#·:*¨༺ ♱CRIMSON♱ ༻¨*:·

[smpqueer]

"these people think that disabilities are trends!" they are , i honestly do not care if you fake a disorder i have or identify with it because its ' trendy '.. i have cisOSDD, i love osdd fakers. i have cisNPD, i love NPD fakers. i have cisAVPD, i love AVPD fakers. I FUCKING LOVE FAKERS !!!!!!!!!!!

i am a proud ASPD faker for life :3

[dxnse-macabre]

plotted crimson peak au starter for @remaimed my love!!! <3

HIS COAT WAS DAMP, DESPITE HIS HAT AND UMBRELLA . astarion had sat out in the pouring rain for far too long, almost questioning whether or not cassian's father would even LEAVE for the event with how long he took. but when he heard the front doors swing open, followed by the CRACK of horse reins, he KNEW the moment the older man had departed.

him and cazador had a PLAN. marry one of the individuals here, man or woman, it didn't matter. all that mattered was the money, the temporary security ... knowing that his projects would always be funded so as long as astarion stayed young and beautiful, with cazador by his side.

this process of the ... method ... was one of the more risky ones. find a candidate and make them fall in love with you. the falling in love part was easy, but finding a candidate was often the most difficult part of it -- especially since you never knew their baggage.

but he had a gut feeling with this one. cassian. he didn't know why, but he just did. perhaps it was out of intrigue if anything, but maybe a small inkling could have even be REVENGE . REVENGE after ridiculing him in front of a counsel of men who could have SPONSORED his very projects ...

he can imagine the old man's face now, walking in with cassian on his arm. oh, how would heads spin ...

he reached out onto the door knocker, greeting the housemaid that greeted him before finally testing the man's name on his lips :

❝ i'm actually here for CASSIAN . ❞

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing. 

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort. 

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him. 

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you. 

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.” 

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?” 

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.” 

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” 

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.” 

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses. 

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.” 

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point. 

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free. 

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.” 

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over. 

“Mmh… I want you.” 

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise. 

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds. 

“Haaah!” 

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.” 

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?” 

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.” 

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you. 

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.” 

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more. 

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange. 

This was the most erotic you had been with him. 

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.” 

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.” 

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!” 

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!” 

“Faster?” 

“S-Sylus!” 

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.” 

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle. 

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.” 

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her. 

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead. 

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were. 

“You shouldn’t.”

~~

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you. 

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.

“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head. 

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood. 

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood. 

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion. 

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.” 

“Roger that, boss.” 

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you. 

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!” 

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line. 

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?” 

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you. 

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.” 

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.” 

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying. 

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…” 

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen. 

Like a good girl, for him. Always. 

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?” 

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms. 

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly. 

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.” 

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—” 

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.” 

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?” 

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub. 

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

~~

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal. 

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way. 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you? 

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone? 

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?” 

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.” 

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy. 

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.” 

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.” 

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside. 

Why? Why can’t it be me? 

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you. 

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him. 

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!” 

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.  

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach. 

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go? 

~~

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath. 

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked. 

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.

“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.” 

SECOND PART

[ohproserpine]

iv. dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago

˚୨୧₊♱

"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.

With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"

"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"

Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"

A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.

"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"

Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.

"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."

"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"

Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"

"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.

As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"

Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"

Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."

˚୨୧₊♱

The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.

Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.

Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.

Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.

"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."

"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."

"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"

Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."

A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"

“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"

With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.

Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."

"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"

"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.

"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."

"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.

Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.

As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.

"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"

With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"

As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.

On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.

Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.

Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.

"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.

The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.

"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."

"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"

Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.

Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.

The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.

"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."

"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"

Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.

The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.

"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.

"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"

"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.

"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"

Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."

"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"

Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."

Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"

"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."

Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"

The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.

"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.

"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."

"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.

"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.

Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.

˚୨୧₊♱

You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.

You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.

"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."

Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.

A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.

You missed your husband.

With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸

A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.

Alastor.

Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.

With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.

"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.

Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.

"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."

Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.

From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.

Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.

The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.

You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.

In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.

Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.

The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"

"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"

"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."

Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.

To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract

"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"

"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.

"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.

"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.

"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."

"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.

"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."

A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."

Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.

"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.

"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.

Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.

“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”

"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."

“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”

Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.

"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"

Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.

A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "

Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.

"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"

"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."

Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.

The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.

The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.

Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.

"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.

"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."

˚୨୧₊♱

[absfawn]

♱ soft and silly sex with abby, but it’s just your body being caged beneath hers, her hands on either side of your head on the pillows that were once neatly placed, now messy under you. your hands hold onto her arms, nails lightly sinking into her skin and creating crescent-shaped moons in your wake, and her forehead is pressed against yours, watching every single action you make. abby adores the way your lips part, eyes flutter closed and your grip on her gets tighter with each thrust of her hips. it’s not fast, nor is it rough, it’s just enough to pull soft whimpers and whines from you. enough to have you feeling like you’re on cloud nine. for a moment, she doesn’t notice the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, it’s only when she removes one hand from beside you, to reach down and rubs light circles on your clit, eliciting a loud gasp from between your lips at the ministrations of her fingers that her eyes lock with yours, and she notices. “did i hurt you?” she murmured, voice laced with worry. she quickly lowers her head to kiss away a tear that falls. “do you want to stop?”

“no! no” you giggled, shook your head and cupped her face between your hands gently, thumbs stroking her cheeks lightly. “no, never stop. m’just feeling a lot of emotions, good ones, but don’t stop” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips when she leans into your palm and kisses your skin. “you’re so beautiful” you can’t help but tell her, voice soft, smooth and gentle. one she always wants to hear. 

the apples of her cheeks change in colour, crimson red, at your words, but she’s barely able to form her own because your hand is moving down, no longer holding onto her arm, and instead you’re cupping her ass, squeezing the flesh tightly and tearing a groan from between her lips. the sound makes your clit throb.

“always knew you loved my ass a little too much” abby breathlessly laughed against your forehead, kissing it a few seconds later.

“yes well, sometimes i want to bite it” your voice slightly shaky but you still managed to grin up at her. like she wasn’t currently deep inside your cunt and making you forget everything you did this week. 

“s’cute, one day” she promised, smugly smirking at your sudden gasp, her fingers still rubbing circles against your clit. “don’t know if you can handle all that though, pretty girl”

“can handle you now, can’t i?”

♱ soft and silly sex with abby, who continues to pepper kisses all over your face, pressing soft ones to your lips, seconds after she helps you through your 3rd orgasm of the night. fingers lightly trailing up and down your legs, nose brushing up and down your throat as you try to steady your breath. your fingers thread through her damp hair, smiling and giggling when her breath fans your skin. 

the sound of your heartbeat calms her, and the sound of her hushed whispered words into your skin grounds you. the safety her hold and touch brings you, makes you sniffle and bury your face into the softness of her hair. abby doesn’t have to say anything, sometimes she doesn't need to. her actions alone are words. so she lays there, body on yours like a perfectly weighted blanket, and her fingers trace patterns on your hip slowly, lips leaving soft feather-like kisses on your shoulder. “thank you” you’re quiet, tired, and still feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “and not just for tonight, for everything, for being so gentle and patient. going at my pace, always” you mumbled into her hair.

“you deserve everything, i’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable. m’glad i get to have you all to myself. to take care of you, i love taking care of you, and it warms my heart that i’m the person you feel safest with. that’s all i want. for you to be safe, and loved. because i love you, with all my heart” abby admits, lifting her head at your sudden sniffle, her words melting your heart completely, and brushed her lips against yours. “i love you”

“i love you, always”

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆THINKING ABOUT...

Content Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Fluff, Smut, Masturbation (M), Oral (F receiving), Perv! Sanemi. Reader is the same age as Sanemi, Filth. Mdni.

Pairings: Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem! Tsuguko Reader.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 loves admiring you from afar, and never confessed his feelings for you. He’s always making sure that you’re safe whenever you’re on a solo mission while justifying and convincing himself that he’s just being a responsible hashira and totally not a creepy stalker. After all, a responsible hashira needs to protect his tsuguko, right?

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always mask his obsession attraction and love by being all grumpy and pushing you to your limits during training, only to spoil you and be gentle to you afterwards. He just really likes giving you mixed signals.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 doesn’t allow you to go on missions with other people — especially not with those lower ranking demon slayers, he only lets you go on solo missions, or missions with the hashiras and him. He doesn’t let you go on missions with Giyuu and Tengen though.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 intimidates people who tries to approach you. Why bother talking to them? You have him after all. He is stronger and more capable than them after all.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 can read but can’t write since he never really got proper education and he spent his life slaying demons, so he mostly asks you to teach him how to write, but he’d end up getting flustered when you would grasp at his hand and help him how to properly write the letters.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 cooks food for you and acting like your husband instead of your predecessor. He loves cooking foods for you, loving the way your eyes would lit up and lovin’ the way that you would smile and thank him.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always insist on giving you a massage, after a strenuous training session, his hands kneading away the tension in your muscles. He’d murmur apologies for pushing you so hard, but he’d end up saying that the only reason why you’re so sore because you’re too weak.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always allow you to join him soak in the hotspring in his estate. However, whenever you would bathe with him, his cheeks would flush crimson, and he would avoid meeting your gaze, because his fuckin’ mind would start to conjure inappropriate things.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 has zero tolerance for anyone disrespecting you. Catch him overhearing even a whisper of slander about you? He’ll make sure to make the person shut up and makes sure to make their life miserable.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 absolutely hates it whenever he hears that you’ve been injured and ends up scolding the shit outta you and making you not go on missions for some weeks and not letting you out of his sight.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 started having weird dreams of you — however, this time it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, and innocent like the last one.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself getting a wet dream about you, where he was on his knees before you, his mouth eagerly devouring your dripping cunt, tongue swirling skillfully over your needy clit, and eliciting sweet, desperate moans from your lips.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ended up waking up with a feverish body and flushed face and a cock that’s stiff and aching from the steamy dreams that had him moaning in the dead of night like a bitch in heat.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 let out a frustrated groan as he saw the bulge in his pants, because damn, he despised jerking off and he rarely did it because he thought that it’s just a ‘waste of time’, but he couldn't resist giving himself a little pleasure, his dick was just begging for it after all.

Sanemi shot a frustrated glare at the prominent bulge straining against his pants, his annoyance growing at the sight of the small, glistening wet spot that adorned the fabric.

Did he cum in his pants while sleeping or was it because his dick is licking pre? Either way, he didn’t liked it.

“Fuck...”

he grunted in exasperation, a slight shift in his stance prompting him to swiftly unbuckle his belt.

With a smooth motion, he let his pants drop down to his mid-thigh, a wince crossing his face as his cock sprung free, slapping against his abdomen with a lewd sound.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” His eyes widened slightly at the sight of how hard he is.

Sanemi sighed as he hocked a thick wad of saliva into his palm, and winced slightly as he grabbed the base of his cock, feeling it pulsate in his hand and ooze precum.

