#But what can I say I have a noncon kink and that scene got me ngl

[b-rainlet]

Top 3 horniest scenes in horror go:

Mine are

- Mia Goth making out with the Scarecrow in Pearl

- Gaspard Ulliel playing Young Hannibal Lecter. Just. In general. But specifically him hanging that guy in the woods and singing 'Ein Männlein steht im Walde'

- The Rape Scene in Megan Is Missing, sorry not sorry

[trivia-yandere]

two sentence horror story

you ran up to the first person you saw -  a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded. masterlist | @darkuni63 | @momnomnom | @sweetempathprunetree |

writer: quae (explicit-tae)

word count: 4.284

warning: disturbing scenes, reader is taken, reader makes a dumb decision - don't be like reader, aphrodisiac intake, dubcon/noncon scenes, erotic massages, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, impregnation kink, creampie,

You ran up to the first person you saw -  a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.

You take a deep breath, massaging your temples. You were going to explode if you didn’t get out of here - your desk at the office. The workload your boss had slammed onto your desk didn’t match up with your schedule out of work. How were you expected to run errands after? You could barely manage to eat lunch some days and opted to not even leave your desk to do so.

“Doing another double?”

You stopped massaging your temples to turn towards Irina. She has a sympathetic look on her face. 

Nodding your head, Irina nods. “Same.” she groans. “It’s like they think we’re robots.” 

“Tell me about it.”

Irina was your desk neighbor, only being a few feet away and separated by a makeshift wall. She isn’t tall in the slightest but her heels make the majority of her height. She has dyed ginger hair that she often places in a low ponytail and the brightest hazel eyes you’re ever seen. She stands over the wall to speak with you.

“Maybe you need a break.” Irina wiggles her brows. “For a few days. Take PTO.”

You’re unsure, and Irina senses this. 

“I was just like you last week.” Irina says. “Bags under my eyes and all. But you see how refreshed I am after my break.”

Irina had a point. She smiled more and had a glow that could only appear when one was out of work - paid at that. You assumed she got the much needed rest and maybe even hit up a spa - you never asked, not one to ever pry.

“I’m not really sure.” you trail off. You had PTO, but only ever used it for holidays and your birthday, and even then it wasn’t as if you did anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you single?” Irina asks in a hushed whisper. The question is odd. She never pried into your life before.

Slowly, you nod.

Irina’s lips curled into a sly smirk.

“I know exactly what you need, Y/N.” Irina backs away and you can hear her at her desk, rummaging around. Her heels click against the floor as she comes to your desk. She places down a small, rectangular card. “A massage.”

“A massage?” you snort. You read the words on the card and hum.

“Between you and me,” Irina starts, whispering once more. “It’s an erotic massage.”

It takes you a few moments to get where Irina was coming from. 

“O-Oh.” you’re embarrassed and unsure what to say. 

“Maybe you just need to relax.” Irina giggles. “You know. Have an attractive man massage you…” Irina trails off. She’s unsure if she should continue or if that would be going too far. “Just think about it and let me know. First time is half off!”

You think about Irina’s words the entire day and when you’re home soaking in your bath, you decide to check out the website.

The website was official, but you needed a code to get in. Irina had sent you one once you asked about it, excited that you were checking into it. 

The website had pictures and videos of said “erotic massages” and you were sure that it was just amateur porn. But you’d admit, the way the men - and even women if that was what visitors were into - massaged their clients, it appeared to be amazing. 

You pondered if that was what you needed. A good massage (and a good fuck). But wasn’t that paying for sex? You haven’t paid for sex before (of course) and you’re unsure how this works.

Reading the website, you are greeted with many pictures of men with their names and important details about them - even STD screenings if you were going to engage sexually with them.

“So, did you book a massage?” Irina asks you the following day, giddy and excited to hear your thoughts. 

You shake your head. “It’s all…so new to me.” you admit.

Irina nods her head in agreement. She understood completely. 

“But I’m not…against it. Is that crazy?” “Of course not!” Irina exclaims. “We all need a good orgasm. You’ll come back good as new afterwards.”

You feel yourself grow hot. “How many bookings did you do?”

“Five days out of the 7 I was off.” Irina cackles. “It was amazing. If you’re interested in sex, you get to pick your poison.”

“Excuse me?” you raise a brow.

Pick your poison.

Your eyes scanned the hundreds of categories displayed in front of you. 

Bound.

Gag.

Anal play.

You exhale.

What in the world were you about to get yourself into?

Picking your poison was harder than you’d expect. You weren’t an avid porn watcher, but when you did to get yourself off, there were a few things you’d be willing to try - and a ton that you weren’t.

It took you a few days to even start your own application process. Something about this felt off - wrong. You were technically paying for sex and it makes you feel desperate. You’ve busied yourself with work that finding a partner or even a hookup is difficult. You wouldn’t never thought about paying for an erotic massage to get your mind off of work and destress yourself.

But, you were also too far in. You’ve made an account, browsed through several videos and pictures of said massages and even searched through potential masseurs. 

Your PTO was approved. You had to go through countless documents before your boss would even consider, but you were approved nonetheless and you were excited. You were jittery finishing the last document, the thought of you getting off and picking your masseur. 

“You finished early.” Irina’s voice sounds besides you as you’re strolling out of the office. She has a knowing smirk on her lips, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Have you picked your masseur?”

You shake your head. 

“That’s okay.” Irina waves off. “It took me a whole day to decide. As long as you pick your poison, it’d be better to find your masseur.”

You swallow. You indeed had picked your poison and it filtered through hundreds of masseurs and masseuses who experienced doing so. 

Irina suddenly stops walking as you reach the parking garage. She turns to you. “Don’t back down.” she says and you’re confused by her sudden change of tone. “You got this. Just relax and enjoy your mini vacation.”

You nod your head with a slight gulp. “I’ll try.” Your voice is low and meek and Irina only offers a smile and a short wave before she makes her way to her car.

Your mind replays Irina’s words. 

Don’t back down.

You got this.

It was your first day of your vacation and you’ve spent hours scouting through profiles of masseurs. You were sure that you weren’t a picky person - but no one has caught your eye. You contemplated giving up countless times, but you were determined. You needed this - a get away from reality.

A notification sounds through your laptop and you’re taken aback. On the right top corner of the screen shows a little message. You click it and a tab pops up. It appears to be a livechat with the service.

Still deciding on a masseur?

You re-read the message and groan. You type back a response. 

Yes.

Three dots are forming onto the bottom of the chat and you await a response. 

If you’d like, we can send recommendations.

Or…

Your eyes wait in anticipation for the next response. Or what?

We can open your profile for masseurs to find. You would be met with masseurs in your area who fit your poison categories. 

Would you be interested?

You gulp. Having the masseurs message instead of doing it yourself appeared to be easier. You were an indecisive person after all - maybe if your options were limited then it would make your decision easier. 

Yes, please.

The following day you awoke like normal. You showered, ate and got ready to go back onto the site. You were expecting only a few messages from masseurs - not hundreds. Your eyes are wide as you scour through the messages and profile pictures of the men.

Now you were left more indecisive than before. 

Another notification sounds on your laptop and you’re expecting it to be the livechat but it wasn’t.

“Taehyung.” your lips murmur out the name of the masseur messaging you.

The man was attractive. He appeared tall with dark hair and the same dark eyes. In the pictures displayed, he showed countless pictures all from headshots to body. 

The lip ring paired with hydrated lips are what catches your eyes instantly, the sleeve of tattoos are next. His smile was addictive and it reminded you of a bunny.

Your mind was set - Jungkook was going to be your masseur. 

Taehyung’s prices were lower than the others and you contemplated why, but you wouldn’t complain. 

You submitted your own STD screening after you acquired Taehyung’s paired with a driver's license and a masseur’s certificate. 

All that was left to do was speak with Taehyung. Your nerves were getting at you - this man would eventually see you naked. He was hot - insanely so. How many times had he himself done this?

You were suddenly getting second thoughts about this. 

Irina’s words replayed in your head.

You got this.

You inhale deeply. “I got this.” you say to yourself.

You anticipated the phone to ring any moment now, and when it had you instantly grasped it and answered. You mentally slapped yourself at appearing so desperate for a man’s attention.

“H-Hello.”

“Hello.”

Taehyung’s voice is deep and smooth. Your legs shake at just the sound of it.

“Hi.” is all you could muster out and a laugh is heard on the other side of the phone. 

“Hi.” Taehyung repeats. “You’re Y/N, I assume.”

You nod without realizing. “Yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Over the phone, at least. I’m Taehyung.” Your mind flashes with Taehyung and how he looks right now. 

You and Taehyung speak for over a half an hour - speaking business and detailing what you’d be doing while with him. He had gone over your poison - much to your dismay - and agreed that they were mild compared to the rest of the categories. 

“One of your poison picking was to be blind folded.” Taehyung murmurs. “That’s what we would start with when you come. I will be sending you my address shortly and you’ll be greeted upon arrival. I’ll pass you what you’ll need.”

You listen to Taehyung speak. 

“You are familiar with erotic massages, right?”

“Only with what I see on the site.” you curse at how uneducated you were.

Taehyung chuckles. “Cute.” he murmurs. “You’ll be naked, of course. I’ll place a robe and your blindfold in the dressing room.”

“Okay.” you respond, cheeks flushed.

“I can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.”

The following evening you were a wreck. You’ve showered, scrubbing any inch of dirt off your skin. You lightly lotioned your body, your mind recalling that the masseur would be rubbing oil onto you. You combed your hair and placed it into a low bun and when it was time for you to go, you did several takes in the mirror to assure you were presentable.

The address he sent you wasn’t far and when you arrived you were surprised to find that it appeared to be a business - more like a convenient store in size. The windows are large, but not see through. You can see your reflection as you stroll towards the door. 

The door sounds as you enter the small shop. The floors are hardwood and the walls were a light color. In front of you sat a large desk with a computer on the other side - you assumed a receptionist desk. You’re anxious for what's to come when a door to your right opens and Taehyung comes out. He’s wearing a tight fitted dark shirt with a collar and slacks.

“Y/L Y/N?” Taehyung asks with a bright smile, bunny teeth on display. His voice was different in person.  “I’m Taehyung.” he bows slightly and offers you his hand to take, and when you do he gently kisses it. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.” you murmur softly, starstruck by the man's beauty and charisma. 

“If you would like to follow me.” Taehyung closes the door behind him and passes you around the receptionist desk. “Back here is where we’d be for the day.”

You follow closely past two sliding doors. It opens to reveal a large room. The room is slightly darker than the previous one and you assume it was to fit the vibe. One wall is fully stocked with mirrors while the one forward had a dark crimson color. In the middle of the room sat one medium size massage bed and on top of it, one robe, a towel and a blindfold.

“I’ll leave to allow you to get undressed. The robe is optional if you are not yet comfortable with starting the massage. If you are, you can get undressed and place the towel on you.”

“Okay.” you nod your head.

Taehyung leaves and you take a deep breath. There was no backing down now. You had already paid your deposit for your appointment and now you are here.

You begin to undress yourself, placing your folded clothes neatly on a nearby chair. You grasped the towel and wrapped your body with it and laid upon the massage bed. 

A knock sounds a couple of minutes later and Taehyung enters once more. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Taehyung asks. He’s holding a cup in his hands. “I got you some tea. It should help with your nerves.”

You grasp the warm tea being placed in your hands. You nod at his question before sipping the tea. It was delicious and you could taste the mixed fruit infused with it.

Taehyung takes the cup of tea once you are finished with it and he places it down on a nearby table. He faces you. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” you say with a gulp.

You lay back onto the massage bed, chest against it and you cross your arms to rest your head. You feel your towel gently be removed from your body and a gush of cold air greets you.

You hum slowly once you feel Taehyung’s large hands begin to rub and tug against your back, rising up to your neck and falling back all the way down your spine and to your lower back. 

“You must work so hard.” Taehyung notes.  “You have a lot of knots.”

You hum in agreement. Your anxiousness and worry were slowly fading as time passes. The massage is amazing and you feel as though you could kiss Irina for recommending you such a sight.

“I’m going to put the blindfold on now, alright?” Taehyung says suddenly and you nearly forgot about your poisons. 

You nod without hesitation and your head is lifted slightly so that the blindfold can wrap around you. It’s tight, but it doesn’t bother you.

“I’m going to step out to grab the rest of the supplies needed for your massage.”

You hear the door open and footsteps sound. It closes a few minutes later and you feel Taehyung’s presence inside the room. 

“She’s ready.” Jungkook murmurs to Taehyung who is standing outside the room, a box of sex toys ready for your massage. “Don’t have too much fun.” Jungkook calls from down the hall.

“I’ll try not to.” Taehyung whispers low to himself. 

Taehyung places the box of toys down onto a table and marvels at your naked body.

“Are you ready?” Taehyung’s voice is low, raspy and deep. You gulp and nod your head.

Taehyung places a hand along your backside until he’s touching your ass. He rubs it, already placing the oil onto it.

The sounds of your sweet moans are already sending him over the edge. He’s hard and wishes he could have you the way he wants. But Taehyung was a patient man. He waited this long to have you. Paying Irina possibly cost him more than it should and displaying Jungkook’s pictures on the website to assure you didn’t know his identity was risky - but worth it if it meant he could have you.

Taehyung’s fingers fall dangerously close to your clit as he rubs your ass and you whimper at the closeness. It would be a matter of time until you’re a complete and utter mess thanks to the aphrodisiac Jungkook has made for you.

You release a high groan when Taehyung presses a thumb onto your clit. He rubs gently at first and you’re arching your back to get more impact.

Your hole is teasing him, pulsing for him to enter his fingers inside of you - so he does. He enters two at first to stretch you out.

You feel amazing - more than you usually do during sex. You tell yourself it’s because you haven't had an actual man pleasure you in a while and there's only so much a vibrator can do.

Taehyung fucks his fingers inside of you. You moan loudly, unable to control them any longer. 

Taehyung encourages you to arch your back so he can have deeper access by wrapping a free arm beneath your stomach to arch you forward.

“You’re so wet.” Taehyung groans. He removes his fingers to place them inside his mouth and he himself moans at how amazing you taste.

 Taehyung enters his fingers back inside of you and continues to pump. He lowers himself to your ear, enjoying the way you moan so sweetly for him.

You feel Taehyung release you just to flip you over onto your back. You’re trembling still and your pussy throbs, missing the way Taehyung’s fingers felt inside of it.

Taehyung presses a soft kiss against your cheeks before his lips touch yours. The feeling is amazing, no matter how intimate it felt. You speculate that it was a part of his job - to pleasure you in all ways he could. You hadn’t cared in the slightest. 

Taehyung loves the way your lips taste and he wants to savor the taste, but he’s sure he has more than enough time to. He trails kisses down your neck to your chest and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue against your nipple.

Taehyung gropes both of your breasts, massaging as his tongue wraps around your nipple fully and he suckles on it. You’re moaning loudly and breathing heavily at the feeling. Your mind is drifting away from any anxiety you felt - almost as if it was never present to begin with. Your body feels hot and amazing thanks to Taehyung. 

Taehyung trails his right hand between your legs, slapping your inner thighs to allow him access. He rubs your clit rapidly, suckling on your breast as if his life depended on it. 

You squeeze your eyes shut - not as if you could see regardless - and your body feels hot. Your stomach churns and you’re shaking your head side to side.

“You’re about to cum.” Taehyung chuckles darkly against your nipples. He licks it one last time before lifting himself up. He continues to fuck his fingers inside of you, eyes watching intently the way your pussy gushes out your juices onto the massage bed.

You flinch just as Taehyug removes his fingers from inside of you. 

Taehyung isn’t upset that you’ve squirted and managed to make a mess of yourself - it’s exactly what he wanted. 

“We’re not done, baby.” Taehyung says and you shiver at the pet name.

Taehyung needed to taste you before he could fuck you. He rounds the massage bed and lowers himself to your legs, already wide and inviting. 

Taehyung licks along your clit and he grunts. He nods his head from side to side, fingers firmly gripped on your thighs to assure you do not move.

You were overstimulated and going crazy. You’ve already came once, but Taehyung was determined to make you cum again - and again until you’re begging him to stop. 

Taehyung’s glad he got you in his grasp; so glad and excited that he would be able to eat you out everyday. You would never leave his side again.

“It feels so good.” your words appear slurred but you couldn’t help yourself. 

Taehyung watches your face, your lips are opening and closing and a few times even being bitten by your teeth. He’s positive you’re overwhelmed with pleasure - you worked so hard everyday and you never had the chance to ever relax.

But now Taehyung has entered your life and you no longer need to work.

Just as Taehyung felt like you were going to cum - due to your heavy breathing and loud moaning, he removes his tongue from your clit and he slaps it.

“I’m going to fuck you.” Taehyung states. His initial plan was to pleasure you, using all of your kinks you displayed on your profile. But you and he had eternity together so he would always get the chance to another time.

Taehyung removes his pants and underwear in a swift movement. He always fantasized what your pussy would feel like and now he would finally get the chance to.

Taehyung releases a long groan as he enters you. Your pussy was amazing - so wet and tight just for him. He wants to go easy on you knowing that you hadn’t had sex in such a long time, but he can’t. He’s uncontrollable, fucking into you at such a brutal paced that the massage bed is screeching against the floor. 

Your breast are bouncing as Taehyung fucks you. Your head is thrown back and your mind is swirling. The sensation never feels enough - you never felt like this before. Even with the amount of times you managed to cum, you could never get enough.

Were you this stressed? This cock-hungry?

You’re unsure how long Taehyung fucks you. It’s as though you completely black out.

You get flipped onto your front and he fucks into you at the same brutal pace, slapping your ass hard until it bruises. He wraps a hand around your neck as he does so and whispers filthy words into your ears, but your mind doesn’t allow you to fully comprehend what he’s saying.

You’re so far gone and fucked out that Taehyung isn’t sure you’ll remember the amazing feeling you are experiencing - but you and he had eternity together.

Taehyung flips you so that you are on top of him, yet you have no control. You came three more times and Taehyung twice, yet the both of you were insatiable. You would be sore the following day, but it's alright. This is what you came for in the end - to be wrecked by him and him only. 

Taehyung groans, fingernails digging into the skin of your hip. Your arms are wrapped around him as he drills inside of you. Your tears are stained to your cheeks - tears of pure joy and pleasure. He was going to cum again - inside of you like he had before. He ponders what you’d look like swollen with his child - round and healthy with enlarged breast to nurse his child. 

