#tw: magic coercion

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku NSFW Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of non-con, dub-con, breeding, non-consensual touching, dry humping, masturbation, panty sniffing, a brief mention about virginity being sacred but no explicit mention of whether reader is a virgin or not, Kyojuro is a virgin tho so corruption kink kind of, pillow humping, coercion, allusions to lactation kink and pregnancy kink, choking, spitting, Kyo gets sex advice from Tengen, Kyo picks you up at one point but remember he's literally a Hashira and could pick anyone up no matter their weight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS:

In general, Kyojuro isn’t an incessantly horny man. Not only does he hold women in a high respect and doesn’t inherently sexualize them, but to be quite honest he simply doesn’t have time to be regularly indulging in sex or even masturbation. He’s a busy man, and when others are settled under their covers, either sleeping or moaning in another’s ear, he’s out in the dark, dangerous night hunting demons.

And so despite being in the sexual prime of his life, Kyojuro doesn’t have a huge amount of experience. He’s never considered actually touching a woman before, mostly because he didn’t feel the urge to and because he firmly believes in the idea of saving himself for his wife and life partner.

And even once you step into his life he doesn’t magically become some sex-crazed monster – eventually he is, sure, but it’s gradual. It takes a while to reach that stage, for him to both desire you enough and desire sex enough to be wasting his time fantasizing about you and your body.

Little seeds will be planted in his mind as the weeks and month pass, his obsession slowly developing and leaving him floundering when small, inappropriate thoughts begin seeping into the edges of his mind.

He’s noticing the way your kimono dips down just a bit one day – your collarbones are pretty, and he can’t help but have a fleeting thought of how soft the skin of your neck and shoulders must be.

(He’ll return home that night and try to forget that thought, going through an even more extensive training regime than normal, but even by the end of the some four hour session, he’s still imagining how the skin of your collarbones must taste.)

He’s suddenly noticing that your voice gets higher when you get flustered, the pitch raising just slightly, enough for him to notice and mentally file away for future reference.

(Would your voice get higher if he were to fluster you? How would you sound when he’s just kissed you, your lips swollen and your eyes dazed? How would you sound when he’s touching you, his hands settling at your waist or cupping your breasts, or perhaps even slowly, carefully dipping his fingers inside of you, feeling you tighten up and clench down and gasp and writhe and moan his name - )

He becomes acutely aware of the way you always seem to bend over to pick things up, your clumsiness coming into play as he finds himself unconsciously moving to stand so that he has an unobstructed view as you bend over, his eyes blatantly fixed on the curve of your ass, his lips slightly parted.

(He’s definitely thinking of that image later that night, one of his rare nights off, with his hand wrapped deathly tight around his cock as he imagines you bending over for him - perhaps over his dining table, or maybe even over his knee as he gropes and squeezes and plays with you.) 

The thoughts feel largely out of place initially, more often than not leaving him slightly dazed and confused because he’s never thought about how soft and smooth a woman’s thighs must be, nor about how your hands feel so small in comparison to his: less calloused and rough and warmer.

It’s strange, but as his delusions grow deeper and his feelings for you only intensify, Kyojuro finds himself rationalizing that it isn’t so disrespectful to be thinking this way – you’re practically already courting, and while you may not yet possess the Rengoku name, you will soon enough.

And once you’re wed?

Well, surely you must know what married couples do – pleasuring one another, loving one another, spending hours tangled in the sheets with gasps and cries ringing through their ears, sweat and kisses and cum covering every inch of their bodies. And if that’s your future – which he’s positive it is – then what’s the harm in imagining it?

He imagines all sorts of domestic scenarios with you, so why should it matter if the clothing is removed and your pretty smile is replaced with a pretty moan?

It’s fine – and so, while he still doesn’t wring himself dry to you every day, he’s sure to settle down and explicitly imagine being with you in an intimate way at least three times a week – even if that means unzipping the pants of his uniform with a demon’s blood still staining his hands, freshly killed and sending adrenaline through his veins.

(Adrenaline that then gets channeled into imagining the way you’d be so proud of him for outsmarting the demon and successfully eliminating it – perhaps you’d be so proud that you’d be willing to get on your knees for him, your soft lips wrapping around him and sucking, your little moans making his head spin and your nimble fingers kneading and groping at his balls. Ah yes, what a lovely thought…)

So while he’s not the most horny yandere of his comrades, he’s certainly no saint. But really, how could he be when you’re so damn alluring?

When it comes to actually touching himself, Kyojuro finds that his pleasure comes easiest when he’s actually doing the work, actually putting effort into getting himself off. It feels okay to simply pump his fist up and down, but it’s not enough – because being with you would be so much more overwhelming, even just your body heat alone making the experience ten times more powerful, more intense, more enjoyable.

He wants to immerse himself in the fantasy of actually having your soft body to kiss and touch and love, and he finds the best way to really achieve this is to fuck something rather than fucking his fist. But he’s a loyal man, and would sooner end his life than fall into the arms of another woman, even if only for a night.

And so, he compromises by fashioning a pillow – one with a covering of your favorite color, of course – into a substitute for yourself.

And while it feels good to have the pillow at all, Kyojuro finds that even just the simple pillow isn’t enough – it needs more, to be more representative of you, to just be better at convincing him that it’s really your wet, warm cunt he’s sinking into with every thrust rather than the dense plush of the pillow.

And so, with dark ink, he musters up every bit of artistic talent he possesses and carefully, oh so carefully draws in your features as much as he’s able to. He’s certainly no artist, but he’s slow and methodical with bringing to life this poor stand in for your own body – paying attention to every small detail, wanting everything to be as life-like as possible.

Your eyes are drawn on, correct down to the shape, even going so far as to try and ink on every eyelash, the flecks of color in your irises, any eye bags or wrinkles you may have.

He’s drawing your nose, the outline of jaw and neck, and, of course, your lips. He’s drawn them so that they’re permanently parted, leaving you looking like you’re gasping in pleasure, even going so far as to try and shade them so that they appear to be wet.

(Presumably with spit, or perhaps something a bit thicker, a bit hotter – it depends on the fantasy.)

The drawings continue down your body, making sure to outline your neck and shoulders, even down to your hands and fingers. (One hand is drawn with all your fingers curled and your thumb touching your index finger, so that a circular hole is made.)

He’s drawn your breasts, nipples, the swell of your tummy, your hips and thighs, even your calves and the arch of your ankles.

(He’s drawn you so that your thighs are spread slightly, giving him a view into what lies between – he’s not entirely sure of the technicalities of female anatomy, so he’s negating drawing any specifics and instead simply leaving the area blank, not willing to misrepresent your lovely, gorgeous figure – that’d feel disrespectful to you, as if the fact that he’s essentially created a sex doll in your image isn’t. He’s seen enough mothers breastfeeding children to have an idea of the upper half of a woman’s body, but he still shivers in excitement at learning how your upper body looks – though he thinks he has a good idea based upon how your clothing fits you, his eyes greedily observing the way the material is taut around your chest.)

Once everything is drawn, it’s easy to tear holes in the pillow – one between your legs, one in the curled circle of your hand, one between your pretty, parted lips.

Once he’s completed his work he'll eagerly, gingerly bring the pillow to his bed, gulping excitedly and immediately stripping off his clothing. His cock is already rock hard, swollen and pressing against his lower stomach, the tip a bright red and shining in the firelight of the room, precum soaking the skin.

He’d managed to get a guaranteed night off-duty this evening, which means there won’t be a single interruption. He’ll set the pillow down flat, excitement already licking at his every muscle, the room feeling incredibly hot already. He’s quick to settle himself above the pillow, his weight resting on both knees and his forearm that’s pressed against the ground. His free hand comes up to lightly trace at the drawn-on curve of your jaw, his face mere inches from where he imagines yours to be.

My flame, you are so beautiful… He’ll tell you, tongue flicking out to lick at his lips.

His cock twitches as he leans down to softly press his lips against your drawn ones, the kiss soft and slow and meaningful, the Hashira pouring every ounce of affection he feels for you into the action.

He imagines you kissing back; would you be hesitant, embarrassed and shy? Or would you be just as eager, perhaps wrapping your arms around his neck and running your hands through his hair, maybe even pulling on it, biting his lip and letting him know how badly you need him?

He groans, his eyes closed, lips working harder against the pillow, his tongue coming out to dart against the hole cut out, imagining your own tongue tangling with his. His hand wanders down from your jaw to your breast, fingers groping and squeezing at nothing but cotton, but the motion alone has his hips bucking, cock brushing slightly against the pillow. It makes him hiss, pulling back from the kiss and licking his lips, his eyes already half lidded and dazed.

Forgive me, I can’t wait any longer, I must be inside you.

His voice is breathless, and as he shimmeys upwards slightly, he’s spreading his legs a bit, thighs flexing as he leans back, audible inhaling as he nudges his tip against the hole between your drawn on legs, already smearing precum against the material from just a bit of contact.

His fingers are trembling slightly as he pushes in inch by inch, going slowly just like he would if it was really you, wanting to make sure you adjust to him and he feels good, so that you’ll be ready for him to absolutely ravish you.

He’s groaning as he bottoms out, balls pressed tightly against the pillow, his chest heaving as he stares wildly at your drawn on face. You feel – you feel amazing, my flame, oh –

He presses his forehead against yours as he slowly pulls back, the muscles of his ass and lower back going taut, before sinking in slowly again, an uneven sigh of your name slipping past his lips.

You feel so tight around me, does it feel good? Does it feel good to have me inside you?

Just the phrasing of that makes his head spin, the idea that he’s inside of you (even if he’s really not) making his hips snap to life, his previously slow pace picking up quickly.

He’s panting already, all the breathing control he’s mastered flying out the window because this is different – it’s your body underneath him, your pretty pussy sucking him in over and over and over, your moans ringing in his ears as you cry out his name again and again.

Kyojuro Kyojuro Kyojuro, please it feels so good!

He’s imagining the way you’d moan his name, how your voice would get so breathy, your fingers raking down his back, your legs wrapping around his hips.

He groans your name again, hips snapping into yours hard enough to push the pillow up with every thrust, his mind running wild as he imagines how your breasts would bounce at the force, practically begging to be squeezed and sucked at. A hand comes up and begins groping at nothing again, his thumb brushing over where he’s drawn on your nipple, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the pleasure begins mounting.

It just feels too damn good – it’s so easy to imagine you below him, crying out his name as he fucks you hard enough to leave you utterly destroyed, your perfect little cunt massaging him in just the right ways.

He’s chanting your name under his breath, his eyes wide and staring down at your inked face, his voice getting faster and more strained as his muscles start clenching, his balls tightening and his hips stuttering and his heart racing because oh god oh fuck oh fuck –

He’s pulling out at the last minute, cum spurting all over the pillowcase, his moans of your name filling the room as his hand quickly tugs, wrist twisting and moving so fast it’s nearly a blur. The pleasure is immense, leaving his toes curling and every hair on his body standing up straight, feeling as if fire is running through his veins.

After the last few sad spurts dribble from his oversensitive, swollen tip, he’s left gasping, swallowing hard and letting a broad grin slip across his face. With still heavy breaths, he pushes back any stray hair from his forehead, the bit of sweat gathered there leaving him sighing. He’s quick to lean down, pressing a soft, long kiss against your drawn-on lips, a whispered I love you murmured against the pillow.

He has to swallow hard as he pulls back, euphoria still swimming in his veins at the intensity of his orgasm. Pleasuring himself to the thought of you is nearly too much - it leaves him breathless, feeling a high that doesn’t fade for hours after, and as he lays down beside the pillow, still stained with cum as he pulls it against his chest, imagining spooning you, he can’t help but shiver.

Because if it feels this good to simply imagine, how would the real you feel?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your thighs

In general, Kyojuro thinks you’re absolutely beautiful.

He finds you to be the single most attractive woman on Earth, and even if he’s never seen your body in anything more form fitting than a kimono or a slayer uniform, he’s absolutely sure that whatever awaits him beneath the cloth will be heaven, the thing of wet dreams.

And the moment he finally, finally has you bare below him, your pretty skin on display and waiting to be kissed, fondled, marked as his, he finds that he’s not disappointed in any way.

You’re gorgeous – and, naturally, the most gorgeous part of you is your thighs. There’s something about the sight of them that gets him swallowing hard, his eyes growing a bit brighter and wider.

His palms get a bit sweatier when he sees the way they splay out when you sit down, the fat jiggling with every step you take, the way they just look so touchable and squeezable. He nearly has a full body reaction the moment your thighs are out on display, his body temperature rising to extreme heights and his attention straining to stay on you rather than your pretty legs.

Even in settings where soft, loving affection is occurring, he's still eyeing them, appreciating the way you look in his clothing, the simple overshirt you’d put on that morning stopping mid thigh and leaving very little of your upper legs to the imagination.

 (You’ll notice the way his fingers slowly creep down from your waist, moving inch by inch until they’re finally laying over the curve of your thigh, idly rubbing and pressing into the warm flesh, marveling at just how soft you are.)

And when you’re both intimate with one another, his enjoyment of your thighs will be more than apparent – he’s always touching them, his hand coming down to squeeze and stay there, almost latching onto you as he throws your leg over his shoulder, his hips never stopping the brutal pace he’s established.

Every position he fucks you in involves your thighs somehow – he’s forcing you to wrap them around his hips when he's hovering above you and pressing down on you so tightly you’re only able to breath in him.

When he’s folded you into the deepest mating press possible, he’s holding you in position by pressing directly against the back of your thighs rather than your knees, often leaving fingertip shaped bruises there from the sheer force and strength he has to keep at bay every time he slips inside you.

Even when he’s fucking you from behind, your pretty ass on display as he sinks so deeply into you that it drives him crazy, he’s making sure to line his own thighs up to press against yours, relishing in the way his balls clap against your clit and the soft, plush fat of your upper inner thighs.

He’s paying extra attention to nip and tease you when he’s got his head between your legs, sucking hickeys and pressing kisses against your inner thighs as he slowly trails up from the inside of your knees.

He wants you to cage in his head when you’re nearing your orgasm, to squeeze as tightly as possible while he licks and moans and thrusts his tongue into you, the only thing he can see and taste and feel and hear being you you you.

Even when you’ve got your lips wrapped around his cock, his eyes are fixated on the way your thighs look splayed out while you kneel on them, his hips bucking as he zones out slightly, the pleasurable feeling of your mouth making him moan and struggle to maintain his composure.

He just really, really likes that area of your body, and while there’s certainly no part of you that he doesn’t like, his penchant for touching you there and always having a hand on your thigh will be very, very apparent to you.

So if you want to tease him, to see the way his eyes darken a bit and his smile grows a bit sinister, sit down with your legs slightly spread, stare at him with those pretty, pouty eyes of yours, and tell him that you’ve been feeling sore, will you please give me a massage, Kyo? I miss your touch…

You’ll have trouble walking the next day, and the littering of bruises, hickeys, and bite marks against your thighs will serve as proud trophies for Kyojuro, who will insist you not cover them up.

His mouth

In the context of sex, Kyojuro lives to please. He’s being completely honest when he firmly tells you that your pleasure is his, because he really does feel that way.

When you touch him it makes his head spin and his hips involuntarily buck, but when he touches you?

Well, more often than not he’s coming alongside you when he’s fingering you, that telltale groan of o-oh and the wet warmth you’ll feel against your skin letting you know exactly how watching you fall apart is affecting him. And similarly, he gets very, very into it when he’s got his mouth working at you, his talented tongue drawing tight circles over your clit and his hair tickling the inside of your thighs.

Every sexual encounter with Kyojuro will involve him eating you out in some capacity, both because he wants you to feel good, and also because he genuinely enjoys the taste of you and the feel of you against his tongue.

And he’s good at it too – he starts off slow, teasing you with playful nipping and smiles against your skin, his eyes looking up at you the whole time, forcing you to keep eye contact because he wants you to see how he pleasures you, for you to see how right he looks between your legs.

He’ll ghost around where you really need him for a while, making sure to pepper kisses at the juncture between your pelvis and thigh, the area right above your clit, even your lower tummy and hips.

He’ll kitten lick at your folds, humming against your skin and letting the vibrations send shivers up your spine, his tongue dipping just a bit deeper each time, until he’s using his thumbs to physically spread your lips, lewd slurping noises filling your ears as he licks and sucks, pleasure making you sigh his name.

After he’s sufficiently teases you, he’ll press a few more kisses to your thigh, then move upwards, still staring you in the eyes, before licking his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your clit.

He’ll tell you that he loves your body, my flame, especially this special spot that always makes you moan my name, before flicking his tongue along it, enjoying the way you jerk at the acute stimulation.

He’s perfected the art of keeping a steady, consistent pattern against you, making sure that the rhythm can let the pleasure build, a dull warmth spreading through your entire lower body.

Meanwhile, he’ll always slip a finger inside of you, curling and pressing against areas he knows you like, feeling the way your thighs twitch and your moans get louder.

He likes when you run your hands through his hair as he uses his mouth on you, especially if you lightly tug or pull; the pleasure tinged with slight pain makes him blindly hump at whatever is closest to him.

And he’ll always, always keep going until you’ve reached your high, even if that means spending hours between your legs; anything to feel the way your cunt flutters against his lips, how you gasp and practically wail his name, your thighs seizing up and your slick coating his chin and lips.

His eyes close as he eagerly laps it up, addicted to your taste – and as he pulls back, his lower face glistening with your arousal and spit, he’ll kiss you, pulling you into a passionate, tongue-heavy kiss.

Even outside of going down on you, Kyojuro finds ways to utilize his mouth in regards to you in every situation he can – he’s always pressing kisses against your lips, cheek, forehead, neck, and knuckles, liking the way that it flusters you and leaves you biting your lip.

He’s taking your hand in his and pressing kisses against your fingertips, singing your praises between presses of his lips, until he’s eventually slipping a finger into his mouth, holding your gaze as he sucks and runs his tongue up and down your skin, the intensity of the moment making you simultaneously aroused and uncomfortable.

He’ll even go so far as to share your toothbrush, just because he likes the idea of a little bit of him being in a little bit of you.

(You’re very aware of this, even without the whole toothbrush misfortune – his penchant for always, always finishing inside of you makes this abundantly clear.)

DRIVE:

Despite Kyojuro’s delusions about your relationship and how you feel for him, even he can’t misread the way you react so negatively to his mentions of being sexual with you. You always freeze up, eyes going wide, your head shaking no and your voice hurried as you tell him please, please no Kyojuro, I’m not – I’m not ready for that, please don’t!

 He’ll respect that, firmly nodding and tell you to not worry, my love, I can wait for as long as it takes!

He doesn’t really understand it, however, because in his mind there really shouldn’t be a reason why you aren’t ready – you’re his, and you know it.

 You’re living together (even if that wasn’t your choice) and you share a bed together when he’s home. You bath together (something that Kyojuro enjoys very, very much, his hands always wandering, his breath hot in your ear as he tells you that you’re beautiful, something hard pressing against you when he’s washing your hair), share a toothbrush, eat together and wear his clothing – you’re a couple, a partnership between a man and a woman, and wanting to express your love physically is a natural urge.

It’s normal and healthy, and something he wants so, so very badly to do with you. But he understands that perhaps you’re not comfortable with that level of intimacy quite yet – he’s aware of how society views women who’ve lost their virginity (he’d never explicitly asked you if you’ve touched another person, but he assumes you’ve saved yourself for him as he’s saved himself for you), and although you’d be giving it to the man you’ll spend the rest of your life with, he can respect that you might simply be afraid to lose something you’ve learned is cherished.

He’s disappointed by your rejection of sex, but he means it when he says he’ll wait for you to be ready and won’t force it upon you. That does not, however, mean that Kyojuro will completely abstain from interacting with you sexually. He just can’t help himself – sure, he may not be actively fucking you, but he finds other ways to placate the carnal desires practically begging him to rip off your clothing and press you against him while he makes you moan and writhe and fills you with him him him.

It starts small – he’s kissing you every chance he gets, letting them get longer and deeper, lasting sometimes minutes at a time while small moans and groans slip from his mouth into yours. His hand initially starts at your shoulder when he does this, but as time passes he gets bolder – it moves to your waist, your cheek, your hip, even over your ribcage right below your clothed breast, the edges of his fingers brushing against the underside of the pudge fat as moving up slowly, up until he pulls away from the kiss for air.

When kissing you becomes not enough, he moves to hugging you for longer periods of time, getting tighter and purposefully pressing parts of his body against you. He’s always been touchy, and you’ve been getting hugs for nearly as long as you’ve known him (even before his infatuation formed, back when his feelings for you were strictly platonic – now, though, they’re anything but).

But these hugs are different – he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you flush with his body, smiling at you with those wide, unsettling eyes while his breathing picks up ever so slightly, his pelvis pressed tightly against your own so that you can feel something – something warm, big, almost feeling like it’s moving against you, like it’s throbbing.

He’ll ask you to give him a pair of your panties when he leaves for missions, smiling so brightly and boyishly when you hesitantly deliver the piece of cloth to his outstretched palm, licking his lips and bringing the garment up to inhale deeply before stuffing it away into one of the many pockets of his Demon Corps uniform, telling you with a laugh to choose a pair that’s been used next time please, my flame.

(You never ask why he wants the underwear while he’s gone, simply because you think you know the answer already, but somehow hearing it from him would be worse, like confirming a truth you desperately wished to be false. Plus, you’re sure he’d tell you in extreme detail exactly how he uses them, too, perhaps even giving you a visual demonstration because he’s just so eager to interact with you, to feel your pretty eyes on him.)

It’s disturbing, but it’s a small comfort to know that he may be pushy and make you uncomfortable but he’ll never truly force you into sex. Kyojuro may be many things, but he’s at least a man of his word – even if he very, very badly wishes he wasn’t sometimes.

And so as wonderful as kissing you deeper and hugging you tighter and fucking his fist to your panties is, Kyojuro eventually decides that he needs more. He needs to get as close to actually fucking you as he can without being inside of you, just as he promised.