“What the fuck am I even doing?”

He muttered, his hand trembling as he slid it along his length, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he dragged his thumb over the sensitive tip, feeling the slickness there.

“This is such a waste of time,”

he grumbled underneath his breath.

“You better behave after I take care of you, you hear me?” He chastised his dick as if it has a mind of its own as he started to moved his hand up and down his cock.

“Stupid fucking hormones,”

he cursed, his grip tightening around his cock. He adjusted his hand for better leverage, and he made sure to press his fingertips against the sensitive underside with each stroke, relishing the way the veins pulsed beneath his touch.

He sat on the futon, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, the sounds of lewd squelching and his hand moving vigorously over his dick echoing in the room.

It was a relief that today was his day off, free from any missions or distractions.

But the memory of the wet dream that had left him throbbing and aching still pissed him off, because what the fuck, he was supposed to relax and get the sleep he rarely get instead of waking up in the middle of the night and jerking off just because a dream had him all wet and bothered!

Thoughts of you suddenly invaded his mind as he stroked himself, his heavy breathing mixing with the dirty sounds of his fists moving against his slick cock.

Gripping tighter, he recalled the taste of your cunt in his tongue, and it was a phantom sensation that felt too real to be a mere dream.

He started to stroke himself faster, breathing heavily as he started to fantasize about the things that he wants you to do to him.

He wanted you to sit on his face, suffocate him with your thighs, and smother him.

He wants you to use him.

He couldn’t help but close his eyes and let his fantasy take over. The image of your hands moving on his cock flashed through his mind.

“Fuck, [Name]...” he groaned. Imagining that it was your fingers expertly coaxing pleasure from him instead.

The mere thought of you whispering filthy words in his ear sent a shiver down his spine, and a low whine escaped his lips, the muscles in his abdomen tensing and contracting with pleasure as he nears his release.

“fuckk, just a little bit more...”

He said as a whine escaped his lips.

He was about to cum until he suddenly heard a knock on his door.

“Shinazugawa-Sama? Are you alright? I’ve heard some weird sounds coming from here...”

He heard your voice say, and he froze.

Fuck... He forgot that you also lived with him.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: ❤️‍🔥𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐨.<𝟑

[ectologia]

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐼𝒩 𝒜 𝑅𝒰𝒯 ؛ 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ forced breeding ﾉ forced pregnancy ﾉ clit spanking ﾉ creampie ﾉ misogyny ﾉ rut ﾉ baby trapping ﾉ feral keigo ﾉ piss ﾉ marking ﾉ profanity

Keigo’s bigger, softer around the edges but still with that slight cut of pristine muscle lining his torso and limbs. His wings thicken, puffy with a fat down blanketing them with gentle red bristles.

Sweaty too. He doesn’t want to wear any clothes. Granted, he says that all the time. But now it’s not just a want, it’s a need. A priority. He doesn’t feel fit to carry out his primitive desires when he’s being held back and restrained by all that stupid cotton and leather. He needs to be free, needs to let his manhood breathe. Otherwise how could he possibly carry out his responsibility as a daddy? That’s right, he couldn’t.

You leave him to his ludicrous antics of digging out nests in your bed. Making a fine art of curling every blanket, quilt and pillow in the house into a cushty barricaded circle atop your mattress, slapping at the cuddly pile of fabric with an almost crazed look, claiming that your “eggs” are going to be so warm and safe there. Or otherwise scenting you, rubbing his damp neck and hair all over your body, starting off with a gentle kiss to your temple, before sliding down your torso to rub his palms against that little pouch of flesh he knows he’s going to put his babies in, eventually.

Keigo doesn’t like the fact that you still insist on walking around the house fully clothed. He doesn’t, so why do you need to? You’re his mate, his wife, his other half. He knows it’s time to procreate, so why don’t you?

He follows you around the house on another one of your cleaning sprees. His nose wrinkles at the acrid scent of chemicals and lemon in the air, scratching at his throat and burning his sensitive nostrils as you continue to wipe the surfaces and spray away the scent of masculine sweat he worked so hard on drowning the house in. Do you really want another male entering his territory?

There’s only the slightest ring of yellow encircling his otherwise blown pupils. He tunes out after the first 10 seconds of your ranting and scolding. Something about how nobody’s going to “steal you away” if he doesn’t piss on the front door. Yeah, we’ll see about that, he scoffs to nobody but himself, plucking a bent feather from his rugged cape of crimson to flick and mould it back to shape, flicking at the fibrous hairs.

“Keigo, are you even listening to me?” You clap your hands in his face, attempting to garner his attention. “Hello?”

He doesn’t like that one bit, the flailed movements seeming all to similar to an opposing threat, a predator. He blinks away the carnal instinct to rip your arms out of their sockets and puncture your skull with his teeth. “Yes.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it. Can you repeat any of what I just said?”

“Stop pissing outside.”

“And what else?”

“And on the door.”

Glowing ember’s narrow as you huff, massaging your temples as you begin to pace, stomping about the kitchen with a cloth and spray bottle in hand.

He shudders at the sharp hiss of the pump, spitting at the granite counter and washing away his mark.

“Baby..” He draws closer, wings twitching at the irritating squeak of polished marble. Two large hands, both streaked with thick prominent veins clasp your waist in an attempt to bring your rear closer towards his erect, naked member.

“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”

An elbow jabs at his ribs as you continue to scrub away at the surface, leaning over the edge with the pudgy mound of your pussy swaying against his cock and balls with a tantalising momentum.

Before you know it, the bottle is yanked out of your hand and chucked against the wall. The towel clutched between your fingers meets the same fate, ripped in two by a set of talons and left in shreds on the floor.

“Keigo!” You shriek, already pushing against him as he grips you by the neck. “Get off! What’s wrong with you!”

It’s a rhetorical question, and one he has no interest in answering anyway. Too busy with pulling the silk of your pyjama pants down to your toes, along with those stupidly skinny pieces of sheer string you seem to think pass as underwear. He can already see globs of slick bubbling along the apex of your pussy hole. He grins at the sight, running a bent knuckle through the valley of your puffy folds. At least your body knows what it was made for.

“Keigo, stop!” There’s a hint of panic in your voice, squirming as he squeezes the delicate tendons holding your spine in place. Holding you by the scruff as though you were a bad puppy.

He sighs, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his crazed revolution. His wings extend behind him as he clutches his throbbing shaft in his palm, swirling and bathing the velvety tip in your cunny juice. “I’m sorry, chickadee. But this is just how it is in the real word.” There’s a solemn silence, a heavy seriousness to the air as though he wasn’t rubbing his pulsating slit against your clit, collecting its oozing wetness for an easier turn of events. “You gotta’ take what you want. Gotta’ just fuck it out. Otherwise, we’d go extinct.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t we, honey bun?”

“Ngh — !” The edge of the counter jabs at your hip bones, rolling on delicate skin that’s sure to be bruised after the ordeal. Your waist bucks as he smacks his swollen tip against your nervous bud.

“Mmh, this is what you wanted.” He repeats the motion, flicking his wrist faster and faster until his spanking becomes rhythmic, slapping the sluggish weight of his member up and down on your pussy. It’s a strategic move on his part, torturing your poor sensitive clitty so you’ll be all that more grateful when he moves on to the main course. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He coos as your back hunches, unsure as to whether you’re trying to curl into the pleasure or away from the pain.

After collecting a sufficient amount of lubrication, he does the same, practically clambering onto the counter with your spine arched in his hands as though he were some type of feral beast or savage hound, hung and ready to fuck and breed his bitch. He squats over your quaking form, shoving you along the smooth surface until his drooling dick nestles itself neatly between the cleft of your asscheeks, bobbing against your scared twat with his tensed ball-sack swinging closely behind.

It’s a wildly contorted position, but one Keigo insists on nonetheless.

“Agh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He grunts. “I’ve been waiting so fuckin’ long, and you just wouldn’t let me fuckin’ have it.” Pulling and tugging on your swollen labia, he separate your sticky little slit until all that’s left to shield you is the tense ring of muscle defending your hole. “Well, that’s fine by me chickadee.” He slips inside with a breathy chuckle, giggling and chortling to himself even as you yelp in pain. “I’ll just do it myself.”

It’s fast paced with an ill rhythm. There’s no love or care to be felt in his thrusts, just cruel harsh punishment, a means to an end until Keigo gets to pump his babies into your precious womb, fill you with his chicks so you can finally be a family. A proper family.

“Agh, and we can do Christmas, and Halloween, and go to the beach.” The thought is almost arousing to him, motivating him into humping your rear faster. “Won’t that be fun, little bird?”

He can be sure you’re crying, or at least close to it. He pays your silent tears no mind, blaming it on the excitement of your new life taking will.

“Kei, please! I told you, I’m not ready!” You arch your neck to plead with him.

His smile falters, twisting into something much more sinister and lecherous. He clamps a palm over the back of your skull and turns you back to the wall, facing your pitiful expression away from him. “You don’t need to be ready. I’ll do everything for you.” A calm hiss meets yours ear. “All you need to do, is lay back and take it.”

He digs into your stomach, smashing your insides to pieces as you lay paralysed beneath him. Cold marble presses against your forehead, cooling your fever as Keigo claps into you from above, a heavy set of hung balls knocking against you.

“Keigo!” You chant his name, broken as you wail out a string of pained moans.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear.” Keigo practically howls. “Let’s be animals baby!”

The domes of his knees crash down either side of you, evidence of his newly contorted position as he ruts into your cunt, foaming at the mouth where his teeth grind. “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna’ breed this pretty muff full ‘a seed.”

“Keigo, no!”

Funny you seem to think you’re still in charge. After this, you’re never gonna be empty again. He’s gonna stuff you one kid after another and as many as it takes until you become his cute little housewife. The kind that only cooks and cleans and looks after his babies while he’s out working and providing. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together sweet pea.

Keigo belts with laughter as you scream, thrashing and jerking beneath him as he spurts, spraying his seed deep inside your belly and then some. He slips out halfway, looking down to admire the ring of white sewing your gummy crevice together. “Mmh, now that’s what I’m talking about..”

[gothicminxx]

Sylus x Fem! Reader

CW: Mention of injury and blood, yandere Sylus, slight cameo from Xavier, no use of Y/N, Sylus calls you doll.

In honor of Sylus being released I couldn’t help but write about his man. Kicking my feet, giggling, and blushing.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*

He patiently stood on a janky roof with rotting wood. The stench of mold wafting in his nostrils and the pouring rain only amplified the unpleasant aroma. Thick evergreen trees concealed his looming figure, a perfect spot to watch through the eyes of his raven that perched on its own tree a few miles west. Calmly the bird observes a figure that has since piqued his interest in every lifetime. A peculiar soul that has only ever belonged to you. Though a rare and delicate rose like yourself intrigued three others. Tragically, you were not his alone.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched you often through various objects. A curious raven or strange crimson robotic eye in the sky— those times he had gotten careless, you caught him on occasion, not that you knew what the object was. He could not help it, you simply intrigued him. The vain of his existence being in every lifetime you would interest him. Such a pity.