Taehyung grunts. “So beautiful.” he compliments, sending a kiss onto your shoulder. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Your eyes widened when you managed to escape out of the small window. Your hands and knees are bleeding - having been scrapped against the broken glass. You run and run, never stopping. Your legs want to give out and your lungs ache for air, but you cannot stop now.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been gone for, trapped in the dark room by Taehyung. 

Months? 

Were people looking for you?

You hadn’t been outside since the day you arrived at your appointment - a day you regret greatly. You awoke bound to and blindfolded by Taehyung, him assuring he would unbind you as soon as he could trust you - and he never had. Each day you endured whatever the man wanted to give - your mind refusing to believe this was your reality. 

You’re unsure how you managed to escape, but you don’t dwell on it. The freedom you feel now is overwhelming. You begin to cry, the tears blurring your vision. 

Your feet reach a road and you finally manage to stop. You fall to your knees, heaving for any bit of air your lungs are willing to give you. 

Lights shine on you and your hands lift to cover your eyes.

A car was coming.

A car.

You ran up to the first person you saw -  a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.

The man's eyes are wide when he rolls down his window and says. “How did you get out, baby?”

Your eyes widen to match his in pure horror as you recognize the voice - the same one belonging to the kidnapper you escaped from.

Taehyung.

You shake your head, paralyzed with fear. This wasn't the man you met for your appointment, but you'd never forget that voice.

Your feet turn to run away, but you feel arms wrap around you. You're yanked off of your feet and into the large car. You scream for help - any help that you can find, but you aren't saved.

Taehyung enters the car and shakes his head. Your wrist are bleeding and he's sure you fought long and hard to get your hands out of the cuffs. "To think I was about to take the cuffs and the blindfold off for your good behavior." he tsks, locking the door and speeding down the road.

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER TEN: RABBIT

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, implied child abuse, self harm, fatphobia, body dysmorphia

This is chronologically the tenth chapter in the series.

Read beneath the cut...

Napalm is the slow fire of waking from a terrible dream, blind, gasping, burnt. The pain, though delusive, is made actual by the action of nerves.

Only a hand at your shoulder, vigorous in its attentions, hauls you up from the putrescence of slumber into the light-dark of four in the morning. You find Hannibal's shape through lashes gummed with sleep's adhesive.

His face is as impassive as a star, but his hair, ever coiffed, is displaced from the friction of his pillow.

“You were screaming,” he says, as you sit, stunned, in his arms. “What were you dreaming about? Do you remember?”

“No,” you say, although the scenes remain briefly in your vision, doubling like silk screen prints upon the walls.

Hannibal fills up a glass with fresh water and bids you to drink, his eyes pensive, unconvinced.

Only the notion that he may suggest you share his bed or else intrude upon yours impels you to honesty.

“I dreamt that I was trapped in one of the Silicone Lover’s dolls. That he was trying to squeeze me inside, and I wouldn’t fit. He said, ‘You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you. I’d better do something about that.’

“Then he started cutting me up with kitchen scissors, and I couldn’t stop him.”

You pause, choking on a breath, a verbal stagger.

Dr Lecter offers you the water again, which you take in both hands and drain to its end.

“Take your time,” says Hannibal. “When you’re ready, go on.”

Lying will fail you before the all-seeing eye, so it is with a flat honesty that you say, “It wasn’t what the Lover did in my dream that scared me. It was what he said to me. Because he was right.”

You reach down to pull the quilt up across your stomach, which Hannibal, with a subtle gesture, prevents.

“To agree with such a statement there must be some basis of comparison for you,” he says. “You knew the person standing in as the Lover in your dream. Can you name him?”

Hannibal could guess it, from the little you’ve told him of your unclean past, but if memory conjures the name from the gully of silence he does not say so.

Instead, he comments, “I think it’s unwise for you to sleep again until your mind is settled. Perhaps we may take advantage of the hour to continue your therapy, in an informal fashion.”

He sits in a chair by your bed, producing a notepad and pen from a pocket of his dressing gown.

You see that he will not move.

"What if I don’t talk?” you ask, softly. “What if I say I'd rather take the punishment?"

Hannibal's slender lips upturn.

"I wouldn't be inclined to take such a claim seriously.”

In sullen defeat you flounce back against the pillows.

Dr Lecter takes his cue.

“I’m curious about the friendships you’ve formed throughout your life. Have there been any notable examples?”

“Not many,” you answer, looking at the raw edges of your fingernails. “I was kind of the weird kid. It was like looking through a dusty museum window at everybody passing by, not really knowing how to get out there and talk to people. Like I was too old and too young at the same time.

“I got bullied, kind of. Nothing worth talking about. Just dumb kid stuff.”

“Even persecution of a childish nature bears painful resonance in later life,” Hannibal comments. “Moreover, isolation from one's peers may disrupt development in those vital years.”

You think of dolorous hours patrolling a fallow playground alone, three hundred children staring through you with adult hostility.

“I did make one friend,” you say. “First year of high school. Amy Glass. She was a weird kid, too.”

Hannibal scratches deftly on his notepad.

"Describe how you met."

Closing your eyes, you find your way back through the forests of the past to a corridor whose tiled floor squeaks under your shoes. You smell textbook paper and saccharine body spray. The sweat of young bodies, and the stale cafeteria fare you’d never tasted throughout your time there.

“Between classes Amy would sit in a window listening to music, or reading,” you say. “Stephen King, usually. Sometimes Ann Rice. She seemed to be up there all the time. I don’t think she was getting shit from the other kids or anything; she just preferred hanging out on her own.

“I wished I was like that, not caring. I wished I was her, period.”

“In what way?” asks Dr Lecter, and in the hallway of your mind a slender figure appears, brown of skin and eyes, blue hair cut roughly to the chin, its roots seeping in atop it like a stain.

Amy.

“A lot of ways,” you say. “Before I really knew her, it was about how she looked. She had piercings— ears, lip, nose, eyebrow. Teachers would tell her to take them out, then the second she was out of their eye-line she’d put them right back in. And even back then she had these awful stick and poke tattoos of bats and crosses she covered up with band aids for classes.

“She did all of them herself with a safety pin. God knows how she didn’t get an infection or anything.

“Then there was the fact I knew we liked some of the same music because of the patches on her bag, and her t-shirts and stuff. Nothing you’d approve of,” you add, as interest touches the face of your listener. “Jesus, I can’t even imagine playing stuff like that in this house. Anyway, I didn’t want to just be like, ‘hey, you like that band, too’. It would have been too weird. Stalkery, maybe?”

“Music isn’t such a terrible way to form a connection,” says Hannibal, amused. “I was once approached in friendship through a shared taste in cheese.”

Picturing his restrained derision you cannot help but laugh.

“Oh, god,” you say. “What were they thinking?”

“It was a naive assumption of commonalities. Besides, my commitment to professionalism would never have allowed us to be as close as he would have hoped.”

You give a little start of affront.

“You’ve made friends with other clients.”

Dr Lecter’s smile remains.

“Only with those whom I feel my presence benefits.”

“Benefits you, you mean,” you say, pettishly. “Whoever it was, you just didn’t like him that much. That’s why you turned him down. Or maybe he was too like you.”

Without appearing offended, Hannibal turns a page in his notebook.

“I'm unconcerned with debating my personal relationships, little one. Let’s return to Amy. Who initiated the friendship between you?”

“Amy,” you say. “It was after this councillor was trying to get something out of me, and I didn’t want to talk. I walked out that room feeling so... heavy, and grimy, and embarrassed. Then there was Amy, heading to the same office I just walked out of. She looked at me, scrunched her face up, and said, ‘Wish me luck.’ Next time I saw her I made the same face back and asked, ‘how was it?’

“‘The worst, just like always,’ she said. ‘Where’d she get her certificate, anyway? Clown school?’

“I burst out laughing. ‘She’s so bad, right?’

“And that was it. Friends. We went everywhere together. Amy really liked me. I don’t know why. I think maybe she thought I was sort of mysterious and interesting rather than just depressed, probably because I didn’t want to talk about what was going on with me.

“She told me everything about her. How her dad didn’t believe in mental health issues even though he was just like she was, and how her mom just ignored everything, hoping it’d just... go away. But I didn’t tell Amy even one little thing about me, really. Not one.”

Guilt you’ve never truly confronted falls like a petal from a late summer bloom, cloying the dark with its flavour.

“Did Amy ever indicate that she’d recognised your particular illness?” prompts Hannibal, and you shrug glumly.

“A couple of times. I ignored every hint. Changed the subject. Acted like it wasn’t a thing when it obviously was. I knew that she knew. That was the dynamic. She was softer, around me. She got it. She got me.”

Suddenly your breath feels very high in your chest, catching on a rib.

“I can’t help but notice your use of the past tense,” says Dr Lecter. “Might I assume that you are no longer friends?”

“We grew apart after school,” you mutter. “I think she would have liked it if I stayed in touch, but then sometimes I wonder if that’s just wishful thinking, and maybe she didn’t care all that much when we drifted apart and stopping talking.

“I have her on Facebook. That’s all, really. She was never a social media person anyway, but still. I could have tried harder. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Hannibal allows the silence between you to ferment before he speaks again.

“Looking back, what do you think prevented you from maintaining contact?”

“I felt like after school was over she’d find other friends, and I’d just end up being left behind. So I got out of there before I had to see it happen.”

"You abandoned a friendship on the basis of a prophecy that might never have come to fruition."

"It would have,” you insist. “All my life I've had senses about things. Like, if I get a feeling something will or won't happen, I'm always right. Like I was right about you."

Swanlike, Dr Lecter’s hands move across his notebook, tactfully punctuating a note.

"It's common for sufferers of complex post-traumatic stress disorder to misinterpret their hypervigilance as psychic premonition. A heightened awareness of your surroundings and the behaviours of people in your vicinity develops in order to predict danger before it occurs. Pattern recognition is more mathematical than clairvoyant."

"What about my dreams?" you ask, sharply. “Are they math, too?”

"You've had other nightmares?” asks Hannibal, and leans forward, poised to digest you answer.

Canny, you hoard the matter like a serpent its glittering lair.

Hannibal accepts his defeat with grace.

Gathering up his notebook and the empty glass, he says, "That's enough therapy for now, particularly so early in the morning. I'll make you some tea, and you may return to sleep. Peacefully, this time, I hope."

*

Later, there is a meal that sits, sinking in a bath of bronze on Dr Lecter’s dining table, so much of it that you’re gorged merely from the arithmetic of its makeup.

“Arroz de Cabidela,” says Hannibal, as he pulls out his own chair. “A Portuguese dish made with rice, chicken, or rabbit cooked in its own blood. Today I’ve chosen rabbit. Have you ever eaten it before?”

It occurs to you that he expects you to be disturbed by the notion, but you are not. Meat is meat, all of it equally cruel. That life must end for the furthering of your existence has driven you to veganism many a time.

Little chance of sustaining such a diet now that you sleep in the devil’s slaughterhouse.

“No,” you say. “I’ve never tried rabbit. I heard it’s really... gamey.”

Your palate is scarcely educated enough to comprehend the statement. Still, it is apparently accurate, for Hannibal makes a low hum of agreement.

“It has similarities to poultry, in flavour, though it’s rather lean and dry. The blood stew adds a richness you’ll find complimentary, however.”

The scent is certainly inviting, but you are so committed to rejecting whatever is served to you that you feel lightheaded, succumbing to the altitude of starving heights.

“Couldn’t you have given me a smaller portion?” you ask, piteously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s so... much.”

Hannibal glances from your plate to his own, his visage neutral.

“I’ve served you a great deal less than I’ve given myself,” he says. “That said, I’m sure we can settle our differences. I’m not unyielding, if I can see some effort is being made.”

You look him in the eye, hoping you appear more bold than frightened.

“Dr Lecter, you make me all these courses, and they’re crazy even for a normal person. I feel like you do it on purpose. And afterwards my stomach hurts.”

“That’s normal, after a period of fasting. Your body will adjust. Now, please eat.”

You don’t. The cut on your plate makes you think of the Lover’s dolls, how even at your slightest you wouldn’t have fit into such a shell. How, changed as you must be through Hannibal’s cooking, you would ooze over every edge.

“I could use the feeding tube, if you’re unwilling,” says Dr Lecter, rising from his chair to stand at your back. “It would be relatively easy for me to administer. But I’d hate to sour an otherwise pleasant meal with brute force.”

He cups your throat in his smooth hand, and you envision how lovingly he’d coil about you in restraint, guiding the pipe down through you as you choked and flinched in his grasp.

“I’ll eat a quarter,” you say. “That’s it. Then... then nothing else until tomorrow. I won’t sneak out of bed, and I won’t do anything that breaks the rules. Please, Dr Lecter. Uh... Daddy?”

Your confusion between roles endears you to him, as does your breathless, eager willingness to beg.

“Should I allow you to barter?” Hannibal muses, still caressing the wand of your stiff neck. “It’s a symptom of your illness, after all.”

“Just let me choose how much and I’ll try anything you offer me.”

Dr Lecter releases a small breath of laughter.

“I wouldn’t like you to eat your words, little one.”

Gnashing your teeth, you say, “I won’t. I can do it. Please let me. You’re supposed to dote on me, aren’t you?”

You feel Hannibal’s lips against your hair in a kiss of paternal indulgence.

“Always so spirited,” he says. “Very well. I cannot deny my little beauty her request.”

What beauty does he refer to? You’ve only recognised it in the mine shafts of furthest hunger, mistaking a shadow for some precious stone.

Yet clearly you are not so low quality as you believe if both men have fucked you so freely over other women, whom they could conceivably draw into the net of the house.

Then again, there is no accounting for the tastes of madmen, and mad they both are, even Hannibal in his gelid divinity.

From the topiary of his language and flippant games you are beginning to see that you interest him in your very opposition to his being. Were you to succumb completely you would not be so worthy: all men bow to Hannibal, after all, seduced and deceived until they’d lick his fingers like lambs for the milk of his approval.

You, like Will, resist and evade enough of his passes to set yourself apart from the flock.

You may yet throw a halter over the head of the horned man, if only in as much as he allows himself to be reigned.

Quartering your meal as neatly as you're able, you glance up at Dr Lecter, afraid that, by some caprice, he’ll break his code and force you to eat down to the bare plate. But he merely stands by, retaining his honour, and as you look at him you picture his mild hands breaking the neck of the rabbit to drain as though for a ritual of blood.

*

Frequently through your days with Hannibal he immerses himself in hobbies and work about the house, cultivating a necessary solitude after the long hours of ingesting others’ anxious thoughts.

He reads, or writes music, sketches, telephones his friends and past lovers—of whom there are many—or else sets his pen to journals, having seen you safe to your locked room, where he need not prepare for misdemeanour.

In this way your residence in Hannibal’s home does not impede upon his individual pursuits, but rather compliments them, an accent of his sempiturnal glamour.

You are, after all, but one of his many pastimes. It is indulgence, then, when he insists on attending your evening bath.

As he kneels beside the tub to dampen a washcloth his intentions surface, another infringement upon the flesh.

“I don’t need you to help me,” you mumble, arms taut across your chest. “I’m not your baby.”

“Your inner child wails for the tenderness your illness has long obstructed,” says Hannibal, calmly. “Your independence would have you die like an infant abandoned to the forest. Let me carry you, at least in this small act of service.”

You look at him with eyes as dull as old blades and picture the futility of your struggle, his lithe arms holding you, kicking and airless, beneath the foam.

“Don’t you have your own daughter you can do all this with?” you ask; you’ve not yet needled him on his familial relations, and feel yourself more than entitled to know.

Hannibal begins to work the flannel over your naked form, paying no heed to your twitching affront.

“Abigail would have served the role admirably,” he says. “But it wasn’t to be. As for my own children, I have none.”

The revelation passes you without surprise. It’s only possible to imagine him having elegant, adult offspring, absent of the soiling indignities of rearing an infant.

“So you took me away for you and Will to raise,” you say. “Guessing he doesn’t have kids, either.”

The washcloth folds beneath the water, and you gaze studiously at the opposite wall so as not to think about the hand behind the fabric, how it has touched you in other ways, pleasantly, horridly.

“Will is also childless,” says Dr Lecter. “He has never known family, as you have. His mother left him when he was only an infant, and his father was a distant figure, though present. Now it seems that they’re estranged from one another. One can only imagine the loneliness Will has known in his life. Perhaps, with your assistance, this will change.”

Cloth, skin, hands, touch. Gentle and beguiling their trap, to distract from the permanence of this suggested triptych as fingers play against you underwater.

Unsteadily, you ask, “Is Will your boyfriend?”

Hannibal turns you an indecipherable look.

“Do you perceive our relationship to be romantic?”

A strange question, considering the violation with which you were inducted to their company. But not once did either man kiss or grasp the other— a technicality, certainly, yet one, it seems, that holds weight.

“Yes,” you say. “For you, anyway. I don’t know about Will. I know he thinks highly of you. He just sees me as something that’s in the way.”

You kick a foot testily, splashing water over the rim of the bath.

“What are you in the way of?” asks Hannibal, as he begins to lather your hair.

“Not sure. Your friendship, I guess.”

“Do you believe him when he implies that you're only an obstacle to him?”

Water pours over your head, and you close your eyes, enduring the sensation.

“He told me I’m unwanted,” you say.

“When you attempted to kill him?”

Fear bowls over you with a black suddenness.

“He told you?”

“I came to my own conclusions. You weren't quiet, either of you, that night."

You look at Hannibal, at the stag man of your dreams, and taste something like dirt, something like blood, at the back of your mouth.

“Had you seriously injured him or succeeded in your bid to end his life I would have been forced to conclude our treatment,” he says. “But you did not. I’m thankful to have been provided with a truth I hadn’t yet drawn from you: I know that you are not a killer, at least not at this present moment.”

In a strengthless whisper, you ask, “What do you mean?”

Hannibal draws a comb through your hair, unmoved by the conversation.

“As time changes the continents, people come apart through circumstance into new being. That shift may one day lead to the birth of murder’s country.”

A thought stings you like the cold: Will and Hannibal want you to be capable of killing, if not of them, then someone of lesser consequence, the hereditary illness emerging in the child.

That is the secret under this house, the whisper in the walls, its present haunting.

“I hope that never happens,” you mumble. “Never. No matter what you do.