And so the perfect solution is really just that simple – running through the motions without violating your wishes. Kyojuro is ecstatic just thinking about – which is why, when the mood strikes him, his cock straining against his trousers and his fingers itching to reach out and touch, he’ll strip off his clothing, smiling at you and running his knuckles against your cheek while telling you to take your clothing off please, love, I want to make you feel good.

And really, as much as you don’t want to, it’s easier on both of you if you just do – your options are let him hump you like a dog, or be forced to touch him, your own hand wrapped around his cock as he moans and sighs and thrusts into your hand while telling you how good you look. And so, once your clothing is off, Kyojuro will look at you with those eyes, licking his lips slowly and walking up to you, pressing himself against you again and letting his hands sit firmly at your waist.

My flame, he’ll murmur to you, his voice low and his breath a bit hitched because his cock is pressed up against your thigh and god, even that touch alone is enough to make his knees feel weak. Lay down for me.

He’ll have you lay on your back, your legs spread for him and your arms over your head. He’ll stand for a while, simply staring at you, the sight of you in such a provocative position making his cheeks tinge pink and his throat feel a bit dry. But soon there’s too much precum dribbling from his tip to ignore, and he’ll climb over you, hovering over you and wrapping your leg around his waist, so that his face is mere inches from yours and his cock is pressed against your navel.

He’ll swallow, leaning down a bit to press his lips against yours, relishing in the warmth of your body pressed against his own. Kisses are pressed against the corner of your mouth, then down the length of your jaw, down your neck and finally to your shoulder, the movements slow and meaningful despite the near painful aching between his legs. His hips seem to move on their own, slowly rocking forward and backwards, the friction of his cock rubbing against your skin and against the tufts of hair making him hiss slightly.

His lips find purchase at your ear, deep sighs and heavy pants impossible to ignore as he slowly picks up his pace. The stimulation feels good, but it’s not enough for him - he has to move faster, harder, be better, because this is really a chance for him to show you exactly what you’re missing out on. This is his opportunity to show you that if he were to do this inside of you, it would feel so much better for you – it’s his opportunity to convince you that sex with him would feel good, that you’d be satisfied, that he could please you.

And he commits to that desire – one forearm is pressed against the bed right beside your head supporting his weight while the other wanders from your waist up to grope and squeeze at your breast, deft fingers pinching and rolling your nipple between them. He’ll groan your name, leaning down to lick at your lips and tell you that you’re so very beautiful, his voice strained. He’ll bring the hand down to ghost over your stomach, right above where his cock is grinding and thrusting, moving to bury his nose against your neck while he chants your name. His voice is a bit slurred, the pleasure making his brows draw tightly together, his hips snapping and flexing harder and harder.

He’s close, and he tells you as much – muffled against your neck, his low groan of f-feels too good, you feel so good love…

 With his orgasm approaching, he resorts to kissing your neck again, his hair tickling you and the feeling of his cock dragging against your skin over and over making your toes curl involuntarily, because even as humiliating and uncomfortable as this is, isn’t there something oddly sexy about this big, strong man making himself a fool on you, losing him mind from just the feel of you?

He’s desperate for the pleasure he’s right on the brink of as he blindly reaches out to find your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours tightly, the moan that rises in the back of his throat high and uneven and raw. His whole body shakes as something warm and thick spurts against your stomach, a few drops landing on the undersides of your breasts, his breath heavy in your ear as he slowly, oh so slowly thrusts, riding out the last waves of his pleasure.

His hand is still gripping yours, and after a moment he pulls back and kisses you again, his tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and insistent, the red on his cheeks even more pronounced now.

It’s still not ideal, grinding and humping against you like this, but Kyojuro is content to do it as many times as it takes until you finally, finally feel ready to let him love you like you deserve, to let him make you gasp and cry out his name and gush around him until you’re too incoherent to even think.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

Kyojuro is very vocal in bed. He’s constantly talking to you – telling you how good you feel, telling you when something in particular feels best, warning you when his orgasm is dangerously near, just producing a constant stream of commentary as he fucks you. His voice is breathy the whole time, always turned up at the ends of his sentences because the pleasure is too strong, forcing him to slur his words together because fuck you feel good.

A lot of his vocalness stems from the fact that he’s just so excited to be intimate with you – he’s been fantasizing about this for a long time, long nights spent with his eyes closed and his cheeks a bit pink,

imagining the way you’d look underneath the pretty kimonos and clothing you wear.

He’s imagined what your face would look like when he’s cupping your breasts, thumbing at your nipples and making your brows twitch, biting your lip as you tell him to squeeze just a hair harder, pressing yourself against him because having his hands on you feel too good.

He’s imagined how your thighs would tremble when he’s got two fingers buried in your cunt, curling and scissoring and rubbing against your sensitive walls while you curl your toes and whine his name.

He’s even imagined the way your pussy would feel as he’s fucking you, how it would clench down on him hard, practically begging him to stay inside, begging for every last drop of cum he can possibly give.

He’s fantasized and daydreamed and imagined for months on end, each scenario only making him more anxious to finally have his hands on you, the buildup to actual intimacy with you leaving him wildly excited. And so, now that you’re finally with him, your perfect body warm and soft to the touch just as he knew you’d be, Kyojuro can’t help himself from telling you every little thing he’s thinking and feeling. He’s rambling on about how pretty you look when you’re underneath him, your body spread out for him and completely bare.

He’ll smile at you and kiss at every available inch of skin as his hands squeeze and knead at your sides, leaning back to admire the view of a flustered, bashful you underneath him all with a dreamy sigh and a small you’re so perfect, my flame, exactly as I imagined you’d be. And really, it would be sweet if it weren’t for the way he continues on to tell you exactly what he’d imagined, explicit details about how he'd fucked to his fist to the thought of you writhing below him, what pace he’d used, how he’d tightened up his grip to simulate how tight you’d grip him, even going so far as to tell you that this particular fantasy had him producing much more cum than normal when he eventually came.

It’s too much information and will leave you feeling disturbed and a bit scared, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to notice – he’s too deeply enthralled with the pleasure you’re giving him, the words seeing to slip off his tongue without him even realizing it as he thrusts into you with an almost inhuman speed.

But of course, even as lovely as it is to detail all of the fantasies he’s had of you, what you’ll most often get with him is praise. He generally thinks that you’re enchanting, viewing you as something perfect and lovely and so, so very wonderful, but when he’s intimate with you this perception of you only intensifies.

Every small burst of pleasure you give him only solidifies his infatuation with you, and he can’t stop himself from telling you how beautiful you look on your knees for him, your pretty lips wrapped around his cock and your eyes prickling with tears because he’s too big for you to take down your throat. He’ll just smile, hand cupping the back of your hand and slowly easing you down his length, biting his lip at the sight and sighing out that you’re doing so well, you feel so – so good, yes love oh, suck just like that, it feels amazing when you do that.

He’ll have you perched on his lap, tits bouncing in his face while his hands clutch at your hips and move you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and a moan of your name falling past his lips, small chants of yes yes yes and gasps of your name filling the air between you.

He’ll lick and suck at your clit with his head buried between your thighs, a lithe finger working in and out of you as he moans appreciatively against you, your taste on his tongue forcing him to pull back a moment to lick a long, flat stripe against your folds, his chin and lips visibly glistening as you tells you that you taste so delicious, I can’t get enough of you, give me more please my flame, I need more of you.

And when you’re gushing around his fingers a few minutes later, desperately grabbing at the pillow under your head and his hair, Kyojuro can only brokenly groan, his own orgasm not far behind yours as he thrusts his hips against the floor. You’re just so pretty and perfect and wonderful, and how can he not tell you?

And after he’s emptied himself inside of you, he’ll curl you into his arms and hold you, breathing into your ear and telling you how good you did, how you did so well and made him feel so good. Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head while he does this, his compliments sounding so genuine and reverent that you’ll be equal parts flattered and uncomfortable because god, he really means it when he says you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, doesn’t he?

Kyojuro of course loves to be praised in turn – any positive comment from you is met with eager and wide eyes, his ministrations and motions only increasing, his desperation to please you and make you feel good nearly palpable. Your moans of his name and cries of yes and right there and please making something smug and warm swell in his chest, his obsession only deepening because you just look so right when you’re falling apart on his cock.

He lives to please you, so please praise him – he’ll return the favor with so much passion and vigor that you’ll almost be embarrassed for him at how high and whiny and lewd the groan he lets out when he spills inside you is.

Almost, because he’ll follow it up with heavy breaths and a stuttered that – that was for you, because of you, because you feel so fucking good.

Oral Fixation

There’s something about the taste of you that he simply can’t get enough of. Even before he stole you away, Kyojuro was quick to snatch any small item of yours that could potentially taste like you.

He managed to snag the small vial of lip balm he’s seen you use – the one that his eyes always get stuck on, watching the way you pucker and pop your lips, the smacking noises obscene and provocative and sexy. You’d left it on the table after a lunch he’d invited you to, and Kyojuro – ever the gentleman – had pocketed it with the intention to return it to you later. Only, he didn’t – it stayed in his pocket until later that night when he’d fished it out, carefully opened it, and pressed the nearly empty balm against his own lips, closing his eyes and sighing because oh, if he licks his lips now he’ll taste you…

He’s got a cloth he keeps in his pocket that’s reserved specifically for you – when you’re eating with him, going on outgoings that are strictly platonic to you but are anything but to him, he’ll use the cloth and wipe off bits of food sitting on your lips, some stray sauce on the corner of your mouth. The cloth is kept in his pocket until later, when his cock is bright red and swollen and drooling precum for you, his lip caught between his teeth as he uses the cloth to tug and twist at his sensitive head, the friction of the cotton against his skin making him shiver and writhe and curl his toes all the while your name falls from his lips.

And once he’s done, he’s quick to bring the cloth up to his mouth, tongue lolling against the material as he tastes his cum and you mixed together, a flavor that gets the last sad little spurt of cum oozing from his swollen tip, the sensation making him groan lowly.

Really, he just likes the taste of you – and once your physical relationship begins, this penchant he has for tasting you only increases.

Now, he doesn’t have to be sneaky – no longer does he have to rely on placing your used utensils in his mouth in order to get even the slightest bit of you on his tongue.

Now he can just wrap an arm around your waist and press you close, mouth dipping down to slot his lips against yours, a moan muffled against your mouth because god, you’re so sweet and warm and he wants to drink in everything you can give him.

(Yes you’ve watched him kiss you and pull back, swallowing and licking his lips, telling you that your spit tastes delicious, my flame, please give me more before diving back in, kissing you and sucking on your tongue so hard you can practically feel his desperation.)

Now he can press kisses against your neck and jawline, tongue lathing up and down your collarbones while he licks and sucks, the dark bruising making his eyes light up and his breathing a bit uneven.

(Normally Kyojuro is strictly against harming you, but there’s something about hickeys that makes him sway ever so slightly on this rule. Perhaps it’s because he’s the cause of the dull pain, or maybe it’s because every time he’s working at your neck and shoulders you always let out these little whines that go straight to his cock, your fingers gripping tighter at his hair. Sometimes, when he’s particularly pent up and desperate for you, he swears he can even feel your cunt throbbing through the layers of clothing separating you, as if you’re just as needy and frantic for him as he is you. Ah, what a lovely thought.)

Now he can just gently press you against the wall, getting to his knees and throwing your leg over his shoulder while he pushing the pretty robe he’d bought you up to your hips, exposing the skimpy panties he'd bought for you as a present.

(They’re red, of course, with pretty lace details around the edges and a little bow at the very top, almost as if you’re a present for him to open and play with. He’d bought them for you before he’d stolen you away, gifted them to you with a bright smile and not an ounce of shame, and had insisted you wear them despite your discomfort after noticing an odd stain on  them – one that left a dark spot that Kyojuro refused to explain, only laughing and pressing a kiss to your cheek when asked.)

He’ll lick over your clothed cunt, humming against you and chuckling when you squirm at the vibrations. He’s suckling at your clit over the cloth, those eyes of his staring up at you from between your legs, the taste of you strong and making his mind spin even before he’s actually touching you.

But soon, Kyojuro can’t settle for just your phantom taste – he needs more, needs you, and so he’s suddenly standing up, picking you up with no effort and settling you down onto the bed, immediately laying between your legs. He’s spreading your thighs and licking his lips, rolling your panties down and off your legs before absolutely devouring you – he’s licking and sucking loudly enough to make lewd, wet suction noises fill the room.

There’s wet schluck-schluck noises ringing in your ears as he pushes a finger inside, all the way down to his second knuckle and curling them, the pads of his fingers brushing against the spot that gets you moaning and your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. All the while he’s playing with your clit, tongue tracing shapes and spelling his name, humming and moaning and sucking at you like a man starved. His stamina is high, and he’s keeping up the pace until you’re clutching at his hair and moaning his name like a prayer, the pleasure making you writhe and gasp and gush all over his fingers and chin.

But once Kyojuro gets a taste of you, he’s not simply satisfied with just one orgasm – he needs more, to feel you clenching down on his fingers and your clit throbbing as he fucks you through the high.

He’ll simply laugh at your whines of too sensitive, I can’t Kyo please, keeping his steady pace and pressing a kiss against your clit that makes your hips jerk.

You can do it, he’ll tell you, slick and your cum smeared all across his lips, chin and cheeks. You can give me another one, let me make you feel good, my flame.

And even while he’s fucking you his fixation doesn’t decrease – you feel like heaven around his cock, sure, with your warm, soft walls clenching down on him and your slick coating his thighs, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from snaking up and pressing against your lips.

He'll push them inside two at a time, hot breaths against your ear telling you to suck, ngh suck for me, his hips snapping into you with more fervor as he feels your lips close around him, throat tightening and your little gagging noises as he thrusts his fingers in and out.

You’re just so beautiful, and although his fixation mostly manifests as him using his mouth on you, he certainly won’t deny you if you were to flip the script. You get on your knees for him, licking your lips and pawing at his cock over his pants?

The pants are off faster than you can blink, his hand already at the back of your head and guiding you down his length, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a low groan of yes, o-oh, you’re so warm, I’ve been thinking of this all day-!

He won’t deny you when you press kisses against his exposed chest, your tongue tracing around his sensitive nipple and feeling the skin pebble, even grazing your teeth against the sensitive skin just to hear his breath hitch and the audible gulp that follows.

He just thinks the ultimate form of intimacy is to taste each other, and Kyojuro is always eager to get closer to you, and to prove just how much he loves you – and, of course, just how depraved you make him.  

Breeding

Kyojuro will get you pregnant. It’s not even a matter of discussion as far as he’s concerned – yes, it’s a sexual fantasy for him to stuff you so full of his cum that you’re literally leaking it, but it’s more than that. He genuinely wants to build a family with you, to have you as his sweet little housewife that he dotes on and provides for and cares for, and to complete the fantasy he needs a few children running around.

He gets this dopey grin and blushing cheeks when he imagines you with a toddler clutching at your leg and a baby nursing at your breast, something inside his chest swelling with pride and happiness. And so, every time he fucks you he will be finishing inside, stuffing you as full as he physically can.

The image of you pregnant gets his breathing shallow; something about seeing you round, your breasts swollen and nipples so sensitive you sharply gasp when he so much as brushes against them making him shift his pants, his skin feeling hot and clammy. He likes the idea of knocking you up so that you’re completely, utterly dependent on him for every little thing – you’ll be so sweet and lovely and incapable, allowing him to attend to your every need. You’ll need him to walk any significant distance, to reach things on high shelves, to help you get up and out of chairs, to help with anything, really, and Kyojuro is more than happy to aid you in your time of need.

But even outside of actually getting you pregnant, the kink also satisfies some of his more shameful needs, some of his more masculine and carnal needs. After all, breeding you means coming inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum, something only he can provide you.

There’s just something about the idea of leaving you full with something so utterly him that gets him hot under the collar, his fingers twitching eagerly because just the thought makes him desperate to get his hands on you. He's not too terribly possessive, all things considered, but something about the idea of his cum settling inside you just feels right in a way he can’t describe, almost as if you were made to take it. As if you were made to take him, really, if the way your perfect little pussy sucks him in so well is any indication.

Besides, every time he finishes inside he’ll pull back and just stare, watching with bright eyes at the way his cum slowly dribbles out of you, white staining against the curve of your ass, his fingers coming up to scoop up the leaking bits and stuff them back inside you.

(And he will finish inside every time he fucks you, and even when your fist is wrapped around his girth or your lips are pressed against his base, tip making you gag at how deep he is in your throat. He’ll warn you with a near-yell of ‘m close before pushing you down and spreading your legs so quickly that it knocks the breath out of you, nestling his tip just inside you and coming, the sheer volume and force of the spurts making you squirm because you can feel it.)

There’s lots of talk about how you mustn’t waste anything he gives you, how you must keep every last drop inside you, his voice strained and breathy as he groans that into your ear, a thrust punctuating each word and making you clutch onto him for dear life because he’s fucking you meanly, every clap of his hips against yours making you physically scoot up until you reach the edge of the bed.

There’s something about the idea of stuffing you full of his cum that makes Kyojuro near feral, his hips seeming to have a mind of their own as they snap and pound against you, his cock pushing deeper and deeper and deeper, tip nestling further inside you with every thrust.

While he’s fucking you, the only thing running through his mind (aside from the constant stream of compliments towards you and the indescribable feeling of how fucking warm you are) is a mantra of needing to get deeper, to go as far inside you as he can, to press right up against your womb so that when his abs flex and his pace stutters, a shallow gasp and low groan rolling past his lips, his cum can shoot directly where it needs to go. It can spurt and splatter and flood your cute little pussy, each twitch of his cock giving you more and more and more, until it’s literally leaking out of you, even while he’s still stuffed inside you.

And Kyojuro, ever the talkative lover, is more than happy to narrate the process – his orgasms always follow a rather wanton groan of your name, his voice strained and uneven as he tells you to take it, o-oh take it take it take it, take every fucking drop ngh yes yes yes!

He’ll press down on your stomach as he finishes, the sensation making you impossibly tighter, the motion forcing his cum to shoot even deeper into you, his eyes wide in wonder and lust as if he can see the way his cock is twitching and throbbing, pushing out everything it can give you.

His voice nearly awed as he asks if you feel that, my love? I’m breeding this lovely pussy, does it feel good? It’s feels likes heaven for me, and soon you’ll be rounded and glowing and carrying my child.

He’ll pause to press a kiss against your nipple, tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin, before cupping it with his hand and squeezing, his own voice turning a bit darker as he tells you that soon your breasts will be so swollen and heavy, you’ll be feeding our child, nursing our baby…

He sucks at your nipple, hard. I’m sure you’ll taste divine – you’ll give me a taste too, I’m sure.

He’ll run his hand along your stomach, sucking in a sharp breath and telling you that you’ll be full soon, that you’ll be swollen and big and his, your body proving to him exactly who you belong to, exactly who kisses you and fucks you and gives you what your body is made for.

He just really, really wants a family with you, so don’t be surprised when he forces you to lay by his side for hours after sex, his cock keeping you stuffed full, not allowing a single drop of cum to leak out, his hand pressed firmly against your stomach as he rambles on and on about baby names and how he’ll be there for the entire birth, how he hopes the baby has his hair and your personality, how he’ll protect the both of you from demons until his dying breath.

It would be sweet, really, if he wasn’t so insistent, if he didn’t have twenty names already picked out for you to choose from, if he wasn’t telling you that according to Shinobu the part of your cycle you’re currently in is your highest window of fertility, if he wasn’t clutching onto you and saying when you’re pregnant instead of if.

And when his cock slowly hardens once more inside of you, you’ll feel the palpable change in the air as he kisses your neck again, his hips slowly starting to move as he tells you that he has to make sure it took, I have to make sure you’re carrying my child… Open your legs for me, my flame, let me give you more of me.

And when he comes with a gasp of your name a few minutes later, even more cum flooding you and sending some dripping down over his cock and onto his pelvis, Kyojuro can only lick his lips, the sight of you with a rounded belly and swollen breasts making him near feral.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Marking

While Kyojuro isn’t the most possessive, there’s something about the idea of physically marking you as his that gets his blood rushing, heat blooming on his cheeks, a wide grin splitting across his face.

Just the thought get him eagerly pulling you closer, nudging his nose against your neck, sighing heavily and letting you feel the way his pants slowly grow tighter, his breathing growing heavier as he groans your name.

There’s just something about the idea of claiming you as his own that makes some primal, animalistic part of him light up, so be prepared to be absolutely covered in marks as your sexual relationship progresses.

Hickeys will cover nearly all of your skin, leaving no area untouched by his lips and teeth. He’ll leave love marks (as he calls them) in the shape of a heart situated on the plane of your chest, nestled right up your breasts. As he’s fucking you he’ll kiss over the area again, his hips never slowing their pace as he starts whispering your name under his breath, nearly chanting it with every clap his balls against the curve of your ass.

A ‘K’ and an ‘R’ are placed on your inner thighs, so that when he sits beside you he can reach over and grip the area, sending you a blinding grin and telling you that even under all the layers of clothing he can feel your love. Once the marks fade he’ll spend hours between your legs again, remaking the hickies so there’s a letter per leg, so that every time he spreads them, excitement bubbling in his chest, he’ll see his letters, a mark of ownership, a reminder that you’re his and his alone, that your pretty skin and plush thighs and that lovely little pussy of yours is completely and utterly his.

It’s just fucking hot to Kyojuro, so when he pins you down, your body nude and bared for his eyes, know that he’ll kiss you, lips working eagerly against your own, tongue coaxing yours in an effort to get you to engage, groans and grunts tumbling into your mouth as his hands wander down to grope at your breasts, squeezing your side, toying with the pubic hair settled on your navel.

He’ll kiss you, then let his lips travel down, dipping to your neck to suck harshly against the skin, then down to your collarbone to lick and suckle, then to your nipples to bruise the area beside your areolas, then down your stomach and to your thighs, mumbling praises and sweet words of affirmation as he goes.

You’ll wince and avoid looking at yourself in mirrors after he’s through with you, but just know that Kyojuro does it all out of love.

He doesn’t enjoy hurting you, but the pleasure and pride that swells in his chest when he sees you with his markings outweighs his small worries at your bruising.