Shamelessly his raven watched as you stood deep in the forest. Your jeans were dirty from mud splattering on the material, your leather boots were caked with a mixture of mud and grass, and your clothes clung to your body— soaked to the bone in pouring rain. But the weather conditions appeared to have little effect on you as you continued to run through the muddy terrain. Your eyes stared intently at your hunters watch, Sylus could only assume you were after a wanderer, “What a persistent little thing.” He chuckled to himself.

You were stubborn and oftentimes a bit too arrogant for your own good, especially when it came to combat. You refused to follow orders, going into the forest alone in search of a wanderer far out of your caliber. But your partner was nowhere to be found— you were never the type to wait around. Even if the task at hand was presented as dangerous, in the name of justice you sought to protect. “Such arrogance.” Sylus hummed, observing as you puffed your chest, and bared your teeth like some sort of wild animal to a wanderer triple your size.

Besides being arrogant, Sylus would also describe you as being reckless. When your adrenaline levels were high you barely thought with a coherent brain. This got you into trouble more than not.

With an overconfident stride you lunged forward with your sword, slicing the wanderer enough to earn a shrill shriek of pain and fury. A cocky smirk appears on your features as your sword is struck in its skin, piercing at its flesh. The wanderer growls in response, clearly growing agitated with the injuries it sustains from the blade of your sword. You were a fierce warrior, Sylus would commend you for that. But he knew the rating class of the wanderer in battle with you currently.

The wounds on the wanderer began to heal, its anger towards you palpable, and yet you refused to surrender as you raised your sword once more. Before you could strike, its massive foot made contact with your body, a yelp escaped your lips as its claws penetrated the flesh of your thigh. Within seconds the wanderer flung you in the air causing you to crash against a tree. You gasped for air as oxygen was deprived from your lungs, eyes wide in fear, and a hand reaching out as if to claw at the tree— practically begging for a savior.

Sylus prepared himself to intervene— this had gone too far. But when his crow squawked, he halted from rushing to the scene. A flash of pure radiant white light caught his attention. The beam was blinding that it almost resembled the welcoming embrace of an angel— utterly captivating.

Flashes of colors from the rainbow soon intertwined with the white beam creating a beautiful show of light. Sylus could hear the wanderer screeching a haunting melody within the wall of colors, meeting its demise, he could only assume.

Seconds passed and the noise dissipated into the unknown, alongside the glittering rays of color. The crow titled its head curiously to a tuft of white fluffy hair kneeled beside your body, concern evident on his face.

He wore a classic hunters uniform. Perhaps he was the missing partner that got you into this predicament. His azure eyes studied his surroundings for a moment to assess any present danger. When he found none, he tended to you. He carefully aided you back on your feet, holding your chin in his gloved hand to examine your face, “Are you okay?” His gentle voice asked.

Still bewildered from the previous battle you blinked a couple of times, slowly nodding your head as if processing his question. There was an aura of familiarity between the both of you. You allowed him to touch your skin to check for further injury. He was tender with you, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll that could break if touched wrong. Sylus could only grimace at the interaction, balling a scornful fist. The man was one of the three, Sylus knew this to be fact, he’d seen an exchange with the two of you before. Though, this one was much different than the last time. He no longer appeared to be a stranger to you.

The milky haired man frowned, placing a wet strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture felt over protective and affectionate, “It’s too dangerous for you to be out here alone.”

Sylus took note of the sparkle in your eye when you looked at him, the demure smile that flashed across your lips at his concern, and slight nuzzle against his palm. He was as important to you, as you were for him. There was a twinge of jealousy that tightened his chest, he should be the one touching your skin. He had to remind himself that the time would soon come. Sylus meticulously crafted a plan to insert himself into your life.

“You never showed, I couldn’t just wait.” You shrugged nonchalantly, it was almost comical to Sylus. You were near death’s doorstep for a moment, and acted as though it was merely another day in the office.

“I was trying to assess the danger myself,” The man sighed, “You could have been killed.”

“I’m okay, Xavier.”

It was evident you were far from okay. Traces of blood scattered your cheek due to small scratches from the tree. There were lacerations on your thigh from the wanderers' sharp claws, deep crimson blood now stained your damp pants. Xavier scowled, “You’re bleeding.”

Before you could retort, Xavier picked you up, “Let’s get you somewhere warm and cleaned up.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺

Sylus sat on a plush leather couch, his fingers tapping impatiently on his lap. The time is finally here, the lamb has entered the lion's den. Naively you drank his offering even if you were warned of possible dangers— your ego was still intact. Your persistence to find answers was admirable to him, but in the end it would come with a price.

A knock rang on the cherry wooden door before opening, “The prey has been caught, sir.” His assistant informed with a bow.

He smirked, finishing off his whiskey, and sauntering toward your location. The black liquid you drank earlier, was spiked with sleeping pills to make it easier for them to capture you. He couldn’t take any risks, you were a fighter afterall.

Sylus reached a large metal door with two of his men guarding the entrance. They gave him a nod as the door opened. He walked inside, noticing your body sat on an uncomfortable metal chair, your hands and legs were bound to it. You appeared to be groggy as your eyes wandered around the room— clearly confused by your new surroundings. “Ah, you’re awake.” Sylus stated.

His baritone voice caught your attention as your body stiffened the closer he got to you. Sylus could sense the immediate tension, your jaw clenching not going unnoticed by him, “Who are you?” You asked, your voice going up an octave as if you were preparing to shout at him.

He walked circles around you, practically sizing you up. In this moment you looked like a helpless little doll, which was different compared to the fierce and reckless warrior he knew you as. “Sylus.” He responded simply.

Sylus kneeled in front of you, his crimson eyes studying your every feature. You were much more beautiful than he anticipated, he was used to seeing you from afar that this level of proximity made his heart hammer in his chest. He understood the decades of intrigue from the three others and his own. A true enchantress that drove him mad with obsession. “Why am I here?” You snarled.

Your tone made him chuckle, “As I asked before, will you become the hunter or the hunted?” He tapped against the chair, “Seems you were hunted.”

“Are you some sort of pervert?” Your voice is full of contempt.

He shook his head, “No, nothing of the sort. You see, when you enter the N109 zone, there are no rules. We made a deal, you should have listened to your friend when he told you to tread carefully.”

Sylus stood on his feet, checking his watch to appear bored of the conversation. But you fascinated him, more than you could possibly understand. Currently as you sat captured there was an aura of defiance. A man as intimidating as himself did not shake you with trepidation; it was almost— thrilling.

For a moment your eyes widened in realization of your earlier conversation with Rafayel and the drink you accepted, “I only care about receiving intel.” You scoffed.

He placed a slender finger under your chin and tilted your head up to meet his scarlet eyes. A shiver ran up your spine, the sound of your breath catching in your throat made him lean in. “You’ll receive your intel in due time.” Sylus whispered, “But you’ll play by my rules, doll.”

Now that Sylus finally obtained you again, he’d make sure it was forever. He was never good with farewell’s, this time it would be different.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*

[rinseis]

RUMOR HAS IT HE’S PUSSY-WHIPPED [ RYOMEN SUKUNA ]

❥ more of best friend!sukuna & dean’s daughter!yn; there’s a rumour going around—that sukuna can’t get off unless it’s with you. but what else can he do when his best friend is avoiding him except to show up at your door uninvited and convince you that you want him too?

word count. 2.3k ♱ content warnings: female reader, nsfw - mdni, modern college au, best friend!sukuna, dean’s daughter!reader, sukuna’s a tad possessive, creampie, pet names (good girl, princess), fingering, lots of profanity.

“Oh god, Suku—”

Immediately, Sukuna’s eyes shoot up to glare at the poor girl, hips stilling while he quickly grows irate at her voice. His discontent shows through his crimson eyes, leaning down to her ears with a warning, “shut up, or I’ll fucking stop right now.”

Nodding her head, Sukuna shoots her a last warning look before slowly looking away, her half-lidded eyes shutting once more as he starts moving his hips again. Now that she’s shut up, all that can be heard is her bed frame creaking under their weight and the sound of skin slapping skin.

The girl’s slowly losing it, her head stuffed into the pillow because Sukuna can’t stand the sight of her, her ass in the air as he fucks her from behind. It doesn’t matter how fucking hot she is or that she’s the captain of the cheerleading squad. Fuck that because all Sukuna can think about since that moment four days ago is how he really just wants to fuck you.

It’s been a whole four days that he hasn’t seen you—and he’d like to think it’s solely because of your final year project, because it’s normal for you to vanish and cram yourself within books until they’re over, but it’s definitely not normal for you to not even respond to his damn texts.

Countless times he’s asked you where you are, whether you wanted supper, or hell he even dropped his pride and asked you to reply him. You’re driving him up the walls and he can’t take it.

In front of him, the girl—he can’t remember her name for crying out loud—is already creaming around his cock, yet he can’t find the mood to spill inside her or anywhere, really, because it has to be you. You have to reverse this shit.

“Cum inside my mouth?” The girl’s already on her knees, taking Sukuna’s cock around her fingers but he’s already pushing her away, telling her don’t bother before he flings the condom away and wears his hoodie and sweats, retreating from her room.

He gets on his motorbike, and fuck the helmet because he has absolutely no patience for it, sets the GPS to your apartment and revs off.

If you’re going to act like that day never happened, looks like he’s going to have to go to you and find out.

When he gets to your apartment, your roommates let him in without question; well at least that looks like you didn’t say anything that bad about him, if ever. People have long since asked you how you tolerated being friends with him, given his perpetual need for getting into trouble and having you bail him out, but it works. They’re butting in unnecessarily for all he cares.

Sukuna’s been to your apartment more times than he can count. Ever since college started, whenever he didn’t have girls over he’d chosen to relegate to your bedroom and annoy the shit out of you. Still, you’d always let him in, studying or not. Maybe that’s why he’s particularly frustrated now, since you’re shutting him out.

The moment the door swings open, you feel the gush of wind hitting your hair. You’re about to give your housemate a snarky remark about it until you swivel around only to find Sukuna there, sharp eyes glaring at you.

Usually you’d make some joke about how he really shouldn’t do shit like this else people would think you’d have a stalker, but you guess his reaction is somewhat warranted. So maybe you didn’t think things through before fucking your frustrations out on him that day. And maybe you’d been avoiding him more than necessary because as much as you know it should’ve been a one-time mistake, it’s hard not to crave more.

Maybe he’s here for the exact same thing.

In an instant, the door swings shut and Sukuna presses you against the wall, minimal distance between your bodies, his thumb tracing your lower lip and his lashes fluttering against your own.

It’s irritating how just these simple actions can make you all flustered, and even more irritating that you can feel his dick under his sweats. He’s hard, hard as you remember that day, that day you can’t forget about even after trying.