“And yet the whetting of your blood thirst didn’t begin with Will and I,” says Dr Lecter, mildly. “Until you admit your liking of its flavour you will remain unsatisfied, little one.”

You do not ask how he knows you’ve thought of killing, once before, which you yourself had forgotten; having been in your home, the chill sanctum of your childhood bedroom, he may have learned, of you, a myriad, his interrogation merely a practice in contextualising his findings.

“I’d rather starve,” you say, at last, and sink your chin beneath the water.

Dr Lecter takes a razor from a nearby cabinet and begins to shave you with slow precision. He does not ask if you wish for it, only glides the razor across your underarms, groin, and each leg until you run silken beneath his hands.

That done, Hannibal rises, brushing unseen dust from his knees.

“I’ll bring you some fresh clothes,” he says, and leaves the room, a ghost departing the stage.

You look at the razor, entrapped in its plastic guard on the rim of the bath.

Had you a pair of scissors you might have cut the metal free to make a weapon, or else an escape into realms unknown to the living. Though its edge is still wickedness manifest, it would take a great deal of pressure to pursue death by this angle, though it would not be impossible.

It is not death you want to meet, however, but another, nameless coward.

You take the blade to your arm, and the pain is like eating, a sin that sates the freak of misery.

The bathwater turns like a devil’s baptism, and though they are but shallow cuts you feel suddenly faint. Lying back, you lay your arm against the porcelain, thinking murky thoughts of your mistake.

Hannibal returns carrying a muted lilac dress and pale stockings, stilling at the sight of you, of the water, red as autumn mud.

He sets down the clothing and kneels beside you again.

“Let me see.”

You let him take your arm and touch the crude little gashes softly.

“Shower, quickly. Then I’ll treat your wounds. Fortunately, they aren’t so deep.”

How gentle he is with you, this beast dressed as a man in his pressed shirt and waistcoat, guiding your numb form about with a soothing authority. You’d once yearned to be handled like this, to be absolved and set free of any and all expectation. That it comes from him is like being spit in the eye by the Fates, one after the other.

Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos: what have you done to so offend them?

It’s only after having bandaged your forearm and settled you, dummy-like, upon his bed, that Hannibal speaks again.

“What motivated you to do this?”

“You know.”

“Elaborate.”

You lie, face down, in the pillows. The cotton smells like him.

“To feel better,” you say. “Amy said it helped her, sometimes. Cleared her head.”

The mattress tilts slightly as Dr Lecter sits down beside you.

“You mirror her pain to feel closer to love lost. Has it helped you?”

“No. I feel stupid. I feel—”

Restless, you turn onto your side and feel a tear, compelled by gravity, mark your jaw.

“I feel like a kid,” you say. “It’s humiliating. I hate that I always feel this way. Don’t make me live like this.”

Dr Lecter presses a tissue into your hand, as much to save his bedclothes as to comfort you.

“Fighting the expression of necessary emotions will only stunt them further, little one. Will and I would dearly like to see you flourish. Amy would surely wish that for you, too.”

Cradling your wounded arm to your chest, you flick the used tissue to the floor with the other.

“Screw you,” you say. “Both of you. That’s what Amy would tell me to say to you, Dad.”

Hannibal stares at the tissue, and you sense the inward twitch of his irritation as he bends to pick it up from the ground.

“Your parents called again, this afternoon,” he says, offhandedly. “I informed them that you were struggling with your treatment. I advised that we continue your residence here a month longer than previously agreed.”

He casts you a pitying look, and you’re reminded of the futility of going to war with Hannibal Lecter.

“It seems that I made the prudent choice,” he says. “Don’t you agree?”

[flo-nelja]

Somnophilia for kink meme?

Alright, most of my answers are gonna be noncon somnophilia with creeps, I know it doesn't bother you, but warning for everyone else for lots of mentions of sexual assault under cut.

Galehaut/Lancelot (Arthurian legend)

Alright, despite his obsession, Galehaut is not a creep, but there is so much UST in the scene where he spends all the night watching him sleep that IF they got together they'd sure recreate it. It suits Lancelot's hang-ups too.

2. Oscar/Zenigata (Lupin III)

Alright, Oscar IS a creep, and you know what, he totally would. It's the only way I can see it happening, honestly. ^^

3. Knives/Legato (Trigun)

I'm less sure about this one happening, because damn, Legato has self-control, but also, he had to watch him heal for literal years, and he has a twisted sense of sex and autonomy to say the least. Also, I ship it hard, the creepiest the better

4. Asuna/Fueko (The feelings we all must endure)

A consensual version, for once. I'm sure they have tried this, in a way to make agree Fueko's chronic fatigue and Asuna's unending lust. I'm also sure it wasn't satisfying, but it would be interesting.

5. Mac/Beaver (Veronica Mars)

The canon version of it, and damn, was it a creepy betrayal. I used to love the ship, though, and after I still loved it, but very differently.

6. Izzy/Ed (Our flag means death)

I think we talked about it, that I had this creepy bunny of Izzy insisting that it's only for Ed's sake he lets himself be fucked (he lies) and Ed is like, well, you wouldn't mind if I fucked you while you're opium-drugged then, and Izzy not wanting to change his mind, and... I can't believe it's technically consensual. Consent for all the wrong reasons.

7. Scorpius/John

The creepy mad scientist/subject of experiment version. There was noncon surgery. I don't trust Scorpius to be mild about it.

8. Chloe/Kirika (Noir)

Chloe kisses Kirika when she's amenesiac, she sure would kiss her while she's asleep.

9. Lupin/Jigen (Lupin III)

This time I'm sure it was a headcanon we had together. The sharing a bed and Lupin is a freak while he's asleep porn bunny (I won't say plot bunny)

10. Seishirou/Subaru (Tokyo Babylon)

When I was very new in fandom I read a fic with a scene like this, and damn, it marked me.

[aintgonnatakethis]

tell me about aliens made them do it and what big teeth you have pls + ty <3

Thanks for the ask! 😄

What Big Teeth You Have

@judgeverse and I were talking about an idea they were thinking of writing, with Telford as a werewolf! It wormed its way into my brain and I had to get the opening scene out of me, even if I was never going to post it because it was their idea. So I go into it with the outlook of possibly using being a werewolf as an allegory for queerness (extremely very much NOT in the JKR style!) But I got towards the end of the scene and I'm torn between the humour and the crack of where I've found myself. Werewolves can go loaf-mode too! 😂

Something about that struck Rush as very much not an answer, but he didn't have time to refute it as the sound of boots coming down a neighbouring corridor reached their ears. Young twisted at the waist, keeping one hand on Telford's back and grabbing for a blanket with the other. Rush watched with something akin to fascination as Telford tucked his paws beneath his body and sank to the floor, allowing Young to throw the blanket over him. What they ended up with was something that was vaguely rectangular, as long as you didn't come at it from the wrong angle. Or look too closely.

Aliens made them do it - tw: noncon, nsfw text, kink

Sometime last year I got a request for Rush dominating Young. I ended up filling it with a consensual OT3 fic, but the classic 'aliens made them do it' trope was where my brain first went and I made a bunch of notes before getting distracted. Rush and Young are kidnapped by aliens, who deem Young to be the more, uh… virile of the two of them and go about this by hooking him up to a milking machine to 'extract genetic material'. 👍 Rush doesn't notice a great deal while it's going on other than being terrified he'll be next and making sure they don't injure Young, but he thinks back on it after all is said and done and realises how NOT terrified Young was... In fact, he puts two and two together and comes to the conclusion that Young was guiltily enjoying being tied up and dominated. A gap in my notes as to how the fuck he approaches Young and convinces him, but it leads to them fucking proper with Rush in full Dom Mode. Here's one of the few pieces I've got written that isn't pure filth.

"Rush?" he heard Young say. "Rush!" The man was craning his head to the side in an attempt to get eyes on him. "Just stay quiet, okay?" Rush almost sneered at the self-sacrificing attitude, pathetic in its predictability, only he didn't want to be subjected to the same treatment that Young was currently suffering. If he could fade into the background and not draw attention to himself, what were the odds they'd leave him unmolested? If their positions were reversed Young would assuredly not stay quiet and meek, he knew, which made him feel a mixture of condemnation for the stupidity it would require and embarrassment because Young would be brave and Rush wanted to be that but he wanted to survive more.

WIP game

[kingsofneon]

faq

Ships that aren’t my jam thnx

cora//law

nami//any male chara

robin//luffy / zoro / sanj (franky and brook and nams are free game for robin ships, as are non-strawhats)

franky//any strawhat (except robin)

chopper or carrot//anyone. 

not a big fan of law//lu or zo//san (but i love zolulaw and zolusan lmfao so. hilariously the turning point is zoro in zolulaw and lu in zolusan lmao)

zo//lu will basically always be heavily implied sex-neu luf and i love it very much

not a big fan of age difference prompts (ie. stuff that heavily focuses on experience & lack thereof / daddy kink esque stuff. teacher student got me like 😬)

[that being said I lowkey rlly like dof//lu and croco//lu lmfao]

I got asked abt smoker//tashigi and mihawk//perona and I think I could maybe do smoker/tash but I don't vibe with hawk/perona sorz

Don't talk to me abt deu//ace, bad experience being harassed by fans ✌️ there r one person who can ask me for them and he knows who he is lolol

Bad Things

mpreg (ovipos is fine ‘cause there’s a level of magic/no pregnancy and tentacle/slime monsters are Good Shit)

minor//adult (🤢), and espec, like, rlly bad/blatant power differences like teacher/student (you get one warning and then ill fucking block you. t/s is a big no-go, it squicks me super bad)

different if it’s in a scene or roleplay, but like, you better specify. You get ONE. WARNING. 🔪

nottttt a big fan of dd//lg. Yandere is different but i write it more possessive then obsessive/i think ace is into the fact that sabo's a bit of a freak 😂

non-con/dub-con is more complicated it’s basically at my own Discretion. I do like cnc but it gets tagged, so if you don’t like it, block the tags. dub-con is only bc in some scenes ((like and the heat is burning wild or a cold and sleeping beauty)) it might be more implied/take a while to be specific. Idk? tags will be noncon / dub con / cnc (consensual nonconsent) depending on the vibes.

if i see anyone referring to anything as sin i swear i’ll just delete the ask

same goes for uke//seme//fujoshi//yaoi [dont do it.] [I dont like it.] [I think defining ur ships by who bottoms is kinda dumb + i like introspection and character driven porn so it doesnt pass my vibe check]

im not writing anymore ‘loss of virginity’. especially not for m/m ships. y’all have lost your privileges. Femships have more leeway bc it's cute and also. I just don't like woobifying which is like, what seems to be the Goal of virginity kink, idk. 0/10

Good Things

mas

praise kink

cnc 😳 sowwy

nam//tash or robin//koala

overstimulation

prompts w/ more info rather than just “bondage + ship”

i said no mpreg but consentacles and ovipos is fine

THIS 👏 IS 👏A 👏 KINK 👏 BLOG (for god’s sake take pity on me and send kinks, not just requests for x and y having sex.)

these [1 2 3 4] were my favourite type of asks to answer. i want to show what i mean when i say i like specificity - not that they have to be every-detail specific, but that they prompt a scenario to headcanon/write for. that’s the Good Kush

General Notes

Specify ships etc. in your ask ✌ otherwise i write whatever i want atm lol and it'll probably be mas, but it also makes it helpful to me

no but legit tho specifying ur ships gets rid of a lot of the anxiety i feel abt doing reqs

also if you do “sabo is spanked by marco after losing a bet” you’re more likely to get a req than if you just do “sabo+spanking” or smth like that

Femslash is fucking pathetic and apparently noone will even req it so now im gonna just take fucking reqs and make em femslash if i want ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i only rlly write what i have inspo for lmao so if i dont get ur req done soz.

Feel free to ask abt any aus whenever. i. Miss interacting w/ ppl 🥲

[fourthwingingit]

Uncoupling fandom from sexual art because of the hyper sanitization of social media has done genuine harm to my psyche and I'm not joking. I will put an explanation under the cut if anyones gives a fuck

Hey so im a CSA survivor. For those who dont know what that means it is Childhood Sexual Assult. I was so young i dont recall an unawareness of myself as a sexualized being against my wiill.

And my first positive portrayals of sex/sexuality were from fandom. The first time i felt genuine arousal i was afraid of what people would do to me if they found out, and i stopped reading the fic.... for a while. But the story was so good, and it was just.... one sex scene..... and nobody was hurting ANYONE (somehow). So i guess i could see how the prince got out of his loveless political marriage to the princess of the neighboring kingdom.

This continued for years, until i feel comfortable with reading all kinds of sexual acts. And then i discovered the art! Oh my god! The visuals did something for me that the wornds never could! And itwas drawn so no real humans COULD have been harmed in the making of this! And as a bonus it was my prince/guard anime boys who i already thought of as being deeply in love! I followed as many horny artists as i could just to get to see what some of them can even imagine!

4 years passed like this. Then the porn ban. I had no way of finding consensual kinky art. So i tried hentai, as genuinely human made porn scared me (since i was (and am) too broke to pay for 100% garenteed ethical porn). My thought process was "if nobody can be hurt doing it, it must be the same right?" I was so wrong

I never knew there were so many ways to hate women while still fucking them and i never knew there were so many ways to hurt people. Every depiction of someone had 0 investment in the person. They were a disposable avatar for degradation and lust. Which is great for someone, but when you were raised on tbe idea that sex = violence.... that gets really bad really quickly.

I quickly found myself in darker and darker shit that felt (in retrospect) less and less like someones kink, and more and more like "how i punish the dirty whores and stuck up prudes who turn me down". It wasnt until i found an artist who did work with an oc (very hardcore noncon stuff) that i started to see the difference.

You see sometimes after the artist (I'm gonna call them T) puts their OC through the ringer, they walk away with money and a smile sayinf "same time next week?" Or occasionally you'll see T's oc put on the outfit and theres this suspension of disbelief that happens and its obviously p0rn logic now. The oc is NOT an unloved vessil for punishment (tho he does get punished and fucked like he isnt loved) the creator obviously cares about their well-being! And while humiliation, degrading boundaries, and literally what T calls "oc abuse" is part of it, there is a definite difference between T's portrayal of their oc and say- how randohent1lvrz69 treats busty anime babe no. 224 when the goblin hoards come a knockin.

This is not to say that randohent1lvrz69 COULDN'T be treating busty anime babe no.224 with the same care as T, but im saying its WAY harder to find healthy sexual representation, or less hardcore representation, in art BECAUSE of the forced sanitization of fandom. And that forces people like me to find really unsafe places to tey to reeducate ourselves

[cookinguptales]

oh also just a reminder that the offer for giftfic is still open.

I used to do yuletide and the trick-or-treat exchange every year, but stopped for Various Reasons. still, I have a void in me that can only be filled by writing people bespoke fiction as holiday gifts.

I like the puzzle of deciding how to write something to somewhat narrow specifications! I like knowing at least one person what I'm writing! I like making people happy!

the past few years, in lieu of doing exchanges I've instead offered up fic requests near the end of the year. that's actually how I got started writing nandermo to start with, haha.

so uhhhh if you've ever wanted a fic from me, hmu? I can't promise anything (I... have been very tired lately) but if you know I like a pairing/canon, feel free to ask me for it. origific is fine, too, as long as you have some basic idea in mind.

some more guidelines (such as what I need in a request and things I don't like to write) under the cut

I will not write anything graphically NSFW about underage characters

I will not write even non-graphic adult/minor

I don't want to write noncon, though I'll consider dubcon depending on the characters and what you want. (i.e. sex pollen or whatever? generally fine. combative (but enjoyed) dubcon for characters who have complicated relationships in canon? generally fine. but don't ask me for like....... muppet dubcon or something. I say this because it has been asked.)

I mean honestly I just don't want to write anything super dark for any lighthearted canon, not for the holidays. like.... again, I say this because I have been asked. please don't ask me for muppet tortureporn. not again.

no kinks involving (non-typically sexual) bodily fluids. no shade, it's just a squick for me. this includes bloodplay except for vampires. I guess that's an obvious exception.

honestly, I just reserve the right to be like "nah, that's not my thing" for any kink/pairing. I wanna make you happy, but not by writing something that squicks me.

oh I also don't wanna write PIV lmao

finally, I don't usually like writing characters as being part of a marginalized group they aren't in in canon. (see: non-canon disability, non-canon racebending, non-canon genderswaps, etc.) if they are that thing in canon, that's fine. I just don't usually enjoy writing that kind of AU.

uhhhhh other than that, hmu. I really don't have THAT much I won't write, I just wanted to be kind of exhaustive in the things I don't like writing so I won't waste both of our time.

as for what to send me, I really just ask that you tell me the kind of thing you like and don't like (so it's a gift for you) while giving me prompts that aren't super detailed. the more wiggle room you give me, the better the fic will probably be. a sentence or two? fine. 500 words or something, with tons of details and specific scenes in mind? at that point, you've kind of already written it. lmao

anyway, the sooner you get me a request, the more likely I'll be able to write it by the end of the year.

(though... *looks pointedly at Smoke* sometimes they just take longer to write but still get posted eventually. lmao)

[barnes-n-nobles]

Temper (Dark! Druig Smut)

Request:  please another dark! druig smut 😍

Thank you for your request! Please reblog, like, and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, noncon smut, kind of somnophilia, a bit of degrating, Druig has anger issues, breeding kink

Summary: Druig meets you at an event in the Stark Tower. He grows overly fond of you, almost to an obsession. 

18+ !!!! If you “keep reading” you are acknowledging that you are 18+ and that you have read the warnings.

Please Do not translate, no permission to repost any of my writing on any other platform, and do not copy this and claim it as your own.

“I don’t understand why we’re here. These parties are pathetic” Druig complained as he walked with the rest of the eternals through the Stark tower. “You think everything is pathetic Druig. Suck it up it’s for a good cause” Ikaris retorted. Druig let out a sarcastic scoff, “Good cause..you know they get a fat tax break if they label anything as a charity event. This isn’t because it’s in the goodness of their hearts, all rich humans are greedy conniving pieces of-” “Enough Druig. Behave” Ajak ordered. “I know this isn’t your scene but I greatly appreciate you coming here with us. It’s just for today and then you are free to do as you please.” She reassured making Druig soften up, nodding his head, understanding.