Just let it happen, really, because he’ll be getting his way, one way or the other, and while eventually the dull throb and sting as he works section after section will grow slightly painful, at least his fingers are talented – after all, you can handle the hickies when he’s making you gasp his name, cream on his fingers and beg for more, more, more, right?

Choking

While Kyojuro is generally the more dominant partner in bed (regardless of your personal tastes – he likes to feel like your provider, so even if you want to peg him until he’s a sobbing, begging mess, little mewls of your name and p-please, need to come so bad slipping past his lips, you’ll likely be the one trapped below him), there’s a certain allure to letting you take charge for a night every few weeks, letting you take the reigns for a few minutes.

There’s something oddly sexy about watching the way the power slowly goes to your head, how your eyes grow darker, your actions more passionate as you bounce up and down on top of him, your hands planted against his chest, pinching at his nipples, shoving your tongue down his throat all while he groans and enjoys the view.

He just likes to see the way you use him, his body simply a toy for you to get off on. It’s the ultimate form of caring for you – and seeing the way you’re so unabashedly pleasuring yourself gets his blood pumping so hard he can hear it in his ears, the sight of you so raw and natural and not at all the shy little thing you were when he first spread your legs all those months ago making him lick his lips in anticipation.

And yet, there’s a certain habit you’ve developed in these moments that Kyojuro absolutely cannot get enough of – that is, when your soft fingers wrap around his throat, your skin against his, pressing just hard enough to disrupt the blood flow to his brain, the feeling dizzying and disorienting and wonderful.

His eyes literally roll to the back of his head when you do this, your hips snapping and scooping above him as you tell him to hold it in, be a good boy, don’t come yet.

He’s groaning and wildly bucking his hips, face turning slightly red as you lean down to kiss him, your lips harsh and demanding, the kiss rough and forceful.

It’s heaven, Kyojuro thinks, as you clench around him, your fingers following suit, his cock twitching inside of you, his hands coming up to grope and knead at your ass as he bounces you harder and harder, the desire to come inside you suddenly washing over him.

It’s something he finds himself craving as time goes on, and so while he’ll more often prefer to be the one on top, in charge, calling the shots, be prepared for the nights where he wants to let you do all the work.

But really, once you’re straddling him, sinking down onto his drooling, leaking tip and grinding, your hand wrapped around his throat, he’ll often do most of the ‘work’ – desperate, sad little humps up into you with his heels planted against the futon mat that’ll leave you gasping and going limp, his cock reaching parts of you unexplored by your own fingers.

And when you lean down over him, your pretty face just inches away from his own flushed you’re your fingers wrapped around his neck, Kyojuro will eagerly obey when you tell him to open wide, his cock throbbing inside you as your spit lands against his tongue, your taste and the lewd sight of you spitting in his mouth making his orgasm hurtle towards him. As soon as he eagerly swallows his eyes are going wide, his words rushed and slurred and strained as he tells you that it’s so fucking good, oh here it comes, shit it’s coming, it – it’s-!

He just really, really likes the way it feels to have your pretty fingers around such a vulnerable area, so get used to it – because Kyojuro is a passionate man, and as his lover, you must be just as passionate, too. 

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Kyojuro is vocal about every sexual desire he has with you. He doesn’t believe in keeping secrets, especially in the context of sex where you could both be benefitting.

He wants to share every explicit, lewd fantasy he has of you simply because he thinks you might enjoy it – you might have even been dreaming of doing the same thing, you were just too shy to tell him.

(He knows how you are – how you’re so very shy, always seeming to skirt away from him when he nears you, your wide-eyed looks you send him when he’s talking to you, how your hands are clammy and you’re shaking ever so slightly when he pulls you in for a kiss with far too much tongue.)

And so, Kyojuro is open and honest; painfully so, really. He wakes up one morning with you in his arms, your eyes already open as he leans in and kisses the shell of your ear, sighing and pressing his navel against your ass, telling you in that husky morning voice of his that he’d dreamed about tasting you until you cry, my flame, doesn’t that sound nice?

(And of course, you’ll not be leaving that bed for hours after the fantasy is spoken out into the air – Kyojuro is nothing if not determined, and his tongue seems to never tire.) After returning home from a mission, he’s announcing to you that he’d passed by a risqué local shop and saw a drawing of a man and a woman where the woman was on top and oh, why didn’t you tell him that women sometimes enjoyed being the more dominant partner?

You’ll be left to flounder, unsure of how to respond, but it’s too late because Kyojuro is already laying down on his back, his pants pulled down to his knees and his expression eager, the smile across his lips blinding as he tells you to come here, my love, the woman in the drawing looked to be enjoying herself, and I want to see that on you as well!

However, because he has no sexual experience before you, he doesn’t harbor any particularly intense fantasies for you. He’s excited and aroused by the simple, straight-forward sex that he knows produces a child – missionary, mostly, or positions that involve spreading your legs and maintaining eye contact while he slides in, a hand cupping your cheek while he groans and tells you in a strained voice that you’re so beautiful, you feel so – ngh, so good!

And so, after a one-off chat with Tengen about wifely matters (he’s announced to the other Hashira that he has a wife, though none of them have met you or know that you aren’t actually his partner, just the woman he considers to be his wife), Kyojuro asks with complete sincerity if his friend has any advice in the bedroom.

Tengen had just laughed and clapped Kyojuro’s back, telling him that sex should be flashy, so don’t do the same things over and over! Mix things up – women love variety, so try some new positions, or a different method of pleasuring her!

When asked what other positions to try, Tengen had grinned, his eyes widening a bit as he said bend her over, she’ll feel you deeper and the view will drive you crazy.

And so, that night after coming home to you, he’d gulped, his eyes narrowing in on your ass, his voice a bit gruff as he told you to come with me, my love, I want to try something new.

“Are you comfortable?” Kyojuro asks, though he sounds distracted.

Swallowing, you nod, embarrassment clear on your face. This position was beyond humiliating – Kyojuro hadn’t explained much when he approached you earlier in the evening, simply looking at you with those unblinking eyes and telling you to get undressed because he had something new he wanted to try out.

And now, here you are, on your hands and knees on your shared bed, clothing neatly folded in a corner of the room. It’s cold, and the air is making goosebumps prickle along your skin and your nipples stiff.

If Kyojuro notices you shiver, he doesn’t say anything – instead, you hear him gulp, the sound suddenly much closer.

“You’re very beautiful…” He whispers, so quiet and unlike him that it makes you glance back over your shoulder. The sight you’re met with makes your embarrassment deepen, a mixture of shame and bashfulness seeping into your every bone.

He’s standing behind you, those wide eyes of his fixated on your exposed cunt, with his cock in hand. Thick fingers wrap around his base, visibly squeezing, his balls periodically twitching even without being touched. He looks entranced – awed, almost, presumably by the sight of your ass presented on display like this.

“Kyojuro…” You start, anxious to just get started so he’ll stop staring at you like you’re something holy and sacred. Wiggling your hips, you hope he’ll get the message.

Instead, you hear a muffled groan and suddenly feel air brushing against your sensitive folds, the sensation making your arms feel a bit weak. You feel a sudden slimy warmth, and wet noises ring in your ears as Kyojuro presses his tongue against you, dipping in briefly to taste and rub at anything he can reach. Heavy breaths are muffled against your cunt, but the insistent press of his chin against your clit makes it difficult to focus.

“Kyo – oh, Kyo please need you to fuck me, don’t tease me.” Your whines make him pause for a moment, before he slowly pulls back, pressing a single long kiss against your folds that has you biting your lip.

“Very well, you’ll have to tell me how it feels, love. Tell me everything you’re feeling.” He asks, gripping his base again and rubbing the tip through your folds, collecting your slick at the tip. His breathing is still loud, the way he’s sucking in air through clenched teeth making it obvious just how strongly the sight of you bent over and exposed like this is affecting him.

You look gorgeous – he’s intimately familiar with what’s between your legs, of course, but this view feels so lewd. He can see your pretty hole clenching every few moments, tufts of hair decorating the pretty sight, and he can even see your other hole, the one you always tell him not to touch with a squeak and a slap of his hand.

Soon he’s swallowing hard and pressing himself inside, the breath sucked out of his lungs because somehow you feel tighter like this, your cunt seeming to suck him in so tightly that it almost hurts, the sensation making his knees buckle slightly.

And you’re certainly not helping, either – as you’d promised him you’re gasping, telling him in an airy voice, “It’s so big – you’re so big, Kyo, fuck you’ve never felt so big, I can’t – you have to wait a second, please, ‘s too much-!”

And he does, with bared teeth and hands that find purchase at your ass, just as Tengen had told him to do. He’s groping at the soft flesh, grabbing handfuls and pulling them apart to get a full view. A whine slips out of him at the lewd sight of his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, the angle letting him see just how you stretch to accommodate him, even seeing the edges of his balls pressed against your thighs. It’s just too much, and as soon as your shaky ‘okay’ registers, Kyojuro’s immediately thrusting.

And the sight of him moving is even more erotic – pulling out of you and seeing the ring of white coating his base makes him lean more of his weight against you, trying to get more leverage as he thrusts back in so that he can fuck you harder, wanting to get impossibly deeper to feel more and more of you. He’s entranced, watching with wide eyes the way he appears and disappears inside of you again and again, almost lost in a trance.

Your noises have him grunting, the desperate whines and rhythmic gasps every time he sinks back into you making his orgasm come creeping up much too quickly. He’s just too overwhelmed, your pretty moans and cries of his name making his head spin.

Soon he’s bringing a leg up and pressing his foot flat against the ground, gaining better leverage and an angle that makes you scream, your cunt squeezing down on him so tightly that he struggles to pull back to just his tip. He’s seen animals do this in the wild – he’s fucking you like an animal would, mounting you and grasping at your waist to pull you back against him harder, anything and everything to get him deeper inside, to reach a part of you that he’s sure no man or even you have touched.

You’re just too damn pretty, and as he gasps your name and clutches onto you tightly enough to leave bruises while ropes of runny cum fill you, Kyojuro decides that he needs to try out all the other positions Tengen had told him about – perhaps he’ll try something called 69 with you tomorrow.

Maybe that’ll get you to scream his name like this ‘Doggy’ has.

[kupidachillea]

Achilles x You x Patroclus hcs

Author note: this took way too long. But this is respond to the request I got for more of these two and the reader. Ngl- I’m with them- I’m a sucker for those boys (Patroclus save me-)

TW (Trigger warning): Not much. It starts off as fluff then slowly branches into angst sort. Has a few Yandere themes. Achilles being possessive along with Patroclus. Slightly out of character (but hey, it’s a fan fic). Achilles and Patroclus are lonely lads and want a third-

CW (Content warning)⚠️: Slight coercion, manipulation (?), drugging with magical fruit. Forced imprisonment (?), Achilles and Patroclus are being selfish. This takes place in the modern world.

Basic summary: What happens when you decide to visit the underworld and meet two long dead heroes? Do you make new friends and form a bond or do you awaken something darker..?

🌿- You were granted permission to visit the underworld. A privilege that wasn’t given to many. It wasn’t as simple as finding a secret passage and letting yourself in.

🏺- No, Hades had gotten more stricter with all that. Not like the days of old where many heroes and mortals were able to just waltz on inside the land of the dead. You, however, were blessed enough to have the opportunity to explore and experience this world. Hades was kind enough to pardon you. As long as you followed a few simple rules of course.

🌿- One such rule was ‘Do not eat of any fruit or food in the land of the dead.’ Of course you took in his words and tried to honour them as best you could..however the moment you were granted access, that important rule slipped your mind. Now only full with excitement and wonder.

🏺- You would traverse through the foreign terrain and territory of the underworld. Occasionally seeing Hermes and giving him a greeting or so. You saw unique plants and creatures..not to mention the Shades.

🌿- For the most part the Shades were like people, living their lives in the Asphodel fields. Most of them paid you know mind while others would give you a simple wave.

🏺- Eventually though m you find yourself in the Elysian. You weren’t aware that you had traveled so far until a certain fiery blonde approached you.

🌿- He was a bit taller than you, piercing green eyes and olive skin. He looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place where you had seen him before. “A mortal in the land of the dead? Haven’t seen one in years…” He would mutter. A slight confused smirk on his face as he took you in.

🏺- He had that thick Greek accent that Hades would have and that’s when it hit you..this must be Achilles. He was a bit surprised to see a human all the way down here unscathed but he actually didn’t mind all that much, especially after you introduced yourself.

🌿- The two of you got to talking as you both walked through the valley together. He would ask you about how you ended up down here and you would explain your story. Of course he was a bit confused but he seemed to understand for the most part. It’s been awhile since he had a conversation with the living..and he was enjoying this little blessing in disguise.

🏺- Soon enough you both stumbled upon another man. He was a bit taller than Achilles (even if he was sitting by a tree you could tell) and his hair was a dark brown with lovely curls..his eyes were as grey as a brewing storm. His skin darker than the blonde next to you and he had visibly more scars than Achilles.

🌿- It took you a moment to realise that this was Patroclus; only when Achilles went up to greet the other did it finally click in your head.

🏺- Achilles obviously introduced you to his companion. And from there you all talked and got to know each other better. By the end of your visit you all made arrangements for you to come back and meet them.

🌿- So over the course of the next few days you’d come down to the under world just to check up on the pair of ancient warriors. You’d talk to them about life in the 21st century and they would teach about the ancient world.

🏺- Obviously you took this to your advantage. Who needs google when you have the (not so) living proof right in front of you?

🌿- But unbeknownst to you, a new feeling started to emerge inside both men. They liked you…they both did…every time you would come down to meet them, they dreaded sending you away when it was time to leave.

🏺- They hated it. They couldn’t help but worry. They didn’t think it was right. How could they protect you if you weren’t with them? Anything could happen once you left the safety of the Elysian.

🌿- They both ended up talking and discussing a plan..a way to keep you down here with them. There’s no harm in that..right?

🏺- “We’re just trying to protect the poor dear…right?” Patroclus would say, as if he was trying to justify what they were about to do to you on your next visit.

🌿- Achilles would scoff as an impish smile graced his lips. “Of course..the mortal should be grateful. It’s the only right decision..”

🏺- They both nodded to each other. Their plan was set.

🌿- The next time you came to visit, it went as usual. You all talked, joked, and conversed about each other’s day. You really enjoyed being around them and they LOVED being around you..

🏺- Eventually though, your stomach grumbled. You were hungry, you would let out a soft groan. Whining about how you wish you packed snacks. Both boys grinned..perfect.

🌿- They could now put their plan into action. Patroclus got up and went over to a fig tree, beckoning you over along with Achilles. “Well if you’re hungry, dear- why not take a fig from this tree..?” Patroclus asked softly. His voice was cool and calm, hiding any form of deceit or manipulation.

🏺- You would stare up at the fruit before going on your tip toes and picking one. It was a pretty looking fruit and you figured it would be the same as the ones on the surface..however just as you were about to take a bit you paused. Didn’t Hades warn you about having any form of food from the underworld?

🌿- Your thoughts were interrupted when Achilles spoke up. He could see the doubt and hesitation growing in your mind and he was desperate to make you forget your uncertainty. “What’s wrong? Do you not like figs? We could get you something else…” He would say.

🏺- You blinked and shook your head, telling him it was fine before you pushed your doubts aside and took a bite of the fruit. Besides, what could possibly go wrong? More than you think.. unfortunately for you..you had just made a grave mistake..

🌿- You felt a little weird but you brushed it off as being tired, meanwhile the two men looked much too happy that you had eaten the fig from this land. Their plan had worked, you were as good as theirs.

🏺- When you expressed you were feeling a bit drowsy they took it upon theirselves to get you a nice place to rest. Patroclus allowing you to rest your head on his lap as you drifted off. Achilles’ hand playing with your hair as you started to sleep.

🌿- “It’s alright, dear..just rest..we’ll be here when you wake up..” Achilles uttered, a slight smirk on his lips as he ran his calloused fingers through your hair. With his words you finally submitted to sleep.

🏺- It was done…you were now theirs. You had sealed your fate, for better or worse..

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Can you do a smut story with yandere wizard x princess reader after when he asks her for marriage and she rejected him?

A/N: This took so long omg! TW: Coercion, Dubcon, Mind Control, Cock-warming, Double Penetration

Your kingdom, full of crystals, herbs, and color is known for being THE kingdom of magic. Creatures of all kinds could gather in the forests near the human and humanoid villages to live peacefully. There were even marriages between witches, wizards, and the like with humans. Unfortunately, the union between the species gave your admirer, a lonely wizard by the name of Ramireth, a delusional glimmer of hope you'd love him. Even though you never met him, he spent years cultivating his appearance and magic so you'd like him.

But, today, was his lucky day. Your carriage had gotten robbed and hijacked by thieves, leaving you a mess in the forest. He carried your bruised and scratched body to his castle, using his potions and magic to heal you. By the time, you were fully recovered he was waiting on the couch in front of your bed.

"So it was you who saved me?" You ask, getting out of bed.

"Yes, indeed. It was I. All I ask in return is that you give me your hand in marriage," Ramireth asks, showing a mesmerizing purple and pink ring.

"I'm sorry, but is there something else?" You reply, feeling bad he bought the ring for nothing. "I don't know you."

The dark wizard's face goes dark for a while, but he then smiles.

"Well, yes, there is something else you could do. But you mustn't complain about anything I do," Ramireth says, making the ring vanish.

"...sure," You reply, feeling unsure of what's to happen.

Ramireth climbs onto the bed and kisses you. His long, black, nails gripping your soft hands as you lay in shock beneath him. He waves his hands making both his and your clothes come off, skipping straight to his favorite part.

"Don't worry, no harm will come to you," Ramireth whispers, biting your earlobe.

He kisses his way down to your pussy, kissing your clitoris. You hold in your moans, shifting your body in the bed. Ramireth looks at you before eating you out. His forked and long tongue enters your vagina, slithering around like a snake. You wrap your legs around his head, wanting him to stop teasing you and hurry up.

"Please, stop teasing me!" You whine, your head crashing to the pillow from sexual frustration.

Ramireth slides his tongue out of you and gives your pussy a big sloppy kiss. His drool slides down to your butthole, giving him the perfect lube for his second dick. Ramireth slides his tongue back in and starts to slide it in and out, giving you the pleasure you begged for. You moan, your legs squeezing his head tighter, nearly choking Ramireth, something he also enjoyed. As the tightness around his neck increases from your legs, he puts a finger in your asshole, letting your hole suck his finger in.

"Ah, I'm cumming!" You yell, going over the edge as Ramireth begins to finger your asshole.

You cum on his tongue, releasing his head. Ramireth sits up, panting from the sex act and lack of oxygen. Once he catches his breath, he lines up his two dicks with your holes. He enters them both at once, gripping your nipples like they're handlebars. His hips start to move and you grip his long red hair.

"Wow, you're better than I thought you'd be. Tell me, how does it feel having an inhuman wizard dick in you?" Ramireth says, his eyes looking like a snake's.

"Amazing! It feels amazing," You exclaim, pulling his hair and signaling for him to speed up.

Ramireth lets go of your nipples and opens your mouth. As he's fucking you, he spits in your mouth, letting some of it go down your chin. You see his fangs glimmering in the light and want them in your skin.

"Aw, princess. You want me to bite you?" Ramireth asks, grazing his teeth on your neck.

You nod yes and he chuckles, biting into your skin. You feel something warm go into your bloodstream, the feeling spreading to your whole body.

"Oh~" You moan, holding onto Ramireth as he thrusts in you, filling his bedroom with the sounds of skin slapping together.

"Oh, careful, princess. Once I cum in you, there's no going back," Ramireth warns, speeding his pace up. "You'll belong to me once you do."

"Please! Please cum in me!" You scream, not paying attention to his words.

"If you insist," Ramireth responds, slamming into your holes one last time, and painting them white.

"AH~ Ah, ah, ah, ah..." You moan, feeling the orgasm and venom rock your body.

Your cum spills onto Ramireth's dick, and you try to milk more of his seed out of him afterward.

"Haha, enough, princess. Your body needs to adjust to the venom," Ramireth says, pulling out of you and making you whine. "Don't worry we can do this plenty of more times as long as you put on this ring."

Ramireth summons the ring from earlier and your hand extends to his. He delicately slips the ring onto your finger, a bright purple light blinding you as any resistance fades from your mind.

"Perfect, now you're going to be my wife," Ramireth coos, kissing you and slurping on your tongue. "If any stray thoughts enter that delicate mind of yours, it'll just correct it to you being frustrated because you haven't gotten fucked by my dick yet."

You spread your legs for him, your legs going back to your head creating the perfect mating press position for your husband-to-be. He goes on top of you, putting both of his dicks over your pussy and asshole, and starts to go down on you.

"Ah~ AH!" You moan, feeling the cum from the previous round sloshing around.

"Oh-OH YES!" Ramireth moans, pumping into your holes. "Fuck, you're going to have my fae babies."

You grow more aroused as he mentions breeding you, and do your best to make sure you remember to say thank you to him for allowing you to accept this option of payback.

"Oh wow, you got more wet when I mentioned babies," Ramireth notes, pumping into your pussy. "In that case, I won't hold back."

He pulls his second dick out of your asshole, replacing it with a plug, and puts his second dick in your pussy. With your pussy properly stuffed, he continues to thrust into you, giving your double the pleasure. Your stomach starts to bulge from both dicks being inside you, and your legs start to quiver from your impending orgasm.

"Ah, ah, you have to agree to stay with me if you want to cum," Ramireth playfully scolds, preparing to cum himself.

"I'll stay! I never want to go back home! Just let me stay here with you!" You moan, wanting his cocks to fill you up.

"Hah, I'm cumming," Ramireth moans, both cocks shooting ropes of sperm into your pussy. "A-Ah! Oh God, you're making me empty out into your pussy."

"Oh, fuck yes!" You yell, taking his cum and reaching your climax.

You put your legs down and wrap them around Ramireth's waist as you don't want him to pull out.

"You're going to be such a good wife," Ramireth comments, licking your cheek and slurping up the sweat and spit that went down your chin. "Now be a good girl and let me sleep with my cocks in you so it can always be available for you to milk when I'm resting."

"Yes, husband," You reply, feeling aroused once again.

You start to push yourself on his cocks, restarting a cycle that would last all night.