“You busy?” Sukuna asks, as if he hadn’t just seen you working on your project right as he trudged through your door.

But it’s Sukuna. He’s the worst at sane relationships and even worse at communication. Of course, it takes an equally fucked up person to know what he means to ask is are you too fucking busy for me that you won’t respond to my texts or pick up my calls?

“Working on my—”

“Found someone else to fuck?” Sukuna asks, your explanation, or your attempt at one, falling on deaf ears.

Right then, you realise what this is all about, and you remember that this—whatever you and Sukuna are—is nothing more than best friends exploring hidden territory, working out the chinks in this… transaction.

You smirk, tips of your noses touching, his hips subtly grinding against yours. “What? Jealous now?” you tease, your hands moving under his hoodie and onto his skin, Sukuna’s eyes fluttering close as he tightens his jaw, the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to take you right here right now taking over.

Sukuna’s hand finds itself around your neck, gently pushing you further against the wall, his eyes slowly opening, those crimson eyes unyielding when he wants them to be. “Answer me.”

When he hears the no leaving your lips, he ignores the relief he feels, because why should he be? Relieved for what? He throws the fleeting thought of not being able to handle it if you said yes out the window too. You’re just his best friend who he happens to think is hot. That’s all.

“Ahhhh—”

Sukuna smirks when his fingers find your clit under your dress, pleasantly surprised to find you already wet. And god you sound better than all those other girls so he’s not going to shut you up for a while. He keeps his face nuzzled against your own, his hand slipping into your underwear, coating your clit with your own slick as he rubs around it because apparently you moan even more like that—and you moan his name, the reverberations and decibels just right.

“I’m—fuck, I’m busy, Suku—”

“Then tell me you want me to stop,” he challenges you, his middle finger plunging inside your wetness, your mouth falling open helplessly. Sukuna’s already winning, and he knows it, and fuck he wants to savour this moment because being the little fucker you are you might avoid him even more if you feel even shittier after this. The reason escapes him, though, because he knows you want him too.

As you feel your knees growing weak, you abandon all your other thoughts. Fuck it, you’ve been craving this since that day and Sukuna’s offering, why resist? So you quickly yank his hoodie off of him, his sweats and boxers shortly after, your eyes dragging across his body, muscles ripped and tattoos for days. He’s a completely different guy from your ex and maybe that’s why he gets your motors going more. If you were with Sukuna, there’s no way you’d be able to wait.

“Whoa slow down, princess,” he chuckles as you push him down against your bed, but his dick print against his pants says otherwise. Even then, as you hover over him on your knees, your hands teasing at the hem of your dress, Sukuna looks at you shamelessly, his eyes savouring every inch of your body that it can devour. When you take your dress off, achingly slow, he swallows the lump in his throat, your lace black lingerie practically begging to be taken off. “Fucking beautiful.”

You sit on top of him, both of you equally aroused, his cock throbbing against your clothed clit and your hips instinctively grinding against him. His hands grip your waist, pushing you down on him even more.

“Someone’s impatient,” you comment, scrunching your nose, the way he’s struggling to control himself underneath you making you giggle. “Have you only been able to cum by jerking off to me?”

You’re really a piece of work, Sukuna’ll give you that. That smug grin and those perfect tits, you should be illegal. Still, he hooks his index finger around your bra, pulling you down to him so you’re face to face.

“That’s right, still gonna make me wait?” Because you’re right, no matter how much he’d rather you weren’t. Jerking off in his room remembering what you looked like writhing under him isn’t the worst, so he’ll admit it.

Just like that, a simple little admittance and you’re already a little stunned, and Sukuna’s a little too frustrated—from both his earlier tryst and the four days of waiting—to wait anymore. Taking advantage of your slight falter, he pushes your underwear to the side, pushing slowly inside you—just because he likes to see your face when he does.

“T-too big—” you squeeze your eyes shut, his cock threatening to split you open.

Sukuna pulls your hair to one side, tucking a lock behind your ear, gentle fingers pulling your cheeks down for a quick peck on the forehead. “Then I guess we’d better make you get used to it, huh?”

You let the uncharacteristically tender kiss fly over your head, too consumed by the pleasure to fully comprehend anything. By the time he’s fully inside you, all you hear is his hushed whispers of good girl and then move. Last you remember, you’d intended to make him beg for it but somehow you’re already listening to him, your hips moving and chasing that same pleasure Sukuna’s looking for. His hands move up to undo your clasp, letting your bra fall off your body and onto the floor.

Looking at you like this, underwear pushed to the side, perfect tits bouncing as he fucks you, your pretty face threatening to break apart—Sukuna can’t help but groan because fuck has he said you’re perfect?

Unlike everyone else, with you, he can feel the high coming. When you move like that, when you clench around him so tight, even just by the sound of your saccharine moans; Sukuna’s already so dangerously close. Why is it so easy for you?

“Close already?”

There you go again, you and your teasingly smug voice, though it’s not irritating when it comes from you. No, when it comes from you, it’s sexy.

“All your fucking fault for making me wait so long,” he hisses through broken moans, both of you drowning in each other.

You take the initiative this time, kissing him just to shut him up, though you’re amused by just how much you managed to get under his skin by doing so little. “Mmm, thought it was more fun that way.”

A total lie, but much better than letting him know that you were vexed about any possible feelings that could come in between your friendship. Probably not from Sukuna, you think, because he has a track record for never being compassionate about any human being ever. Sometimes you think he’s the devil incarnate and that you’re lucky enough to be the one exception to his cardinal rule of being an asshole to everyone.

Sukuna grips your ass all of a sudden, squeezing it tight before releasing suddenly and giving it a tight slap, the sting making you squeal. “Do that again and you’ll get to know just how much I want you.”

There’s something in the way he says that that sounds enticing to you. Either that, or it’s the underlying meaning that you’re not all too sure of. Either way, you involuntarily clench around him and he chuckles upon noticing it, your embarrassment overridden by the surge of emotions you feel as he kisses you again, this time softly, although his hips move the opposite, faster and faster as he tells you “cum with me.”

And you do, his fervent thrusts sending you off the edge, his cum shooting inside of you for the third time this week—a record that the both of you intend on breaking somehow because now that you’ve had a real taste of things, it’s growing into an addiction.

“Ah fuck—you’re still so- fucking tight,” he hisses as you try to pull away, his eyes watching intently as his cum trickles down your thighs, an undeniable fact that right now, that’s where he belongs, between your thighs and no one else’s. Somehow, you collapse on top of him, and it’s nothing new by now—but unlike every other girl, he won’t push you away.

Instead, he lets you lay on top of him, hair a mess and matted with sweat, your underwear stained with his cum and your body melting into his own.

“Thought you were busy,” he reminds you, like the piece of shit he is.

You pinch him on the arm, something that you’re very good at because it actually hurts. “And whose fault is it that I got distracted?”

There’s a low rumbling in his chest, amused by your pouting. It’s at least good to know that he hasn’t been the only one frustrated. Judging by how quick you were to give in to him, looks like you were too.

“Hey, get up,” he whispers, smacking your ass.

You pout even more, tilting your head up to look at him. “What?”

“To shower and clean up, idiot,” he tells you, as if you’re stupid for asking.

But again, you know Sukuna better than everyone else, so you ask him again, “you just wanna fool around in the shower, don’t you?”

And judging by the shameless grin on his face, you have your answer.

[smpqueer]

can anyone please make a flag for a term where you like the idea of a conabuse relationship but doesnt want to actually be in one? i would make it myself but im too tired to make flags right now

[saintobio]

HEARTBEAT.

when entering the second trimester of your pregnancy also brings along an increase in sex drive that you never saw coming. and with sylus being the father of your baby, you knew he isn't one to deny you of such pleasures.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. fluff, pwp, established relationship, 18+

♱ tags. baby daddy!sylus, pregnant!reader, profanity, pregnant sex, petnames (darling, honey, baby doll, kitten), daddy kink, breeding kink, spit as lube, biting, mentions of impregnation, creampie

♱ notes. i have many fics lined up for him omg so down bad for this man like there's no saving me T^T reblogs appreciated!

“S-Sylus—!” 

“Did I ask you to stop, kitten?” 

If you weren’t already 4-months pregnant, you knew it best that you would be able to move your body more fluidly on top of his. But carrying his baby had its accompanying struggles too—the first struggle being your belly getting heavier and heavier each day. Your waist also felt more firm than usual. And your breasts, although he loved the sight of their larger size, were often too sore and sensitive to touch. There were problems of heartburn, frequent urination, and constipation, too. And also mood swings, intense cravings, headaches, and back pains. 

But as your body adjusted to his growing baby, Sylus’s most favorite thing in your pregnancy was the fact that his child’s mother had an insatiable increase in libido. It was at a point where you couldn’t control it anymore. Your sex drive just jumped way higher than his, and he had to deal with your constant need for him to release that sexual gratification you had been longing for. Not that he was complaining.

“You’re the one who wanted to ride me, honey.” His teasing continued as he placed an arm behind his head, his back casually leaning against the headboard while you straddled him. He used the other hand to firmly grip your waist, guiding you to grind on him nice and slow. “Tired already?”

“N-No.” You rolled your hips against his to find the rhythm you wanted, but it was getting agonizing how difficult it was to hit your g-spot the way he would if he was the one moving. “Mmh—! Can you… can you move for me?” 

His crimson eyes darkened in amusement. “No can do, baby doll.” 

“Please…” you begged, moaning as you desperately rocked your body against his crotch. You tried lifting yourself up to bounce on his hardened shaft, but that required too much physical exertion on your side. “Aah—ah! I-I can’t do it…” 

Sylus raked his long fingers through his Arctic white hair before he repositioned himself better, almost sitting up as he secured both hands on your hips. “You’ve been treating me like a dildo for a week,” he quipped, laughing at his own words while your cheeks were heating up from embarrassment. “Now, you’re too lazy to move on your own?”

Your desperation got the best of you when you pulled his hair and glared at him. “I would if my belly wasn’t so heavy!” 

Yet, your dominating presence only ignited his teasing even more. “Actions have consequences, sweetie. Always begging to have me cum inside you resulted in that baby,” he said with a roguish grin, brushing his lips against your shoulder before biting on the soft skin. “I don’t mind it, though. At least, there’s something that ties us both forever now.” 

“Y-You talk too much,” you retorted, growing more and more impatient with the way you were moving your hips in circles. You could feel your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth, but you knew you still weren’t deep enough to feel the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. He had to do something. Something. Some… thing! “Ngh! Sy… please. I want you. Now.” 

“Throwing tantrums, aren’t we?” His deep chuckle resonated in your ears before he finally gave in, squeezing your sore tits with his large, manly hands, and playing with your nipple with the movements of his tongue. You whimpered from his touch, but allowed yourself to lean further into him, your back arching as he held your body in his arms. With his mouth now sucking one tit, he kneaded the other and gave it the same attention while you were a moaning mess on top of him. 

“Sylus.” 

