from your face to the gun, then back. The wanted posters don’t do him justice - the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his muscles flex as he shifts his weight. The cheap printouts never captured the way his presence looms, like a storm you can’t look away from.

"Hands up!" You say, trying to shake the thoughts away as fingers twitch around the gun in your hands. The standard-issue firearm suddenly feels cheap and woefully inadequate. "...Huh?" he questions.

Your grip tightens. "I said hands up."

He scratches his chin. "Yeah, I heard you." A pause. "You gonna shoot me?"

"I will if you don't cooperate." You reply, but your breath hitches - just once, just enough. Zoro’s gaze drops to your throat, where he can practically hear your pulse rabbit beneath your skin. His smirk curls.

He snorts. "You sure?”

Then, faster than you can blink, he's right in front of you, your gun now uselessly pressing against his chest. A quiet dare, a call of your bluff.

Your throat goes dry, his proximity was overwhelming - the scent of steel and sake, the way his chest rose and fell against the gun still trapped between you. Your face begins to burn.

“You’re shaking,” he muses, voice deliberately and deliciously low. “Scared?”

“N-No,” you lie.

His chuckle is dark, knowing. “Liar.”

One of his hands comes up, calloused fingers wrapping around yours - around the gun - and your stomach flips. His warm hand envelops yours as he guides the weapon aside like it's nothing.

“Now what, Marine?” he murmurs, leaning in just enough to make your pulse stutter. “You gonna call for backup? Or…” His breath ghosts over your ear. “You gonna let me go?”

You made a sound, a pathetic, flustered noise, your gun finally falling from your hand and onto the ground, and his grin turns downright wicked.

“Yeah,” he said, voice dripping with satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.” Zoro leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in a low, teasing murmur. “All claws and no bite.” 

"Th-that's not-" you stammer, voice cracking as his breath ghosts across your skin. Your traitorous body leans into him before you can stop yourself.

His other hand comes up to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. That piercing gray eye that seems to stare straight into your soul, seeing the desire you're desperately trying to hide. Your cheeks flush hotter under his touch.

"Not what?" Zoro challenges, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. The simple contact sends 

electricity down your spine. "Gonna tell me you don't like this? That you're not imagining what else these hands could do to you?"

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. "I should - I should arrest you."

He barks out a laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest where it presses against yours. "You can't even arrest your own thoughts right now." His grip tightens slightly. "Admit it. You don't want me in cuffs, you want me."

Zoro's hand slides from the wall to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but possessive. His thumb traces the line of your jaw, your racing pulse jumping beneath his touch. He leans in, nose brushing yours, breath mingling with yours.

You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the musky scent of him filling your nostrils and making your head spin. Zoro's tongue darts out, licking a slow, teasing path up the side of your neck, tasting the salt of your skin. He chuckles lowly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into yours, pressed so close together.

Zoro's fingers trail down your neck, your chest, your stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. You inhale sharply as they dip beneath the waistband of your uniform pants, his knuckles brushing against your clothed sex. He smirks against your ear as he feels the damp fabric.

“What would your commanding officer think if they saw you now?” he murmurs, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric to stroke your bare, slick folds. “Wrapped up in the hands of a wanted pirate, so wet and desperate and needy…” He strokes your clit with a teasing touch, making your hips buck involuntarily against his hand.

You let out a soft whimper, your head falling back against the wall as Zoro's fingers explore your most intimate places. He slides one thick finger inside you, then two, stretching you out and pumping them slowly as his thumb rubs firm circles on your clit. Your inner walls clench around the intrusion, drawing him deeper as quiet moans escape your lips.

“Careful now, marine,” Zoro coos, his hot breath tickling your ear as he nibbles on the lobe. “You don't want anyone to hear you, do you?” His fingers pick up speed, thrusting harder, faster, as he feels your body tensing, your climax building. And he’s right - you can’t be caught like this. You’d be dismissed on the spot, sent back home with a Roronoa Zoro sized weight on your shoulders.