[2-dsimp]

“Wish upon a unicorn’s horn~❦ pt1(?)”

Synopsis: You were head over heels for a unicorn, the son of a noble family of alicorns living amongst the clouds. Admittedly he yearns for you, you were the magic to his crafted horn. However, his “friends” are envious of his high profile and seek to sabotage his only source of happiness in his stuffy posh lifestyle he’s forced to bare, you.

Tw: gn! commoner reader x yandere! noble unicorn, elite college setting, toxic friends, unhealthy relationships, angst, crushes, mutual pinning, obsessive tendencies, misunderstandings, coercion, discrimination, manipulation, drama,

•:•.•:•.••:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:

You loved Reine, that awkward unicorn boy from the mythical lands. His long silky curled strands of rainbow hair, those jeweled red eyes that sparked, the fair skin with freckles dotting it. His bigs ears and well managed tail.

The only problem was that he was rejecting your every single heartfelt confession. No matter how well thought out or sweet it was. You were so very persistent in conveying your love yet he brushed it off as a joke.

What you didn’t know was that his two fake friends, Malak and Lera were behind it. influencing him to commit cruel actions with each rejection. They were only friends with the dorky twerp because their parents wanted close relations. With Reine’s filthy rich cooperate family, the Unias. They were a famous magic craftsman business within the mythical realm for all races.

_____

Sure enough Reine always felt bad at seeing your reaction. you Never shed a tear and just kept smiling as always taking every rejection in stride. Gods you were so precious, he absolutely wanted to fold every time you’d bat your pretty lashes and say you loved him. Presenting him the most personalized gifts that he knew must’ve taken so much time and energy. Yet his friends would always tell him otherwise to trash your feelings in your face. And being the gullible unicorn he was he did it.

“H-how long do I have to keep playing hard to get? T-this had g-gone on long enough right? I know now that they really do love me! Reine would stutter, he really just wanted to finally accept your endless confessions with countless more of his own. “No matter what I’ve said, They’ve been loyal in trying to woo me all semester! ”

But He held back on the urge since his friends told him. that being mean and playing hard to get was supposed to make you even more hooked on him. Which is why he went along with their cruel schemes of begrudgingly rejecting you at every opportunity you presented. Each time more harsher than the last.

The poor unicorn, just wanted you to crave him even moreso than you do now. Till you were unable to live without him just as much as he couldn’t without you. His master bedroom was testament enough with posters, tapestries, and pages upon pages of every interaction you guys had. He was grossly obsessed with you.

His friends sneered at him, not believing how gullible the insecure unicorn was, they all took him as a joke. Malak hooked an arm around his shoulder.”don’t be too hasty milord, obviously we gotta do one final test to make sure they’re not after your pureblood status right Lera?”

Lera, joined him rolling her eyes at Reine for how utterly oblivious he was for falling for their trick in destroying his love life. “Mhm, and today’s Valentine’s Day! So get this, once your love toy comes over to confess reject them ruthlessly. If they actually love you, then they’d put up with it.”

“Huh? But what if everything backfires? I don’t know this doesn’t seem any good at all.” Reine stammered nervously, The unicorn boy’s horn glowed a nervous orange. sweating seeing you come around, the last thing he’d want to do is drive you away. He absolutely adored you! But his friends said it’d be okay in the end. He could trust them right?

Truth be told he’d always accept your gifts, after piecing them back together he’d store them in his dwelling to admire and read through the love letters with a lovesick sigh. He was an absolute hopeless romantic at heart. He would’ve accepted your confessions a hundred times over if it hadn’t been for his so called friends meddling.

“Oh don’t be a wuss you’ve managed to keep the act up since the start of first semester se it through to the end doofus” Malak chuffed, smacking Reine in the back launching him forward just to see you bounding towards him holding tons of gifts, but most importantly a decked out Valentine’s Day card letter.

“Yup this is the final test of her love for you, we’re just looking out for a fellow noble unicorn” Lera chuffed flipping her mane as she and Malak both shared a devilish grin about how successful they are to ruin his love life.

.

.

.

————————-

A/n: let me know if I’m cooking in my attempt at diving back to my wattapad era, for a pt 2. 🫡

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Paper Trails Leave Bleeding Hearts

More Eldritch!König! This time we get a little bit further in the story. Sorry about the ending though! I should have another part to this soon though, so no worries.

Tws: coercion (legal)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Paper Trails Leave Bleeding Hearts

You looked down at your hand, the sigil scar that König had printed into your skin seeming to lose its luster. Once, it had been bright and energetic, flowing with currents of magic. When you looked at it again, it seemed to almost be fading.

Ever since discussing leaving the military, discussing your ‘relationship’ with König, he’d left you completely alone. You could only just barely feel the magic of his pact when you trained your skills. Your body ached with the loss of the immense power he’d pumped through your system. You hadn’t realised it before, but König had become a second body for you, a second reservoir of energy to manipulate for spells and rituals. Your own reservoir was notably weaker than most, and it had never been more apparent than the past week.

Your instructors had started to get antsy around you. Something about their weakest pupil being weaker than before set them on edge. It was as though they expected you to snap at any moment. Maybe they thought you were planning something, preparing for something greater, but you weren’t. You were just weak, tired, useless. You’d never felt so alone.

Your friends tried to ask you questions, but you never really knew how to answer them. How could you tell them that you’d insulted your summon? Summons weren’t meant to be insulted. They weren’t meant to pull away from their summoners. They were meant to obey, mind and body completely under control of their summoner as the two charged into battle. A summoner was meant to be perfect, immaculate, glorious. They were meant to be a pillar of strength and authority. König was meant to be under your thumb, but as of the past week you felt as though the roles had been reversed.

You crept back to your room quietly. Occasionally, somebody would elbow you as they passed by, snicker when you could do nothing more than shoot them a dirty glare. It seemed that the others were also picking up on your weakness. Without König to protect you, bullying had started to ramp up again. It had started small, just cutting you off in line, but you knew that it would get out of control soon enough. It was only a matter of time. With how the superiors watched you, it seemed they were starting to piece things together themselves. You shuddered to think of what they had in store for you.

Your room was just at the end of the hallway. A few more steps, a few more pushes. You could do it. You knew you could, but you were tired. You were so, so tired. You could feel yourself slowing down to a shuffle. Today had been especially hard on you, and now that you were so close, the doorway had never been farther. You walked, but it seemed to only leap further and further from your reach, playfully dancing beyond your fingertips. Was the hallway always this long?

You looked around. Was the hallway always this empty?

A hand clasped down on your shoulder. You spun around to look at the perpetrator, then up, up, up.

General Cusker looked down his nose at you, twin black stars burning with malicious glee. His dark lips curled into a treacherous smile as he spoke in a honey-smooth deep voice, “Good evening, sergeant. Tell me, do you have some time for a chat tonight?”

You didn’t, but who were you to talk back to a general?

“Excellent,” Gen. Cusker grinned with a pristine white smile, “I didn’t think so.”

You hadn’t spoken, but maybe your expression was enough.

“Come,” Gen. Cusker helped turn you away from your door, “I think we should have a chat.”

You nodded along mutely, so tired that words only coagulated on your tongue in a muddy mess.

“You know, it’s hard to get a hold of you,” Gen. Cusker remarked, “but I’m glad I finally managed to get a hold of you. After all, you’ve become something of a curiosity on the fort.”

“I have?” your words slurred together thickly.

“Most certainly,” Gen. Cusker ascertained, “I’ve heard many good things about you. You’re a good summoner, you know. Strong, loyal.”

“I thought they all hated me,” you admitted as you stumbled beside him.

Gen. Cusker clasped a hand around your shoulders to steady you, “Well, it certainly seems they push you to your limits.”

“I try my best, sir,” you muttered meekly. The general didn’t let go of your shoulders, merely pushing you forward to his office.

Gen. Cusker’s words slurred together in your mind. He was saying something important, but his words whispered through your ears like cotton clouds on a sunset. Here one day, gone the next. It all flitted by on summer winds. 

You were pushed into a dark office and ushered into a wooden chair. The room felt suffocating and thick. Something had the hair on the back of your neck standing on edge, standing attention like little soldiers when the general sat down.

Gen. Cusker turned on a lamp and sighed, “Much nicer. You know, my wife found me this lamp at a local flea market. I told her I couldn’t bring it into office, but she told me I had to. Who am I to tell my wife she can’t have what she wants? I didn’t work this hard for nothing, did I?” Gen. Cusker finally looked at you with a saccharine smile, “with your relationship with König, you must understand.”

“My… My wah?” you drawled sleepily.

Gen. Cusker snapped his fingers, “Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

“I’m trying,” you grimaced, humiliated by your own personal display.

“I’m starting to understand your superiors,” Gen. Cusker grumbled before clearing his desk, “well, if you’re so tired, I’ll do this quickly.”

“Do wha?” you squinted.

“I’m just asking for a simple exchange,” Gen. Cusker pulled a form out of a file, “it’s just a quick sign. I’ve been told you’ve got a good relationship with König. Is this true?”

“Eh…” you winced, “kinda? I don’t really know actually.”

“You don’t know?” the general paused momentarily, “how come?”

“He’s been distant,” you admitted, “it’s… It’s really bad. He’s not responding to my calls.”

“He’s not responding to your calls?” Gen. Cusker drummed his heavy fingers on his desk, “really? That’s… Interesting. Do you know why?”

“I…” you tried to subtly pinch your wrist to wake you up, “I think I offended him.”

“So he’s not so close to you right now/” Gen. Cusker’s intense eyes bored into your soul.

“Not right now,” you admitted.

“So then you’re a bit distant right now?” Gen. Cusker pressed further.

“Not really.”

You shrunk back in your chair as Gen. Cusker drummed his fingers against the table again. He glanced behind him at the flags by his desk, then back to you with a perplexing expression. He smiled and you felt the temperature of the room drop.

“I’m going to offer you a simple deal here,” Gen. Cusker pulled out a pen, “and it might seem a bit radical, but I think it might be of interest.”

You nodded along slowly.

“König is an incredible summon. He’s the most powerful one on the entire base. He’s almost at a godlike level,” Gen. Cusker explained slowly as he templed his fingers together between you, “a summon of his power is capable of turning the tides of war. He could level a small country in ten seconds flat.”

You waited for him to continue.

“If you were to give another summoner König, someone who could control König properly, you could bring in an era of peace humanity has never known before.”

You blinked. The cotton in your mind slipped out of view just enough for you to gather your bearings. You sat up in your chair and frowned.

“You’re trying to take König from me?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t phrase it that way,” Gen. Cusker admitted, “but if you give König to a more competent summoner, you could change the entire world. You could bring in an era of prosperity and wealth never before seen. You could save all of humanity.”

You looked down at your hands. Sure, you cared for König, but if what the general said was true…

You picked up the pen, “So, if I sign over König, what would happen to me?”

“You’d be given billions to live on your own,” Gen. Cusker told you.

“B-billions!?” you blinked in a stupor.

“Billions,” Gen. Cusker reiterated, “König is the most powerful weapon our country could ever get their hands on. All the nukes in the world mean nothing compared to a snap of his fingers.”

You shuddered at the thought. You knew König was powerful, but this powerful? This was what had been at your fingertips all this time? It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem right. No, something wasn’t right at all.

“If König is so powerful, why did you let me keep him in the first place?” you asked.

“Well, we wanted to make sure that König could be controlled,” Gen. Cusker explained, “it’s been centuries since something like König’s been summoned, and the last time plunged humanity into the dark ages.”

“The last reckoning,” you whispered.

“Yes, that was the last time humanity drew upon such power,” Gen. Cusker smiled and leaned forward, “but you could control him. If you pass your control to another, a more capable summoner, you can change the world.”

You looked down at the pen, sitting ever so slightly askew on top of the page.

“I need some time to think.”

Gen. Cusker frowned, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you have much time.”

You pressed your lips into a line as you met Cusker’s lifeless eyes, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have much time here,” Gen. Cusker repeated, “I want this done by the end of the hour. This is of utmost importance, surely you understand?”

“But… But isn’t this-”

“If you don’t hand König over willingly, there’s other options.”

You froze. You felt like you couldn’t even breath. You stared at Gen. Cusker with wide, wide eyes as the reality of your situation dawned on you.

“I can sign,” you whispered, “I can sign right now.”

Part Two

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

Summoned!Konig

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 6

Prompt: Dubcon/Noncon Pairing: Frat!Changbin x fem!reader WC: 2,170 Summary: Changbin’s boys went out for a boys night. Changbin stayed in to stay with you. You stayed in to work on your capstone.  This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Changbin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

TW/CW: DUB. CON. Coercion, overpowering, pestering, objectification, constant boundary violations. Pet names: love, babe, bunny boy. Unprotected intercourse. Oral (m. receiving). Dry humping. Masturbation (male)

“Surprise!” Changbin yelled as he threw open the door to greet you. The boys were all gone for once. All the boys except for your boy. Changbin instead of being social and going out for boys night had decided to forgo the movie and drinks for working out and lazing around.  Arms laden with a tote full of books, your overnight bag, and your laptop bag, you tried to feign excitement for him. “Yay?” You push past him to drop your things in the entryway. “It’s…it’s so quiet.” You marvel. “I can hear my own thoughts.”  Changbin attaches himself to you immediately, full weight pinning you to the wall as his hand delves into your jeans with a groan. “I’m gonna fuck you on every horizontal surface. Shit, even the vertical ones. Gonna make this apartment ours.” He promises as covers your neck and shoulder in kisses and bites.  You shove your elbow into his side, he barely budges. “Binnie,” you whine, “hey, hey, HEY! I have work! I have work!” Your plees crescendo into shouts, finally bucking him off.  He stands stock still, eyes wide and lip pouted like a puppy. “Study later?” Asking, aegyo voice in full effect. It’s hard not to roll your eyes as his switch up from domineering to begging. It was the duality of the man you loved.  “No, study now. The faster I study the faster we can fuck,” you say the magic word and watch his face light up. “Maybe fuck, MAYBE.”

 Your belongings practically levitate to his room, Changbin in full cheerleader mode. All in the name of getting your work done so that he can have his way with your cute ass. He tries so hard, really, he does. Practically hovering over you to make sure any need you have is met. Water? Check. Post-it notes? Check. Snacks? Check. He sits eagerly in his computer chair awaiting your requests, no matter how small.  But even the best of boys gets impatient with a cute girl lounging in their bed. Belly down into the mattress the natural curve of your spine up to your perky ass has him fantasizing about all the things he wanted tonight, each passing minute needing to narrow down his list. You suck on the cap of your pen, a habit that helped you focus, an oral fixation. Oh it was too much for him, watchin you poke at your upper lip before placing it just between them. He shoves his hand down his pants, thumbing over the head of his dick as it flexes.  You see him out of the corner of your eye, staring at you unabashedly as a conspicuous lump in his pants moves in time with his breaths. “Changbin, are you kidding me? Are you getting off in the corner?”  “You won’t stop sucking that pen so yeah. Yeah I’m getting off to my girlfriend. Sue me.” He keeps pumping his fist as you glare at him, gaze quickly shifting back to your laptop screen. Your mild annoyance is a little hot. Or is it your attention that he gets off on? Changbin doesn’t think much further about it, getting out of his computer chair to stand just over your shoulder. “Maybe you could help me, help you.” He offers, sliding down his sweats. “You know, something to have in your mouth.”  Rolling your eyes, you ignore him. You know if you give him and inch he’ll take a mile. The drooling head of his cock presses to the outside of your cheek gently, a physical suggestion paired with his words. Bold. You still stare at your computer screen, not even reading the article pulled up in your browser. He presses again, a strand of precum clinging to your cheek as he pulls back.  “Just a kiss, just a little peck? C’mon babe, I promise, you just keep putting that pen in your mouth and it should be me.” He whines, pairing his words with another jab, lower into the corner of your lips.  “I won’t be able to see my computer with your cock in my face,” you hiss, eyes unwavering.  Rubbing the side of his shaft against your lips he pouts. “It’s not that big. See? Just, just kiss the side for me. I won’t ask for any more, okay?”  With a sigh your lips pucker and softly peck his dick which seems to shut him up. He doesn’t stop though, continuing to let your lips rub against the velvety skin, teasing up along the veins. He knows eventually, eventually you’ll slip. And you do, your mouth doesn’t stay closed forever and eventually you refocus on the article and what do you do when you focus? You suck. It’s your habit. Lips curling around the spongy tip, letting it bump against the walled fortress of your teeth. Even this much has Changbin entranced, watching your cheek hollow as he tugs the head from your suckling lips with a pop. How easy it was with just enough persistence to slide even a little more inside with the next thrust, pressing out that same hollow leaving the imprint of his cock.  You don’t even realize that your jaw has slackened and he’s pushing further into your mouth, letting your teeth lightly drag along the shaft. It tingles as he shallowly thrusts against your tongue, slowly lapping at his slit. His gaze softens as he loses himself to the inviting warmth of your mouth, tugging your head into a better position, even as you fight to maintain some semblance of studying.  “Changbin! I can’t-” you start to try to tell him that you can’t see your work, but he doesn’t care.  “Just a little more love, a little more and I won’t bother you I promise,” he’s breathless as he uses the opportunity to shove himself even deeper, cock head pressing past the tight ring of muscle and into your throat. Nose pressed to the soft skin of his lower abs he fucks deeply as your body starts to fight him. Gagging and tearing up, your hands come to his thighs, trying to push off of him but he’s unrelenting. Finally you tap him twice and he releases his hold.  Mascara running and saliva clinging to your frow, you’re unamused. “Changbin let me finish. Then you can finish.”

 His cock is violently reddish purple and ready to blow. “What if-what if I just hump your ass?” Changbin tries to bargain. “You’ll be able to see your computer. I’ll be able to cum. I won’t get in your way at all I promise.”  “Seo Chang Bin. You keep promising-”  “I know, I know, I know,” he’s already straddling your hips, palms pressing your jean covered ass. “See? There’s no way for me to get in the way here. Please? Please I really, I won’t get in your way.” Turning over your shoulder to give him a withering glance, he sticks his lower lip out in a pout. “I’ll get blue balls please. Don’t give your darling boyfriend blue balls.”  “Going to wish I gave you blue balls,” you mutter under your breath. “Yeah, okay, fine. Hump away you dumb bunny boy.”  Without a second thought he roughly yanks your jeans and underwear down, just under the globe of your ass. The drag of the fabric burns slightly, much to your mounting annoyance. Even worse is his fingers, probing between your lush thighs to spread your gathered slick along your crack. “I fucking knew you liked it.” Changbin smirks, the smug bastard. Spreading your cheeks to accommodate his girth he slowly runs his spit soaked length along your crack.  You continue to try to read this stupid idiot fucking article as your big horny boyfriend uses you like a toy. Pulling your hips up just a bit to meet his thrusts, he relishes in the way you rebound and jiggle with each push and pull of his cock. While he’d prefer to watch your walls stretch around his girth, this will have to do. His thumbs keep him sandwiched between as he humps away, force dimpling your lower back.

 As much as you try to remain head down in your research, the twisting turning snake of desire is awake in your belly. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck him, it’s that you can’t fuck him right now. It would be irresponsible. To get into a good graduate program you had to be responsible, one of you did at least. His lewd grunts and rutting was not helping you stick to your gut. Fuck, your guts weren’t helping, winding like a spring, tension without relief.  It’s not enough, his grunts and groans of effort as he fucks the cleft of your ass filling the room. He adjusts you again, your hands clinging to the edges of your computer as he grabs your waist to arch your ass higher. God you’re glistening below him and he can’t help but note that you haven’t progressed at all in your reading. The clock ticks closer to his roommates coming home and losing the opportunity. A thick finger travels your slit, greedy eyes seeing nothing but opportunity. Changbin slips a single digit into your entrance, cunt squeezing down and pulling him in.  “Changbin! Are you kidding me?” Your head swivels around. Try as you might to sound stern, your leg twitches as he swirls his finger inside of you. Vision going fuzzy for a second you blink extra hard to force your focus. “Changbin, are you listening?”  He pulls his finger from you, licking it clean with a smile. “Yeah I am.”  You don’t even get to turn around before his cock is pressing into you, your arm lashing out to swat backwards at him. “I gave you a fucking inch, dickwad!”  “Just the tip, I just need to put the tip in. Please it’ll be like two minutes, I’ll cum fast, I promise I’ll cum so fast if you let me-” his mouth runs a mile a minute, like a caught con man. The tip is already well buried past your entrance, thick ridge popping in and out as his hips roll.  To your chagrin and shame it feels so good. You’re so wet and ready for him the slide is easy, your protests is hollow as your hips fuck back on him, eager to fill your walls more. “God damn it, fuck you’re thick. Fuck Changbin.”  “God, I know, and you’re taking me so well. I promise, two minutes,” he pushes deeper as he leans over you, closing the lid of your laptop and moving it safely to the side. It’s that small gesture that clues what’s left of your rational mind into the fact that you’re fucked. Not just fucked as in being penetrated, fucked as in brace for impact. Changbin braces himself against the frame of the bed, knuckles white, using every muscle in his body to rail you into the mattress.  You’re screaming and shaking, legs scrambling to get under you unsuccessfully. The speed and force is overwhelming, leaving you breathless with each percussive hit. Your hands find his arms, grabbing on and slipping and grabbing to try to rebalance yourself. Sweat from his brow drips onto your back. Neither of you breathe, Changbin gritting his teeth. He could at least keep this promise, two minutes.  Changbin can feel his peak coming, fucking blindly into your heat. Without warning your walls clamp around him hard as your feet kick and legs stiffen. Gasping your release floods his cock and ruins the sheets, leaving you ragged below him. Just like a little fuckdoll. The ringing in his ears all but forces a crazed tunnel vision. He’s been denying his release for so long, delaying it and saving it for your wet warmth. Ramming himself as deep as he can go he practically topples off the bed as he cums, grunt caught in his throat, sounding more like a half choked whine.