As the night when on everyone met each other and dinner was soon to be served. Druig spent most of his time walking around trying to avoid everyone. He is used to being surrounded with people who make him feel comfortable and perfectly controlled. The lack of was making it hard for him to stay calm. He walked around mad, his aura making it difficult for people to approach him. Eventually that became the goal for him. Druig got tired of all this and decided to bail, not caring what the rest of his family would say. As he got up from his seat Thena grabbed his hand, “where to?”. Druig swallowed not wanting to seem suspicious, “I’m just going to the bathroom, wanna join? I’m sure you can touch up your makeup there too” He joked making her chuckle, “not a chance. Hurry and come back, Kingo is going to preform soon” she said letting him go. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he sarcastically retorted before heading out.

When he got down to the lobby he controlled some guy in the bathroom to give him his clothes. He took them and erased the encounter from the guys mind. He was now in a leather jacket, pants, boots, and some pretty cool glasses that he got from homeboy in the bathroom. As he was walking out he heard his name being called out. Not in a way to get his attention but it was spoken out in conversation.

Thats when he saw you. Talking fast into the phone, rushing to get somewhere. “I don’t care. I got this little part time gig so that I can see him, I’m not missing out this opportunity just to go to a lame ass party. If Druig ain’t there then IM NOT GOING. I gotta go I’m incredibly late” you barked ending the call and heading towards the elevators. When you crossed him, it was as if you were walking in slow motion. You were captivating. Beautiful would be an understatement, you just exuded it in his eyes. You had the most beautiful eyes, hair, lips. Absolute perfection from head to toe. And to top it all off, you were there for him? He thought to himself not really understanding why anyone would want to see him. He decided it would be best to make at least 1 person happy so he followed you. When you got to the elevator, the door was about to close but then a hand stopped it making you jump at the sound. “Sorry, im going up too” he said smiling. He was expecting for you to fan girl, scream, cry, literally anything girls did when meeting their idols but you just nodded and went back to your phone, not really looking at him. “Going up to the charity event?” He spoke after a couple seconds of silence. “Yes! I’m working it until midnight, how about you?” Asking him and then turning to face him.

There was something super familiar about him, but you couldn’t really tell. You stared at him in a concentrated state trying to remember where the hell you could have seen him. “I’m in it as well. Sort of” he smiled trying to see if you would catch on. “Hopefully we work together! I literally don’t know anyone I’m only here because I want to see all of the eternals in person. They’re so cool” you confessed letting go of your attempt to try and figure him out. Druig smiled making the lines around his eyes apparent, you were so incredibly cute and sweet too? Such a prize. “All of them?” He asked nudging you with his elbow. You giggled, playfully pushing him with your hand, “Okay fine..you got me I’m here for only one in particular. I don’t know he just gives off really nice vibes. Not to mention incredibly hot. Like damn, let me have your babies you know” you joked following it with a light laugh. Druigs eyes widened and his mouth opened to form an O. He was so shocked at what had just come out of your mouth. He quickly felt his body get hot and his jeans started to feel a little tight. “Don’t act so shocked! We’re all thinking it. I mean this man has to have like a million girlfriends” you said again. Druig couldn’t believe you STILL couldn’t figure out who he was. He took his glasses off, staring right into your eyes. “I don’t actually” smirking.

Now it was your turn to drop your mouth to an O. He couldn’t be. Could he? You asked yourself. Druig eyes flashed gold letting out a gentle chuckle, “It is me” he said holding out his hand, his palm facing up, waiting for you to place yours into it. It finally hit you…hard. You couldn’t believe what was happening. This was something that happened in dreams, but it felt so real. Then it dawned on you what you had said a bit ago, your face burning in embarrassment. “Oh…my..God…I am so so sorry. I’m so sorry…I didn’t know it was you! I didn’t mean to disrespect you like that I’m so sorry ugh” you babbled taking your hands and covering your face in embarrassment . Druig just laughed taking your hands in his, “please don’t be sorry, I thought it was really funny. You’re the first mortal to make me feel this flattered” he said taking your hand in his and giving the top of it a kiss as he originally intended. His soft lips were moist when they landed on your hand, and the way he looked at you while he did it…w0w..you were in heaven.

The elevator finally opened at the very top floor and it was time to go your separate ways, “Well Druig it was so nice to meet you. I guess my plans are now exposed so I’ll see you during the event! Hopefully we can talk again soon. I already signed up for this thing so now I have to go through with it. Anyways my name is y/n, it was so nice to finally meet you” you said extending your hand so that he could shake it. Druig smiled and took your hand, but pulled you into a hug instead. He squeezed you tightly, rubbing his hand up and down your back making you get goosebumps. “Pleasure is all mine, my sweet y/n” he whispered before letting you go and exiting the elevator.

With each step that he took he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to keep you by his side, learn about you , see inside your mind. He wanted to be yours and for you to be only his. When he regrouped with the others, Sersi quickly noticed his change of attire. “What happened to your clothes?” She questioned making everyone else turn. “I think he looks great” Kingo said making Druig laugh. “I felt more comfortable in this. I just gave my clothes to a fan and they left, happily.” He lied. “ quote on quote “fan” he probably forced them to” Gilgamesh said smiling. Ajak took a deep breath, “No more of your tricks Druig. Just behave!” She scolded again. Druig just nodded, but wondered how long he would be able to do so when you were roaming around here somewhere.

When it was time for desert you had to go to each table and ask if they were having any. Being that this event was for the Eternals you were sent to them first, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to them. You knew Druig was there, making you excited yet nervous. “Good evening everyone, I hope you’re having a great time here at the Stark tower. Would anyone be interested in some dessert” you asked. You could feel Druigs eyes on you, your peripheral vision catching the slightest sight of him facing you. As you got everyone’s orders you passed by him smiling when both of you made eye contact. His flirty self decided to wink at you, making your face flare up, giggling as you passed. No one noticed as everyone was too busy and entertained in conversation, except for one. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you got a thing for the hostess” Kingo said making Druigs head snap toward him and ripping his eyes from you as you walked away. “I don’t. Mind your own business” he said taking a sip of his drink.

“Dude you know she’s taken right?” Kingo said in a dead serious tone, making Druigs face turn into stone. “She’s not” he stated firmly, feeling himself getting mad. “Yes she is! I literally saw her making out with captain America’s best friend..Bucky I think they call him” he explained. No this couldn’t be, could it? He felt dumb because he didn’t ask if you were taken or even see in your mind if you were. His anger got the best of him, gripping his hand too hard on the glass he shattered it making everyone turn around. Kingo mouthed a “what the fuck” giving his napkin over to Druig. “I was kidding! The hell is wrong with you” he whispered. Ajak saw the bloody cut on his hand and quickly healed him, “Go take a walk and clean yourself up. Don’t come back until you’re ready to act right” she instructed, reassuring everyone that it was just an accident. Kingo felt guilty, maybe messing with him like that wasn’t the best idea, “let me help” he said getting up to follow. “No..I want to be alone” Druig barked leaving the room while Kingo sat back down.

He tried to remember where he saw you disappear to and he remembered you were going towards the huge kitchens. He wiped his hands off before entering, eyes scanning for you. You were rushing trying to get everything nice and making sure the plating was perfect. “Are you busy?” A familiar voice called making you smile. “Never for you. How can I help” you asked turning on your heels. Druig melted at how loving and flirty you were. Just making it that much easier to fall for you. “Can I talk to you..in private” he asked motioning with his head that he wanted to take you outside. “Sure! But we have to hurry because these need to go out in 2 minutes” you explained. “I’m gonna need more time than that” he said motioning to the desert coordinator to come to him. “Take these out on time and excuse y/n for her absence the rest of the night. She’s taking care of some personal matters that have come up suddenly” he told him, his eyes turning to gold making the coordinator nod in agreement as he turned away. It was your first time seeing something like this, it was so fascinating. You’d only heard of his ability to control minds, you never thought that you would be the one seeing it this close up. Druig grabbed your hand and started pulling you out with him, swimming through the huge crowd of chefs, servers, and carts of food. “I can’t believe you just did that! It was so cool” you praised as he finally got you two out. “ we’ll believe it sweetheart, It’s my specialty” he said pulling you in to a room that seemed to be an office. “I noticed..now, what did you want to tell me” you asked impatiently, shaking his arm for him to tell you.

“I’m sorry of this is too blunt but are you seeing someone?” he asked softly, as he placed his hands on your cheek. You shook your head, your beautiful eyes looking up at his, a smile tugging at your lips. “That’s good” he said bringing you close to him, “Because now youre mine” He said, voice barely above a whisper. It’s sounded like he was joking but he also sounded a bit serious. “Druig..We just met. What if I’m not up to your standards?” You confessed hoping that he wouldn’t be turned off by this. “My beautiful y/n..I’m choosing you because you’re so captivating. I just can’t stop thinking about you. It’s been a very looong time since I’ve felt like this. It just feel so right ” he said bringing you into a soft kiss. His lips were so soft and plushy it made you want more. As he was pulling away you reconnected the kiss, this time Druig being caught by surprise. It didn’t take long for him to take the lead again, pushing you against a wall, he started to kiss you with hunger. He needed more of you, lifting your leg up as he ground himself into you, making you moan into him. It was all happening so fast so you broke away from the kiss, “Druig.. I think we should take it slow?” You asked looking at his needy state, his eyes laced with lust and noticeably darker. “I’m sorry y/n..I’m sorry.. youre just so intoxicating I want you so badly” he said pushing himself onto you again. “I want you to! But please I want you to get to know me better. I want to be worthy of you, a grand eternal. Please let’s us take it slow” you pleaded. Druig came back to his senses and remembered where the two of you were. He forgot how good it felt to want someone so deeply, he just lost a little control. Something he wasn’t very used to.