He released your tit from his mouth, his saliva coating your breast as his carmine eyes looked up at you with a wanton gaze. “Yes, honey?” 

“Fuck me already…” you pleaded with desperate eyes, feeling the surge of hormonal tears beginning to pool in them. “Why do you keep tormenting me like this? D-Do you hate me? Do y-you not want me anymore?” 

The man closed his eyes for a moment, his chest vibrating with deep laughter that echoed through the walls of his dimly-lit bedroom. But he had been here before. He knew how to deal with you when your hormones were about to fully take over, so right as you were going to pull yourself away from him, he had already caged you in his arms, flipping you over in a position where he was the one in control now. 

“Such a spoiled little kitty you are,” he mumbled with a scoff, lying you carefully on your back and spreading your legs open so he could have access to your entrance. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as Sylus looked down at you with a lustful stare, like a predator about to devour his prey, before he leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours. You two were already too familiar with the movements of each other’s mouths, already in perfect sync with the way you would roll your tongue around his. His tongue loved to explore your mouth roughly, biting your lower lip in between as he deepened the kiss. 

It was deep enough that you had to place your weak hands against his toned chest, slightly pushing him off to catch your breath. “Haah… Can’t breathe.” 

Sylus smiled at your weakened state and took it as an opportunity to pull away and stroke his entire length. He ejected spit from his mouth and used it to rub his cock, coating every inch before teasing your entrance with his swollen pink tip. Insane. It was driving you insane. You could hear the squelching sound on your slit as he slid his member in between your labia, making you clench your insides in desperation to have him. “What’s the magic word?” he playfully asked while slapping your pussy with his thick, veiny cock. “Hm?”

“Please…” 

“Wrong. Try again.” 

“Please, daddy?” 

A loud, breathy whimper then escaped your lips as he suddenly buried his entire length in a forceful thrust. Your walls tightened around his cock as he began jolting his hips forward, plowing his member in and out of your sopping cunt just as you had been asking for. He watched with titillating eyes how your breasts jiggled with every thrust, and went absolutely crazy when you reached for his hand and started sucking on his fingers.

“Hah—haaah! Mm… D-Daddy—!” 

He clearly enjoyed the image of ecstasy on your face, so he stimulated you further by rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Good, kitten. Cum for daddy.” 

With your thighs held on both sides by him, you placed a hand on your belly and the other gripping the sheets as he continued to ram his member inside your pussy at an animalistic speed. All sorts of noise were ricocheting across the room; the skin-slapping, the squelch, the moans and whimpers, the bed squeaks. 

“H-Harder, daddy. Please—!”

“You like daddy’s cock?”

“Mmh. Yes! Can’t… get… enough.”

Sylus planted a tender kiss on your thigh, still chasing his own seventh heaven by abusing your tight cunt with his monstrous size. The moment he felt your legs shaking, he knew he succeeded. You were already at the brink of losing your sanity, your mind breaking as you raised your hips so he could fuck you harder and faster.

“You really like it hard and fast, baby doll,” he muttered in a raspy voice, never once stopping from his merciless thrust inside you. This man. This sexy bastard right here was the father of your child. And goddamn was he the hottest man you had ever seen in your life.   

“Sy, I-I’m g-gonna—!” You held back a moan, but couldn’t contain it the moment the tip of his cock started hitting that sensitive spot inside you. One time, two times, three times. On the third thrust, you could feel a familiar coil on your lower abdomen, like your insides were being twisted painfully good. And before you knew it, your body was already twitching. Your legs were uncontrollably shaking. Your breath, unstable. You couldn’t open your eyes because you were too absorbed by your orgasm, not realizing that Sylus’s own guttural moans were a sign of his own climax, too. 

As he let out a deep grunt, you could feel spurts of seed filling your core. It even seeped out as he pulled out, watching his own cum dripping down your pussy. “You look beautiful, honey.” 

You were way too sore to move. The sudden decrease in energy left you frozen in bed, leaving it to Sylus to do all the post-sex cleaning and wiping. The room itself smelled of sex, your scents mixing together to make an intoxicating smell. You didn’t even notice he’d brought you a glass of water by the time you opened your eyes again, your breath now more stable as he slipped into bed next to you. 

“Thank you, my love,” you said, returning the glass of water and pulling the duvet to cover your body. “Cuddle with me, please?” 

“Anything for my darling.” After placing the glass on the nightstand, he turned to you and held you in his arms, letting you trace his rock-hard abs with your shaky fingers. “How do you feel? Satisfied?”

You gave him a sheepish grin before nuzzling your nose into his neck. His scent could surely get you drunk if you continued to sniff him. “For now.” 

Chuckling lightly, he rubbed your back with a tender hand. “Any late-night cravings? Fruits? PB&J?” 

“You are,” was your playful reply, “my only craving for tonight.” 

The proud grin on Sylus’s face couldn’t be easily erased. “You hear that, son?” he suddenly said, moving his hand to rub your belly. “It’s getting hard to ‘match mommy’s freak’ nowadays.” 

You laughed at his unusual yet familiar choice of words. “First of all, where did you learn that line?” you asked, propping an elbow to look at his handsome face. “Secondly, how are you sure it’s a baby boy?” 

“I just know.” He simply shrugged, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. He then lifted your chin with his fingers, then placed a soft kiss on your lips. “They say doggy gets you a boy.” 

Two wide eyes stared at his crimson ones. “I knew it!” you exclaimed, pinching his nose. “I knew you were trying to get me pregnant that night.” 

He tried to hide his smile by moving his head towards your bump, planting a gentle kiss on your belly before pressing his ear against it. “You act like you didn’t beg me to knock you up,” he countered with a challenging smirk, “Can you handle having a mini-me pestering you every single day, kitten?” 

Instead of teasing him back, your heart melted at the thought of having your own little Sylus running around the house. No doubt your baby would inherit his father’s mischievous nature and be endlessly spoiled by his uncles, Luke and Kieran. You could imagine your child would have his dad’s hair, eyes, and nose. “My baby!” you swooned, caressing your belly and hoping he could feel your motherly touch. “I can’t wait to meet you soon.”

“I’m really going to be a dad, huh?” Sylus’s loving gaze made your heart swell inside. “I’d destroy the world for you two.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and shook your head with a smile. “Yeah, I know you will.”

[tonixe]

♱♱♱ "Beginning and the end" ♱♱♱

n.o.t.e.s - MUZAN LOOKS SO GOOD WHEN HE'S DERANGED, LIKE SLUT ME OUT!??!

w.a.r.n - smut, p in the v, creampie, raw dogging, unprotected intercourse.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Muzan x fem!reader

w.c. - 1.18k

The rain droplets over the roof. A storm was occurring; you sat beside Muzan in his sickly form. Dipping down a small towel in cold water and putting it on his forehead as you sat near him.

You were his fiancé to be soon married by him, but it couldn't be due to the state of his body. Your eyes couldn't help but produce tears from your eye, dripping down to your lap, as you stared at his miserable form. Feeling a cold hand brushing your cheek, "I hate it when you cry" Muzan muttered, you held his hand to your cheek as you tried to smile, but your lips faltered.

"I-i know," you whispered, looking at him, tears threatening to fall out, as you breathed in. "Just why do they have to be so cruel" your lips trembled, "Just why" you cried.

You took Muzan's hand off your cheek and gently placed it near the sides of his body. You looked at his him again, he was soon passed out, before you looked at the door opening up to one of the doctors assigned to Muzan.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. L/N," he said to you slightly bowing down to you, as you got up dusting off your kimono, you tilted your head at him and walked out of the room. Stepping down on the tatami floor, going outside, as the feeling of the cold dropping rain on your skin, staining your kimono, as you stepped backward underneath the roof.

Sitting down on the leveled floor, you back leaned on the pillar as you stared at the abyss of the sky. Your eyes soon closed as you slipped into slumber.

Before heard a loud thud on the ground, fully waking you as you ran almost tripping on the wet floor, as you quickly opened the door to Muzan's room, looking at him covered in blood standing for what you thought was the first time, his hand holding a butcher knife to the doctor head, that laid there collecting a pool of blood.

"M-muzan, what did you do" you whispered, covering your mouth in horror.

His mouth was still stained with a bright blue pigment on his lips, as he stood his ground without any help or distance at all. His pupil was formed like a cat and the color of crimson.

You stood there in silence before he dashed straight out you covering your mouth, as your eyes only stare at him with fear. You didn't know who he was anymore.

He looked at you straight through the eyes, your heavy breathing, making your heart pump faster. You looked at his nail that grew sharper than any sword you have seen before.

He soon took his hands off your mouth, cupping your cheeks, while tears threatened to slip out of your eyes, as you stared at him. Someone that once your lover, turns into a deranged animal right in front of you. You opened your mouth to say his name but were soon entrapped into a kiss with him.

Your pupils shake, from the sudden intimacy. Before closing your eyes leaning into the kiss.

Before he withdrew from our lips, staring into your own, as you looked at him bewildered by his appearance, "My precious, Y/N" He brushes your cheek, and his fingers brushed your lips.

"I'm no longer someone weak, not anymore" he whispered to you.

"M-muzan....you just murdered someone" You took his hand away from your face, as you backed away from his figure.

"Y/N, he was just a lowly doctor, who could do nothing but to bickered and give me nonsense creations of his medicine" he exclaimed, extending his hand to you.

You backed away more when he took a step away, your body melting with fear. "You're not someone who I used to love, your monster" you screamed out before dashing towards the door, before you could, muzan was right there.

His body leaning towards you, "Y/N, don't be like that" he spat, as he soon got annoyed by how you were acting.

"Get away from me" you lashed out.

You were too slow for a man not to catch up with you with his newfound abilities. He grabbed you, hid nails digging into you, as you winced in pain. "There is nothing to be afraid of," he said, trying to comfort you but you flinched away from his touch.

His eyebrows twitched, as he soon threw you down to the floor, and you yelped in pain.

You crawled away from him before getting pulled, his shadow creeping into yours. He kneels towards you. Before he looked at your figure on the ground as pieces of your kimono were off of your body, exposing your undergarments, "Muzan, please" you cried.

"Be gentle" you said.

His nails cut the thin pieces of fabric off your body, leaving your body bare. His eyes are hungrily staring at your naked body.

"Muzan, please promise me...if we do this, you'll stay with me " you begged, your lips trembling, you clasped his hand with your yours.

"From the beginning and end, my dear" he answered you with a kiss. He gently pried your legs open, his body between yours.

You closed your eyes, feeling his member sinking into your wall. As you registered the pain. You winced. His pace picked up, as he trusted you.

Every time he dragged himself out of you, plunging himself into you, you moaned in pain. Covering your hands to your eyes. His tempo frantic plunging into you, your body jolting from the tempo.

The pain simmering into pleasure, as he slides into you. As he held it down to your waist gripping it, his nail digging into drawing out blood.

"Shit" he groaned, as his animalistic thrust goes into you, pounding right into you. Your arms holding onto him, as he bit your collarbone, littering your body with love bites, the taste of blood going into his senses.