In a vain attempt to stifle your mewls of bliss, you bite your lip so hard that you taste blood. And just as you're about to tumble over the edge, Zoro curls his fingers just right, pressing against that spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking and shuddering as you come undone. Zoro works you through it, his fingers pumping and stroking, drawing out your pleasure until you're a boneless, panting mess. As the last aftershocks fade, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean.

You're left staring up at him, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Your uniform is rumpled, your pants still unbuttoned, a damp spot darkening the fabric at the apex of your thighs. Zoro looks down at you with a smug, satisfied smirk, knowing exactly what he's done to you.

“Don't worry,” he says softly, even kindly, “I won't tell if you won't.” He smirks at you before turning and sauntering out of the alleyway, leaving you to collect the pieces of your shattered composure. You know you should feel ashamed, horrified at your wanton behavior... but there’s no lying to yourself, and all you’re left thinking about is when you'll see him again.

[obscuremantisman]

⁍Elliot x Reader ⁌

CW: nothing that i can think of tbh.

Elliot swears he's not going crazy. "It's just the stress", he says, "just the lack of sleep", he told himself, backing away in a corner, no stamina, at 1 hp, and in sheer terror as he watched a medkit float his way, yes, float.

He pressed himself against the wall, bracing for the impact, tears building up on his eyes. This is by far the worst round he's been in. Where's Guest 1337? Shedlesky? Two Time? Chance? Where the hell are they when Elliot needs help??

He braces himself for the impact, expecting only horrors to befall him. Maybe it'd explode? Leak poisonous gas? Or turn into a monster? Instead, Elliot was met with nothing. When he opens his eyes, the medkit is just.. frozen mid-air.

It stayed still, filling the pizza man with paranoia, waiting for something to happen as he glared at the object, specks of dirt falling off its rusty plastic. Elliot gulped, his trembling form slowly relaxing from the lack of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "What the hell is actually happening???" He mumbled out with a flinch. Did the medkit just drop itself down at his feet?? Elliot eyed it up suspiciously.

Hmmmm. It touched him and yet nothing happened. Could it be safe for use? His teammates hoarded and used all remaining medkits... So this is his only chance of survival... 75% chance of it being a trap, and 25% of it being his path to victory. It wouldn't be thaaat bad to try out his luck, right? right???? It's not like Elliot would end up surviving anyway if the killer ever finds him or something...

Seeing nothing happen once the kit was hesitantly taken in his hands. He opened the box, wrapping himself up in the bandages, and sighing in relief once finished. Elliot straightned his back, a satisfying pop sound coming from his bones. This felt so much better. Now all he needed to do is– "Hmm.. I'll admit, I fell just a tiny little bad for scaring the poor guy." Elliot furrowed his eyebrows, looking around frantically for the source of sound. What is it now? Is he going insane?? Has he been chugging down too many sleeping pills recently??? Why can't anything go his way in this place???? "But as long as the result is the one expected... who cares, am i right?"

Elliot felt a force push down his hat to cover his vision, getting his mind to swirls with even more doubts and fill up with panic, foreseeing a surprise attack that would never truly come his way. "Bye, bye, pizza boy! Don't die this round, ok?" What is this?? Is that... Is that a hand he feels? It caressed the top of his head gently before Elliot could react. "I worked hard to the bone to fetch this stupid medkit before your little friends could get to it, you know."

He looked up, but there was nothing to see. Perplexed, he tipped his hat back up, eyes darting around for something, anything to tell him he wasn't crazy and that this actually just happened. Are ghosts real? Did he get injected with 1x1x1x1x's poison and is he currently dying because of it while in some sort of crazy illusion created by it? Maybe it's all just a dream? Hmm no, that couldn't be it. He would've already woken up the moment he started panicking around.

Elliot wiped off his tears and got himself off the wall slowly, touching the spot he was pet. He didn't know what just happened and he probably wouldn't be able to figure it out anytime soon, but right now? Right now he was just glad to be alive, ready once again to help out his team and make this round a successful one. He could leave the questioning for when he gets to bed. There's a lot of this situation he has yet to digest.