“Of course y/n, let’s take our time. But I have one tiny condition” he said holding his fingers to signify something little. “Yes anything!” You exclaimed. “You have to be my girlfriend, and I your boyfriend. Starting today” he stated. Thinking of it you let out a soft hum, wondering if this would be good. “I promise we’ll go slow on everything, I just don’t want anyone else to have you but me. That’s understandable right?” He said lovingly a he fixed your hair. “Okay Druig we can! But don’t be going all nascar fast on me. Remember..slowww” you motioned with your hands, joking. He laughed and smiled, “anything you want love but you might have to remind me one more time or two..or three” he said pecking your lips.

~~~~a month later~~~~~~~

As you two got familiar with each other it was as if you two were a match made in heaven. He was just incredible to you. He supported you like no one else had done in the past and protected you from anything, and everyone. He was so flirty most of the time but the thing that made you fall deep for him was how caring he was. Everything you’d ever wanted was bottled up and packaged nicely in Druig. On the flip side Druig was consumed by you. He loved everything about you, not wanting to share you with no one. He eventually convinced you to spend most of your time with him , not that you needed a lot of convincing, but he made it feel so comfortable for you to choose him over others. He loved to have you with him always and borderline begged you to sleep over. You thought it was so cute of him to be so clingy but it was soon to change as his obsession got deeper.

You were contacted for another event at the Stark tower and you were going to be working all evening until late at night. Druig was not pleased with this as he didn’t like you being out alone, specially at night. Your cute and flirty personality would certainly draw in unnecessary attention to you, making Druig feel restless as he waited for you to come home. He decided to just head to his house as he was tired of waiting in yours, but he was upset. In his mind he thought it would be a good idea to check in. He wanted to see where you were and what you were up to you. You were clearly busy because you didn’t answer him after the all the calls and texts he sent. He summoned many minds at once to try and find you, not taking long to do so. He was able to reach a person that was near you and Druig was able to listen in on what you were telling your coworkers. “you should totally come with us to the bar after work. Im sure your man wont mind” she tried to convince. “I dont think thats such a good idea, hes already very protective. The last thing I want is for him to be upset with me. Hes wanting me to head home right after work” you explained with a disappointed tone. Why though? Did you actually want to go be a slut for free drinks? Druigs mind was already starting to unravel with negative thoughts.

 “Thats so lame y/n, you never go out anymore. Ever since you started dating him, hes got you so trapped. Im guessing sex must be out of this world if hes trying to keep you that badly” she joked making you look down , as you fixed up a plate. “Actually we havent even had sex yet. I told him when we first started dating that I wanted to take things slow. Yeah we get all horny and touchy but I stop it. I think im ready though, I just dont know how to go about it” you confessed, now looking up at your coworker. She had a very surprised expression on her face, “Damn sis, no sex yet and hes being like this? Reedd flag” she said shaking her head in disapproval. Druigs temper has never been the best but this conversation here made him see red. He thought youd be able to confide in him, not vent to some raggedy coworker. Specially about sex. Hes been waiting far too long for you. During those Late nights, he pleasures himself thinking of all the ways he would make you his. How you would moan when he was deep inside you, unravelling under him. “Fuck me Druig..fuck me hard Daddy” the lewd image was burned into his mind, just imagining how fucking submissive youd be for him. So perfect. He had to dig into your mind a couple times to learn how you wanted to be treated during sex, what kinks you were into. The best feeling was when he found out that your kinks mirrored his own. He let go of the person that was listening to you and shifted in his seat back home, trying to readjust his hardened member. There's only so much a person can take, but tonight he had enough. You were going to be his in every way possible. He planned to explain it to you that he could no longer wait, and that he would promise to make it unforgettable.

When your shift was over you headed home. You called Druig and it sent you straight to voicemail. This was not good, he was surely upset. You were so tired from the nights work so you just let him be and hoped that he would cool off in the morning. When you got home, you took a hot fast shower and got into bed. Not a minute after you fell asleep, finally feeling pleased that you were going to rest. Druig eventually made his way back to your house, quickly slipping in as he had a key to your front door that you hid under the welcome matt. He was going to wake you up but as he was about to wake you, he heard you moan his name, making him freeze. “mmm Druig babyy..” your soft low voice grumbled. “y/n?” he whispered not sure if you were awake or asleep. “Daddy pleaaasee” you mewled as your hips shifting up slightly. He could not believe it, you were thinking about him in your sleep. You were having a wet dream. All of Druigs morals disappeared, knowing damn well what he was about to do to you. His eyes soon glowed gold as he kept you deep in sleep, but let your conscious go enough to feel what was going to happen. He uncovered you from the blanket and to his surprise you were wearing nothing. He licked his lips at the site, you were so perfect. He undressed himself and climbed into bed with you, his lips connecting with yours. You felt his lips on yours, making them move ever so slightly. Druig smiled as your body gave in to him willingly, encouraging him to go further. 

His lips went to your jaw, down to your neck where he took his time marking you. Feeling the sensation made you shiver, letting out soft moans. “My dirty little girl...youre so wet for Daddy and I havent even touched you up all the way” he grunted into your neck. In your mind, this was a dream. The most realistic and erotic dream, you felt in paradise. “I want y-” you stammered not being able to form a full sentence. “darling im going to give it to you so good, but Daddy needs to feel your yummy little mouth on his cock” he said positioning himself up. He supported his body with a knee right beside your head, his other leg was up, giving himself the ability to dip down his cock into your mouth. He grabbed your face and made you part your lips, pushing himself past them. “Suck me princess” he said, making you hollow your cheeks slightly as your mouth attempted to take him. Druig moaned and shuttered at the feeling of your hot wet mouth. He knew you would be better at this if you were awake but he couldnt have that right now so he settled with what you were giving him. A few pumps in and his dick was wet from your saliva, “youre such a good slut for Daddy, even when youre sleeping” he praised. He got up and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip along your wet folds, making you squeal and move your hips away. Druig smirked as he held them down, “where you going love, im about to tear into your needy little cunt” he darkly chuckled pushing himself inside you. Your face contorted in pleasure, panting at the feeling of being so completely full. Druig hissed at your tightness, leaning down to wrap his arm around you. His nose and mouth twitched at the feeling, his hips rolling into you as he held you. “Daddyy” you moaned, encouraging him to go faster. 

“My kitten..youre taking Daddy so so good” he whispred into your ear. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, the wet sound of him ramming into you was music to his ears. You were making a mess and he loved it. He held you as he fucked into you, whispering sweet nothings into  the crook of your neck. The feeling was too much, specially when your sweet moans were right in his ear. He was pushing into your gspot with every thrust he did, it eventually pushed you to orgasm, grunting as your body trembled in pleasure. With your erotic moans, he just couldnt control himself, “fuck y/n..im going to cum inside you..my breedable pet” he growled before spilling himself inside you, staying still as he drained himself inside you.He kissed your soft lips as he rode out his high, pushing his seed deeper and deeper inside of you.  When he finally pulled out, he cleaned you and himself up before slipping back into bed and falling asleep cuddling you. 

The next morning your eyes fluttered open looking at the sun that was poking in from your window. When your consciousness came back you remembered your dream about Druig. It felt so good and real, would it be a good idea to even bring it up? I mean he could see inside your mind one day as see that in there. As you were debating with yourself you rolled over only to stop midway. You quickly sat up scared, not knowing who it was immediately, “oh my god! D-Druig is that you?” you asked looking at his body, his eyes still closed. Your eyes roamed his body, you noticed he was shirtless and that the outline of his dick was showing under the thin bed sheet. He was totally naked! “Goodmorning beautiful..yes its me.” he said with his voice husky and full of sleep. “How did you get in here? wait when did you even come?” Druigs eyes finally opened, side eyeing you before closing them again, “The key under the matt. Stop asking questions, lets sleep some more” he said grabbing you and pulling you on top of him. “let me go..you cant just sleep here without telling me” you said getting off of him now feeling angry. 

With your anger, his followed. Before you got off the bed, he pulled you back  by your hair and pushed you down underneath him, his hands pinning yours on either sides of your head. “you better fix your attitude before I fuck it out of you. You havent been behaving lately” he said making you confused. “What do you mean?” Druig rolled his eyes, “you talking shit about our relationship to your coworker” he snarled, his grip tightening. “Druig please..i wasn't talking shit, and how do you even know about that. Did you go inside my head?” you asked, alluding to the fact that he couldnt do it because he promised not to. “I didn't have to, I have eyes and ears everywhere, have you forgotten?” he smirked. “Just let me go, I want to be alone” you said that last part barely above a whisper. Druig scanned your face, smirking and shaking his head in disapproval. “Thats not what you wanted last night. I recall you begging for me, princess” he teased placing a kiss on your lips. You didnt know what to say. “It was just a dream” you managed to get out. “are you sure about that? You felt pretty real to me kitten” he moaned as his hips were grinding into yours. What was he talking about? You were literally asleep...unless, “You didnt..” you whispered trying hard to get up. 

Druig laughed at your sweet attempts, “Oh baby..but I did and it was amazing. But dont worry, youll be awake for this one” he said pushing your legs apart with his knee, giving him direct access to your pussy. “No!..how could you” you cried moving your face from side to side so that he couldnt kiss you. Next thing you saw were his eyes turn golden, your body stopped its fighting. “Dont act all decent. I know you want me baby..Daddy wants you so much. Now you better act right, I dont want to have to get aggressive..” he said kissing your neck “unless thats what you want” he whispered making you get goosebumps. As he released you, his eyes changed back to blue his hands roamed over your body and stopped at your breasts, he groped them making you whine when his fingers played with your nipples. “Let me ride you” you abruptly said, making his dick twitch in excitement. “Thats my girl” he praised letting you get up. You brought him to your lips kissing him passionately, his hands pulling you on top of him, before you pushed him down. As you were straddling him, you got the idea to run. You swung your leg over and started to run towards the door. As you went for the knob, Druig grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back, making you fall to the ground. 

At that point you were scared, not knowing what he would do next. Druig bent down to you and grabbed your neck, keeping your head still and touching the ground. “You almost got me y/n, but I will always overpower you darling. Theres no need to fight me. I told you since the beginning, youre mine and only mine. Just take it and accept it” he said squeezing your neck. Your mouth fell open as you tried to breath, but to no avail. “I dont care if I have to break you. Ive been so patient for you, but now its my turn to do things my way. Do you understand me?” he said letting you go, making you cough as you sucked in as much air as possible. “ill give you 2 seconds to respond” he threatened. “Yyes..I Understand” you replied weakly. Druig flipped you over and held your hands behind your back. “Good girl” he said as he propped your ass up, “Last night I fucked you nice and good baby, I intend to do the same every single day from here on out. The only difference is that you'll be awake to enjoy every second of it. Your greedy little pussy is already soaking for me, just how I want it” he added. 

When he slid inside you, it felt so familiar, so deliciously full. You couldn't help but moan, truly disappointed at the way your own body was betraying you. “Thats right baby...Daddy has you filled up to the brim” he voiced full of lust. He grabbed your hips and started ramming into you, making you grunt out as he stretched you. Your face was on the cold floor, moving up and down slightly as he pounded into you. “God youre so fucking tight, I knew your juicy little cunt would never disappoint... Tell me who you belong to y/n” he demanded smacking your ass. “You Druig..” you babbled, your drool starting to pool under your lips. His hand hit your soft cheek a harder, “Try again, you know what I want to hear” he said thrusting harder into you. “Aaah..DD-Dadddyyy I belong to you Daddy” you stuttered too deep in your own pleasure. “youre going stupid kitten. My poor dumb little kitty is so full of cock that she cant even speak right. Thats all youre good for love, to lay there all ready for me to fuck and use, like a toy. Isn't that right baby” he  demeaned you. You couldnt even speak, all that you were able to mutter out was a simple, “mmhm”. Your brain not wanting to let coherent words escape your mouth. All his words were too much, the way he talked to you made you cum. The pleasure was too much, and you squirted all over the floor. Druig pulled out of you, watching the way you collapsed on the floor, shaking. It was a sight he knew would never leave his mind. It made him want to do it again. 

He bent down to your ear and whispered, “Who said you could cum?” making your eyes shoot open. He picked you up and tossed you back up into the bed. “For being a naughty girl that doesnt ask before she cums, youll need to be punished.” he stated, a sinister smile plastered all over his face. The last thing you saw was his eyes turn gold, then everything went black. You could still hear him and feel around though, “I cant see” you panicked when realizing that your eyes were still open. “Oh I know baby, I blinded you. Now lay back and relax. Im going to have some more fun with you but remeber my rule. Do.Not.Cum, unless I say so ” 

[priwritesstuff]

love like u

Jack the ripper! Diluc x (f) reader

T/W : Noncon ; Masculine body reader ; Torture ; Diluc Is a Maniac ; Yandere Themes ; Misogyny ; Breeding kink; hair pulling ; choking ; asphyxiation ; Choking ; Generally alot of Dark kinks. (Reader has female sexual organs) ; reader has a sword as a weapon ; reader got parental issues dawg ; Diluc is very delusional

MINORS DNI!. 18+! Not proof read!

Monstadt had been feeling different lately.

The feeling of dread clouded Mondstadt.

Why? It was such a Cheerful City till now?

Well There have been numerous cases of people being murdered, Okay They are always Girls getting killed, and the girls mostly had intercourse before they died. Presumably, The killer raped the girls and killed them, The knights have been working day and night to trace down some leads convincing enough to punish but none came forward.

The killer had no pattern of killing. The victims had no connections to each other, they were complete strangers to each others. No specific day he killed, No specific weapon, No specific Location or person. Just some gruesome scenes.

The Knights cheerfulness had been put off by the recent events, Well they had to be ready for such crimes, Usually all they would get are petty roberies, pets being missing, hillichuruls, abyss mages,etc.

You moved to Mondstadt from Fontaine to escape past grievances and to "start a new life" will you ever be able to though? You were a Fighter. Precisely, a Gladiator. Trained in Natlan to fight and achieve victory. You were No idiot afterall too, you were great in academics. A strong yet diligent woman.

You lacked one thing though, The sweet soft persona girls were told to uphold.

What men liked.

Your dad and mother were always too harsh because you were too defiant.

You were a Child of a Great Noble family in Fontaine! But did anyone know what went on behind the beautiful and shimmering marble mansion walls?

You were raised, as said by your mother "To marry into Royalty, Bare his children and continue his family, Raise his children, please him."

Basically, You were raised a woman for a man. Nothing greater than that, eh?

Your Master had asked you that one day while kicking and fighting with you.

"Yes" you replied while earning a blow on him.

Those days hold a special place in your heart, Not your family.

Moving to Monstadt was a good decision afterall, Life was peaceful around here. Good people & Good atmosphere. It was what Monstadt was courteous with.

"Kaeya, Any leads on the tavern Investigation?" Jean asked in a fustrated huff. She clearly was so tired from overworking herself, Poor her.

"No" Kaeya mustered

You were on the chair, Thinking about the case, Truly rattling one of course. The killer had been so careful about every move, Everything calculated. By what you were assuming, The killer was a trained fighter. The only fighters in Monstadt were those of the knights, You truly didn't want to think that but you were prepared for the worst scenario.

One person missed to Interrogate! Him! Why didn't you think of him before!

Of course him, as in Diluc Ragnvindr.

The Darknight hero Of Monstadt, Protecting the precious city whilst hiding in the shadows.

"Jean, I'll be off, Got some interrogation to do"

"With whom, Y/N?"

"Can't say right now, It'll be all clear"

"And how can we belive your vague statement for "interrogation"? What if you just wanted to skip work?" Kaeya spoke. With his slick tongue.

"Don't belive me if you don't want to, Kaeya. And Master Jean, I promise that this answer would lead to some clues, Let me do my job once"

"I know I am new, And might have not gained full trust but I promise-"

"I believe you, Y/N" "You may go." Jean said, Hope and determination filled your eyes.

"Thank you so much, Jean!" You ran out, Man you truly hated Kaeya, Bastard.

But unto Diluc now.

You knew he was the Darknight hero, It was pretty assumable, But it became reality when saw him in Flesh killing an abyss mage. Yea, Nothing suprising there.

You've heard how he had left the Knights of Favonious for God knows what reasons.

You didn't care.

But, he was a valuable asset, with his "Nightly" ventures he mostly knows all criminals and their histories.

So for this came that you really hoped he had something, because one, You just threw a bunch of promises without an actual promising outcome, and two, you and everyone was so exhausted, You just wanted to be happy and find lost dogs and cats.

"It was what you signed for, Y/N" you thought to youself and started making your way to the Dawn winery for Diluc.

"Let's hope it goes well"

You knocked on the door of the luxurious mansion.

"Yes?" A maid replied with Opening the door, huh....she's might be new here,Haven't seen her around...

"Is Master Diluc home?"

"Certainly,"

"I need to talk to him, As from the knights I need to ask Diluc a few questions about the recent case we have ongoing".

"Oh....okay. I'll ask Master Diluc."

The maid closes the door on you, you wait there outside, As you always do when all doors are closed to a case. The best way to solve it is to go to him. He knows quite alot.

The door opened, This time not the maid was standing, But Diluc.

"Hello, Diluc"

"Y/N.."

"I- uh- wanted to talk about the recent Case,

The Jack the ripper case."

...

"Sure, Let's sit in the courtyard, Y/N"

You both head to the courtyard and he picks the table farthest away from the house or from, anyone at least.

"Diluc, I- All doors closed on me"

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't have any evidence to gather anymore! The cases look so evident but- but the killer just keeps on escaping!"

"I swear I'll catch that bastard."

Diluc looks at you with his stern expression. No no- he stared at you after that.

"Y/N the thing, I also know nothing of the killer either."

A silence befalls between you two.

"seriously?"

"yes"

By this point you were so tired, 2 months and 9 cases, Everything was piled up. The killer was on a rampage in which he can't be caught, He calculated everything.

Wait....

He doesn't know.

Diluc doesn't know!

As hard it may be to imagine this but this may be your clue, Suspect The Diluc Ragnvindr? Are you crazy? Well maybe you were.

"Diluc, Are you playing games, We all tired, As the Darknight hero Of Monstadt you know every criminal's detail, The crime's detail, well technically, You always caught the killer killing or- or mugging or raping somebody...You always were on time to save the day!'

"No, I'm not playing games Y/N"

You didn't know what you speaking. You were just so angry these past couple of days. Hadn't let the fustration out in any possible way.

After a moment of Silence, You stand up, Diluc does too.

"Thank you for your Time Diluc."

"Goodluck, Y/N."

And just like that you bade him a goodbye.

You hung your head in shame and walked back to the knights headquarters.

What a tiring day. It was almost nightime already now

You went back to the headquaters, everything had been going so slow yet happening so fast.

You started working on some other files. Kaeya and Jean were out luckily when you arrived and didn't come back till you finished your work and resigned for the day, leaving a note on Jean's desk.

You walked yourself back home, Tired.

You still held on the thought,

.....The thought of The Diluc Ragnvindr being the killer.

You walked and walked, Monstadt at night was the most peaceful. It was nothing like your hometown, Fontaine at night would be crawling with Drunkards, Street performers and Prostitutes whoring around to make ends meet.

But Monstadt was Different, You loved staying here, moving here was the best decision you ever made.

As you walked the quiet streets, The cobblestones making a frail sound everytime you took a step, You heard a very very Muffled sound. A sound like a Muffled scream. You calmed your racing thoughts and listened to your surroundings.

You heard it again.

It was coming from the east, You darted towards the faint sound. You made another turn, the longer you ran and turned towards the noise the sounds of Tugging and shuffling got louder and Louder, almost as if someone was trying to fight someone.

What if it's the Killer?

Oh my god.

It sure would be convenient if it's Jack the Ripper. If you caught him, God you would get rest from this case.

You ran faster, as you turned you saw a figure wearing all black, The hood, The cape. The figure was with a girl, on top of her, A hand clamping over her mouth the figure was fiddling with It's pants.

You noticed the red hair, The red burning Pyro vision looking like it's containing a endless inferno.

Your intuition was right, But you were still finding it hard to believe it.

"Leave Her!"

You drew out your sword, Your vision glowing bright.

Diluc was choking the poor girl, When he left her frail throat to divert his attention to you, The girl took a run for it.

"Diluc, I knew it was you, Had my doubts, Hands in the air, Unless you wanna go down for a fight"

"You bet I'll fight."

Diluc drew out his Claymore, letting out 3 swishes of His flames, Which you managed to dodge you stumbled back, You let out a lighting dash, Your sword aiming towards his neck, Just as the tip is about to touch his neck, Diluc whisked the blunt side of his claymore to meet with your knees.