As his animalistic urges grew.

He dragged himself in and out of you repeatedly his pelvis brushed onto your own, and you moaned out. You felt a warm feeling growing in you, as you felt the core snap. A blow of heat washing through your body.

Your juices coating his dick, his thrust going in faster into you. Your breast jolts in the temp, bouncing with him.

The simple pleasure of making you hooked, feeling himself plunging himself into you. The room makes your body feel hot. You cocked your head away, releasing your arm from the grip.

His pace soon slowed down, and as his thrusts gets sloppier. His nail in denying further into your skin. Soon pouring himself into you, coating your walls white.

He groaned, his body leaning forward. Bruising your hip even more. You looked at his form through the tears on your thick lashes.

You're heavily breathing being heard, as you covered your sweating face.

Before he pulled out of your tired figure, you stare at him with sleepy eyes, "You did well, Y/N" he said, brushing the excess hair off of your forehead.

[nosyrobin]

DARK AGES

★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱ BATFAMILY X VAMPIRE!READER

Summary: a dark shadowy figure runs around Gotham. But as the bat and birds try to figure out who they are, they don’t even know themselves.

Lights flicker around a dark figure, blood stains stained the carpet floor of two lovers who met their demise not too long ago. The dark figure wore black converses that were now bloodied, a black jacket and black denim jeans. The hood covered their entire face, only darkness was their face. It was clear they mostly wore black to hide the crimson blood. But the stench of fresh and old blood hung weary in the air. The figure disappeared into the shadows as their footsteps were heard on the creaky and wooden floors.

As they go to exit through the front door, something was thrown at them. They effortlessly dodged in a swift move. There was a boy who held ninja stars in between his fingers and a mean scowl amongst the tan face of his. The figure started to bounce against the walls, the new boy wonder tensed as it was like watching the exorcist. The way the person bounced against the walls his skin crawls oddly. Robin threw another round of ninja stars about bouncing against the walls along with you.

Dancing, that’s what it felt like between the figures. The figure clawed onto the wall. Their sharp nails pierced the wall before moving one leg quickly. Kicking the oncoming boy who went head first at them. Robin got up quickly, unsheathed his katana. With a warrior roar, he slashed down at the dark shadow. The shadow dodged each slash, grabbing the katana and pulling it towards them. Robin’s eyes widened he felt a fist connect to his throat. He dropped to his knees. Clutching his attacked throat. He tried to shake off the burning and painful sensation of that punch. But it was too strong.

And the figure was already gone.

The figure leaped against building to building. They already sensed four other people chasing them. One was certainly close behind, seeing blue and black on them as they flipped across roofs. Nightwing flipped in front of the running shadow, but the figure already turned around to only to be met with a person with a red helmet and gun.

“Surrender, and maybe I won’t put a bullet in you kid..” the low voice said as the figure stood still. Making it seem they were going to surrender as Nightwing walks up cautiously to apprehend the suspicious person. Before Nightwing can even touch them, the figure elbowed the vigilante in the rib. Nightwing groaned as the shadow grabbed the hero’s arm, pulling and pushing them in front of them. Red hood pointed his gun at the shadow, ready to take it down before he paused. He paused at the scene he was seeing as red glowing eyes emitted from the darkness within their hood. A chilling atmosphere arose the moment as Nightwing hissed at the pressure point in his arm getting pressed on. Nightwing was on his knees with the figure’s sharp nails against his neck.

Definitely a hostage situation, red hood slowly pressed a button on his helmet to alert the big bat about the situation that came too quick for him to progress. But before he can speak to the big man, the figure got impatient. Lifting up the adult man they held hostage and throwing him like a rag doll. Redhood fell to the ground with Nightwing on him, redhood pushed the man off him. Ready to shoot the bastard that dare throw his partner of this mission at him.

But of course the figure was gone without a trace.

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆DOLL SMITTEN

SYPNOSIS:: In which, Suguru Geto can’t bear to let you go and was unable to accept your death, so he made a doll version of you instead.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Dark themes, Disturbing things, Unhealthy Obsession, Gore, Suguru is a total creep. Suggestive Themes. Angst.

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

━━━━𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃

━━━━𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐎𝐍 assaulting suguru’s mind.

The memories of your body, laying before him like a macabre painting—your skin an eerie shade of pallid, with rivers of crimson flowing freely, pooling and congealing in the crevices of the floor, your left arm was severed and lying at an unnatural angle, the bones protruding like twisted branches.

“Suguru”

“Suguru.”

“Suguru!”

Suguru was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard satoru’s voice calling him.

“You’ve been spacing out again...” Satoru sighed, watching as the black haired male clutched the doll that you had given him tightly to his heaving chest.

“M’ alright... don’t worry ‘bout me...” Suguru muttered, staring at the doll.

He missed you so much.

So, so much.

He misses you so much to the point that he even started wearing the cringeworthy clothes that you had gifted him during your anniversary — a shirt that has your face on it.

It was so embarrassing but..

No matter the humiliation, he couldn’t bring himself to remove it.

The fabric was already damp with his tears, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

It just hurt so goddamn much. 

He didn’t even flinch as satoru gently placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. Satoru too looked down though , his face drawn in shared sorrow.

“Seriously... I’m worried about you, man.”

“You look like you’re about to have another breakdown...” Satoru mumbled hesitantly, fumbling for the right words.

“She wouldn’t want to see you broken...” Satoru said softly.

“She would’ve wanted you to live on.” Satoru added, hating the weak consolation but unable to think of anything better.

“and move on.”

 Suguru just scoffed bitterly, before forcing a smile.

“No.. She wouldn’t want that...” he said through clenched teeth, tracing the outline of the small doll, his finger lingering on the embroidered smile that you sewn so long ago.

“What do you mean?” Satoru asked gently, already dreading the answer. 

“I mean...” suguru trailed off shakily, shoulders sinking further as he smiled a smile that didn’t reach his  eyes.

 “She wouldn’t want me to move on...”

Suguru stared at Satoru intently.

“Satoru.”

Those bottomless onyx eyes bored into his own, searching, probing.

“Tell me something,” Suguru muttered, so low Satoru had to strain to hear it.

“Where did they take her body?”

The question caught Satoru off guard. His mind raced as he tried to understand Suguru’s motives. Was he paranoid they’d desecrate your urcorpse? Or was there something more sinister at play? He hesitated to answer.

“They took her to Shoko,” he said stiffly and hwsitantly.

“With Shoko, huh?” Suguru finally replied, his tone as sharp and bitter as a winter wind.

They sat in loaded silence, the air thick with tension.

Satoru searched Suguru’s face for any clue to his churning thoughts, but found only an impenetrable void. 

After what felt like an eternity, Suguru spoke again, his soft whisper slicing through the tension like a blade.

“Satoru..”

His silky black hair had grown shaggy and untamed during his days of isolation, falling over his pale face like a veil as his head sagged downwards.

Through the parted strands, Satoru could see the gaunt hollows of Suguru’s cheeks and the dark circles under his reddened eyes — evidence of sleepless nights spent weeping and longing for the woman he had lost. 

“Do something for me,” Suguru’s quiet voice cracked as he spoke, barely above a hoarse whisper.

With apprehension clawing at his insides, Satoru nodded slowly. “Yes...?”

Satoru braced himself, unsure of what request could suguru probably ask.

“Can you... Help me.. sew a lifelike doll in her image.. One with her face, her hair, her body...” Suguru continued, his hands trembling as they tightened around the doll.

“And get her body too... get to hug it before shoko.. do her thing.”

“I just want to hold her corpse, to feel like she’s still here with me.” 

“...Suguru, what the fuck?”

Suguru’s dark eyes burned into Satoru’s soul as he contemplated the request to retrieve your corpse. Satoru’s chest rose and fell rapidly with each panicked breath.

“Get her body? Turn her into a doll?” satoru rasped, disbelief thick in his tone.  

Satoru saw the desperation swimming in Suguru’s gaze and felt ashamed for entertaining such a twisted idea, even for a moment.

He swallowed hard.

He couldn’t just let that happen..

“Please, Satoru...”

Satoru winced upon hearing the small crack in suguru’s voice.

He really just can’t let that happen!!

But... He also wants suguru to be happy.

He drew a steadying breath, loathing the decision he felt compelled to make yet powerless to refuse his friend in such a state of despairing need. Slowly, hesitantly, he spoke.

“You do know that...she wasn’t killed with cursed energy, right?”

“[Name] can become a cursed spirit if we don’t get rid of her body. You know that she died with hatred.. for them.. right?”

The words struck Suguru like knives in his heart. Blood pounded in his ears, vision swimming, as realization dawned with dreadful, delicious clarity

It’s true.. you could become a cursed spirit... And.. and that’s a good thing.

That’s a good thing, right?

He doesn’t even need to worry because he has cursed spirit manipulation... And could tame you if that ever happens...

And then the two of you would live together again... You can be in his arms again.

“I’m sure...”

━━━━𝐖𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

Nanako and Mimiko sat like statues, feeling awkward.

The moment that they saw the human flesh on the doll, they ended up zipping it back up and scramming away from suguru’s room — they made sure to lock it first, ofcourse, as they don’t want suguru to find out about their snooping around.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Suguru questioned softly as he lifted his teacup to his lips and took a slow, measured sip, savoring the bitter warmth as it flowed down his throat. He then set the porcelain down back to its saucer with a faint clink and leaned back with a casual grace that bordered on obnoxious, his knees spread wide, elbows resting on his thighs, and head supported by his intertwined fingers.

“You two look like you’ve seen a ghost, is somethin’ wrong?”

Suguru noted, his tone gentle but probing. Propping his elbows upon his thighs, he cradled his face in long-fingered hands and tilted his head inquisitively.

Nanako shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, fingers twisting together anxiously in her lap, looking at Mimiko but the brown haired girl couldn’t bring herself to meet suguru’s gaze either — instead, she was staring fixedly at the pattern on the carpet.

“Master Geto... Uh.. well..” Nanako trailed off awkwardly before she decided that it’s better to keep silent than tell Suguru about the snooping that they’ve done.

“Well?”

Nanako grasped for her phone as a means to avoid further questions. She scrolled methodically through meaningless updates and messages, clinging to the false sense of occupation as an uncomfortable hush fell over the room. 

“Well? spill it. What’s got you both so spooked?” Suguru prodded, leaning in slightly.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really...” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant as she busied herself with her phone, avoiding his piercing gaze.

Suguru, sensing her unease, narrowed his eyes.

“Come now, don’t clam up on me now. I can tell something’s off,” he prodded gently, concern softening his features.

“It’s nothing, really. Just boy problems,” Nanako said, her words rushing out almost faster than she could catch them.

Suguru raised an eyebrow at her response before settling back in his chair, his mind already conjuring up overprotective scenarios.

By boy problem...

Did they mean—

“Don’t tell me that you two are sleeping around with some boys?” 