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── pies and cuddles can fix anyone

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: happy lix day!! this is a reupload but rewritten so it's better. enjoy <3

There was nothing Felix loved more in the world than moments like these. Sure, traveling was nice, getting to see sights he’s only ever dreamed of but his favorite destination would always be here with you, in your cozy little apartment he knew like the back of his hand. Home, his favorite place to come back to would always be home to you. Back to being surrounded by your specific smell that he couldn’t fall asleep without and your comforting touch, he longed for 24/7 – nothing could ever come close to that for him. Especially when you were both engaged in his favorite hobby and dressed in matching pajamas.

“Felix, come here.”

Your sweet voice had him complying instantly, abandoning the hot chocolate to be by your side in a heartbeat. Turning to face him with the biggest smile, Felix felt himself falling in love all over again as you brought the wooden spoon to his lips while stepping closer.

“Taste this and tell me if it needs anything else. And be honest!”

With a nod, he opened his mouth to do as told, eyes closing briefly to savor the taste. Apples, caramelized apples for your pie to be exact. Nothing could feel more like autumn than that.

He had a child-like smile on his freckled face once he opened his eyes again, visibly pleased, “I think it’s delicious as always, Y/n. It doesn’t need anything else.”

The way your eyes lit up at his praise had him chuckling, your happiness contagious. That’s why he couldn’t contain himself as he moved to engulf your form in a warm hug from behind, squeezing tightly while his chin rested on your shoulder.

“Okay, thanks.” You nodded, one of your hands moving to intertwine your fingers on your stomach where his rested, “To the oven it goes then.”

But you didn’t make any attempt to move – on the contrary, you leaned back to melt into his warm embrace as he started to pepper innocent kisses all over your cheek and neck. That continued for a minute more before Felix swiftly turned your body around to face him, successfully caging you between the counter and himself.

Leaning in, he rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, “You know, the pie won’t bake by itself, my love.”

“Just five more minutes.” Your voice came out whispered as you stood there, basking in the love your boyfriend was currently showering you with. A deep laugh escaped him at your response, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks and forehead before pulling away slightly.

“You only say that when I dare wake you up without giving you cuddles first. We’re baking right now, Y/n.”

You nodded again and moved to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his chest right where his heart was, “Yes so don’t wake me up. I don’t want you to disappear.”

His eyes softened at the double meaning behind your words, a pang of guilt suddenly hitting him in full force. No matter how far away he was, Felix was never going to leave nor forget you, not when his heart always brought him back to the only place that felt like home. The red string of fate that connected you could never allow that.

“This isn’t a dream, baby,” he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, words murmured against your hair, “I’m right here and I'll always be.”

You were well aware of that but some reassurance never hurt anybody.

“I know. I’m just afraid of you disappearing because you’re way too good to be true. Like an angel without its wings, trapped on this planet to make things more bearable.”

Felix laughed, the sound causing you to do so as well as he buried his face in your hair to hide his embarrassment. Flustering your boyfriend was always so fulfilling. Making an angel laugh must count for something, right? There must a gauge that once filled will grant you eternal happiness.

Not like you were too interested, you already had that with Felix by your side.

“Shut up.” He murmured against your neck, the gesture causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. “Put the pie in the oven and let’s go cuddle already. Even the hot chocolate is cold by now.”

[admirationandromantics]

Reading Material

This was not a request, sorry, but I have been a bit overwhelmed lately, so will not post as much as usual. Anyways, this story is based on the thought of Josh finding out about the sexy smutty book you're reading, and basically how he would react. Hope you like it!

Word count: 1,1k (unedited)

I open the book, resuming on the page I left off. Luckily for me, the cover of it is quite discrete. At the same time, the sex-scenes weren’t many. The book overall is interesting, and has a good plot, but those types of scenes last for at least two chapters in one sitting, so I have to be careful when I read them. Who knows who might be peeking. The only person who usually does is Ashley, but she’s in another room with Chris and Matt, talking about some series or movie she recently watched.