"Ah!" Your knees bent, but you were still able to manifest a bit of your vision energy to create a surging torrent. You used to sword, carrying the energy with you to strike him, but you were outnumbered by his brute strength. You see you never talked or acquainted with Ragnvindr unless it was buisness you were talking about, You just found him too stern to talk with. You basically knew nothing about him, How he was the youngest grandmaster and the tragedies that followed after. One more thing you didn't knew was the sheer strength he carried. You underestimated him.

I am so Naive.

You thought to yourself as you took a harsh tug in the stomach kicking all the air out of you, You started tasting copper in your mouth, Blood ready to drip out. You fell on the ground, Diluc hovered over you, Kicking you until you were unconscious.

You woke up Unconscious, Uncomfortable and Naked.

Your brain registered where you were for a moment, A dimly lit room, your legs were free but your hands seemed to be chained, Probably chained to a pole you thought. Your wrists had bruises and your head was going all fuzzy because of the torture imposed on you before passing out.

Not to forget, you were naked and had hands tied and bound, You weren't able to cover up your body either.

The events flushed in your head.

You looked around the room, Diluc wasn't there! That bastard! .

"Diluc! Show yourself! Bastard!"

.........

"DILUC PLEASE JUST SHOW YOURSELF!"

You screamed on top of your lungs.

Diluc appeared.

He was holding something in his hands,

"You scream too much".

Diluc grabs your jaw, Ties a some sort of gag very tightly on your face, Hands bound by chains, He trapped your voice, though you didn't stop speaking.

You demanded some sort of explanation.

You kept talking in a loud voice until Diluc raised his hands and slapped you around the face hard, Hard enough to draw tears.

This was enough to bring back memories.

Your father was always aggressive to make you obedient.

Tears start prickling the corners of your eyes just thinking about them, You instead try focusing on the current situation, well the current situation surely wasn't enough to calm down your racing heart.

"You...Y/N since you came here I never was able to take my eyes off you. You were just so free. You intimidated anyone just with a glare of those beautiful eyes, or made an acquaintance with a few phrases."

"A runaway from Fontaine, A woman of the aristocratic family in Fontaine. Wouldn't they be happy to know their daughter would soon be married to the Ragnvindr family's head? Surely you love Monstadt more than Fontaine. That's why you came here. They will be happy to know their daughter has a place and position where she belongs now."

Huh?

What the actual Fuck was he rambling on about?

"Why not have a say in this?, Y/N"

He lowered the Gag slightly but did not untie it.

He crouched down to be face-to-face with you.

"hm?"

"What the FUCK is WRONG with you?!"

You screamed immediately to his face, So hysteric it made Diluc's blank eyes go wide.

"I've seen you walking around, Being all free, confident, Happy. Yet you were alone, you had no man to keep you company, You know...It's a dangerous world we live in."

"What the fuck are you trying to say?, That I was lonely because I didn't have a man at my back the entire time? You don't know how happy I feel in solitude. And...if it's a dangerous world we live in, I was taught to protect myself as a lady. To protect my dignity."

"In any case Diluc my family wishes for me to be wed to another wealthy man from a Noble family. I do not wish that, I wish to create my own name, My own identity, be a warrior. Songs, poetries be written about my name. I do not want live in a man's shadow as his servant and slut. Diluc I don't want to marry you. Let me go, If my family gets to kn-"

Before you could continue further, Diluc slid the ball gag up again tightening the belt from the back.

You have a masculine body like a man, You talk big like a man. Certainly you do not look or belong as a man.

"It's okay Darling, I will treat your hysteria by my own hands. You are in good hands, you'll enjoy here if you are obedient. I'll give you the most luxurious life possible."

"He wasn't going to back away from this, was he?" You thought.

"You'll come to home snuggle me everyday, Cook my food and warm my bed every night. Carry my heir, be pretty for me"

"What kind of sick games does this Sadist have in mind anyway?"

"I want you to co-operate right now with me darling-"

He flashed his knife.

"-if you want to come out in one piece."

Hot tears start streaming down your face.

He isn't back away, Is he?

Is this where life leaves you be?

Diluc gets up and unties the chains from the poles, but didn't open the handcuffs on your hands.

Before you could make a run for it, or drag away, He was already on top of you, Pinning your wrists to the floor.

He kissed you from the chin to the neck, sucking and biting your flesh hard enough to make you whine and leave marks.

Slowly he went down to your left Nipple, Sucking and biting the flesh, You were already a crying mess by now. Pathetic.

"You drive me Crazy, Darling"

Without hesitation he unbuckled his belt, and flipped you over on your stomach in two swift motions. Winning the dominant position again.

He fastened the belt around you throat, and was holding the free end.

It was like you were a dog on a leash.

Without hesitation he pulled his cock out, ramming into you raw.

"Fuck, Ah-ah- you are dripping, or are you bleeding?"

For a fact, you were bleeding. He was just too big and you were a virgin. The force of the sudden intrusion tore at your soft virgin walls.

"A virgin? Saving for me?"

Diluc let out a chuckle.

He fastened his pace, Ramming into you with full force and Roughly.

Your head was fuzzy from all the pain he was causing. Black spots started appearing in your eyes and you were going in and out of consciousness.

Diluc pulled at the belts making you wince and snap back into reality, You realised what position you were in. You back was arching towards Diluc's Torso. He was choking you with his hands to keep you in place while forcing his cock at a angle which made you scream out in pain.

He was hitting the entrace of your cervice.

"I've always wanted kids. I'll empty my hot load into you and you will carry my children. Pregnant and bound by duty to your husband."

You shook your head. A Muffled "No" can be heard from you

"yes, yes you do want me to breed your stupid hole."

"You are my cumdump now, Whore. Don't you enjoy that, Huh? You are such a motherfucking Cocktease. Entering my Tavern on your first day in Monstadt looking oh so beautiful....you turned down my company that day.."

"You got what you deserved slut"

His pace was at mad speed now. He was getting close, His cock was twitching on you now.

"Cumming!"

With a grunt, he emptied his load into you, feeling his hot seed leak into you, you cringed.

He got up, Wearing his clothes back up again, tying your hands to the pole and crouching down.

"See you tomorrow, Darling, be sure to get alot of rest."

He left you on the cold concrete basement floor alone. His seed leaking out of you.

Even if you did get a chance to escape some day, Who would belive The Diluc Ragnvindr was the infamous Jack the killer and took advantage of you?

[mypoisonedvine]

claimed || alpha!Andy Barber x reader

summary: an interrogation with an alpha is no place to have an unexpected heat.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (dub con; the reader goes into heat and can’t think clearly enough to say no), a/b/o dynamics, loss of virginity, mentions of misogyny/discrimination against omegas, vague noncon and violence references, kinda housewife kink, possessiveness, breeding kink, praise, overstimulation, knotting, slight bondage (reader is handcuffed), slight pain kink, implied/subtle age gap, pregnancy mention at the end, kinda soft!dark andy but he's really not that dark

"This would be a lot easier for both of us if you started telling the truth."

You chewed your lip, looking away from the man across from you; it was impossible to keep eye contact when his gaze bore into you like that, when he gave you that stern, dominating look.

Andy Barber was so obviously an alpha, he was one of those types that just reeked of it. Figuratively— with the way he towered over you, his masculine body and strong features— but also literally considering his scent was filling the room now: pine, cinnamon, sage, and something a little bit sweet that made your mouth water.

It made sense for an alpha like him to have a high-powered, high-pressure career like this; he probably got a real kick out of squeezing information out of scared betas who couldn’t stand up to him.

And that was the role you were going to play now, because he was wrong: it would not be easier if you told the truth. If he knew what you really were, you’d be doomed.

You’d been hiding successfully as a beta for a long time by now, and you weren’t about to give it up now, even if it would likely have the charges against you dismissed. Omegas lived sheltered, oppressed lives; sought constantly by alphas, they had their pick of the finest since omegas were so rare, but until mated they were extremely vulnerable— and afterwards they were usually made to be subservient housewives, constantly bearing children as a consequence of their extreme fertility.

Maybe some omegas were okay with that, plenty probably loved that lifestyle since it was sort of the instinctual habit of an omega by nature, but not you. Never you. You wanted a life, a real life, your own life as more than an alpha’s mate. Thankfully you’d found the right mix of suppressants and perfumes to hide your scent, the right work schedule so you could always be home for your rare heats, and voila: to the rest of the world, you were a beta.

Being a beta meant being unnoticed, unacknowledged, never pursued and never courted. And that was exactly how you wanted it.

If Andy Barber knew that the man you’d stabbed was an alpha trying to force himself on you, there was a chance he would understand that it was self-defense and let you go. Then again, a lot of alphas seemed to think that being forced to mate was just par for the course for an omega; surely Andy wouldn’t be one of those types, as a man of the law, right?

“I can’t,” you finally answered.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he assured, some of his anger shifting to a soothing tone. It really did calm you down; he must have been using his ‘alpha voice’ on you, and the fact that it worked should’ve been a red flag but you didn’t notice. “Let’s start from the beginning. You said you were at home but no one has confirmed your alibi. You said you didn’t know the victim but you obviously reacted when I showed you his picture. And, you said you weren’t there at the time of the murder but we found your DNA on the body.”

A little smile pulled at the corner of your lips, exactly not the reaction Andy had been expecting. “You’re lying,” you whispered.

He tensed up as you called his bluff. The DNA found at the scene was in the process of being analysed, sure, but it would be weeks until the results came back. “How can you be so sure?” he pressed.

“Because I.  Wasn’t. There,” you hissed, glaring back at him; he shook his head solemnly..

“No, that’s not it. I can tell when you’re lying, too, you know,” he warned.  “Tell me how you know I don’t have your DNA at the scene?”

“Because… because…” you breathed, blinking a few times as the room started to get warmer. Your head was spinning, your thighs clenched together— and when Andy reached out to rest his hand on yours and ask if you were alright, his touch sent it all into overdrive.

No, no, it wasn't your time yet. It shouldn't have come for a few more days, and you’d arranged to be bailed out tomorrow so you’d go into your cycle safely at home and not in jail. But now it was beginning and you had no way to stop it. Had the smell of an alpha really been enough to start your heat early?

Andy watched you start to pant and sweat with a furrowed brow, unsure what he was witnessing because he’d never had the opportunity to see it before. His ex-wife had been a beta, he'd never even met an omega before— they were quite rare after all.

But what he lacked in experience, he made up for in instinct; his body told him everything he needed to know about what he was seeing. “Omega,” he growled lowly, watching your whole body erupt into shivers at the timbre of his voice.

As far as alphas go, Andy was relatively level-headed, not as preoccupied with instinctual desires to dominate, to claim, to impregnate. A lot of alphas viewed mating with a beta as settling, although it was the much more likely outcome, statistically speaking. Andy, though, never really saw it that way, even knowing how much harder it would be to have a child with a beta. Their fertility was significantly weaker, both the males and the females, and Jacob was the product of years of trying; in all their marriage him and Laurie had never used any contraceptives and she only got pregnant the once.

But an omega? Especially a young one like you? He could knock you up right now, if he wanted. That power was intoxicating. It was exactly what he never knew he needed so badly.

“I don’t need the results of your DNA to know what you are,” he explained firmly. “I can’t believe I didn’t know before— you must have tried really hard to keep it a secret, little one. You must be so afraid of who you are… and who I am, for that matter.  It must scare you to imagine what I could do to you.”

You whimpered, the noise tugging his heart in conflicting directions; to comfort you, or to make you do it again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you think,” he assured. “Not if I can help it…”

Honestly, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to help it; he felt his own sanity slipping as he watched you writhe and cry, instinct overtaking logic in the both of you.

"Alpha, please," you shuddered, the title making his cock harden instantly, uncomfortably filling the trousers of his suit.

"You smell so good," he purred, taking his jacket off as he stood up to cool off a bit. "I can smell your heat, Omega. I bet everyone in the building can—” he glanced to the locked door— “but I'm the only one here."

"Need you," you whined, tugging on the handcuffs that kept you bound to the table.

"Stand up, bend over," he commanded, and he'd barely finished speaking when you'd already done it, bent at the hips with your forearms resting on the table as you waited for him. "Good girl."

He rolled up his sleeves and took his place behind you, caging his body in with yours, nuzzling into your neck to get a deep breath of your scent.

"Fuck, so sweet," he groaned. "Waited so long for this. To feel an Omega on my cock. Never thought it would really happen. Has an Alpha ever taken you before?"

"No, I never… no."

"Not just unclaimed but a virgin. Christ, am I dreaming?"

But he was too far gone to take any more time to appreciate his luck— he needed you now, and he was taking you all for himself.

If he wasn't so overcome with need he wouldn't have thought to tear your clothes off, but now he didn't even think to question the idea, shedding you of your clothes like they were made of paper until you were completely exposed to him, your wet core vulnerable while another wave of your sweet scent filled the room.

"Look at all this," he grinned, kneeling down to lap at your folds and taste your slick. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your channel craving to be filled. "All for me, Omega?"

"Yours, it's all yours…"

"Doesn't it feel good to be claimed, little one? To be owned?"

"S-so good," you agreed. "Want your knot, Alpha. Want your mark."

A growl echoed in his chest when you said that, and he craved nothing more than to bite your neck and bond you to him for life.

But, it would be better if he saved that for a little later.

He stood up again and gave your ass a quick slap— nothing too rough, just enough to make you yelp all cute and whiny— before grabbing your hips to pull them back into his. You gasped and pushed back onto him, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the thick outline of his cock.

"Gonna make a mess on me with all that slick, Omega," he growled, but it was by no means discouragement.

"Want it in me, please," you sobbed. Unable to resist your begging anymore, he hastily opened his belt and fly, sighing with relief when he wrapped his hand around his cock and pulled it out. Your whole body visibly quaked when he swiped the swollen head through your folds, coating himself in your plentiful arousal.

Without any further warning, he pushed his cock in with a loud moan, a cry tearing from your throat as he tore into your body. "Shh," he soothed as his fingers rubbed your spine, "that's my girl, that's my pretty Omega."

But pain wasn't really your issue; it hurt, yes, but what made you cry was that you were already on the edge, about to come from hardly anything. When he thrusted once, you lost it and your legs quivered as a new wave of slick started to dribble down them.

"Are you coming?" he asked darkly.

You could only nod, biting your lip to try to keep from moaning too loudly.

"Oh my god…" he groaned, amazed at how sensitive you were. Clearly he wasn't the only one realizing how powerful and incredible it could be when an alpha and omega mated.

He started to really pound into you then, each brutal thrust knocking you forward.

"Feels good when you come for me, Omega. Do it again."

You couldn't help yourself; his voice had complete control over your body, his words a command you were helpless to resist. With a broken whimper you came again, walls squeezing his cock in a weak and stuttered rhythm.

"It's better than they say it is. Even better than I imagined. So fucking good," he sighed. It felt so right, that was the thing. It felt like your body was made to be claimed and owned by him.

"Want your knot," you whined, "please, Alpha—"

"If I give you my knot, you're mine. My Omega. You will never allow another Alpha to touch you. You will not speak to another Alpha, look at another Alpha, even Betas are off-limits. When I bite you, you'll be bonded to me and become my wife, you'll never disobey me or leave me. When I knot you, you'll give me a child. Is all of that perfectly clear?"

It was everything you'd wanted to avoid just an hour ago. Now it was your greatest dream come true. "Yes, Alpha. Yours, Alpha."

"Want to be bred, Omega? Bred by your Alpha?"

"Please!" you sobbed.

"Then keep coming and I'll let you have it soon," he promised. "I'll give you all my come like you need so badly."

You whimpered as your walls seemed to try to suck him in deeper, gripping him so tight that it made his head spin. Orgasm after orgasm washed over you, too many and too numb to count, each part of you slowly stripped away and replaced with pure, all-consuming pleasure.

The base of his cock began to swell and you mewled proudly— that is, until, it just kept growing and you couldn't imagine taking anymore.

"P-pull it out," you begged instead.

"I told you that you would take my knot, was I not clear?"

But you hadn't realized how big it would get, how far it would stretch you— and it was still going. "It hurts, Alpha, please!"

"You'll get used to it, gonna keep it in you all night and give it to you every day so you'll have plenty of practice. Take my fucking knot while I come inside you and breed your cunt."

When his knot finally grew to its full potential, streams of hot come began to fill you, deeper than you had ever imagined possible. It was overwhelming, apparently unending, and one final orgasm rocked your body as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

He wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close and soothing you as you shivered and cried, his kisses trailing up your shoulder to your neck where, finally, he sunk his teeth into your skin and left his mark on you.

Your walls quivered around him at the feeling of being claimed, mated for life. In that moment you didn't notice or care that it was to a man you barely knew; he was your Alpha now, that was all that mattered.

He kissed and licked over the sensitive bitemark, whispering praises your ringing ears couldn't quite process yet.

At least you were getting bailed out a day early.

//

Andy kept his promise about exactly how owned you would be. For the first few months you didn't even leave the house, he was too busy filling you with his cock every day. Although he was happy to claim you anywhere he happened to find you— the shower where he hopped in randomly, the kitchen where he bent you over the counter, the living room where he pinned you onto the couch— his favorite place was the bed. It was rougher and more animalistic in the other places, but in bed he was possessive in an entirely different way.

"My wife, my sweet little wife," he whispered in your ear as he slowly thrust all the way into you, making your back arch until your chest pushed against his. "My Omega. All mine."

"Yours," you agreed.

The protectiveness increased tenfold when your scent changed during pregnancy, even more when you started showing; he was obsessed with the way you looked full of his baby.

As for you, omega life was better than you'd expected. At times you felt smothered by him, but simultaneously you felt worshipped and loved like you never thought you could deserve. He certainly spoiled you, though he expected your unwavering loyalty in return.

That part was easy, though. Love, not fear, kept you in check when other alphas had a wandering eye. They knew you were mated, the bitemark scar (which Andy never, ever let you cover) and ring (which Andy never, ever let you take off) were sign enough along with the change in your scent to them. Occasionally one would shoot his shot and get unilaterally rejected by you before getting his ass kicked by your husband. If only they knew what you'd done to the last alpha that tried to creep on you; how you met Andy in the first place.

In the end, maybe it wasn't so bad to fall into your instincts, your natural role in society. Andy sure made it pretty enjoyable with the way he brought you to the height of pleasure over and over every night. "Mine," he promised you in deep whispers, "from the moment I saw you."

[jackrrabbit]

Sidekick /// Dabi x f!Reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Summary: During a rescue gone wrong, a rookie sidekick catches the attention of two villains.

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers!! This is the fic that made me create a smut blog/lowkey inspired this. imho this might be the spiciest thing I’ve ever written 😳 also wanted to call out @kazooli​ because this is highkey inspired by her lol thanks queen

Tags/warnings: quirk kink, reader’s quirk makes other quirks stronger, noncon, threesome, lots of foreplay, outdoor sex, mild overstimulation, degradation, mild violence, threats, chronological/temporal inaccuracies, fucking long

You can hardly be blamed for not recognizing them. It’s only been three weeks since you debuted as a pro, and you’re not even really a hero. You’re a sidekick, and apparently you’re not important enough to have been briefed on the major villains you need to look out for. You’re just…doing your duty. Rescuing civilians indiscriminately. Stupid, naive little sidekick. It’s not your fault that the lives you just saved belong to the two most notorious villains around.

Still, Shigaraki can’t wait to see the look on your face when you find out.

///

The disaster you ‘rescue’ them from—the League’s bar crashing down, the result of a small-time villain’s poisonous gas quirk—isn’t even a disaster. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but Shigaraki and Dabi would have been fine without you…even though both of them missed Kurogiri’s warp gate and ended up trapped under a wooden beam in the wreckage of the building… Okay, it’s more than a minor annoyance. Shigaraki hacks violently as the cloud of foul-smelling steam and powdered debris enters his lungs. The poisonous quirk doesn’t seem to be having the same acid-burn effects on his body as it did on the building, but he can’t assume it’s harmless.

Father… Shigaraki took Father off his face to drink at the bar earlier before the gas hit, and now in the confusion the severed hand is either buried underneath the rubble that used to be the League’s main base or somewhere else out of view. “Father? Father!” Shigaraki calls out, attempting to shift under the crushing weight of the beam.

“Shut up,” Dabi says from somewhere to Shigaraki’s left. “Kurogiri took it in one of the portals, I saw it.” He looks worse than Shigaraki feels—something hit him in the face as the bar collapsed, and a few of the staples (piercings? stitches? whatever) on his right cheek are torn open and bleeding.

“Are you lying to me?”