 Both of your releases spilling out and coating the back of your things and his lower abdomen he rolls the both of you to the side to keep himself from crushing you below him. Small after-shocks rock your bodies as you lay quietly together. Changbin takes mental stock of the physical damages; nail marks clawed into his arms (deserved), bed soaked through (a small triumph), potentially sore vagina (whoops), and a growing hickey on your shoulder that he hadn’t realized he’d left. His hand rests on your shoulder, raising and lowering with your slowing breaths.  “I can carry you to the bath,” he offers quietly. “If you want.”  “Did you cum inside me?” You hesitate for a second, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from him.  “I got carried away- I-, shit,” Changbin drapes his arm over you and squeezes. Comically this small squeeze is enough to force more cum to leak out between your thighs, emphasizing his answer.  You sigh. It would be fine. It was always fine. “A bath would be nice, babe.”

Yeah. That’s. Well. As a debrief I just wanted to say again. Even if a person seems to “want” something you should always ask for consent. Even if someone starts out wanting a sexual experience they can revoke it. Fantasies and experiences should be planned beforehand and both parties need to agree. Anyway. I think that’ll be about the heaviest it gets.

Sorry Binnie i love you so much. Sorry i made you a pest.

[kekewrites]

tw. Dark content, noncon, dubcon, creampie, size kink, magic onahole/toy/fleshlight, coercion, mind-break, corruption, obsession, gaslighting(?), objectification(?)

part 2 of the onahole troupe

***

"Sweetie~ Are you already out? Come on, you can still keep going."

Hot... It's so hot.

Whining, your body continue to bounce on him, hole swallowing his fat cock. Sweat and cum staining your thighs, sticky and wet as it mixes with your juices.

Such a hot sight. His hands gripping your hips, helping you bounce on him and sometimes meeting your hips with his own, making you whine and sob.

You were so sensitive, having no idea how much time have passed. How many orgasm he pulled out of you.

"I'm helping you, remember?" He sat up, wrapping his arms around as he pulls you close. "Ha... You're so cute. That bastard won't touch you anymore, ok? I'm here."

Barely hanging on, you nodded as your ears started to ring. If there was still a rational part of you awake, you would've find his words suspicious, but you were just too dumb for that. Blindly trusting your friend, believing him with your being.

He promised to help you.

So why does it feel like you made the wrong choice?

That tiny rational thought of yours was pushed as you felt his lips on your own.

***

It was odd how the phantom disappeared after his help.

Your complexion improved, the shadows under your eyes fading as if the weight of their presence had been slowly draining you all along. Sleep came easier now, uninterrupted by restless nights and unwanted pleasure, able to focus studying without it whisking your attention away.

Sitting in class, you were finally able to listen without dreading for the touches.t was freeing.

You were glad you told him.

Smiling a bit, you open your cellphone as you think of hanging out with them. You really missed them, thinking about how you three rarely hang out nowadays. It used to be so easy to hang out with your closest friends, without having to plan anything elaborate. Just a quick text, and before you knew it, you were all together. But lately, it was about you two without your more or less busy friend. You know how much he took his studies seriously, often holding back to invite him whenever you discover a film you'd both like to watch.

Determined, you found yourself texting him, sending him a little message of, "Are you busy? Let's meet at the library when it's lunch time!"

You nervously shifted on your sit as you await his reply, a minute after you feel your phone vibrate.

"Sure."

You couldn't wait for the class to be over.

***

"Hey, what's up?" You heard his voice as he sat down beside you. Your usual hangout spot, comfort place, and your solace before those events happened.

Beaming, you turned to him, grateful for the simple presence of someone you're comfortable with.

"Are you done with your studies? I was hoping we could hangout soon, all three of us..." You speak, your confidence dipping down as you let out the last part.

Resting his chin on his hand, "Hmm... We have a quiz for next week in my major," He observes as your smile fades, "But I suppose, I'll make time for you," He swears it's like watching a dog wag its tail as he see you regain your smile.

It couldn't hurt to relax a little, it's been a while since you two hangout. He did notice how you were with that stupid guy in the past few days

You softly clap your hands, "That's great! Oh, we should do a movie marathon!" As you babble your plans, he couldn't help but notice how more... alive you look compared to before. He was still wondering why you were so troubled back then, but he's glad you got it solved out.

Humming, you started typing on the notes in your phone, making plans and listing movies to watch, throwing in snacks to buy as well. It was safe to say that you're really excited to be able to be with your best friends.

It would be just a fun night with the guys, right?

***

"Come on, don't be upset. Something probably important came out that he won't be able to come."

It seems that the three of you wouldn't be able to hangout, as the two of you sit on the couch.

Grumbling, you hug the couch pillow close to your chest as you glance at the text message left by your friend. It was upsetting but you couldn't be that upset since he rarely wasn't able to come in your hangout session, and since he's the one who helped you after all.

"Yeah, you're right. It can't be helped, I guess…" you sigh, trying to hide your disappointment as you sink further into his couch. The soft fabric and cozy atmosphere of his apartment help ease your mood a bit.

"I'm sure the three of us will meet up soon. Plus, the two of us haven't hangout for a while."

Come on, it's not so bad to be alone with him, you know?

"Yeah, that's true," you say, trying to shake off the disappointment. You steal a glance at him as he queues up a movie. It's been a while since the two of you just hung out alone like this, and despite the change in plans, it feels nice.

As the movie starts, you realize he accidentally picked a horror film—complete with dark shadows, creepy music, and plenty of jump scares. You’re both laughing it off at first, but the sudden shocks get you clutching the couch pillow a bit tighter, scooting unconsciously closer to him.

The atmosphere shifts when an unexpected scene appears—a moment that’s more... explicit than either of you anticipated. You feel your face heat up as you quickly avert your eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and tension settle between you. You catch him glancing away too, clearing his throat nervously.

What is he, five? Getting flustered with such scene, not like he hasn't done any worse than it.

"I... think I need to use the bathroom," he mumbles, standing up hastily and heading out of the room, leaving you alone on the couch.

You’re left there, pulse racing slightly as you try to shake off the awkwardness.

This is bad, you suddenly remember all of your other friend's help. Clutching your legs close, you try to avert your attention somewhere while waiting for your friend to come back.

Though, you felt your stomach drop as that familiar and unwelcome touch came up.

***

What the hell is he even thinking?

He tries to find his reason as he stares at the onahole on his hand, that idiot's gift to him. It's been a week since he had last use this thing, yeah it felt good and feels like the real deal but after one use he never touched it again.

So why the hell is he using it while thinking of you? The same girl who's sitting on his couch right now, in his apartment?

His eyes glance at the lube on the counter, putting the wet lotion on his free hand. It's your fault he got hard, you were too squirmy and... cute. That shitty horror movie wasn't even that good with the corny soft porn scenes but you... were just having an effect on him. So damn shy and innocent reactions, he needed to get out before he'd lost his composure and pounce on you.

But he's not a brute, no he isn't like those rabid animals.

Imagining does not count, no, no, he's only letting his frustration out.

So with the touch of his fingers, rubbing the entrance of the onahole he let himself go.

***

Jumping from the couch, you looked around frantically as you felt that horrifying touch on your nether region. 

That's impossible! You though he already fixed it!

Silently crying on your hands, you tried to keep your noises.

You've experienced that ghostly touch countless times however this time, it felt a bit calculative yet desperate, as if another entity was touching you. It felt weird but you can feel how different this one was touching you.

Is there another ghost who's harassing you?

Will it ever go away?

You cried as you felt something big goes inside you.

***

Shit, he forgot how realistic this onahole was. When was the last time he used it? Weeks ago? He doesn't remember but he might use it again now. Since his darling is always inviting him to hangout, this little gift might save him from pouncing on you when you're just a little too cute for his liking. Not only that but because of the hectic projects and assignments coming in, he hasn't had the time to relieve himself.

His thrust is fast and uncaring, yet a bit desperate for release. He felt himself feeling more sensitive as he imagine if this was your cunt instead, squeezing and twitching around his cock. He loves how automated this thing was, his mind just running wild as he imagines you sitting alone in his couch unsuspected of his vulgar and filthy thought of you. It's wrong but it damn this onahole just feels so right.

Slamming himself on the tight hole, he pinch the little clit and felt the walls squeeze tight making him come undone. Hissing and twitching as his cock shoots down his massive load inside the toy. What a waste, it would've been better if he could shoot it down your womb. Exhaling, he slowly pulled out of the toy, savoring the way the wall clung on his shaft before his head pops off.

Fuck. He's really a goner now. 

He's no better than a scumbag for letting his mind wander to thoughts about his best friend, his childhood friend… his first crush, his first and only love. He remembers how he was when you two first met—a boy who struggled to connect with anyone. He didn’t see the point in making friends, preferring to stay on the sidelines, reserved and detached.

Though, him, was the exception as both of their parents were business partners and have good relationship with each other. It's only natural for them to build a connection, solely for maintaining good connections with their business partners. Over time, he realized how strangely alike the two of them were, as if they shared the same quirks and preferences.

Well, he shouldn't think of that while thrusting his dick on a toy but he can't help but reflect on the way they are alike. He certainly knows, that guy shares the same affection he has on you, and he hated how he can't feel jealous because... he's fine with sharing you if it's him. But he's a little pissed at how you two were hanging out lately, he only have himself to blame by taking his studies seriously unlike that guy.

That's not important now, he has you in his room alone with no one else to ruin your moment with him. Shit, he felt the toy tighten around him.

His mind goes blank as he felt himself getting closer.

***

"Hey, sorry I took a while, but I'm... back?" he said, sitting down on the couch. His voice trailed off, quieter and confused, as he noticed you hugging yourself with your head hung low.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, placing a hand on your back as he tried to see your face. His eyes narrowed as he waited for your response, only to widen when he saw your tear-streaked face.

"I-It... touched me again..."

"What do you mean?"

And you broke down, crying as you told him about the phantom.

Any sane person would be skeptical, hell they would probably put you in the asylum for the things you swore happened to you. He'd get you help if it weren't for that one specific detail, an oddly timed and complete coincidence. Where that phantom touched you the same time he had gotten the toy... and the way it touch you just minutes later he went to the bathroom.

No way...

Surely, it was just a coincidence...

He supposed testing that theory wouldn't hurt.

With a lousy excuse of getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, he went straight to the bathroom to take that toy, sure it was big enough to be seen by you, but the way you were staring down on the floor as you quietly sob made it easy to sneakily place the onahole behind the couch pillow. Close for his hand to touch but unnoticeable from your teary eyes.

His hand goes behind the pillow right where the toy is.

"Ah!"

It can't be... Such an impossible story.

"J-Just now... it touched me!"

His finger went in.

"No! It went inside...!"

This is crazy.

He knows it's wrong but watching you panic and look around with frantic and terrified eyes made his cock throb. Not knowing that the source of your trouble being right in front of you made it immoral, so bad, and it made his cock harden.

"Hey, I'll... chase out that bastard for you." His wandering finger pulls out of the toy, his other hand cupping your tear stained cheek, "You don't have to worry anymore. You said that guy made that phantom disappear, right?" He sweetly cooed, a rare tone in his voice, "Just trust me on this one like he'd done with you, yeah?"

Your back gently hits the couch as he straddles you, "Be a good girl and relax, I'm just going to help you."

Doubt and wariness swirls in that doe eyes of yours. He can see the uncertainty in that stupid head of yours, but he knew you'd agree with him. You always do.

"O-Ok... Please help me."

And he's right about that.

You're just too trusting, aren't you? Stupid girl.

It's your fault he's like this to you.

All your fault.

There’s a faint metallic click as his belt buckle comes undone, and the soft rasp of fabric follows as he frees himself from his pants. His cock springs free, the swollen head brushing against your inner thigh. He can't believe he's finally doing this. The girl he ever wanted right beneath him, all bare and for him to ruin.

It's fucked up how he doesn't feel guilty for doing this, doesn't feel guilty as he rubs his tip on your wet entrance. Everything about you is soft, the only thing he's afraid to do is to bruise your pretty skin. He can feel your breathe quicken, you heart thumping in anxiety and he smiles at that.

"I'll be... gentle." For now.

The blunt head nudges against your entrance, the slick heat of your hole enveloping him inch by inch as he presses into you slowly. Fuck. It's completely different from a toy. He wished he'd done it sooner, the walls of your inside and the wall of the toy was like night and day. His cock pulses within them, the heat and tightness driving him to the edge of his patience. Hissing in pleasure as your walls clenched around him.

"So cute..."

With that, he leaned down, his lips pressing against you. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you, owning you, just as his cock claimed your body. He knows he should let you adjust and wait for you to be ready but hell he'd wait for more than a second. Setting a fast pace, fucking into you with abandon, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises-- the one he was dreaded on doing. He panted, his head thrown back in ecstasy. 

If it were that easy, he should've done this sooner. Manipulated that stupid head of yours, your naivety being the one who'd get you in trouble when you were younger.

It was different back then when he was alone. Socializing was unnecessary and draining, didn't have any purpose or value to him. He supposed having one friend is enough, he didn’t have patience for others, especially kids his age who, to him, seemed immature and exhausting.

Then you came along with your bright smile, bold laugh, and endearing quirks. You weren’t stunning or wealthy, and your background was humble—a stark contrast to his world. And yet, every time you called him by that silly nickname you made up, something in his chest stirred, an ache he couldn’t ignore. A foolish girl, treating him as if he were just another friend, another kid to play with.

So why can’t he push you away? You're just like any other kid who wants his attention. So why is it so hard to say no to you?

You're the one driving him crazy. So you only have yourself to blame, this is only happening because you're letting him. You're the one doing this to your self.

He could feel the pleasure building, the pressure in his balls as he neared his release.

"Be my onahole, ok?" He demanded, his voice rough with lust. He needed to hear you say it, needed to know that you understood.

Your mind was swirling, head foggy as the pleasure was starting to mix with the confusion. As your cries grew louder, body writhing beneath him, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could feel the heat building, the tingling in his toes as his balls drew up tight.

O-Onahole? What's that? What is he talking about?

"Everyday, you'll be my onahole." he panted, his words punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the obscene squelch of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. "I'll save you from that phantom, ok?"

I don't know anything....

"Ok?!" he warns, hips losing their rhythm as his climax approaches, "Shit...!"

"Ah! I-I will! I'll become your onahole!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in your womb. He holds you tight against his chest, grinding into you to prolong the waves of pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," He praises breathlessly, peppering your sweat-dampened neck with kisses. "Taking my cock so well, milking me dry. That phantom is gone now that I'm with you."

All you could feel was the light kisses trailing on your neck to your cheek and finally on your lips.

"One more time? I mean you are my onahole now."

***

"Wow, you didn't hold one bit eh?"

His eyes narrowed as he saw him standing on the door with a smug grin.

"What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it?" His tone accessory as he cleans up the aftermath, gently tucking in your passed out figure on the bed.

"So defensive for what?" He chuckles, sauntering as he glance at your peaceful fresh-fucked face. Such a lovely sight. He  licks his lips at that but for now you'd need to get your beauty rest after a rough day. "So, did 'ya like your present?"

"..."

"I'd take your silence as a yes then." Giggling, he places his hand on his shoulder, "I knew you'd like it I mean, we are similar in taste after all."

His jaw tightens before sighing in defeat, "Where did you even get that toy?"

"Oh, some shady website~! I was planning to buy another one but the website mysteriously disappeared!" He exaggerate his movements which earned a grimace from him.

"Shut up, you'll wake her up."

"No, she won't. You made her pass out, how ungentlemanly of you."

"Says you."

"Whatever, I came to ask you a question," His hand drop to his side, his smug smile still on but something sinister behind it, "So, we're going to share, right?"

The answer should've been obvious but it was hard to let the word out of his mouth. Was it pride or possession?

"Yeah..."

"I knew you'd say that."

"But I want her on Mondays."

"Oh brother, why pick the worst day?" He grunts in disappointment.

"Because it's the worst day, I need her on that day."

[myvelvetvows]

Alice Heywood Musings… post lady whistledown reveal

tw: dissociation, emotional distress, coercion, manipulation, implied trauma

mentions: oliver heywood, juliet thorpe (indirectly), william erwood, cassandra lockridge

The night was a symphony of delicate laughter and whispered promises, a thousand glimmers of light. The Midsummer’s Night Dream ball was meant to be a fantasy—a night where the world forgot its rules and let magic breathe life into the air. But for Alice Heywood, it felt more like a cage. Her back was pressed against the cool column, her gloved fingers brushing lightly along the surface as though grounding herself to something real. The weight of her silk gown was familiar, the fine embroidery a testament to her skill and ambition. But tonight, it felt heavier than usual.

Too much.

Her head was spinning, her mind a labyrinth of tangled thoughts that refused to quiet.

Oliver.

Her heart ached at the thought of her brother—her protector, her confidant, the only person who had stood by her through everything. And now…Now, his world was about to be torn apart. A noblewoman. A secret affair. And a child. Lady Whistledown did not reveal the specifics but Alice knew it be a matter of time before that truth was known to the public. Alice had warned him. She had begged him to be careful, to understand that love between their worlds could lead to ruin. But Oliver… Oliver had always believed in the goodness of people. He had always been so much softer than her, so much more willing to give his heart without weighing the consequences. And now, the consequences were here. The whispers had already begun, slithering through the crowd like venom, their sting growing sharper with every passing moment. Alice squeezed her eyes shut, her jaw tightening as her heart twisted painfully. She had spent her entire life protecting Oliver. But this? This was beyond her control.

And then there was William.

Alice’s throat tightened as her thoughts shifted, her mind circling back to the man who had stirred something inside her—something she had not dared to name. She had not expected to care. She had not wanted to care. But William had been… kind. He had seen her beyond her needle and thread, beyond the polished façade she wore so carefully.

Cassandra, her friend.

Alice had seen it now—too clearly to ignore. The familiarity between them. The warmth in Cassandra’s smile, the way William’s gaze softened when he looked at her. They had a history.

And Alice? She had been blind.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her head bowing just slightly as her mind spun with the realization that she had been nothing more than a passing amusement. How foolish. She had built an empire with her own two hands. She had fought tooth and nail for everything she had. And yet… her heart had dared to hope for something more.

It was always going to end this way. Alice had never been the woman men chose in the end. She was too sharp, too independent, too ambitious for their delicate tastes. And now, William has proven that truth once again. But none of that compared to the weight pressing against her chest—the weight of her secret. Her own carefully guarded truth, now dangerously close to unraveling.

They know.

Not everything. Not yet. But Lady Whistledown’s column had come too close. Too close to the truth that Alice had buried so deeply it had nearly suffocated her.

“Miss Heywood has been paid off by a noble family to keep a secret that threatens their reputation, all in return for her victorious success in Mayfair.”

Alice’s hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms beneath her gloves.

They don’t know. They can’t.

But the implications were there, hovering just beneath the surface like a shadow she could never quite outrun.

Blood money.

The fortune that had lifted her from the ashes of ruin. The money that had secured her future, built her dream, and carved her place in Mayfair. Money that had come at a price she would never speak aloud.

Money that had been forced upon her.

Her stomach twisted, her breath catching as the memories clawed their way to the surface—memories she had spent years trying to bury beneath silk and lace, beneath ambition and success. She had not asked for that money. She had not wanted it. But when it had been thrust into her hands, when the weight of silence had been pressed down upon her, what choice had she been given?

Survive.

That had been her only option. Alice had taken that money because she had to. Because her life—her brother’s life—had hung in the balance.

And now…

Now that money was her curse. It had built her empire, yes. But it had also built the walls that now closed in around her.

If they knew the truth…

Alice’s throat tightened, her eyes burning as she stared out into the glittering crowd.

They would tear her apart.

Because society did not forgive women who did what they had to do to survive.

No.

Women like her did not get to survive unscathed.

Her chin lifted, her expression smoothing into cold, calculated indifference as she pushed the storm inside her back into its cage. But the ache… the ache remained. Because beneath the silk, beneath the sharp wit and ambition, beneath the wealth that had come at such a terrible price…

There was still a girl who had once dreamed of a life where love was kind.

A girl who had believed that goodness could triumph.

A girl who had been taken from her.

And Alice Heywood would never be that girl again.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 21: Star Of Wishes [B8]

Pairing: Snape x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: OC’s home -> Severus’s hidden place

Continuation of: Prompt 2. Restless Waiting, 3. Snowballing, 7. Stormy Reunion,  8. Rosemary For Holly, 16. Keep Warm, 19. Hope & 20. Returning Home

A/N: TODAY WE WRAP UP SEVERUS’ STORY! I’m super drained, tbh, but I so loved writing this part and giving everyone that HEA even if it doesn’t happen until the very end so to say 😂🙈 We do get some lovely smut though, hope you'll enjoy the emotional ride of the intimacy too 🤭 This might be the last long fic for the year. I have 0 time, I have no idea how I’m gonna be able to write the next 3 fics and get them up but I’ll manage somehow 😂 I still don’t know what prompt 23 and 24 will be this year, I do know that tomorrows prompt will be the one I use to wrap up Turpin’s story — how, I have no idea yet. We’ll see 😂👍

+A/N: This part of the serial contains a relationship dynamic in the beginning that can be extremely toxic and dangerous when real, but this is FICTION, and as the author I have created this relationship with the intention of it being trauma-healing, safe, loving, and no harm have or will come to any of the characters due to the relationship or any acts of either of the characters. If you feel this relationship matches yours, PLEASE take a step back and really evaluate if you are in a dangerous relationship - if your partner is treating you in a manner that isn’t loving or safe.

Tags/TW’s: Kisses, embracing, Harsh and Soft Touching, Apologising For Ones Behaviour, Slight Snark, Trying Ones Best, Stunted Emotional Development, Confessions of Regret/Hurt/Anger/Fear/Pain/Lacking Knowledge/Love/Affection/Trust, Explicit Description, Dark Sexual Past, Gentle and Caring Touches, Hints At Past Sexual Abuse/Coercion/Rape (not graphic or described),

Word Count: 4.7k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

It had been over seven months since the day I thought my heart would stop. The day I found him more dead than alive in the Shrieking Shack. The day a strange little elf was sent to me with a message from someone a mere boy, which led me to find the man I loved so broken — poisoned, snake venom slithering through his veins no magic could have stopped. But my mom, she stopped it. My mom, a muggle who the Dark Lord so much detested, had won over his own snake.