I make myself comfortable on the sofa, knees coming up, tightly pressed together. The page turns, tension building up as the main characters get into it once again. My eyes are glued to the ink, failing to see the shadow behind me. I take it all in, imagining it in my head as they do their thing. What kind of position is that? I turn a page back, trying to make sense of it. One leg there, arms around his torso. Before I can understand it all, a hand comes down, taking a firm grip on the top of the book, snatching it out of my fingers. I yelp at the suddenness, turning quickly while trying to grab it back. 

“Hey!” 

“What do we have here?”

Josh takes a few steps back as I stand up and walk around the furniture. He smiles, turning back a few pages to see the start. I run at him, but he easily dodges my attempt, using one of his hands to push me away. 

“I swear to God, Josh, give it back!” 

“Never knew you had such porn-fantasies” 

“You looked when there was that type of chapter, it’s a good book” 

“Hold up, things just got interesting” he continues, a smirk plastered on his lips as his eyes roll over the lines. I try one more time to snatch it back, but fail again. He starts running to the hallway, and I sigh loudly as I follow. This man will not go tell the others, I’ll make sure of that. 

“Don’t you dare!” I yell, turning the corner in the dark room. As I do, an arm captures me. He slams me against the wall, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand, holding them over my head. 

“I’m not done reading” he teases, eyes capturing mine before going back to the open book. I wiggle, hoping to get out of his grasp. Just as I’m about to make it, his fingers tightens, body pushing mine into the wall, using his legs and upper body strength. 

“Josh, I will literally kill you!” He laughs, gaze going over my form beneath him. 

“Sure you will, oh and look at that” he continues, tongue going over his lips. 

“What?” 

“We’re in the exact same position as those in your little fantasy” 

I can help the blush that spreads on my cheeks, face heating up as he draws himself closer. The other guys are two rooms away, talking loudly and unaware of the situation I’ve put myself in. I feel my breathing get uneven and heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly in response to him. He does the same, the smirk gone and replaced by a small surprised expression. Mouth slightly open, hot air being blown onto my face. I gaze into his eyes, lids low as he shifts his stare from my eyes to my lips, and then up to my eyes again. I can only describe it as a silent request, a question about the next part. I give a small nod, and he comes closer, noses brushing against each other. 

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, he changes positions. He turns us around, making him go against the wall with my back against his chest. I gasp, feeling the pressure on my wrists as he holds them tightly to my side, his muscular arm trapping me on him. Face buries itself in my hair, mouth making its way to my ear. He lifts the book in front of me, forcing my face forward to look at the page. 

“Read this passage out loud” he whispers, lips touching my ear. His fingers graze over the text, guiding me to the relevant sentences. I take a breath, sinking into him, head leaning back on his shoulder. He smells like oranges and bark, a comforting combination. 

“Come on, do it” he teases, using his head to move mine to the side. He starts kissing down my neck, small kisses and bites, not hurting. I look down on the text again, reading every word out loud between gasps of air from how he’s working on me. 

“I crave your tender touches, I want to feel all of you on top of me as I explore every part of your body with my mouth” I whisper. He lets go of my wrists, letting both my arms fall to the side. I don’t move away from him, but instead let his hand wander up my stomach, settling on one of my breasts. 

“Now read the next line” 

I look down again, his thumb caressing the paper, still holding the book firm. 

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it” 

He groans in my ear, chest heaving against my back, moving my body as well. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Matt asks, and we both jump away from one another. I look up embarrassingly, while Josh just stares with his mouth wide open. 

“What are you doing?” 

I’m about to stutter a reply, but Josh beats me to it, putting on his jokester-face and waving the book. 

“Just some light reading” 

“Really?” 

Matt comes closer, snatching the book from his hands. My instincts get the better of me and I yell out a loud “no” while trying to get it back. He holds the book high while reading, one hand holding me back. 

“Damn, this is some nasty stuff y'all” 

Josh looks down, tomato-red blush covering his cheeks. I keep persisting, wanting to get the book back. Bad enough that two of my friends saw this today. 

“Guys! You’ll not believe what I found these two horny fuckers reading together!” he yells to the other room, starting to make his way there. Josh and I give each other a look. This cannot be happening. We scream out protests, and Matt turns around in shock, starting to run when he sees us coming. This is not just a game anymore, we need to get that book back.