“NO!” Nanako replied and suguru sighed in relief.

“Just... Girl things..” Nanako muttered, as she looked away.

“Oh. I see…” he murmured, though the thought of his girls having boyfriends made him uncomfortable. Despite his protective instincts, he knew he couldn’t stand in the way of their happiness. It’s not like he can deprave them of that, he wants them to be happy after all.

Turning to Mimiko, Suguru inquired,

“And Mimiko?”

The brown-haired girl shifted nervously, her fingers anxiously twirling her doll's hair as she avoided his gaze.

“How was the meeting?” Mimiko asked, trying to change the topic.

“Good. How are you?” Suguru replied with a warm smile, trying to coax her out of her shell. Mimiko bit her tongue, not knowing what to say.

“Good too,” she finally managed to murmur.

Sensing their discomfort, Suguru could tell something was amiss.

“Why the long faces, girls? Don’t tell me you’re hiding something from me now now, hm?”

Nanako and Mimiko exchanged guilty glances, both trying to find the right words to explain their unease.

“It’s just that...we realized we missed you while you were out. That’s why...why we seem a bit...down,” Nanako stammered lamely, not knowing what to say.

“Y-yeah, what she said,” Mimiko chimed in, finishing her sister’s sentence with a sheepish grin.

“I doubt it,” Suguru chuckled, taking a slow sip of his tea as he observed the two girls sitting across from him.

Their uneasy glances and sudden topic changes couldn’t go unnoticed after all, and suguru knew whenever they were lying.

It was as if they were tiptoeing around some hidden truth, and Suguru found their behavior quite amusing, and suspicious.

Just as he was about to press further, Nanako’s voice broke the silence.

She locked eyes with Suguru, her demeanor shifting between nervousness and curiosity.

“Master Geto... Be honest,” Nanako started cautiously.

Suguru raised an eyebrow in response.

“Yes?” he prompted, his curiosity piqued by Nanako’s hesitant tone.

Nanako hesitated, trying to find the right balance between subtle inquiry and blatant prying. Finally, she decided on a more indirect approach, leaning in slightly as she carefully framed her question.

“Did you... uhh... used to have a girlfriend?” Nanako finally blurted out, her eyes searching Suguru’s face for any reaction.

Suguru’s smile didn't falter as he responded, his tone light yet firm.

“Why are you bringing this up again? I’ve told you before — no girlfriend now, no girlfriend before.”

Nanako couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling. If Suguru was telling the truth, then who was that girl in all those photos? And what was the deal with the eerily realistic life-sized doll she had seen in his room... Not to mention, the human flesh in them??

It’s not like they cared about the human flesh anyways, because suguru has done more fucked up things than that — he literally committed mass genocide and other heinous crimes!! This shouldn’t be so surprising.

But still...

It felt so strange...

“Flings?” Mimiko asked.

Suguru simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“None either,”

Suguru replied, his lips curling into a half-smile. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes betrayed a hint of confusion.

The two girls seemed interested in prying into his nonexistent love life, which, in his case, was quite literal... non-existent, since his everything, his betrothed, his soul, was already non-existent indeed. He had come to terms with it, of course, but he still doesn’t wanna let go.

“Girl friends? As in girl friends, I mean. A female friend,” Nanako clarified.

“Like a really close female friend,” Mimiko added.

“That’d be Ieiri,” Suguru replied, a fond smile playing on his lips as he mentioned her name. 

Mimiko and Nanako exchanged puzzled looks, seemingly trying to connect the dots. Was Ieiri the mysterious girl they had seen on the pictures then?

“Do you really wanna know?” Suguru’s voice was tinged with a mix of amusement and curiosity as he leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers and tilting his head to the side. His deep obsidian eyes gazing off into the distance.

“I used to have a fiancée,” Suguru dropped the bombshell casually, and Mimiko and Nanako’s eyes bulged in disbelief. Fiancée? This was news to them. Was she the mysterious woman in the photos, the one who seemed to inspire the lifelike doll of Suguru?

“A monkey killed her, if you can believe it,” Suguru stated with a hint of disgust.

“We were childhood sweethearts.” He sighed, a mixture of sorrow and bitterness evident in his expression.

“But she’s gone now,” Suguru continued, a hint of melancholy in his voice as he clenched his jaw ever so slightly.

Nanako and Mimiko were struck silent. So she was actually dead...?

Their frowns deepened as a twinge of guilt began to seep in.

Had the life-sized doll been Suguru’s way of coping all along? And to think they had once been repulsed by it... It was making them feel guilty.

The realization weighed heavily on them. They had no idea that Suguru had a fiancée, and now they felt genuinely remorseful. 

“She would’ve adored you both... especially since she was such a girl’s girl.”

“You know, I’d do just about anything for her,” Suguru said with a lovesick sigh, sinking down into the couch and gazing off into the distance with dreamy eyes.

“I would walk across hot coals barefoot if she asked... I’d kill for her..”

“I love everything about her... First of all, i love her eyes, second, her smile, third, her hair, fourth, her face, fifth, her personality, sixth, her confidence, seventh her wit, eight, her intelligence...

Suguru sighed blissfully as he began to ramble on.

Nanako and Mimiko exchanged a horrified glance as Suguru enthusiastically rambled on about all the strange quirks he adored in his late fiancée.

It was utterly bizarre to witness how utterly and completely captivated he seemed by a woman who was no longer among the living.

His enthusiasm for his deceased fiancée was bordering on the absurd — it was as if he was carrying on a love affair with a ghost...

“—Ninety-fourth, her kindness,” Suguru counted off on his fingers dreamily.

“Ninety-fifth, her passion for—” He paused, just now seeming to notice that mimiko and nanako was gawking at him.

“...Why are you looking at me like that...?”

“A man’s allowed to worship his queen.” He cleared his throat.

He was just getting warmed up, ready to pour his heart out about his undying love for [Name], when mimiko interrupted his soliloquy.

“Master Geto... how... how did she die?” mimiko asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nanako shot her a disapproving look, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Suguru’s face suddenly fell.

“Don’t you think that’s an invasive question—” Nanako began, her words trailing off as she glanced nervously at Suguru, fearing his reaction.

Suguru was stagnant, scarily stagnant before he finally spoke after some moments 

“it’s fine...”

Suguru’s fingers twisted in his long, ebony hair as he stared into the distance, his expression distant and troubled. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s just say it was brutal,”

“Through Evisceration and Mutilation.”

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 || 𝐍𝐄����𝐓

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: Faster Updates and longer chapters here!

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠♡ 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞<𝟑

𝐀/𝐍: this one is unedited and not proof read and is a mix of the other chapters on doll smitten on wp:)

Also, this is out of topic but i’d really appreciate it if you all read this and this, and spread awareness of what's currently happening on my country:) because we're currently in danger and in near in declaring war against china.

[ectologia]

I don't know how to explain this but bear with me! Reader and Tomura have a dynamic of a popular girl who is secretly a total masochist and a nerdy incel guy who is a degenerate freak and gets off humiliating and degrading the reader. Not sure if that was coherent but it's been rotting my brain and I needed to share

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒟𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒪𝒯𝒪𝑀𝒴 ؛ 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓀𝒾

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ quirkless au ﾉ college au ﾉ bullying ﾉ abuse ﾉ graphic violence ﾉ unhealthy relationship ﾉ blood ﾉ profanity

“Hey, Tomura.”

Blood-reds peer up at you through fluttery, moth-like lashes. Pale and silken like an angel’s. He tugs his headphones down to rest around his neck before setting his phone in his lap. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” You thumb a lock of hair behind your ear.

He’s dubious by the way your friends chitter behind you. Petite hands and manicured nails swat at each-other, hissing between smirks. His ankles uncross, planting themselves firmly on the ground as though in preparation. He winces through his response. “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with your skin?”

You’ve barely finished your sentence before you’re doubling over with witchy cackles, the girls behind you following suite.

Tomura doesn’t find it funny at all, in-fact, he doesn’t even understand the joke. Dull nails rake at his protruding collarbone before sinking further into the pool of his hoodie, swimming nose deep in the black fabric. “I have a skin condition..”

A piggish voice squeals from behind you. “What’s it called? Not washing?”

He scowls, biting a scabbed-over chunk of blood from his lip, shrinking further into his hunched position in an attempt to make himself as small as possible, or as small as you can be after being picked apart by a bunch of snot-nosed bitches.

You get the last laugh as you strut off with your group, leaving him boiling with rage. Clutching his phone between a set of white knuckles and wringing the strap of his bag in the other. His palms split inside his fists, wretched and shaking with ire.

Of course, that was only the first of many instances.

He remembers on another account, when you’d pulled his hood down in-front of everyone and sneered in disgust at the powdered nest of matted white hidden beneath. Or when you and your gaggle of other titless twats thought it would be fun to fling food at him during lunch, sealing the deal by dumping a fresh load of apple juice into his lap. He’d waddled home that evening, quivering at the sticky feeling of liquid squelching in the pocket of his underwear. Or another time, when you’d tripped him up on the way to his seat, howling with laughter along with everybody else as he laid face down in the middle of the classroom, snivelling with a scuffed chin and bruised cheek.

But, despite everything.. all these things added up — just makes it that much more delicious when he finally gets to face you alone.

Tomura’s palm collides with your face, once on the left side and then on the right, knocking you about with a heavy hand bludgeoning you to the brink of death.

Your whimpers only spur him on as he kicks your heels in, sending you flying, knees splitting atop the sharp gravel coating the ground. “Tomu—”

“Shut the fuck up.” A rubber sole plants itself onto your cheek, imprinting it’s swirled pattern into your skin in a heap of dust. He stands above you, stoic and proud, uncaring of the sickening crunch that erupts from your broken cartilage. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth, I can’t be asked to listen to your whinin’ right now. I’ve already got a fuckin’ headache.”

You heave through the stream of bubbling crimson pooling on your tongue. “I’m sorry, Tomur—”

“Oi, what’d I just say?” He kicks you again, digging the tip of his red sneakers into your stomach. Swinging his leg back, he clobbers you, battering your, no doubt, already bruised body further. “Stupid — fucking — dumb — ass — bitch.”

A spill of blood accompanies your gasps, left retching and writhing and clutching at the ground, clawing at the loose stones dotted about the pavement.

“You like that, huh?” He crushes your fingers, twisting and grating them into the concrete as you scream, clinging to his shins in prayer. “Yeah, you do. You fuckin’ love it.”

He squats down to cradle your chin in his palm, craning your neck back into a painful arch. “Who’s my little bitch? — That’s right you are.” He coos at you through grit-teeth, pressing down on your popped lip with the pad of his thumb. “You are..” He whispers before letting the weight of your head fall again.

“I hope you’re thirsty.”

The zip of a fly has your ears perking, squinting through your lashes at the pale length throbbing in his palm, slit already frothing with pre. “Get that fucking tongue out.”