The year had passed in a blurry ordeal of pain, love, recovery, and healing. But still, there was so much healing needed I could barely wrap my head around it. Christmas was upon us, and I hadn’t the heart to decorate our home. The home we ended up sharing, just me and Severus. At first, it was to get away from everyone and give him a chance to heal, but it changed about a month ago. A month ago, it became something different, an emotional journey for the two of us one could say. Spewed words of hatred, panic attacks through dark nights, long stretches of time without a word spoken from him, my dear broken man.

I didn’t give up, yet yesterday, when he’d so viciously barked at me about the time I’d decorated his office and how stupid I’d been to do such a thing — well, something broke in me. I hadn’t decorated our home, I hadn’t put up anything related to Christmas despite it being the 21st of December now and my most loved holiday. I’d simply allowed our home to remain barren, for his sake, as he seemed to hate the holiday with a vengeance unlike any I’d ever seen.

“I’ll take a walk,” I called through the little house, not expecting any response. The cold winter air greeted me but there was no wind, not a sound from beyond the bubble the little house sat in at the very end of a clearing in some ancient forest I still had no idea of the location of. I could only apparate there since I knew what it looked like.

My heart ached for the man left behind in the house while stepping into the night. No matter what, I wouldn’t give up on him. He had every right to be broken, hurt, lost — but sometimes I had to take some time for myself to find the strength and courage I needed to go on when his hatred and pain shined too brightly. Sometimes, I was the only one around he could lash out against and even if it hurt beyond anything else to hear such foul words in his voice directed at me, I still loved him more than anything and the nights when I held him tight I just knew it would pass. Eventually, time would heal his wounds and I’d still be there. I would never abandon him, something I knew he feared above all else yet he always showed I was free to come and go as I pleased. He knew what it was to be trapped, he didn't wish that for me in any sense of the word.

The snow crunched beneath my shoes, I slipped on my mittens and shoved my hands into my coat’s pockets while walking ahead. Above me, just before I left the clearing and the trees would obscure the sky, I saw the little stars speckling the darkness. I paused for a second to just look at the enormity of the universe, to get perspective perhaps, or simply allow myself to think of how small things can mean so much in the enormity of it all. A falling star streaked by, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and send a wish to it. It was a childish thing to do perhaps, but I wished for Severus to allow me to help him and be close with him. Some day it might come true, he’s trying already…

I walked around for nearly two hours, until my toes were numb and my cheeks beyond chilly. Just breathing, imagining a happy Christmas with him. “In the future, when he’s healed… Maybe then…” I murmured to myself as I stomped off my boots and stepped back into our little home.

I lost my breath.

When I left, the house had been dark, dreary, void of all things Christmas but now… Now there were decorations everywhere. Eternally burning candles, perfectly green garlands, golden ornaments, and red bows littered every surface, door frame, and window. The house had turned into a Christmas-littered haven perfectly decorated to my own taste, almost as I had decorated Severus’s office a year ago — just slightly different colours.

“What in the world,” I whispered as I dragged off my fluffy mittens and shrugged out of my coat. “S-Severus! I don’t mean to alarm you but I think Santa broke in!” I called, my brain not able to think of another reason why our house looked like Christmas heaven. “No, love,” he murmured as he appeared in the doorway to the living room beyond the hallway I was moving through. “I am apologizing,” he continued and the sweet look of guilt and hope covering his features made my heart ache.

“Severus, what-, why?” I asked as he straightened and reached for my hand to tug me into his arms. I followed without any resistance. I always wanted to be in his arms, one of the many things I always wished for while I nursed him back to health physically after my mom had saved his life. “I said dreadful things.” “You’re trying, Sev.” “No, you are trying, Linna—” he exhaled the words into my hair “—and I’m constantly making it harder for you.” “Healing takes time, Sev. It takes time.” “It gives me no right to take it out on you, you have done nothing but stand by me.” “I always will, I won’t abandon you.” “I almost wish you would, it would be easier to be in misery than… deal with it all.” “Oh, stop, you’re a strong man, you can deal with it.” “Love, you overestimate my abilities, and underestimate your importance…”

For a long moment, I said nothing, just thought about his words — the sweet ones he now spoke and the hurtful ones that came out when we tried to process his trauma. It wasn’t easy to stay, wasn’t easy to take it and not retort or yell or scream or cry. But the hardest thing I had ever done was stay away from him, nothing else came close to it.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked, his voice low and nearly that of someone frightened. “I-, Severus… you don’t need my—” “Your forgiveness is the only one I need.” “I won’t forgive you then,” I said softly. “I won’t forgive you until you fight harder.” “Love, I—” “No, you’re the strongest man I’ve ever met. I’m nothing compared to you and I have nothing to equal your pain and hurt, your strength, or your bravery, so if I only have this one thing to hold over your head I bloody well will, Sev.” “Feisty today, are we?”

His voice was teasing, yet the hurt and fear still lingered behind it all and I couldn’t help but feel even more love for the man who dealt so poorly with his own emotions — he’d never been allowed any, so how would he ever know how to deal with them properly? I did the only thing I could think of, I hugged him with all my strength until his arms wrapped around me and I felt some of the tension leave his body. “Silly man,” I whispered. “You really need to learn how to deal with your emotions.” “I’m… I am trying,” he confessed and I knew he spoke true. He was trying with everything he had and I’d be with him every step of the way.

We stood there, for the longest moment, until I felt the urge to explore all the Christmas decorations he’d filled the house with. “I thought you hated Christmas with a passion as strong as amortentia’s power to make people go insane with obsession.” “I do.” “Then, why?” “You are the obsessed in this case,” he chuckled. “So, for me, then?” He merely nodded but I smiled warmly at him. It was a giant act of care and love on his part, it only made me love the holiday even more.

We walked through the little house, I looked at everything he’d done in a sort of stunned silence until we got to the bedroom. “Really?” I asked and arched a brow at him, he shrugged while raising his own brows in a sort of “what?” kind of expression. “Rosemary?” “Well…” he murmured as his cheeks took on the tiniest hint of pink, barely there but significant enough for me to notice after having gotten to know him so well the past few months. “I love it,” I said and kissed his cheek gently. “It’s perfect,” I continued while allowing my eyes to rest another moment on the rosemary twigs replacing the holly — just like it had done a year ago.

“Love, I truly am sorry… I shouldn’t have said the things I did, or done it in the manner I did.” “I know, and you know, and it’s in the past.” “It is not in the past,” he said and sighed. “I fear I’ll never be able to… To…” “Sev, schh, it’s okay. You’re learning. Have you ever had a right to express yourself? Or even have feelings at all?” “No.” “So you’re a baby.” He sneered at that, almost recoiling. “If you think about it logically, you’re as able as a child to deal with your emotions and when children feel truly safe with someone they’ll act up, they’ll cry and scream and get pissed because they feel it’s safe to show their emotions and, eventually, with the help of safe adults they learn to communicate and deal with their emotions in a healthy and proper manner. Yes, you’re a grown man, but you’ve never had the chance to learn or become comfortable with your emotions.” “I’m comfortable with you.” “And I am with you, we can both show our emotions, and right now your emotions aren’t under control but that’s not your fault. You’ll learn, grow, and become able to handle it eventually.”

Severus simply stared at me. It felt like an eternity passed while his eyes seemed to dig themselves into mine. Eventually, he drew a long breath. “You are far too good.” “I’ll be anything you need me to be.” “I merely need you, just as you are. If you… if you are willing to be patient, with… me…” It sounded as if he had to push with all his might to say the word in a calm and collected manner, as if he felt a need to either spit them out or say nothing at all. It warmed my heart and I nodded gently, smiling up at him as I took his hands gently in my own. “I’ll always be patient with you,” I said and leaned up to kiss him. His thin lips pushed harshly against mine while he tugged me closer.

He backed me up, toward our bed, and gently laid me down without our lips ever leaving each other. “Severus?” I asked, my heart hammering too hard while my entire body tightened warmly under him. “If you don’t want this, say so now, love.” “I-, I do…” It feels like I’ve waited all my life for this moment. “But are you ready?” I asked in return, remembering all the times he’d recoiled at my soft touch or jolted at a sweet caress of his cheek. Loving touches, as I’d learned over the past months, wasn’t something he was used to or even knew how to deal with.

“I want to try,” he confessed after another kiss. “Okay,” I whispered and he kissed me again while his hands roughly caressed my sides. His kisses turned harsher and he bent my legs to fit himself between them. I simply moved with him, allowed him to lead the way while I avoided touching him, keeping my hands above my head even if all I wished to do was strip him and ravish him with all my love and adoration, thousands of kisses and hundreds of soft caresses — with all my warmth.

His hands travelled up my arms until one of them clamped around my wrists before the other tore open my blouse with a jerk. His breathing turned ragged, his hand clamped around my wrists harder while he undid my pants with his free hand — tugging at the buttons too harshly.

“S-Sev,” I whispered against his lips. All his motions halted. He looked down at me, his eyes darker than ever. “I won’t run away,” I whispered. “Even if you don’t hold me down, I won’t touch you unless you allow it,” I continued. “I-, I don’t know how to… How to do this…” His voice was a mere murmur, a deep droning of a confession barely audible. “I know. I understand. But I do… Let me show you?” I asked gently while holding his eyes with my own.

He hesitated, a fear of what was to come in those onyx eyes of his, while I laid utterly still despite the need to love him clawing at my skin with a burning desire. He nodded, a stiff motion, while he slowly released my hands.

I sat up and he backed off the bed, standing between my knees. I looked up at him, not making any quick moves but standing up while he took a step back and his fists clenched. “Will you let me lead?” I asked. He merely nodded. “No, Severus. I need you to say the words.” He looked bewildered for a second before his fists unclenched on a deep exhale. “You lead.” “Thank you.”

I gently reached out while he stood absolutely still. “I’m going to undress you. And then you will undress me, slowly.” He nodded at my words and I got to work with the buttons of his shirt, not letting my fingers tremble while he watched them work. I tugged the shirt off his shoulders without touching his skin, dragging the fabric down his arms while searching his eyes before it floated to the floor. I undid the belt of his pants, then the button and zipper before bending to tug them off as he wore no shoes.

He lifted each leg for me to remove the pants fully while simultaneously slipping my finger within the hem of his socks and taking them off at the same time. I heard him draw a shaky breath as I rose before him as he stood in just his boxers. He was such a beautiful sight in the candlelight and I couldn’t help but look him up and down while my cheeks heated, no matter how hard I tried to control my own emotions for his benefit.

“Now, you undress me in the same manner. But, you can touch me if you want to.” He nodded at my words and as he reached for my already open blouse I caught a glimpse of his unsteady fingers that seemed to be both stiff and trembling. But he managed to undress me in a somewhat slow fashion, even if he didn’t look at me while he did so. His eyes flickered all over the place as if he didn’t know where to look.

When he stood up we were only in our underwear. I was strangely relaxed while he seemed tense. So I stepped closer, my eyes seeking his, and allowed my hands to reach out. “I’ll touch you now,” I said and his eyes found mine. He looked terrified, but he didn’t move away as my hands reached his chest dusted with dark hair so soft to the touch I wanted to moan at just the sensation of him. “Touch me, Severus, feel my body. It belongs to you,” I said gently to encourage him to dare. “I-, I have never in-, in this manner,” he confessed. “Tell me how you’ve done it, share your experiences with me while we do this gently.” “Love… No,” he said, a darkness to his voice. “Tell me, and touch me.”

I allowed my hands to stroke down his arms, slip to his hips, and go up along his sides until I could spread my fingers over his chest — his heart pounded. Then his hands reached out for my hips. “It was rough,” he began while his uncertain fingers began exploring my body in a jaggedly jumpy fashion. “Never out of care or, want… A necessity, sometimes something done without my approval. Merely for the… mission …” “Never again, darling,” I whispered while my hands explored his back and my front went flush against his, forcing his hands to slip behind me as well.

I kissed his collarbone and allowed my lips to slant up along his throat until I met his jawline. “This will only ever happen if you want it,” I assured him and his fingers stiffened at my lower back while I felt his cock press against my pelvis. “I can’t talk about it,” he confessed. “Not like this,” he continued and I nodded before kissing his cheek. “That’s okay, Sev. Will you still allow me to lead and touch?” “Yes…” “Say stop and it all stops.”

I stepped back and took off my underwear before ridding him of his. As we stood face to face I searched his eyes, tried to read what few emotions he showed, I found none truly alarming so I continued to kiss and caress him before we ended up on the bed. He was stiff beneath me, but I kept kissing and caressing his upper body while snuggling myself between his legs.

“Love…” he murmured. “Yes, Sev?” “Are you-, do you truly wish for this?” “Yes. I want all of you, all you are willing to gift me.” “All?” “Yes, all . There is no part of you I don’t love. I want to be close to you, care for you, love you.” He seemed to soften beneath me at that. “I will try,” he said quietly while his hands finally began to caress my skin, travelling along my sides until his fingers reached my face and he pulled me closer before kissing me softly.

I moaned into his mouth and kissed him back with all I had while still keeping the pace slow and the touch gentle. His thumb caressed my cheek and the kiss ended. I began stroking his side, travelling from his ribs to his hips before lifting myself a bit to reach his cock. He exhaled deeply as my fingers wrapped around him and I began stroking him gently, each movement measured and controlled to be gentle and comforting.

“It-, it feels good,” he whispered as he laid back fully, relaxing and taking in my touch. “I’ll always make you feel good, Sev,” I said, my voice too low but I was desperate to keep my control when all I truly wished to do was ravish him and have him fill my aching cunt. But we both needed this, he needed this to be different and I wanted him to feel safe and adored with me — as he always should feel.

I worked him to the point of him moaning deeply beneath me, my hands touching and stroking, my lips slanting and kissing, my mouth whispering sweet words of adoration and care. The room turned too warm, his breaths came harder and his muscles tensed beneath me while my core turned slick and needy.

“Sev, I’m going to ride you,” I said, making sure he knew what was about to happen before I did anything, giving him the chance to stop me. But he didn’t, he merely looked at me with warm eyes of want even if a small sliver of worry still lingered within the onyx colour.

I climbed atop him, guiding his thick cock to my entrance while straddling him. He looked up at me, his hands landing on my thighs as I began to sink, allowing him to slip inside and fill me up deliciously slow. He groaned and threw his head back as I took him to the hilt. It felt too good. He felt too perfect within me.

His hands flexed, his fingers digging into my flesh, and I moaned his name while taking in the sensation of being with him. I had dreamt of that moment for so long, wondered what it would be like, what he’d feel like, how he’d react — never had I imagined I’d be the one leading. But with Severus, things were always different.

“Love,” he groaned as I began riding him slowly. “You feel so good, Sev,” I moaned as my cunt adjusted to his size. “Belinna,” he moaned. “I-, I can’t,” he continued with a strain to his dark rumble of a voice. “Want me to stop?” I asked while keeping on riding him in slow motions, steady rising and falling, using all of my power to not allow the frenzy building within me to take over. “No, no don’t stop,” he groaned as his fingers dug themselves into my flesh with a grip so tight I wondered if he’d leave marks on me from his desperate hold. “But I can’t, I can’t hold out,” he panted while I felt his entire body turn nearly solid beneath me.

I’d only barely begun, but I wouldn’t take away his pleasure or deny him a release he so obviously needed. “Then let go, darling,” I said while I upped the pace a tiny bit. “Just let go.” “ Belinna ,” he moaned in a near prayer as I splayed my hands out on his chest, leaning forward to find a new angle to take him. He jerked beneath me, his jaw clenched tightly while his hips bucked upwards, and I moaned as he came undone beneath me.

His cock jerked with me, warm waves coating my insides while I kept riding him steadily while my hands felt the hammering of his heart. “You’re so good, Sev,” I praised while he groaned deeply. “So good, darling,” I continued and he moaned a strange sound of relief and something darker. I slowed my pace until I stilled fully, not chasing my release.

I watched him, the pale skin with a slight tint to his cheeks and little beads of sweat across his forehead, and couldn’t help but be filled with a desperate need to comfort him. He looked strangely satisfied but confused, tense but relaxed at the same time.

“Sev, are you alright?” I asked while stroking away a few stray strands of his hair. He looked up at me, I was unable to understand what his eyes were filled with though. He just looked at me, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, while I felt him soften within me his hands released their grip on my flesh.

“I-, I don’t know,” he confessed. “That’s okay,” I said and leaned forward to kiss his hooked nose while he slipped out of me, a gushing of sticky cum flowing out of me. “We’re a mess, would you like to shower with me?” I asked with a smile even if my entire body was reeling with the need to come. He shook his head and I nodded before kissing his thin lips gently. “I’ll be right back, I don’t like cleaning up with magic.”

I handed him his wand after having stood and went to the bathroom on shaky legs. My insides pulsed and his cum streaked down my thighs. I locked the door and stepped into the shower, the warm water cascaded over me and I reached down to find the release I so desperately needed while his moans and groans filled my head from mere memory. His cum and my slick covered my fingers as I stroked myself into a trembling mess, taking support from the wall while biting down on my lip to not make a sound. I made quick work of it all, finding my release swiftly only to rush through cleaning myself.

I grabbed my robe from the hook on the wall and left the bathroom while cinching the sash around my waist. When I stepped into the bedroom Severus sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a new shirt and his black silken pyjama pants. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, a hunch to his shoulders and a stiffness to his back.

I walked up, sinking down on my knees before him. “Sev? Are you alright?” I asked anew but he shook his head. “What’s wrong?” I continued while wrapping my hands around his where they were entwined before me. “Is that how it’s supposed to be?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean?” “Soft, caring… Warm …” My eyes widened as he looked up at me. “Sev… Darling… Yes, it’s supposed to be all those things. It’s supposed to feel only good.” My heart screamed at the torment and confusion in his eyes while he looked at me so intently that I felt as if he were trying to enter my soul.

“What do you need, darling?” I asked while squeezing his hands. “Need?” “Yes, what do you need from me?” “Nothing you haven’t already given too much of.” “Okay, what would make you feel safe and cared for right now?” I asked to change his view on the question I was asking. “I-, I don’t know.” “Cuddles?” I asked. “Or alone time? Food? Words of affirmation?” I kept going to try and jog his thoughts about it all. I knew what I wanted but what I needed was to comfort him in whatever manner he needed.

“I usually prefer some cuddles and snuggles after getting clean, and talking about what felt good and what didn’t,” I said to open up about my own wants to hopefully make him see it was okay to ask for something more, for what one needs. “There was nothing about that which did not feel good, love,” Severus murmured, his eyes cast down on our hands. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Would you like me to stay or give you some time?” I asked after another moment. “Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Stay. Please…” The confusion and worry in his voice was heartbreaking but that he asked me to stay warmed me. “I’ll stay, for as long as you wish.” “Forever. I wish you to stay forever,” he said and I felt my eyes water at his honesty. “I love you, Severus.” “I love you too. And I am trying, I am truly trying, Belinna.” “I know,” I said and reached my hand up to caress his chilly cheek.

He leaned into my hand, a small smile across his lips. Such a difference to just a few weeks ago. “It may sound foolish,” he began quietly, “but I… I wished on a falling star for the bravery needed to be closer to you. It fell across the sky just as you left for your walk.” “I-, Sev, I wished on that star too,” I confessed and he blinked at me. “I wished for you to allow me to be close to you…” “Is that so?” “Yes…” “Star of wishes, perhaps we needn’t wish on stars in the future…” “Perhaps we can simply… talk with each other more?”

Severus reached up and cupped my face, smiling softly while I placed my hands on his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath my palms and warmth seemed to envelop the two of us among the garlands and candlelight. “I wish for nothing more than a future where we can speak openly,” he said gently and I felt as if I were melting on the inside. “Let’s make that future a reality, together.” “Together,” he echoed and kissed me deeply. My wish came true, and my hard work and patience were rewarded in the end. My own little Christmas miracle…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: WAAAAAAAH!!!! Gosh, frikkin darn it, I love this so much and it's so sweet and they are so loving and caring and waaaaah..! I hope you enjoyed the end to this Rickmas2023 serial as well darlings! 🥰👏

+A/N: I am so so so sorry I haven't had the chance to reply to comments/reblogs yet - I am itching to do it and I will get to it as soon as I have a chance to and life isn't going crazy (I love and adore that you comment and reblog darling! I really do!) ❤

Q: Do you feel ready for 2024? A: I am so so so ready for 2023 to be over, it's been the most insane year and I can't quite wrap my head around it now that we're on the home stretch - how did I manage all I managed this year?

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243

@morphineisouthoney @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish @romanceandsarcasm @severuslovebot @glowstar826 @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @impulse-anchor @commodoreseverus  @writewithmarites @alisongurl13 @yan-senna @writewithmarites @reinekefoxart @nixislight @lokisbjchnl  @lght-n-drk @ladykardasi @lyrixsnape @sunset90 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

[whispersleo]

ROSALBA: LITTLE GIRL GONE

CONTENT WARNING (CW) / TRIGGER WARNING (TW)

This character’s story contains heavy, potentially distressing themes, including:

VIOLENCE & SELF-HARM

Graphic depictions of blood magic, assassination, and violent kills.

Self-harm (carving into skin, filing teeth, self-mutilation related to body dysmorphia).

Suicide attempt (past poisoning) and suicidal ideation.

Child abuse (raised as a weapon, forced combat, psychological trauma).

BODY DYSMORPHIA & IDENTITY STRUGGLES

Extreme self-hatred tied to race/species (Qunari features, feeling "monstrous").

Hallucinations (of horns growing uncontrollably).

Disordered behaviors (starvation, binding, attempts to alter body to appear "human").

PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA

Abandonment issues (sold as an infant, raised without love).

Dehumanization (treated as a weapon/object, called things like "ox-girl").

Mage trauma (fear of Templars/Antaams, being seen as a "dangerous abomination").

UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS & OBSESSION

Unrequited love (painful fixation on someone who loves another).

Possessive/obsessive thoughts (including considering using magic to "force" desire).

Emotional manipulation (power dynamics, coercion in Crow training).

SEXUAL & ROMANTIC THEMES

Referenced/Implied Rape.