Dabi sneers and rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.” His palms glow blue and Shigaraki follows suit, letting four fingers sit on the wood that’s pinning both of them to the ground. It’s too heavy to lift, so they’re going to have to get rid of it…a task that seems significantly more difficult when it becomes clear that neither of them are positioned at the right angle to touch it.

Shigaraki tries to wrest his arm out enough for his thumb to touch the wood, but it’s impossible. Beside him, Dabi’s having the same issue. “Shit, I can’t reach—“

“Is someone there?” Confident, clear, and oddly robotic, your voice cuts through the din of gurgling water from cracked pipes and police sirens like a lit flare in the darkness. Shigaraki tenses and halts his attempts to get free from the beam, and a second later Dabi mimics him.

“I heard voices.” The same unfamiliar voice rings out through the half-light, now accompanied by a body—your body, taking a series of awkward jumps down the piles of rubble to land in front of the two of them. The outfit you’re wearing is ridiculous: a pair of metal boots that clang against the cement wherever you step, matching braces on your arms, and a space-age chrome motorcycle helmet to top it all off.

A hero. Shigaraki’s lip curls in disgust as your head turns his way.

You scan the scene quickly, eyes resting on the two men trapped in front of you for a moment before you turn back to the opening in the wreckage. “Found two civilians!” you call out to the rescue workers just in case they’re within earshot, although it’s unlikely.

Dabi snickers under his breath. Civilians? Even in the chaos, you should’ve known the second you saw them who you’re looking at. Are you faking ignorance? Got something up your sleeve?  It’s either that, or you genuinely don’t recognize them. Priceless.

You kneel down in front of the fallen beam and give a half-hearted attempt to pick it up. It doesn’t budge. No surprises there—if it were light enough for you to lift by yourself, the two men held down by it would have no problem getting out with their combined strength. You’re going to have to use your support gear to get it off them.

But first—you search for a memory of your rescue training. Reassure the victims. They’re probably panicking.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them, your voice coming out mechanical and distorted from the helmet you’re wearing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here to save you.”

This time, Dabi has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Ah, yes…they’re so lucky that there’s a do-gooder little hero around to rescue them, because they’d be helpless otherwise. The laugh is still audible, though, and Shigaraki shoots him a glare.

You raise an eyebrow at their expressions. Did he just laugh? Well…you’ve heard that people sometimes have inappropriate reactions in times of crisis. The dark-haired man seems more badly hurt, so you creep toward him first, careful not to disturb any of the debris and trigger an avalanche reaction. “I’m going to check your injuries now,” you tell him, and your gloved hand brushes away a sweep of spiky hair to examine the sizable red bump growing on his forehead.

Ouch…there’s no way that doesn’t hurt, but the man’s not letting any of the pain show on his face. Instead, he looks disinterested at best, and at worst? You almost get the feeling that he’s eyeing you up under your hero costume. Not that you can blame him. Damn this skin-tight bodysuit—it leaves basically nothing to the imagination.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask him. “I don’t think this is too serious, but they’ll look you over for a concussion when I get you to first aid.”

Dabi shrugs and you frown. Is the non-verbal response because of the ripped stitches in his face? Is it too painful to talk? Or could there be brain damage? Or maybe he’s just a man of few words or something…?

“Can you get on with it? Pick up the fucking beam already,” Shigaraki hisses.

Startled, you pull your hand away from the other man’s forehead. That ungrateful little…nope, nope, don’t get annoyed, he’s just in shock. “O-Of course, sorry. Just gotta make sure it’s okay to move.”

Luckily, the beam doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything else that’ll fall if you pick it up. You crouch down next to one end and steady your feet against the cement, lifting up with all your strength while activating the effects of the support items you’re wearing. When you feel the metal on your arm braces grow warm, you remind yourself again to thank the developer of your costume. You may not be a fan of the way-too-tight bodysuit that clings to everything, but the strength-enhancing armor that you wear on your arms and legs more than makes up for it.

A second later, you hold back a grin. It’s moving! You try to ignore the unpleasant screech of metal against stone as the beam slowly lifts into the air. As soon as the men get out from under it, you pant and let it crash back into the ground. “You guys okay?”

“Mm…yes,” Dabi replies, running a hand over the torn piercings in his cheek. “Got any more gas masks for the poison mist?”

“Don’t worry! The Commission is familiar with the villain who created it, and the gas isn’t harmful to anything living. Only buildings. It’s a troublesome quirk, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Then what’s with the helmet?”

He can hear the hesitation in your reply, even distorted and tinny through the metal speakers. “Uh…I, well…”

Now that you’re getting a good look at them, the two scarred faces in front of you seem weirdly intense, considering you’ve just saved them from a collapsed building. The dark-haired man’s eyes are…very, very blue next to the burned-looking skin underneath, and the other man’s greyish-blue hair isn’t quite long enough to obscure a pair of red irises that are scrutinizing your face with obvious hostility.

You give a nervous shake of your head to clear it. “Um, the helmet is…it’s dangerous if I take it off. I should get you guys back to the rescue area, I need to meet up with my hero…” Without thinking, you take a step back and then one more, not knowing exactly why you’re backing away when you’re supposed to be escorting them. “I’ll just lead the way?”

With your third step back, though, you bump into something hard. What was that? Your head jerks around but before you can identify what it is that stopped your retreat, you feel the faint sensation of something tapping lightly on the back of your helmet.

And then…it just…crumbles.

What just happened?

You cough and shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of dust. A breeze whips through your hair, sending a chill through you in more ways than one. How? No one pulled the helmet off; you would’ve felt it if they had. More dust sticks to your face, and you rub your eyes so you can open them.

Behind you, Shigaraki waits with outstretched fingers an inch away from your neck. If he had to explain the decision to decay your helmet strategically, he could—you’re a hero, a potential threat, and he wants to know what you’re hiding under that outfit just in case you figure out who they are and decide to turn on them.

But really? He didn’t think about it that much. It was an impulse reaction to you walking away from them; a tantrum. Child-like.

Once your stunned face is exposed, Dabi has to wonder what you were even trying to hide. You’re…surprisingly ordinary. Young-looking—a rookie, fresh from hero school graduations a few weeks ago maybe? Large, expressive eyes, lips parted in shock, but nothing particularly interesting. Shigaraki cocks his head to the side to study your face too, and both of them are so focused on your appearance that it takes a moment for them to notice the feeling.

Well, feeling isn’t really the right word, but there isn’t a word for the way your quirk works. Dabi’s eyes widen when it reaches him and behind you, Shigaraki stiffens. You notice.

There’s an involuntary quiver in your voice as you break the silence. “Y-You guys must have strong quirks if you can feel it just from that.”

Dabi sucks in a breath. So this is your quirk? It’s different…he’s never felt anything like it, not that he’s exactly sure what it is. There’s some kind of energy in the air around you that he’s breathing in, a feeling like taking a shot of espresso after days of sleep deprivation.

No, it’s stronger than that. The head rush after doing a line of cocaine would be a better metaphor.

Either way, he’s awake—more awake than he can remember feeling in a long time. Heat rises to the surfaces of his palms unbidden, his quirk appearing without him calling it. “What is this?”

“…It’s called Boost,” you say, licking your lips as a dry wave of heat radiates out from the man in front of you. “I can strengthen other people’s quirks. That’s why it’s dangerous—if the villain finds us—“

“It must have been hard to get through hero school with a quirk like that,” says a raspy voice from behind you.

What—? Your head twists around. When did he—

Shigaraki grips your shoulder with three fingers, holding just tightly enough to keep you from stumbling forward and away from him. His pinky and ring finger hover an inch over your costume, careful not to disintegrate the fabric he’s touching—although with the power sparking through his veins at the moment, it almost feels like three fingers would be enough.

“…Doesn’t really seem like the kind of quirk a hero has.” His voice, soft and pondering (a weird contrast to the harsh architecture of his facial features you’d seen earlier), feels very close to your ear. Something soft tickles your cheek. His hair?

A voice (an instinct?) deep inside of you is telling you to run. You ignore it. This is normal, right? It’s not uncommon for civilians who’ve just suffered a traumatic villain attack to have questions, even if those questions seem irrelevant to the situation at hand. You have to answer, even if your gut is churning. “I’m not really a hero. Not yet. For now, I’m a sidekick to one of the pros—and speaking of which, I really need to find—“

“But how does it work?” Dabi doesn’t notice himself making a conscious decision to step forward, but he does anyway and being closer to you feels right. He can see the trepidation on your face as he gets close enough to reach out and touch you, but you can’t really ask him to stay back, can you? Not when your quirk feels this good?

“I—“ Is it unreasonable that you think you’re being trapped right now? They’re just a couple of civilians, right? The question itself is common enough. People often wonder how you can be a hero. It’s a concern you’ve had to address dozens of times over the years. “Well, I work with rescue operations, especially with other heroes who have healing-type quirks. I can also assist in combat in some situations.”

“In combat? If you’re with a hero and a villain, you’ll enhance both quirks. Seems counterintuitive,” Dabi says, half aware that his voice is getting lower.

“And you clearly don’t have physical abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have…these.” Shigaraki taps three fingers on the metal brace on your right arm.

“The effects can be unpredictable. And I can increase the degree of the enhancement with physical contact.”

“Contact?”

“Yeah. The gloves of my costume come off. My quirk is way stronger when it’s skin-to-skin.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Shigaraki’s ring finger and pinky, which were hovering over the arm brace, come down to rest on the cold metal. The effect is instant: no crumbling, no slow decay—it’s there, and then it’s dust. His quirk in action, boosted by yours.

“What—What are you doing? What did you just do?” You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight by your collar. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, and in one long sloppy stroke, he licks you from your neck up to your jawline.

You shudder. So does Shigaraki.

“It’s my quirk,” he tells you slowly. His breath is steamy warm on the cold, wet trail of saliva painting your throat. “Decay. Have you heard of it?”

You flinch away from his hand and your back falls against his chest. Of course you’ve heard of the Decay quirk. You might be a rookie, but even civilians know about the young, impetuous head of the League of Villains. Jesus, how had you not recognized him earlier? White hair, red eyes…you should have known. You should have left him under that beam. “Shigaraki…Tomura.”

“So you’re not completely clueless. Do you know me, then?” Dabi asks. He would think he’s the more noticeable of the two (the burn scars usually identify him), but you just stare up at him with the same deer-in-the-headlights look as before. Smirking, he lights a blue fire in his palm and it jumps up toward your face—not just the small spark he intended, but a bright, high flame. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

“The Forest of Beasts incident. You’re the one who started that fire,” you whisper. You’ve seen the TV coverage of the attack on UA’s training camp, the abduction of that teenage student, the forest lit up blue from wildfire. No wonder his skin looks burned.

“Dabi,” he corrects you.

Breath is coming out of your mouth in shallow puffs. Are you hyperventilating? Is this what hyperventilating feels like? You’re definitely panicking. They’re so close to you, caging you in between them. The smoke from the blue fire is uncomfortably hot over the exposed skin of your face, and Shigaraki’s lethal hands are still touching you. If they want to kill you—and why wouldn’t they?—you’re fucked.

The flame goes out and Dabi’s hands come down to squeeze your wrists. His palms are hot like he was holding them in front of a lit stove. It’s not painful, but it’s a threat.

“I’ll fight,” you say.

Your voice is trembling, and Shigaraki likes it. The effects of your quirk, the way he felt when he licked your face… And you’re afraid. He can see it in your shoulders, the quivering of your torso pressed into him. It’s nice. He wants to feel it more.

You’re struggling against their hold, and Dabi feels the urge to laugh. “You’ll fight…the two of us.”

“If you try to kill me, I’ll—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Shigaraki’s hands flit down to your metal support gear and disintegrate it. Shit. He’s fast, and you’re helpless.

Dabi releases your wrists and cups your face in a mockery of intimacy. His eyelids flutter closed as his skin meets yours… Fuck, he could get used to this. You smell so good, sweet and soft and clean, like fruity shampoo. What is that, watermelon?

Life must be difficult for you, hm… Everyone around you must want to touch you constantly. It seems like Shigaraki enjoyed licking you—maybe bodily fluids are an even stronger conductor of your quirk? Pushing easily past your resistance, Dabi forces your jaw upward and kisses you.

Oh…yesyesyes, just like that. Perfect. Dabi has to bite down a groan as his tongue enters your mouth. It’s ridiculous for someone else’s spit to taste this good, but he’s right—your quirk is amplified by the contact from the kiss.

After a moment he has to break it to regain focus and make sure he’s not burning you. You cringe away from him, your cheek brushing against Shigaraki’s neck, but Dabi tangles his hand in your hair to pull you back. He runs a finger against your closed lips, letting the pad of his fingertip heat up until your mouth drops open in response to the threat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, voice laced with revulsion. Privately, you agree. What’s going on? You were sure you were about to be either burned to a crisp or decayed into the equivalent.

Dabi laughs under his breath. “Try it. It feels crazy good.”

Curious now, Shigaraki wrenches your head around and tilts your jaw up to repeat Dabi’s action. When you refuse to open your mouth, he taps your jaw warningly and a hiss of fear escapes you. Would he really kill you? He decayed your support gear so quickly—would it be the same for your body?

Well, what’s going to stop them?

You open your mouth.

Shigaraki’s lips are harsh and unsentimental against yours. His tongue sweeps over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He grips you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold with your head twisted toward his. You’ve never been kissed like this before. His spit—it’s in your mouth.

And Dabi’s hands are on your waist. “How do you get this thing off?” he murmurs, pinching the fabric of your bodysuit.

A surge of panicked adrenaline gives you the strength to pull back away from Shigaraki. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Are you going to stop us, little sidekick?” Dabi mocks. “I think I can burn it off without too much damage.”

“Let me.” Shigaraki takes hold of the cloth, careful so when it dissolves into dust his hand isn’t touching you, and within a second—a second—you’re left shivering in just your underwear and boots.

“Help!” The plea squeaks out and you hope blindly that there’s a hero close enough to hear you. But is there even anyone who can fight them? You certainly can’t. “Help me! Somebody!”

“Shut up.” Dabi sends up a tongue of flame from a fingertip and you shriek as the heat sears against you. “Oh, come on. You should feel lucky. Bad guys like us usually don’t hesitate to take heroes out.”

“I don’t— Please, I’m just a sidekick, I’m a rookie— What do you even want from me? Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone! Please let me go.”

“Well, I think I know what I want.” Dabi traces circles over the tender skin of your hips, playing with the elastic of your underwear. He meets Shigaraki’s eye over your shoulder. “I think he wants that too. Right?”

“Yeah, I want…I want to fuck her,” Shigaraki hums. This isn’t like him, but he can’t help himself. You’re different. Leaving you here and never feeling this stimulant again isn’t an option. He buries his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bites down on the soft skin there, and sucks.

You whimper, half from his answer and half from the sensation of his chapped lips on your neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you smell like something I want to eat. Especially this.” Dabi kneels down in front of you and hitches one of your legs up over his shoulder so you feel his hot breath washing over your clothed pussy.

You whine and attempt to wriggle back away from him, but Dabi’s grip on your thigh holds firm. His other hand brushes against the fabric of your panties to rub up against your slit and another surge of panic jumps up your throat. You can’t let him do this.

You kick your foot against his back, desperately attempting to make contact using the heel of the high boot that’s the only piece of outerwear still left on your body. It hits him awkwardly and he growls. “Damn it. Can’t you keep her busy?”

“Ahh…” Shigaraki ceases his oral assault on your neck and scratches a fingernail against one of the bright red marks marring your skin. He feels almost dizzy from the way your quirk is affecting him. Behind him, the broken expanse of wall digging into his back is the only thing keeping his focus. “Behave, sidekick.”

Before you can respond to the mocking title, Shigaraki’s face is against yours and his tongue is in your mouth again. Rough fingertips work up under the band of your sports bra and pushes it up over your tits. You screw your eyes shut at the sudden feeling of cold air on your nipples, and you know without looking that they’re standing up. Shigaraki gropes you thoughtlessly, keeping one finger lifted off of your skin, and you gasp on his tongue.

“That’s better.” Dabi’s mouth returns to brush against your panties. To be honest, eating you out isn’t the first thing on his mind. What he wants—what he really wants—is to shove you up against the wall and fuck into you and find out what your quirk feels like when you’re wrapped around his cock. But you’re probably not wet enough for that, and it’s not like Shigaraki is going to do anything to take care of you. Dabi would be surprised if the other man’s ever eaten pussy before in his life.

Besides…you smell good. It’s not even just the feeling of your quirk exciting him. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy is inches away from him, and Dabi is dying to make you cum in his mouth.

A moan curls up from deep in your throat as Dabi caresses the lips of your pussy through your underwear. You don’t bother protesting—at this point, it’s unlikely that any plea you could muster would stop them. Your earlier begging didn’t do much besides spur them on, but you still cry out as softly as you can when an unnaturally warm fingertip slips under the cloth of your panties to dip into your slit.

“Oh? You’re wetter than I expected. Are you enjoying this?”

Your frantic denial falls on deaf ears. Shigaraki rasps out a laugh and bites down on your neck again. He’s supposed to be keeping you still, but he can’t help enjoying the way your almost-naked body feels as you press yourself back into his chest, trying to force some space between yourself and Dabi.

Your squirming is no problem for Dabi, though—you’re so soft and vulnerable and the velvety skin of your inner thigh looks so delicious… He nuzzles against the area of bare skin and latches on to it, sucking until he’s sure you’re going to have a mark in a few minutes. The thought of leaving hickeys on you like a teenager is sickeningly nostalgic. You’re probably going to try to forget this when they’re done, aren’t you? But you won’t be able to, not when you’re covered in love bites and bruises. You’re going to be marked up for weeks.

Fuck, he’s hard.

Too impatient to bother taking off your panties, Dabi just pushes them aside to gain access to your damp cunt. His fingers feel hot—too hot, almost unbearably hot; you feel like you could melt into a puddle and your pussy is certainly slick enough as he pets your clit and slides one finger in, then two… You whimper and shake your head, silently denying what’s happening to you. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but Dabi’s fingers quickly find that rough patch inside of you that makes you want to beg like an animal. You hate it, but it feels good.

“She’s so tight,” Dabi says with something like awe in his voice. You can hear Shigaraki panting behind your back.

“Get on with it,” Shigaraki says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

For a second you just feel Dabi’s humid breath against your dripping cunt before he closes the space between the two of you and his tongue slides onto you, laving over your cunt to come to a rest on your clit. A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before forces its way out of your mouth as Dabi eats you out in earnest, rubbing his tongue against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your head rolls back onto Shigaraki’s shoulder. You feel like crying for a million reasons at once. Maybe you’re already crying—the sounds you’re making are almost like sobs. You want him to stop. You never want him to stop. Your hands twitch as you fight the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your thighs.

“Fuck, oh fuck, no stop please stop, ah…!” The stream of gibberish coming out of your mouth crescendoes into a real sob as you feel your climax coming. No—you can’t—you can’t cum here, in this broken-down bar, on the tongue of a villain, but it doesn’t matter that you can’t, because you’re going to cum anyway.

“Please don’t, please let me go—“ You writhe uncontrollably as the desire to cum sweeps over you, but Dabi just curls one arm around your thigh and pulls his face away so he can push his fingers back in, angling his palm to grind roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm wet softness of his tongue is enough to push you over the edge and you cry out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Dabi’s fingers as he works them in and out of you.

Unable to support yourself, you crumple like paper, and only the two villains you’re sandwiched between keep you upright.

“Fucking finally,” Shigaraki growls, and he pushes you down so your knees scrape painfully into the rubble. Your earlier resistance was cute, but so is your dazed compliance as he pulls your hips up to meet his.

“You’re going first?” Dabi asks incredulously. After he did all that work getting you off? No way.

“You can use her mouth,” Shigaraki tells him. His cock is straining against his pants and he groans as he releases it and rubs it over your panties. He could decay them, but…they’re cute. Pale pink, peach-pink, except for the wet spot over your cunt. Precum is already dribbling out of his cock as he pulls your panties to the side and lines it up with your pussy. Jesus-fucking-christ, you’re wet, sopping and slimy. Doesn’t that mean you’re begging to get filled up? Shigaraki hears himself sigh as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit so it’ll be wet enough to go in.