“Wait, Tomura, please!—”

“What? — I don’t think I asked you, you cock-sucking little bitch.” He brandishes his cock like a weapon, squeezing it between dangerous fingers. “Get that tongue out now, before I do it myself.”

You comply with a whimper. Statuesque as you point your tongue out wide, leaking thick globs of drool over your chin and onto your shirt.

“Better.”

It wouldn’t be uncommon to expect the plush velvety feel of a salty tip prodding at your mouth, snaking its sweaty shaft down your gullet. But this time, you’ve been particularly naughty.

“You think it’s fuckin’ funny, huh? Gettin’ your little boyfriends to jump me in the bathroom?” He clutches your neck in a vice grip, jostling your spooked form. “Well, since you seem to like playin’ around toilets so much — I’ve got you a little gift.”

His fat dick jumps while a stream of urine accompanies his harsh jerking. “Yeah, get it down ya’.” He whistles, shooting the acidic stream of piss straight to the back of your throat, making a game of it as you gag and cack at the air.

“Had enough?” He angles his cock down, allowing you a burst of air but soiling your clothes in the process.

You nod frantically, gurgling with bubbles foaming.

“That’s cute.”

He sprays the last few acrid droplets over your forehead, letting it drench your hair to the root and then some.

Your nose wrinkles at the smell, putrid and pungent and most likely undiluted by the amount of water you know he drinks, or lack of.

You’re hoisted onto your feet by a pair of hands. Looking down, you see how the curve of his cock slaps against your hip. Propped up against the wall, he hikes your legs up over his elbows, pinning you into a tight hold where you’d have no chance at escape. He only peels the crotch of your underwear to the side, letting your chubby folds do the rest of the work by holding it in place while sliding his uncut prick up and down the little triangle placed between your thighs.

“Preparation isn’t needed when you don’t deserve it”, Is what he whispers into your ear, stale breath warm and ticklish against your canal as he begins to sheath himself inside, chunky mushroom tip popping through the first ring of muscle before feeding the rest through. It’s akin to being impaled in the awkward position, sat without a centre of gravity on a hot, girthy pole, just twitching to tear you through the middle and come out the other end.

Tomura’s eager to hurt you, already humping you against the bricks, bouncing you up and down with guttural and down-right animalistic grunts. The noises are purposeful, he doesn’t need to make such strange sounds but he much prefers the curl between your brows to the foggy look in your eyes.

“I’m fuckin’ you.” It’s an odd but factual statement. “I’m fuckin’ your pussy. My dick is inside you. You get that? Raw.”

“Uh, huh.” Your jaw whips up and down, soft as your tongue hangs out.

He’s unsure whether to scowl or smirk — so he settles for a bit of both, catching a lip between his stained teeth. “You’re a freak.“ Forehead to forehead, he puffs into your mouth, loving you down with a thumb digging into your crack “What would all your friends say, hm? That you like gettin’ your ass beat and raped after school everyday.”

Sharpened fingernails dig into the flesh of his striped neck, crying out with dewy eyes falling, rolling behind sunken eyelids. “Ngh.. I’m.. I — gonna’..”

He smacks your face for the umpteenth time, a litter lighter than the others. Perhaps even a tap. “Don’t you dare.”

“Ca..”

Your toes curl inside your socks and your pussy tightens, twisting and pulling on his engorged manhood despite his obvious protests. He drops you on your rear, startling your spinal cord as you hit the concrete with a thud, legs still shivering and clitty still pulsing with the shattered remains of your ruined orgasm.

Tomura growls with a livid expression as his cock spurts, still throbbing with the remembrance of your gummy hole massaging him. His balls tighten and he throws his head back, canines bared as he lets the white darts shoot out onto your face.

“God — shit — wasn’t meant to fucking cum..” He murmurs, dabbing a knuckle over the damp sheen across his forehead.

He cracks his neck, then zips up his pants, shaking off the tension held between his shoulders before snapping his fingers, nudging your crouched form with the toe of his shoe. “Come on then, hand it over.” He demands with an almost exasperated sigh.

Panting, you turn to rummage through your bag. With two $20 notes crumpled in your palm, you offer them to the man with timid, shaking hands.

Enthusiastic as he snatches the paper from you, he eyes the green with scrunched carmines before clicking his tongue. “Seriously, $40 bucks? That’s it? I even made you cum you stingy cunt.” He looms over you with a menacing glare.

“Uhm.. I.. there’s..” You search through your pockets in a frenzy. “I don’t have any more on me..”

“Well, that’s gonna’ be a problem then, isn’t it?”

“I.. I can give it to you tomorrow! I’ll get you another 20!”

He tuts, narrowing his eyes at you before turning on his heel. “Make it 30.”

As he moves to make his leave, you begin to crawl with desperation, reaching out for him with an outstretched arm. “Wait!”

“What.”

“..Do.. Do you want to hang out this weekend?..” He thinks you resemble a love-sick puppy with the way you blink up at him. “..Please?.. Tomu-kun?..”

There’s a hint of a smile that plays on his cracked lips as he looks down at you, still thumbing the creased bills in his pocket. “Hm.. Actually—”

“Make it another 40.”

[knavves]

˖ ࣪ ꒷ BECAUSE IT'S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT ꒦

𓆩 ♱ 𓆪 featuring — sae itoshi. michael kaiser. ryusei shidou.

synopsis : your vampire bf's love how you taste. wc: 1.2k ⟣ ﹒cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. vampire au. blood drinking. masochism. nipple play. petnames. possessiveness. fingering. hair pulling. dry humping. dacryphilia. ꒷꒦

sae is a serious man, one shrouded in arrogance and partial mystery. to lose his composure is unheard of. as to why you, nothing more than a human, someone that should be nothing more than for him to feed on, can so easily pierce his hard exterior, he can't comprehend it. maybe that scares him a little but if anything, it intrigues him. he's grown some sort of attachment to you. infatuation? true love? he can't wrap his head around it. but he knows he needs to satisfy his obsession.

his fingers roamed your body, the cold touch sending shivers up your spine as he gropes at every crevice of your skin. you swallow hard when he stops at the side of your neck, his thumb tracing the spot where he'd probably bite you. "you want this, yes?" he quires as if sensing your nervousness. your stomach is twisting in a fury of different emotions but your head bobs up and down as you give him a few nods. his chest vibrates with a hum, "good girl." the hand on your neck moves to cradle your head whilst the other one resides on the small of your back, holding you so delicately as if he was afraid of breaking you, his 'treasure'.

a gasp escapes your lips, your eyes squeezing shut as he sinks his teeth into you. he nearly groans, finally tasting you as the crimson liquid dances across his taste buds, but he fights it, trying to hang on to the bits of the façade he puts on. he's losing himself in you.

the hand on your lower back wanders past your flimsy top, gliding up to your chest where your hardened nipples are prodding against the fabric. the pad of his thumb ghosts between the valley of your breasts, "sae.." you whimper, arching your back into him in a silent plea for him to give you more. he was toying with you, caressing your stomach and the base of your neck, never touching you where you really needed him. he pulls away from where his head is buried in your shoulder with a slick noise, his eyes piercing into you with warning. "patience, my love. you know i'll always give you what you want."

his movements are agonizingly slow, nearly taunting as he circles your areola, he's spending his time breaking you apart. he lives for the way you whine his name and the way you jolt as he inches closer to your sensitive nipples. he can't get enough of this, sae thinks as he watches you squeal when he finally pinches your bud in between his fingers.

kaiser's never been one to pay mind to others around him as they are just supporting roles to him and his big lead. but he thinks he's never set his eyes on anything as enchanting as you. a human, he knows, but there's something about you that lures him in, something that makes you different. especially now with the moonlight that escapes the curtains, drowning your body in the luminescence, perfectly illuminating every feature that intoxicates him.

he wants you all to himself.

your scent, your taste, your very being overwhelms his every sense as he's nestled into your neck, stripping your body of it's ruby essence. you've ruined him now, you taste better than anything he's had before. he has you perched up on his lap, hands digging in to your waist as he helps you grind your cunt against his lap, ripping whines and soft moans from you. "michael.." you whimper, mind fuzzy from the mixture of pain and pleasure flowing through your body. your fingers find leverage in his multi colored hair, tugging at his roots and greedily bucking your hips in to him to relieve the throbbing sensation between your legs.

he detaches from your neck, smirking at the marks imprinted into your skin. "mine, tell me you're mine, my dear." he rasps, dragging his tongue over the bite marks that were still seeping with blood. "m all yours, micha. only want you." he wishes he could hear it over and over, playing on a broken record with you just saying you're his. he can't fight back the smug grin that tugs at the corners of his lips as he pulls you in for a heated kiss. it's messy, all tongue and teeth clashing against one another.

he unlocks your lips from one another, albeit begrudgingly, cupping your cheek in his palm, "i'm the only one who gets to touch you like this." he speaks, his tone oozing with such possessiveness. he subconsciously ruts his hips in to you harder, the very thought of you belonging to him excites him. "all mine. don't ever forget that." your love is odd. an undead creature spilling his devotion to you, who would've thought? a 'monster' to any other but a lover to you.

shidou thinks you couldn't be any cuter right now. chest heaving with uneven and rushed breaths, face screwed up in pleasure, your needy pussy sucking his fingers in so desperately. he just wanted to fucking ruin you.

he's corrupted you, just one flash of his predatory like gaze and your head was instinctively lolling to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck to the undead beast looming over you. "atta girl." he chuckles darkly, his fangs bearing as a crooked grin draws onto his face. your breath hitches, eyes welling up with tears as shidou's teeth pierce through the layer of your skin until that familiar metallic taste lands on his tongue. he's messily feeding on you, blood escaping the corners of his lips and trickling down his chin. it's near animalistic.

it's addicting. the way the sharp sting flows with the feeling of his fingers fucking in and out of your sopping hole. you don't even care anymore, doing nothing to conceal your broken moans as you shamelessly beg him for more. shidou pulls away from you with a deep laugh, "such a needy thing." he coos, curling his digits up in to that spongy spot in your walls that has your hips twitching and nails clawing at his wrist. "you like that, hm? love when i fuck you on my fingers, angel?" you only whine at his words, unable to form coherent thoughts in your fucked out brain.

"close! m close, ryu!" every word that tumbles out of your lips is sloshed together, almost ineligible and cut off with cries of his name. your mind is spinning, not noticing that the tears that formed in your lash line hac helplessly spilled over until shidou leans over and licks a long stripe over the salty liquid staining your cheeks. "so pretty when you cry. go ahead, angel, cum for me. make a mess all over my fucking fingers."

"fuck ryu, cumming! m cumming!" you squeal, walls clamping down on his fingers where he was brutally pounding into your g-spot. your head falls back onto the plush of the pillows beneath you, your orgasm washing over you with a final cry of his name.

your eyes refocus in your drunken haze, locking on shidou as he sucks the arousal that cascaded down his wrist, your face heating up at the guttural moan that rips through his chest. "so sweet. don't get tired now, still wanna taste more of ya."

© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.