Virginity shame (feeling unwanted, fearing no one will ever desire her).

Eroticized violence (blood magic linked to longing, blurred lines between pain and intimacy).

Involuntary celibacy angst (resentment, loneliness, touch-starvation).

DARK FANTASY ELEMENTS

Body horror (veins bursting, teeth-filing, grotesque transformations).

Morbid rituals (praying to a death goddess, collecting bones/feathers).

Hallucinations/nightmares (of being a monster, drowning, etc.).

Note: This character’s narrative is intentionally dark and explores trauma, violence, and psychological suffering as central themes. While there are moments of vulnerability and longing for connection, her story does not shy away from brutality or self-destruction.

HEADCANONS: 

I. ON HER BODY

She hates mirrors. When she was young, she shattered every one in the training halls, screaming at her reflection like it was a demon. Now, she avoids them entirely—tilts her head down when passing shop windows, refuses to look at her own face in polished blades. The only time she ever really sees herself is in Viago’s eyes—and even then, she doesn’t recognize the person staring back. (Is that her, or just what he wants her to be?)

She binds her chest with linen strips, not for stealth, but because the curves make her sick. She wants to be flat and hard as a blade, something with no softness left to mock. (Teia’s body is art. Hers is a weapon.)

Her horns are scarred from where she’s cracked them against walls, filed them down in secret. Once, she tried to saw them off with a dagger. Viago found her halfway through, blood streaking her face, and wrenched the blade from her hands. He didn’t yell. Just pressed a cloth to her forehead and said, "Idiot, you’ll get an infection." She sobbed. He pretended not to notice.

II. ON TEIA (AND THE SIREN SHE’LL NEVER BE)

She watches Teia like a starving dog watches a feast. Not with jealousy—with hunger. Teia is everything Rosalba isn’t: small, delicate, wanted. The way Viago looks at Teia makes her want to scream. (Or set something on fire. Or both.)

She practices smiling in the dark, trying to mimic Teia’s easy grace. But her teeth are too sharp, her lips too quick to twist into a snarl. She gives up. (Monsters don’t get to be pretty.)

Once, drunk on stolen wine, she kissed another Crow recruit just to see if she could make someone look at her the way Viago looks at Teia. The girl laughed, called her "desperate," and Rosalba broke her nose. Viago found her scrubbing the blood from her knuckles later. "Pathetic," he said. She agreed.

III. ON VIAGO (AND THE LOVE THAT FEELS LIKE A KNIFE)

She collects his things like holy relics: a discarded glove, a broken quill, the half-empty bottle of cologne he left in a training yard. She hides them under her mattress and pretends she doesn’t.

She writes him letters she’ll never send. Most are furious, scrawled in jagged script: "I hate you. I hate that you saved me. I hate that you made me want to live." One, written after a near-fatal contract, just says: "You should’ve let me die." (She burns them all.)

She dreams of him in ways that shame her. Not just the obvious—though Maker, yes, that too—but the soft things: His fingers brushing hers when he passes her a knife. His voice, low and annoyed, when he calls her idiot. The way he sees her, even when she wishes he wouldn’t.

She knows he loves Teia. She knows she’ll never be her. So she sharpens herself into something else—something useful, something he can’t ignore. If she can’t be his lover, she’ll be his blade, his shadow, the monster he keeps on a leash. (It’s better than nothing.)

IV. ON VIAGO AND TEIA (THE WAY THEY FIT TOGETHER)

She watches them when they think she isn’t looking. The way Viago’s fingers linger on Teia’s wrist when he passes her a dagger. The way Teia laughs—soft, real—at something he murmurs in Antivan. They orbit each other like twin stars, inevitable, gravitational. Rosalba knows she will never be part of that pull.

Once, after a contract gone wrong, she stumbled upon them in a dim-lit corridor. Viago had Teia pressed against the wall, his forehead resting against hers, whispering something too low to hear. Teia’s hands were fisted in his shirt, not pushing him away, but holding on. Rosalba turned and left before they noticed her. (That night, she drank until she vomited.)

She hates how well they match. Teia, with her big brown eyes and easy grace; Viago, all sharp edges and quiet intensity. They fit like a knife in its sheath. Rosalba? She’s the broken blade left discarded on the battlefield.

V. ON THE WAY THEY ALWAYS FIND EACH OTHER

They fight. Oh, how they fight. Teia throws wine in Viago’s face; then disappears for weeks without a word. But Rosalba has seen it—they always come back. Like stray arrows returning to their quiver, like tides drawn back to shore. No matter how far they stray, they circle each other, drawn by something Rosalba will never understand.

She tests it, sometimes. Picks fights with Teia, needles Viago with barbs sharp enough to draw blood. She wants to see if she can break them apart, if she can make him look at her instead. But it never works. The angrier Teia gets, the more Viago watches her—not with fury, but fascination. And when Teia storms off, he always follows.

Once, after a particularly brutal argument (one Rosalba may have encouraged), Viago vanished for a month. Rosalba allowed herself to hope—foolish, pathetic hope—that this time, he wouldn’t return. But then Teia sighed one evening at the Diamond and said, "He’ll be back by Tuesday." And he was.

VI. ON THE HOLE IN HER CHEST WHERE LOVE SHOULD BE

She tells herself she doesn’t care. That Viago is just another Crow, just her Talon, her handler. That Teia is just another rival. But then—

Viago brings Teia coffee in the mornings, just the way she likes it. (Rosalba drinks hers black. He’s never asked how she takes it.)

Teia fixes the torn sleeve of Viago’s coat without being asked. (Rosalba’s own clothes go unmended until she does it herself.)

They share a language—not just Antivan, but the quiet, unspoken kind. A glance across a room, a tilt of the head, a smirk that means later. Rosalba is fluent in their silence, but she is never part of the conversation.

She wonders, sometimes, if she could carve herself into someone they’d love. If she were smaller, softer, human. But then she remembers—she was bought, not born. And weapons don’t get to be loved.

VII. ON WHAT SHE WILL NEVER SAY

She loves him. Mierda, she loves him. Not the way Teia does—not with warmth and ease and certainty—but like a wound, like a curse. A love that burns instead of comforts.

She knows he will never love her back. Not the way he loves Teia. Not the way she wants.

And the worst part? She doesn’t even blame him. (Because of course he chooses Teia. Everyone would. Everyone does.)

VIII. HER FIRST KISS (AND THE WAY IT RUINED HER)

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a violation. A Rivaini sailor, drunk on cheap rum and the power of a grown man over a child, cornered her in the docks during a contract. She was 14, already taller than him, but frozen like prey. He called her "exotic", gripped her horns to force her mouth on his. He touched her and used her mouth for his pleasure. She didn’t fight. Didn’t scream. Just let it happen, because she’d been taught her body wasn’t hers to begin with.

Afterward, she scrubbed her skin raw in the harbor, retching saltwater and shame. When Viago found her, she lied and said she’d eaten bad fish. (He knew. She could tell by the way his jaw tensed. But neither of them spoke of it.)

Now, she flinches at unexpected touch—especially hands near her face.

IX. ON CRAVING MALE VALIDATION (AND HATING HERSELF FOR IT)

Varric’s easy charm disarms her. The way he calls her "Rook" like she’s a person, not a weapon. She hangs on his words, laughs too loud at his jokes, leans into casual touches like a starving thing. (She knows it’s pathetic. She can’t stop.)

She collects praise like knife wounds—hoards it, obsesses over it. When Lucanis says "good job" after a fight, she replays it in her head for days. When Davrin nods approvingly at her strategy, she feels lightheaded. (She hates how much it matters.)

But the moment they pull away, she burns with self-loathing. Weak. Needy. Pathetic. She’d rather they spit on her than pity her.

X. ON SOLAS (AND THE WAY SHE OBEYS)

When the Dread Wolf comes to her in dreams, she doesn’t question. Doesn’t hesitate. His voice is calm, certain—everything she isn’t. She craves his approval like a drug.

He tells her "You are more than they made you", and she weeps. (No one has ever said that to her before.)

His commands aren’t suggestions. They’re salvation. If he told her to walk into the Void, she’d ask "how far?"

Deep down, she knows it’s another form of chains. But she’s spent her life being owned—what’s one more master?

XI. ON BEING UNTOUCHABLE

She is nineteen years old and has never been kissed in a way that mattered. (The drunken recruit who laughed at her doesn’t count. The Rivaini sailor definitely doesn’t count.)

She tells herself she doesn’t care. Weapons don’t need love. Weapons don’t need to be held. But then she sees the way other Crows tangle together in shadowed corners—breathless, wanted—and something in her chest cracks.

She hates her body for wanting what it can’t have. Hates the heat that coils low in her stomach when she imagines hands (his hands) on her hips, her throat, the jagged stubs of her horns. She’s a monster. Monsters don’t get to be touched gently.

XII. ON THE NIGHTS IT HURTS TOO MUCH

There are nights she can’t sleep, too aware of her own skin, her own pulse. She presses her thighs together, bites her lip bloody, tries to ignore the ache. (It never works.)

Once, desperate, she touched herself—just to see what it felt like. She came with Viago’s name in her mouth and immediately wanted to vomit. She hasn’t done it since.

She fantasizes, sometimes, about using her magic to make someone want her. To boil the blood in their veins until they look at her with something other than fear or disgust. (She never does. She’s not that far gone. Yet.)

XIII. ON THE LIES SHE TELLS HERSELF

"It’s better this way." (It’s not.)

"I don’t need it." (She does.)

"No one could ever want me anyway." (This one might be true.)

XIV. ON THE ONE TIME SOMEONE TRIED

A Tal-Vashoth mercenary, passing through Antiva, looked at her like she was something other than a weapon. Like she was a woman. He was tall, gray-skinned, his horns polished to a shine. He didn’t flinch when she snarled at him. Just smiled.

She ran. Like a coward. Like a fool.

Later, she dreamed of him. Of his hands, his mouth, the way he might’ve touched her like she was precious. When she woke up, she cried. (Then she punched the wall until her knuckles split.)

XV. ON WHAT SHE DESERVES

She knows, deep down, that she will die untouched. That no one will mourn her. That no one will remember the way her breath hitched the first time someone traced the curve of her horn, because it will never happen.

Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe love would’ve ruined her. (Maybe it would’ve saved her.)

Either way, she’ll never know. (And that’s the real tragedy, isn’t it?)

XVI. ON WHAT SHE DESERVES (NOTHING. EVER.)

She thinks love is transactional. You give pieces of yourself away until there’s nothing left. (She ran out of pieces long ago.)

When Emmrich offers genuine kindness, she shuts him out. (She doesn’t know what to do with it.)

XVII. ON THE NIGHTMARES (THE ONES SHE CAN’T WAKE FROM)

The sailor’s breath still haunts her. Stale rum and rotting teeth.

Sometimes, in battle, a man’s grip on his staff will trigger her. She butchers him extra viciously, just to prove she’s not afraid. (She is.)

She dreams of Solas’ hands on her face—gentle, for now. But she knows how quickly gentle turns to grip.

XVIII. SILENT TIDES (THE ASSASSIN WHO WHISPERS IN BLOOD)

Her siren-song kills are infamous among the Crows—not for their brutality, but for their silence. Victims don’t scream. They lull. Their eyes glaze over as their veins hum in time with her magic, their pulses slowing to a whisper before the pop of ruptured capillaries paints the walls. She calls it "singing them to sleep."

She collects bestiaries like a scholar, stealing them from noble libraries and underlining passages about sirens, rusalkas, women with teeth like knives. "The sailors begged to drown," one page reads. She traces the words with a bloodstained fingertip and wonders if she could make Viago beg too. (She never tries. She’s afraid it would work.)

The seagull skull she carries is named Varric—part joke, part morbid comfort. She talks to it when she’s alone. "Tell me a story, storyteller," she whispers, pressing her thumb into its hollow eye socket. It never answers. (She prefers it that way.)

XIX. MONSTER (THE WEAPON WHO HATES HER OWN FLESH)

Dragon’s kiss is her signature poison—the same toxin she swallowed at twelve. Now, she coats her blades in it, savoring the bitter tang on her tongue. "Tastes like home," she tells her targets as they choke. (She doesn’t mention that home was a stable floor, vomiting bile while Viago watched.)

She hallucinates her horns growing—wakes in the night clawing at them, convinced they’re curling into her skull like a ram’s. The healers say it’s stress. She knows it’s penance.

Her teeth are too smooth, too human. So she files them to points when she’s anxious, relishing the scrape of metal on enamel. (Qunari don’t have fangs. But she’s not really Qunari, is she? Just a thing they threw away.)

"Monster" isn’t an insult to her—it’s a goal. She practices her snarl in mirrors, bares her teeth at nobles who flinch, leans into the rumors that she’s more demon than woman. If they’re going to fear her, she’ll give them a reason.

XX. CROW (THE KILLER WHO LOVES LIKE A BLADE LOVES FLESH)

She dances while scrubbing blood from her boots, humming old Antivan waltzes as the water turns pink. Viago taught her the steps at fifteen, his hand on her waist, his sigh exasperated as she tripped. She stepped on his feet. "Hopeless," he muttered. She still remembers the song. (She still can’t dance.)

She prays to Andruil before kills—not for absolution, but for hunger. The elven Crow who taught her the ritual is dead now (by her hand, though no one knows), but Rosalba keeps the habit. "Let me be sharp," she whispers. "Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Spare us the moment we become Your prey."

Her calling card is a seagull feather—never a crow’s, because she’s not really one of them. Just a scavenger, picking at the scraps of a life she was never meant to have. (The first time Viago found one of her feathers, he laughed. She’s been leaving them ever since.)

XXI. A GIRL WHO’S ALREADY GONE

She dreams of luring Viago into the deep, of his hands on her waist, his mouth on her throat—not to kill, but to keep. Pathetic.

Viago once said her eyes were "too small for her face." She’s hated even her color ever since. (Too dark, too otherwordly. Not like Teia’s, which glow like honey in the sun.)

She carves tallies into her thighs for every time she’s been called a monster.

XXII. THE TRUTH SHE’LL NEVER ADMIT

She wants to be loved. Not as a weapon, not as a monster—as herself. But she doesn’t even know who that is anymore.

She could make someone want her. (Blood magic whispers promises. She resists. For now.)

The only time she feels real is when she’s killing. (Isn’t that sad?)

(She’s a siren, a monster, a crow. But underneath? She’s just a girl who never learned how to be anything else.)

[iwriteaboutfeminism]

TW!! COERCION

Hi sorry! I just posted bout this on my blog, feel free to read, but I genuinely don't know why a feminist friend of mine doesn't believe that her friend and our mutual classmate has coerced me and she's now ignoring me? It just makes me feel awful that half of the women I've told either don't believe me or don't care.

Sorry if this is upsetting!!

(I consider myself a feminist, but I also have autism and don't understand every little social interaction, so any help would be appreciated?)

First and foremost, I'm sorry that you experienced that coersive behavior and that your friend isn't reacting in a supportive way.

There are lots of factors that can contribute to someone not believing something like this so I certainly can't say for sure what their thought process is.

One thing that I think, in general, plays a large part in that kind of (non) reaction is when the person personally knows (or *feels like* they know) the person who did wrong, and are told about the behavior, they're put in the difficult/uncomfortable position of asking themselves, "what does it say about ME that someone I like did something objectively harmful?" or "How can I be a feminist yet stand by someone accused of misogynistic behavior?"

Even when the harm itself has nothing to do with them, it can feel like their own personal judgement is being questioned for liking someone who they've now been told has caused harm.

When there's an identity involved, in this case feminist, it's uncomfortable to try to mesh together the good identity of feminism and the bad identity of misogyny, so they try to ignore the negative feeling in order to keep the good one.

A lot of people have trouble sitting with that uncomfortable feeling, so sometimes they choose to dismiss it. If they discount the accusation, they don't have to sit with their own discomfort. If they don't "believe" the misogyny, they believe they can keep their relationship with the person who has been accused, and still identify as a feminist.

It honestly takes practice to get used to sitting with uncomfortable feelings and exploring the feelings that brings up. It's important to practice this, or to at least be aware of it, because none of us are above causing some level of harm or offense or rudeness to the people in our lives. Being able to feel that, understand it, express it, and respond to it is what healthy communication -and healthy relationships - is all about.

It doesn't make someone a bad person or a bad friend to experience that discomfort. Coersive behavior IS uncomfortable, and if you change your mind about or your comfort or trust level with someone based on new information, you're not at fault for not somehow having the magical insight to know they might do something harmful before they do it.

We are all works in progress, and we're all always responding to new information. It's just better to try to process that information honestly rather than throwing out anything that makes us uncomfy.

[aswallowimprisoned]

Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Resisting treatment

Logan tries to pursuade the sea monster to submit to a blood test. He is not keen on the idea.

@medwhumpmay

Tw Panic attack, needles, non-con medical procedure, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, religious whumpee, coercion

This is set fairly near the begining, when Nathaniel's behaviour has been getting more erratic, swinging between compliance and resistance

masterlist

≪ °❈° ≫

“Fogal, we have a medical task to introduce you to.” Logan spoke evenly, allowing no cause for panic, “We want to take some blood for a blood test. It will only be a very small amount, a syringe full.”

“A test?” Fogal enquired softly, “But I thought you were… experimenting… last time you gave me blood?” 

“We aren't giving you blood this time.” Logan corrected, “We are taking a very small amount of blood from your arm, and then Dr Orange can do some tests on it to make sure that your blood is healthy.”

The merman paled.

“You want to take my blood?”

“A very small amount. You won’t even notice. I promise we will be careful. It's ok,” Logan soothed. The merman was far more anxious than Logan had been expecting - he was usually very good with needles, associating them with heroin and a release from pain.

“No, I, I, what do you need it for?”

“To make sure you are healthy. I promise this is a very common test…”

“That’s… I don't understand.” Fogal was trying to keep the panic from his voice, “You can't tell if people are healthy from blood. I know because all human blood tastes the same. Except if they have been drinking or on coke. And I promise I have only taken the drugs you have given me.” The merman was begging, “I can't move off this bed, I promise Logan. You don't need my blood, you know everything I promise.”

“Hey, hey, calm down Fogal.” Logan let his surprise leak into his voice, “This doesn't have to be frightening, it's very simple, it is just a small needle, it won't hurt much.” 

“Ok. Ok ok ok ok ok.” Fogal started tapping out a breathing pattern into his tail. Logan let him calm himself, -Pause. Calm. Please. Pause.- he asked.

“I can pause for a moment to let you calm yourself.” Logan allowed. The merman struggled through his breathing exercise, twitching occasionally against his restraints.

“Why?” Fogal finally gritted out.

“Blood contains many chemicals that can tell us about health. We give you opiates frequently, and so we are worried about giving you too much medication that will damage your liver and make you ill. We want you to stay healthy, so we want to check it.” Logan watched the words sink in. The merman continued to writhe in discomfort at the concept.

“I don’t understand why this one is so frightening to you,” Logan socially pressured, “you are usually so good with needles…”

“You want to take my BLOOD,” Fogal ratchetted right back up to borderline hysterical.

“It is a medical test. I myself undergo regular blood tests. It does no harm.”

“You let them take your blood. You.” Fogal whispered, still terrified. 

“Yes. There is no reason not to. It is for my health.”

Fogal shook his head, disbelieving.

“Blood is the soul, the lifeforce of the body. My cursed vampiric diet is proof of that.”

Ah that makes sense.

“I see why you came to that conclusion,” Logan conceded, “And why, because of that belief, you are more worried about this test.” He validated the feelings, “But if, as you say, blood has no use other than to nourish you, surely there is nothing nefarious we can do with your blood, other than the aforementioned medical reasons?”

“I can’t do magic with the blood…” and yet the merman was still near wordless with terror.

“And neither can we.” Logan tried to shut the conversation down, try to bulldoze on to the procedure so the sea monster could see a blood test was genuinely not frightening “Let us show you. Nurse Brunel is just going to put this piece of rubber tightly around your arm…”

The merman burbled with fear as the nurse secured a tourniquet around his upper arm.

“No, no Logan please, don't do this, Logan...” He started to writhe, viciously fighting his bonds, leather creaking.

“This is getting dangerous Logan,” Elias warned over the comms, “I don’t think he is ready…”

Logan acknowledged his co-anthropologist’s input, and dismissed it. If they gave up now, the sea monster would never allow the simple and essential procedure. And if he did try to fight, this would be a learning opportunity as to why resisting his captor’s wishes would always be fruitless. 

“It will only hurt a tiny tiny bit, a little needle, then it's fine.”

Nurse Brunel took up the needle.

“NO!” Fogal gasped. He looked Logan straight in the eye, and started to chant.

“Khri khmimi bdikula bziia”

“I don't know what he is saying.”

 “…aibdur tbluniikhi, prkha zika lmurika khdta…”

“Fogal, stop speaking, stop speaking and calm yourself.” Logan commanded, tone steady, before lowering his voice to speak into the microphone. “Is it a prayer?”

“Not one I recognise.” There was fear in Elias’ voice, “Logan, we should stop him. The merpeople’s magic is song based, and we don't know what he is saying.”

The fear in the room was palpable.

“Gag him,” the military coordinator intervened. Immediately, the merman was restrained from all angles, a rubber strap forced between his teeth as he screamed. “But complete the blood test anyway. We can’t keep letting him get away with bad behaviour.”

The sea monster writhed, and writhed and screamed and writhed. Nurse Brunel’s body language was showing his reluctance and pity, but still he forced the butterfly needle into the writhing merman’s arm.

a/n Nathaniel believes in witchcraft. It is very rare for Jewish people to believe in evil witchcraft nowadays, but Nathaniel is a couple of centuries old and from a time where a belief in witches was more common place, and from a place/time where witchcraft was viewed negatively (many times in history Jews were much more tolerant than Christians of witchcraft when being used for good, and most women kind of dabble in witchcraft cos thats what women do). 

And, he reasons, humans didn’t believe in merpeople till recently, so why couldn’t witches exist? (Witches are the same in the wine dark sea universe as they are in real life, but he is still afraid). 

I found this curse against witchcraft on My Jewish Learning, then anglicised it using google translate, making it equal opportunities indecipherable to anyone, whether you can read Hebrew or not.

But it is an awesome (but graphic):

Hot feces in torn date baskets in your mouth, witches; may your hairs fall out because you use them for witchcraft; your crumbs, which you use for witchcraft, should scatter in the wind;

[sweetmage]

Deathroot and Embrium for the OCs you most want to talk about (I can't decide!!)

Thank you for the ask!! <3 Let's see... Maybe I will do some characters I don't talk about often 🤔Also this got suuuuuper long! I am bad about that, sorry 😅 Embrium: What is the kindest thing anyone had ever done to your character, and do they remember or even know it happened?

One of the most pivotal moments during El'la's brief stay (about 2 years) in the circle was when they first met Owain. It was their first direct interaction with a tranquil mage and they implied that Owain was not a person because of what had been done to him. Their discussion on personhood and emotions really impacted El'la for several reasons: El'la is neurodivergent, they don't emote much, struggle significantly with understanding their own emotions and the emotions of others, and they have their own unique ways of processing and interacting with the world that others may fail to understand. Because of this, they were able to realize their ignorance in implying someone's situation (a cruel one at that, brought about through coercion and inspired by fear and shame) makes them less of a person. Someone close to her (Lorenzo, one of my other OCs) had been made tranquil (against regulations, at that). She never saw him, but she'd heard the news of it and was very unnerved by what that meant for him and what might have become of him. El'la and Lorenzo reconnect years later and she is better able to support and understand him. Most importantly, I think this event is what helped radicalize El'la. Living, breathing people were being exploited by the circle, used for labor and profit, their susceptible natures taken advantage of. On top of that, they were ostracized, othered, and used as examples as if their fate wasn't enough. El'la already despised the circle and the chantry as a whole, but this was certainly their tipping point. El'la aligned herself with the beliefs of libertarian fraternity and later the resolutionists. She also questioned the rest of the Chantry's warnings and teachings, seeking knowledge in "forbidden" practices and familiarizing herself with spirits, blood magic so that she may one day dispel the fears that had been ingrained in her and others about it and find a way to engage with these things in safe and informed manners. It wasn't a sweet and sugary kindness or an emotionally driven one at all, but the time he took to explain to them and undo their biases did more for them than anyone else could have. Deathroot: What is the most horrifying thing the Nightmare can cause your character to see? I am going to put this one under the cut because it contains horror elements and heavy themes relating to Tamlen, 'came back wrong' scenarios, and the like!

So Savil (pic included because, despite him being one of my OCs with the most detailed backstory as well a DAO and DAI playthrough, I basically never post about him for some reason😅) has a pretty clear and definitive fear. So for some backstory: ⚠ tw horror In his canon, after the ghoul attack on their camp, Tamlen is incapacitated but lives still. Savil informs the other Wardens that this is his friend and he would like some time alone to 'bury him', but he instead deserts the Wardens and runs off with Tamlen. Despite the dangers and ethical questions, he becomes consumed with finding a cure for him even as Tamlen loses more and more of himself. Sometime after DA2, Savil reunites with Merrill who, after much catch up, discussion, and hesitance cures Tamlen of the taint via blood magic. Initially it appears to be a "came back wrong" scenario, though as the years pass by he regains more of himself, his memories and motor skills slowly return, and is ultimately his happy and thankful for his life, but Savil remains horrified at the conditions he allowed him to live in for 7 years and how he selfishly played god with the life of someone he loved. Soooo... all that is to say, what he saw in the fade during DAI were the twisted forms of a Tamlen who was more grotesque and clearly suffering, a Merrill who was under duress and in despair, and many other ghoulish figures representing those he had cut down and never put in the effort to save like he did Tamlen. He has issues :)

[royalty-and-roses]

Give In To Me

2.9k words, mutual masturbation, f!receiving praise, tw: coercion, tw: guilt, tw: cheating, tw: choking

The tension between An and Allannia was at an all time high. The last time they were truly one-on-one resulted in him being on top of her in her bed. And she truly did not know what to make of it. Her willpower and loyalty to only Jun were in question. She felt guilty that he was on top of her at all; let alone the fact that she had let him begin kissing her neck and face. She even kissed his cheek before heading back to her chambers for the night. 

Looking into the mirror, Allannia grimaced at her reflection — wondering how she had let it go this far. Taking a deep breath, she fixed her hair and pulled the skirt of her gown straight. 

Her steps weren’t loud enough to be heard through the hallway, but opening his bedroom door came with a creaking and a thud when she closed it behind her. Finding the man, the sight of his back made her smile as she saw him practicing his swings – as he often did. 

“Hi, An!” She exclaimed gleefully. 

“Oh, my lady, I’m so sorry,” An started. He turned, giving her an exaggerated bow. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence.” 

“Stop it!” She giggled, as he moved to sheathe his sword. Seeing this, she perked up. “Wait! Can you show me?” 

An raised a brow at this, giving a bit of a chuckle. “Are you sure? Aren’t you all about your magic?”

“Well, yes, but I want to see what’s soooooo good about it that you’re always doing this.” 

With a roll of his eyes, An nodded and motioned for her to come over. Once she was by his side, he got behind her and began to place his sword in her hands. “Be a bit careful, it’s heavier than you’d expect; and there isn’t a ton of room in here.” 

Feeling the wrapped hilt under her hands, she got a firm grip on it. He helped her support the weight of it, but slowly gave less and less strength so that she could get the full idea. She squeaked a bit as she felt her wrists buckle against the weight, jumping a bit and bumping into his chest. 

Allannia could feel the vibrations of An’s deep chuckle, as he took the sword back. “It’s okay, I gotcha,” He said, putting one hand by her waist. “Don’t be scared of it; it won’t hurt you. Plus, my whole job is to make sure that you don't get hurt anyway.” 

She let him put it away, following the motions of his hands and arms the entire time. Finding herself entranced by his strong, scarred arms, more than a few moments of silence passed. 

“You okay?” He said, sitting down on his bed and leading her to do the same. 

“Mhm!” She hummed, getting comfortable on the warm bed.

“Good.” He said softly, giving her leg a pat. 

Allannia blushed pink at this, feeling a simultaneous pang of guilt. She knew how inappropriate this was, but couldn’t find it in her to care more than at the surface level.

With the way she looked up at him with those rosy cheeks, An couldn’t help but stare. His dark eyes traced every feature of her round face. 

While she was used to a stare like this, there was something deeply unfamiliar about his sharp – seemingly unfeeling – stare on her. It made her nervous, but not in a bad way, so she stared back at him with her blue doe eyes. 

Typical of him, An found himself making the move. Screw the other noble, what did he know about treating a woman?

Allannia laid under him now; An’s elbows kept him a short distance from her. Her face burned, the pink turning to bright red as she blinked up at him. 

“A… again?” She asked slowly, securing her hands to a place on either of his forearms. 

“You’re just so…” He mumbled, beginning to kiss at her jaw in the same exact way he had the last time. 

Making a soft noise of surprise, Allannia didn’t stop him from doing this and even lifted her chin to allow him access to her neck. He didn’t waste a moment and began to kiss her neck as well, slowly and minding her reactions the entire time. The way she breathed, the soft whines that left her, the way the pads of her fingers pressed into his arm. 

Going past her collarbone now, An exhaled deeply; a noise of content leaving him as he began to kiss into the collar of her dress. 

Removing her hands from his forearms, she cupped his face and shook her head slightly. “Don’t do that, please.” 

“Okay,” he nodded. An scooted down the bed a bit, kissing her stomach from over the fabric of her gown. 

She looked down at him, chewing at her lip, and he stared right back at her. 

“It doesn’t feel good?” He questioned, coming back up so they were level once again. 

“I… never said that.” She said quietly. 

An only hummed in response, leaning down in an attempt to kiss her mouth now – like everything before was leading up to this. However, she turned from his lips, making him begin kissing her neck again. He did so with no complaints. 

Leaning most of his body weight on one side, An grabbed her hip and pulled her body more firmly against his. He continued his ministrations on her neck, soon beginning to roll his knee between her legs. Harsher breaths left Allannia at this, along with a few whimpers. 

“Does that feel good?” He asked, almost condescendingly. 

“Y… yeah,” she started, trying to gather her composure. “I… I just don’t know if it’s right.”

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“Yes, please.”

And he did just as was asked of him. Rolling them over, he had her straddling him. “How about this instead?” 

Allannia was unable to meet his eyes. “I… I don’t usually do this.” She blushed. 

“Do what? Be the one in the lead?” He smirked, a teasing tone in his voice as he stared up at her. 

“Mhm…”

“Last time, you had a bit of confidence, leaning over me and looking down at me.” He remarked, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down her hip. 

Taking what he said as a bit of a challenge, she leaned over him – hovering their faces close together. 

“Thought you didn’t want to kiss me.” 

“I don’t, just playing along a bit.”

“Well, you’re the one leaning in, what if I met you?” “Well, then I could just pull away!” She giggled, as if that was not obvious. Her long curls fell in front of her face, getting in the way of them. “This is one of the reasons I don’t like doing this.” She pouted. 

“Oh, stop,” he cooed, cupping her face before running his fingers through her hair tenderly. Then, he put her hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it behind her head with no problem. 

Allannia’s smile at this made it worth it as she pressed a kiss to his cheek and rubbed her hands over his bare chest. 

An sat up, flipping them over again with a devilish grin as she squealed. His hands went to her legs first, securing them around his waist before he began to kiss her neck again. Following the column, he lowered one of the sleeves of her dress to kiss across her shoulder. 

Flicking his eyes back up at her, he noticed the nervous expression on her face. “Ya okay?” He said, brushing a piece of her hair behind her pointed ear. 

“Yeah… I’m just really worried someone is gonna walk in.” 

He could only smile at how endearing she was being. “No one is gonna walk in.” He assured her. “Promise.”

“Okay…” 

Seeing that she was still clearly worried, he gave her a sympathetic frown. “Okay, give me one second, I’ll make sure no one comes in.” He pushed off the bed, pulling the blanket to cover her disheveled figure. He adjusted his pants suitably before walking out the door. 

Allannia stared up at the ceiling, feeling the places that he had been kissing her with light brushes off her finger tips. 

After a few short minutes, he returned – immediately getting back on top of her. “Do you want to be a good girl?”

“But I am a good girl!” She protested, a look of shock crossing her face. 

His large hand wrapped around her throat, applying a light amount of pressure to her pulse point with his thumb. No arguments came from her with this. 

“No, princess, a good girl would give in to me.” He said firmly, using his hand to keep her looking at him and not allowing her to turn away. An got dangerously close to disobeying her wishes and kissing her, but he busied himself with her bottom lip. He ran his thumb across it, gently pushing it in different directions before putting it partially into her mouth for her to suck on. She did so briefly before pulling his hand away. 

Nodding softly, he began to kiss her neck again. He continued this for a long while. His knee returned between her legs to grind against her clothed clit. This was met with a soft gasp as she began to roll her hips against his leg. 

An pushed the straps of her dress down further, fully exposing her bra, before putting his hand in hers for her to focus on and hold. He repeated his actions from before, kissing from her collarbone down into her cleavage. Nosing the bra out of the way, he began to kiss her breast too. 

“An, no.” She protested between moans, but she made no move to stop him besides that. 

“I have to show you how you’re supposed to be treated, princess, no other man can make you feel like this.” He told her, returning his lips to her breast. His mouth wrapped around her nipple now: his tongue circled it as he sucked and even gently nipped at her. 

Allannia moaned soft, mainly whines and quick breaths leaving her. 

An tutted at her, shaking his head softly. “I don’t think you’re moaning as loud as you want to be.” He stopped his work at her chest for a moment, his hand swiftly going up the skirt of her gown. 

“A… An! I don’t think you…” She said, jumping out of surprise for the touch. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. If you want me to stop, just squeeze my hand.” An kept his hand still, palming the front of her panties. 

Quickly, she squeezed the hand that she was holding, panting a bit. 

“No, no, not that hand. Grab this one down here if you want me to stop.” She wiggled her hand from his grasp, beginning to move to grab his wrist. Then, he began to use his middle and ring fingers to rub circles over her slit; her clit catching between them occasionally and the weight of his palm against her stomach felt heavenly. This stopped her right in her tracks, not moving to stop him at all now. 

With a soft smile, he kept this up and began to suck at the breast that had yet to get any attention. 

All Allannia could focus on was his touch and how good it felt. Her moans were louder as her hips bucked to get more friction where she wanted it. 

Giving her chest a break, An leaned up to watch her face twist with pleasure. “Does that feel good?” 

The only response she could give was a nod. 

“Yeah? Are you close?” He asked lowly. 

“Y… yes!” She managed to squeeze out alongside a gasp. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not stopping.” 

After a few moments more of this, she began to chant his name alongside her moans. Pride swelled within him and he grinned as she grabbed onto his shoulders to find grounding. 

She grabbed his hand to stop him from overstimulating her as she panted. 

“Did you cum?” He asked, but he already knew the answer. 

Allannia turned her head away, flustered by the question. 

“Hmm? Did you?” 

“Y… yes.” She whispered, still panting and holding onto him tightly. 

“You moaned my name.” He said smugly. 

She ignored his ego, the feeling of her fingers and legs tingling had yet to stop. 

“Oh? What’s wrong?” He cooed, kissing softly at her neck again. 

“Can you just hold me? Please.”

Wordlessly, he laid by her side and pulled her into his chest, entangling their legs. She could, undeniably, feel the tent in his pants pressed up against her thigh. She elected to ignore it in favor of calming down, as she was a bit overwhelmed by this encounter. 

Rubbing her back, he looks at the wall ahead of him. Her eyes never left his face once; a meek voice left her now. “Pay attention to me.” 

Turning to meet eyes with her, he smiled. “Okay, okay.” He kept rubbing her back and side until she had fully recovered from her high. 

Seeing the pouty glare on her face, he was glad to see that her energy had returned. “What is it?” 

“I can’t believe you did that.” She whined. 

“What? Was that your first time doing anything like that?” He teased, as if he didn’t know the answer.

Pursing her lips, she turned away with a soft ‘hmph.’

“You owe me you know.” He said softly, leaning over her once more. “You haven’t done anything for me. Can’t you feel me poking you?” He mock-frowned at her, trying to hold back the laugh that wanted to come forward from his own words. 

“Doesn’t that show a lack of resolve?” Allannia countered, playfully glaring up at him. 

“I stopped holding back today.” He told her flat out, leaning to begin kissing down her neck again before placing his mouth over her nipple once more. An replaces his hand back onto her panties, beginning slow circles. Her hips jump at this and she whines softly to him. 

He slowly grabs her hand with his free one to bring down to his crotch, but quickly realizes that her size and the position they were in simply did not allow that. “You’ll have to use your other hand.” He chuckles, not guiding her hand to do that and leaving it up to her whether or not she wanted to.

Fishing her hand out from the sheets, she reached down to grab him through his pants. The look on her face tells him everything.

“Big?” 

“How would I know? I have no frame of reference.”

“Is that so?” He teases, picking up the pace a bit on his circles. Allannia can’t be bothered to answer, much too focused on the pleasure he is providing and the shallow up and down motion she is making through his pants. 

An thumbs at the waistband of her panties, but she stops him. “Just over, please.” “Are you sure?” Allannia nods, so he complies and continues on. 

Even faster than last time, she got shoved over the edge with loud moans of his name. He smiles and stops, brushing her hand away from his pants and helping her replace the straps of her bra and dress.

She pants, hiding her face in his shoulder now. 

“You know what this means?” An only received a whine in response. 

“You belong to me now. No other guy will ever be able to make you feel like that.”

Allannia is unable to protest, moving her head from hiding and just looking up at him again. She beckoned his attention even more than the previous time, which he gladly obliged.

Looking down at her, he smiled before beginning to lean in once more. Quickly, she backed up so their lips would not meet. 

“Even after all that, you still won’t kiss me?”

This clearly made Allannia think, so she sat there for a moment. Finally, she took a deep breath and slowly leaned in. He eagerly met her lips, cupping her cheek as they began to make out. The kissing lasts for sometime and he even begins to work his way downward once more, but she stops him. 

“You’re right, you’ll probably pass out if I do that another time.” He teased.

Pouting, she looked at him. “What was all that about anyway…”

“You were being a brat.” 

“What!” She exclaimed incredulously. 

“Mhm,” He hummed. “Don’t worry, you’re a good girl now.” An pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Now, dinner is very soon, princess. You ready to pretend this didn’t happen? You can’t tell anyone.”

Allannia nodded dumbly at him as he rubbed his thumb over her lips again. 

“Okay, I’ll see you there, alright?” She nodded again, but didn’t make a motion to leave yet. She only stared at him, clearly expecting something now. 

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Go on, I’ll be there soon.”

Frowning, it looked like she was expecting something else to come with the kiss, but she turned to make her leave anyway. 

“Do you want me to apologize?” He questioned, noticing her distress, but not quite pinpointing what it was that she was distressed over. 

“N… no, I just…” She took a deep breath. “I’m not just… another girl. Am I?” 

“Listen, I may have been with women in the past, but this isn’t a conquest thing. This meant something. We’ll talk more after dinner, okay?” 

[llimerrence]

A quick write up of the bride au, based on this FIC (tw flutter/cord), just ya know, with 100% of things changed lmaoooo

Things start the same as the fic, and for the beginning, i’m literally just gonna copy from the website:

“ As the story begins, we are told that Discord escaped from the Mane 6 and thus, didn’t turn into stone in Season 2. The mane 6 are terrified and decide to wear their elements at all times in case he comes back.  Three years pass and Twilight has been made a princess by this time and her friends visit her in Canterlot to help prepare for the next Grand Galloping Gala. Princess Cadence also reveals that she and Shining Armor are going to have a baby. While the ponies converse, Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadance are summoned to Saddle Arabia to stop a “terrible crisis” leaving Twilight in charge of the Gala and Equestria until they return. Discord, while hiding out, comes up with a plan to keep the Mane 6 from using the Elements of Harmony and caused the crisis in Saddle Arabia which turns out to be a trap for the three alicorns. At the Gala, everything goes smoothly for a while, and Discord hides himself as a stallion so that he can observe the ponies before Discord finally reveals himself to the group. Before Twilight can act, Discord makes her horn disappear and her friends reveal that they stopped wearing their elements all the time because they thought Discord would not return. He reveals that he has the princesses hostage and hidden away and if any pony tries to stop him than they and the unborn foal, which he reveals is a girl, will be harmed. He starts a rain of chaos that lasts through the night and Twilight feels doubt over her ability as a ruler. As the night passes, Discord notices Big Macintosh and Cheerilee on a date and despite his attempts to sabotage it, they still have a good time. Discord cannot help but feel jealous and sad that he has no one but himself and a shoulder devil to talk to, but his loneliness dissipates when he decides to return to the palace. While there, Discord continues to fool around with the ponies until he reveals he wants to negotiate. After some discussion to give him a chance they are finally, ready to ask what they have to do for him to stop his chaos. He orders things in exchange for the princesses:

- They cannot use the Elements of Harmony against him ever again. - He gets his own castle of chaos, the only place where he can use magic.

After some more thought, he comes up with a third for them to get the princesses back.-

- a bride.

The mane 6 are appalled by the last request but the chaos bringer says that the mare must come of her own free will with no coercion before he leaves. In a cave, the draconequus gloats to his hostages, who are hornless, about his plan being a success and getting a bride out of it. While they laugh at the idea of him having a bride, they claim he won’t succeed but he still continues with pride. He makes them disappear before Twilight and her friends reach the cave. The ponies arrive at his hideout and agree to the first two requests; they are even willing to give him the Elements as proof but he lets them keep them, Twilight gives him the Castle of the Two Sisters in the Everfree Forest as his domain, but they can’t bring themselves to agree to his desire for a bride. Discord decides to give them three days to make up their minds or he’ll choose one himself. During these days, Twilight discovers that the sun and moon have not been risen or lowered and she realizes that even if Discord’s chaos is gone, the order in Equestria remains out of balance without Celestia and Luna. She tearfully admits that there is no choice; Discord must have a bride.”

…. okay, let me write up what the difference is here:

Celestia requested for her second favorite pony to bring her special delicacies to the Gala. Not to mention the fact that Rarity, her friend, requested Candy to be her ‘plus one’. While Discord is disguised, Candy offers him one of her special delicacies, which happens to be in shades of pink. He thanks her and gives her a snide comment about the gala, She offers a kind and sort of amused smile, before being led away by Rarity. (This meeting is unlikely to have made any lasting impression on Discord.)

Things go basically the exact same EXCEPT Candy tells Rarity that she’ll offer herself up as a Bride, and despite Rarity’s insistence of otherwise, Candy tells Rarity that she feels useless. Any time something goes wrong, she can do nothing but sit helplessly. This is the first time she can do something for the good of Equestria, plus, can being with someone who likes to make it rain chocolate milk really be that bad? However, she makes the mane 6 promise not to tell Celestia of her decision until at least one month has passed.

When Candy is announced as the mare chosen, she is wearing a veil, but she gives Discord the one caveat, that she will not actually marry him until she falls in love with him. But she won’t marry anyone besides him. He gets everything else he wanted, and he can tell how much the mane 6 do not want to give this pony up. So, he agrees if only because he thinks it’ll be quite funny.

He snaps himself and Candy away from his hideout, and to the castle that’s been promised to him. In the castle, he gives Candy her own room. The princesses are returned, and the mane six feel like they have failed by allowed Discord to take Candy. Reasonably, Rarity and Celestia are the ones most affected by her missing presence.

Candy does her best to not reveal that she’s blind, believing that he’ll either use to his advantage, or be offended that the ponies gave him a ‘broken’ one. So, in doing this, she also is never without the veil, always using it to hide her eyes from him. And anytime he tries to see her face, she will go as far as to smack his hands away from her. Citing it to be ‘inappropriate’ for him to see under the veil before their wedding day. This is clearly a lie. It only intrigues him more.

Who is the little pony who so willingly agreed to be Discord’s Bride, why is she so insistent on hiding her face, and why does she not seem afraid or upset to be there? Aren’t most ponies scared of him? Yet, Here she is, happily sitting and listening to his plans to take over Equestria.