You’re still out of it, dizzy from your orgasm and the tension of the situation, but you snap back to your senses with the feeling of something hard pushed up to your entrance. “Wait!” you yelp for what feels like the hundredth time. The gravel scattered over the wreckage where you’ve been forced onto your hands and knees digs painfully into your flesh as you pull away from Shigaraki, but he holds fast to your hips with pinkies raised.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi admonishes with a grin, as if he’s reprimanding a dog for not coming when called. He settles himself in front of your front and kneels again. Your hair is mussed but still silky soft and he takes a moment to enjoy the way the strands slip over his skin before he tangles his fingers close to your scalp and yanks your head in his direction, forcing your cheek to chafe against the crotch of his pants. It’s not difficult to tell what the the thick bulge is through the fabric, and you try to flinch away only to be caught again and immobilized.

“You’re going to take care of us,” Dabi tells you. “Like I took care of you. Okay?”

No, it’s not okay, it’s absolutely not okay, and you would say so if you didn’t see Dabi’s expression darken at your obvious denial and feel a wave of acrid heat coming from his hand in your hair. The smell is worse than the feeling, honestly—you’ve had enough run-ins with hair curlers and flat irons to recognize the smell of hair when it’s three seconds away from burning. “Okay! Okay,” you answer, panicked, voice muffled by the fabric of Dabi’s pants.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and the heat fades.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Shigaraki says from behind you.

“Then don’t.”

You whine, too scared to try to get away again or even plead with them to let you go, but it doesn’t matter. Shigaraki’s cock presses into your pussy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him as he slides into you, inch by inch, torturously slow. Is there anything to bite down on? You need to do something, anything to distract from the pain of Shigaraki’s cock stretching you out. He’s big, impossibly big.

Eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip until you can taste copper and scrabble around blindly until your hand finds loose fabric to grip. It’s something of Dabi’s, probably the coat he’s wearing if you remember correctly, but your brain isn’t exactly working right at the moment—

“You were right…shit, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” Shigaraki’s voice is low and labored with the effort of not thrusting into you all at once. “Feels like…she’s trying to push me out…”

Fuck it, he thinks. Would it really be so bad if he did push all the way into you in one stroke? It’s better to just get it over with, isn’t it? Yeah…you’d probably prefer him to do it quickly. And besides, he can’t wait another second to feel you all the way up to the base of his cock.

Your strangled whimper is drowned out by his satisfied groan as he shoves the rest of the way into you in a single sudden thrust. The pain knocks the breath out of you in a gasp, and your eyes fly open as you clutch Dabi’s coat like a lifeline.

“It hurts—!”

“Yeah…yeah, I bet it does,” Shigaraki pants, holding your hips steady as he thrusts in and out of you. The bored nonchalance of earlier is gone, replaced by a feral intensity as his cock carves its way through your pussy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think there’s something affectionate in his voice.

For Shigaraki’s part, he can hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped over his dick. It’s taking every vestige of concentration he has left to make sure he’s holding a single finger on each hand away from your skin. It’s pure bliss. Your body was made to be fucked like this. He wants to live inside your pussy, he wants to do this every day, every minute. Fucking you raw is the best he’s felt in months…years. And it doesn’t hurt that your quirk is still working on him, still sending pleasurable shocks of energy that make him feel simultaneously like he could keep you pinned down for hours and like he could cum any second.

“Oh, she’s crying,” Dabi says, tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. You flinch and try to jerk your head away, but his hand is still holding you by your hair and he’s so much stronger than you are. They both are, even without using their quirks. “Look at me.”

You comply, more by reflex than any real desire to obey. It’s pretty striking to Dabi how cute you look as Shigaraki pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto Dabi’s coat like your life depends on it. It’s almost like you’re pulling him closer. Adorable.

“She can…take it,” Shigaraki responds breathily between thrusts. “Such a good whore, taking my big cock in her tight little pussy…”

The backhanded compliment jars you and you feel hot tears spill over your cheeks. “I’m—not—a—whore,” you manage to say, each word punctuated with Shigaraki’s skin slapping against yours.

“Really?” Shigaraki’s pace slows and he leans closer to you so he can reach an arm around and swirl two fingers against your clit. You mewl like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation and he laughs rudely. “Feels so good…can’t believe the heroes don’t want to fuck you like this all the time…”

You shake your head desperately and bury your face in Dabi’s chest, barely noticing him stroking your hair and then reaching down to unzip his pants.

“No, no, I bet that’s what you do as a sidekick, right?” Shigaraki’s thrusts are back to frenzied jerks, and he rubs over your clit just as roughly. “Spread your legs for your hero…you’d make a great personal cocksleeve. Or maybe they rotate you around so every pro hero gets a turn…?”

“No, I don’t! No! Ah— ahnnn…” The denials pierce the air uselessly as the villain’s cock fills you up again and again. You’re not a whore, you’re not…even if it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing pressure of Shigaraki teasing your clit in time with his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. It still hurts—he’s so big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had sex with before, but there’s no way you’re going to admit to yourself that it’s starting to feel good.

“…Is my cock better than All Might’s?” Shigaraki’s words are cut off by his own grunt of pleasure as your cunt twitches around him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi cuts in. “I’m sick of hearing a guy’s voice moaning. I’m going to get soft.”

Past the point of comprehending the situation, you look up at him gratefully, only to reel back in shock as Dabi frees his own cock from his pants and it brushes against your cheek. Trying to pull away from him is more instinct than rational thought, but he holds you just as easily as before and forces two fingers into your mouth. You tense, ready to bite down, (and hopefully take a few knuckles off) but he sees it coming and suddenly your mouth is horribly burning hot.

“You’re going to suck my cock now,” says Dabi conversationally, extinguishing the flame almost as soon as he started it. It’s not so bad—probably more like a coffee burn than anything else—but you’re coughing and spitting anyway. “Say yes.”

“…Yes,” you whisper, voice barely intelligible.

“Good little sidekick. And you’re going to be very careful. You’re not going to use teeth.”

You nod, unable to mount a defense with Shigaraki mercilessly fucking you from behind.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeal as Shigaraki finds a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“Good.” Dabi drags your head down to hover over his cock and massages your jaw until it falls open. “Suck.”

One of his hands falls to your shoulder to try to stabilize you, but you can’t help feeling the threat in the motion. You quickly duck down and attempt to ignore the heady smell of sweat and precum as you trace your tongue up the underside of his dick. He’s big too, maybe thicker than Shigaraki, and you hate yourself for feeling lucky that it’s not this cock inside your pussy right now.

The stunt Dabi pulled burning your mouth made you salivate, and you let drool coat your tongue as you lick around the head. But it’s not working—you rock forward every time Shigaraki stuffs his dick back in your aching pussy, and Dabi’s cock smears over your mouth haphazardly.

“I said suck. Not lick.” Suddenly (although you don’t know why you keep expecting some kind of warning before these villains find a new way to violate you), Dabi grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock into your mouth. Your throat constricts involuntarily as the thick head triggers your gag reflex, and all three of you shiver in unison.

“Do…do that again,” Shigaraki says, voice strained. “She tightens up…when you do that.”

Dabi smirks and thrusts into you again, relishing the warm, humid cavern of your throat around his cock along with the pure swell of energy from your quirk enhancing his. His rhythm matches Shigaraki’s and his cock hits the back of your throat with every rapid pump, making you gag and clench like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. What a perfect little slut… He can see from Shigaraki’s sloppy movements that you’re squeezing around his cock every time too.

The feeling of having one villain cock buried in your pussy while another ravages your throat is unthinkable, even more so with Shigaraki’s fingers on your clit coaxing out an earth-shaking orgasm. But you’d almost be able to forget what’s happening—god knows you’re delirious with sensation, barely able to keep track of who’s doing what to you—if not for the sound. The wet slap of Shigaraki’s hips against your ass, the horrible squelching from your (dripping wet, even if you don’t want to admit it) pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you, your choked moans and gagging noises, and above it all, the unrestrained voices of the villains fucking into you.

You feel like a fuck toy, a sex doll, used without mercy by the two most evil people you can think of…and you’re about to cum.

Your voice is getting louder by the second, and the pulsing of your cunt around Shigaraki’s cock is telling him exactly how close you are. He curls his body over yours to get a better angle to rub your clit, enjoying your high-pitched whine in response. “Yeah…that’s right…good girl. Cum on my cock…like a good little sidekick.”

You keen and goosebumps rise on your skin as Shigaraki licks at the sheen of sweat on your back. He feels your climax almost as soon as you do… If your scream wasn’t stifled by Dabi’s dick in your mouth, everyone within a one-mile radius would know you were getting fucked silly, yeah? The walls of your pussy clamp down on Shigaraki’s cock, your body begging for his cum, and he grips your ass to make sure you can’t get away as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you.

Fuck… Shigaraki could die right now and be happy. He keeps stroking your clit, knowing it’s cruel, knowing you’ll be overstimulated and sensitive and that it’ll hurt to keep touching you like this after you already came, and not caring because every time the tips of his fingers push that little magic button, you shiver and squeeze him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

Shigaraki gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into your body, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then finally pulls out. The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene. So is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulls it away. He loves it.

Knowing that Shigaraki came—inside you, no less, the inconsiderate bastard—Dabi grips the back of your head and tugs you down to deepthroat him. Your walls twitch involuntarily and Dabi groans, letting himself shoot his load down your throat. “Yes…yeah…yeah…just like that. Swallow.”

You don’t swallow. You don’t do anything but gag on his cum and gasp as he thrusts into you. Dabi pulls you off of him, annoyed and ready to threaten you into submission again…until your head lolls to the side and he can see that your eyes are closed.

“Shit, she passed out.”

“…What? Are you kidding?”

Dabi slaps your face lightly. You wince in your sleep but don’t wake up. “Nope. Must’ve been when she came the second time.”

“Is she…” Shigaraki trails off, not sure how to end the question. ‘Okay’ isn’t exactly right.

“She’s breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of them wait for a moment, but you don’t move. When he catches his breath, Shigaraki wipes off his dick and pulls up his pants. Dabi does the same. Without them holding you, you flop down into the fetal position on the broken concrete. “What now?” Shigaraki asks.

Dabi wipes the sweat from his forehead. “You tell me, leader. I’m surprised Kurogiri hasn’t opened another warp gate to get you back. Guessing you don’t have your phone either?”

“…We can go to Giran’s place to meet up. They’re probably waiting for us there,” Shigaraki says, scratching at his neck.

“Do you have cab fare?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. You?”

“Not enough for a cab. We’ll have to take the train. You can owe me.”

Shigaraki looks down at you. You make a pitiful scene, naked except for your boots, sports bra, and cum-soaked panties. Your neck is bruised red and purple, and you’re shaking, shivering in the cool air now that the sun has sunk further toward the horizon and you’re not being touched. “Are we going to leave her here?”

“What, you want to bring her on the train with us? You don’t think that’s gonna look suspicious?”

“Well…” Their eyes meet and Shigaraki knows Dabi’s thinking the same thing he is. You have a lot of potential as an asset. They haven’t even had the chance to see how your quirk boosting works in combat, but Shigaraki almost wants to pick a fight just to give it a try.

And fighting power aside, Shigaraki isn’t a fan of the possibility that he’ll never get to fuck you again.

“Yeah, I know. But she’s a pro hero’s sidekick. She can’t be too hard to find.” Dabi shrugs off his coat and crouches next to you. You’re limp enough that he has no trouble lifting you into his lap and guiding your arms through the sleeves of his coat. Once you’re wrapped in the black fabric, he does up the buttons, combs through your hair with his fingers, wipes the mixed cum and spittle off your chin, and admires his handiwork. Sure, anyone looking closely at you will know at least a little about what happened—you’re still sweating in the cold, you have that undeniable ‘just got fucked’ look all over you, and the smell of sex is overpowering. But at least you won’t have to walk back to the rescue tent in your filthy underwear.

In your sleep, you nuzzle into Dabi’s chest, reaching blindly toward the source of warmth. He grins and strokes the back of your neck, soothing warm fingers over the bruised skin there and enjoying his last opportunity to touch you and feel your quirk working…for now, at least. “You know, I wonder why villains don’t get sidekicks. Seems a little unfair, right?”

Shigaraki’s sneer matches Dabi’s as he bends down to run his fingernails over your cheek, almost hard enough to hurt. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Hi dear! I’m not too sure if this is too specific or odd for you to write, but if not may I request Vincent comforting his pregnant s/o after Bo makes a rude comment about their baby bump size? Thank you so much and take care 💕

Anon, I'd love to do more 'mature' kind of stuff like pregnancy and other related kinks -Lactation kink and such- This fic is just fluff though! Take care of yourself and thank you! 🐇💕

Vincent Sinclair x Female Reader (Pregnant Reader)

Underthecut - Fluff, Angst, Jonesy being a good girl, Pregnancy stuff, Bo being a dick, Mentions of Killing and noncon (Brief and not with the reader)

"You know, I wouldn't doubt if half of that bump was from all that food you've been eatin." Bo snarked as he caught you mid-waddle down the streets of Ambrose with Jonesy in tow.

Jonesy whined and gave Bo a soft ruff. Her wet nose tickled your fingers.

You froze. Shoulders slumped as you spoke with a vulnerable tone, "I'm pregnant you backwoods bastard." The tears welled up, bottom lip trembled as he shuffled back to the house of wax.

Bo hollered out to you, "Aw, c'mon, sweetpea! I'm just messin around!" Jonesy, tell er!"

Jonesy barked and growled at Bo as you two made your way up the street.

Every sniffle and tear made you feel like shit as if you didn't already. "Thanks, Jonesy." You patted her head, "God, your uncle sure is a dick. And he's basically my stupid brother-in-law"

You broke out into a sob, Jonesy pressed her weight against your legs, her whines telling you she understood. Might not fully understand why you were upset, but upset nonetheless.

---------------------------

Vincent busied himself with his latest creation, a teddy. He wanted it to be perfect. It was for her firstborn child after all, and that little munchkin deserved the best.

The best...

He pounded, a slight frown as he sat back in his chair. Could he give the best? Could he give his child everything their little heart desired? Realistically he knew no parent could.

It still ate away at him. Festered deep within him after the rush of excitement at the pregnancy news had worn off.

It had taken months of talking to calm him down about his appearance. Would the baby be scared of him? Screech and scream as he neared, as he neared you.

"Vincent, the baby doesn't know the concept of 'normal' They'll simply see you as their father."

He wanted to cry when you spoke those words to him.

He wasn't usually soft, years all walls being put up made him cold and calculating. No one was to tear them down.

No one but you.

"Vincent, stop worrying. Things will work out, you and Bo have been at this whole thing for years now. Sure a Baby is hard work but, we can do it."

More words replayed in his head,

"You know, Vince, I'm just as nervous. I too worry if I'll be good enough."

He cursed himself, he wished he could verbally to you just how amazing you'll be. How beautiful you look pregnant and how much more you'll look while carrying the baby in your arms.

He knows you'll look pregnant while you breastfeed, how naturally it will come to you. How the baby will cry when out of your arms.

Prayed the baby would never cry in his arms. Prayed you were right and the baby just saw him as a dad. Not some freak.

"The mask will scare him, Vince. So don't wear it around the baby!"

Vincent shook his head, snapped his attention back to the little teddy bear he was working on.

It had beige fur with buttons for eyes. Two blue-coloured buttons to match his eyes. A white snout with a sewn-in pink nose. It had a little black side smile, like the one you gave him when you were being smart with him.

Vincent perked up, the sound of his two favourite girls entering through the basement door elated him.

"Vincent?"

his heart stopped as your wobbly voice carried down the stairs.

"Vincent, I need you."

Vincent moved quicker than he could have imagined. A hand ran over Jonesy as he dashed up the stairs to place his large hand on your belly.

"Is...it...time?" He coughed as he held a powerless look. His heart sank as he watched the tears freely flow from your eyes, down your delicate cheeks.

"No, it was," A hiccup and a long sniffle, "Bo. He implied I looked fat!"

You collapsed into Vincent's arm with an audible thud, your heavy sobs muffled as you buried your face into his chest.

Vincent rolled his one eye and scooped you up. He bit his lip, his unscared cheek went pink as his chest rumbled.

He set you down on the bed next to Jonesy. He playfully shook his head as he looked down at you.

"What? Go kick his ass!"

Vincent clenched his chest, a wide smile, soft huffs from his mouth, he was laughing, to the best of his ability.

"It's not funny, Vince! You don't say that to a pregnant lady!"

He knew you were right, Bo shouldn't have said it. Was still funny how your hormones got the best of you. Normally if Bo would say such a thing to you, it would turn into a full-on verbal showdown.

Vincent sat behind you on the bed, pulled you into his chest, rested his chin on your shoulder as he pulled up the large t-shirt you wore. His. To rub your swollen belly.

You shifted uncomfortably as his fingers traced over your stretch marks. A slight whimper as his free arm wrapped itself around your chest, "Vinny, those are sore too," You gestured towards your breasts.

"M..sorry." He eased up but kept your firm against him.

His gentle strokes on your tummy, a figure pattern on your large baby bump had you sigh, your muscles eased as you shimmied closer in his arms.

The heat rose to your face, "Thanks, Vinny." You kissed his cheek, "I'm not fat?"

He coughed in an attempt to chuckle, "No...You...look beautiful."

----------------------------

"Hey," You shuffled around Jonsey, an impromptu dance as you kept giggling when she pushed her snout under your large shirt. Her wet, cold nose on your sensitive skin making you shriek and jump. "I think she's excited for the baby!"

Vincent sat on the large rock outside, his sketchbook in hand, the charcoal dusting his fingers as he captured the scene in front of him.

Each stroke was careful, each tiny detail was deliberate.

The way you moved in tandem with Jonesy was captured on the worn page.

"Well?" You shot him a look before you screamed, Jonesy's wet nose making contact with your belly. "You think she's excited or what?"

His smile made your chest tingle, your heartbeat out of synch for a few beats.

"You excited to meet your baby sister or brother?" Jonesy sneezed, her tail whipped about like a weed wacker gone loose. Her brown eyes held a warmth to them.

That was it.

Vincent worked furiously on the page, the way his two favourite girls shared a moment made his creativity course through him.

He silently cursed Bo. This would be a perfect opportunity to captured these moments on camera. But, "Hey, I need a momento of me and this blonde!" If momento he meant a porno slash snuff film...well fuck him then.

Maybe it was fair. He did hog the camera. From making Sex tapes with you, from basic sex to one long video of him drugging you and dressing you up. Many videos featuring the aftermath of his kills.

"Vincent!"

your voice snapped him out of his recollection.

"Vincent!" The way you joyously called to him as Jonsey greedily kissed your tummy with her nose had him carefully set down the sketchbook. "You better get over here!"

He grabbed you, you back against his chest as he held up your bump. The way he sighed and leaned back told him the action was appreciated. But, it held you in place and, allowed Jonesy to give you all the kisses she wanted.

"Vincent!"

[lixis-sin-cauldron]

Father Figure: Punishment [Eraser Head | Shouta Aizawa]

Rating: Explicit 18+ content MINORS DNI. Pairing: Shouta Aizawa (Eraser Head) X fem!reader Word Count: 4.4k Kinks and Warnings: noncon, pseudo-incest, slight somno, vaginal fingering, oral, vaginal sex, unsafe sex, creampie, abuse of trust, restraints, everything bad. Seriously. Aizawa is not a good dude in this.

Summary: Aizawa had taken you in and raised you, loved you. Fought off his urges for so long, but when he found out who you were hanging out with he couldn't control his anger. You just didn't get why he was upset, no matter how hard he tried to explain. If you refused to listen, to understand; he'd have to punish you until you did.

Notes: This fic was inspired by @shorkbrian​’s Aizawa fics – Father Figure part 1 and 2. Written with permission as a kind of 1.5 of what the first time Aizawa forced his stepdaughter was like. For an overall understanding of what the story between Aizawa and the reader is please read at least part one first, though it was the paragraph about the scene in part two that made me want to write this.

Links to the fics are here: Part One and Part Two

Can also be read on Ao3 here: Father Figure: Punishment Big thank you to the @dymphnasprose​ for beta reading this.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are actively consenting to see adult, and possibly disturbing, content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that you’re emotionally capable of handling it. The tags and warnings there to ensure you are fully aware of what content you will encounter before reading, if you proceed knowing something will upset you - you did that to yourself and that is not my responsibility. [further info on this concept here] [and here] [and here]

It was a slow boil at first, Aizawa’s anger, since he wasn’t a man who got angry easily. Yet, when he saw you get out of the car after a day out, saw the ‘friends’ you’d spent the day with, saw you hug those boys goodbye. That they dare ever touch his daughter – well, he felt fury at that moment, barely restrained when you walked into the house.

He tried to make you understand. See how stupid and dangerous it was to be alone with them, how upset he was that you had kept the fact you had male friends secret from him. Even if you were grown up now, you were still weak and so innocent to how men think. You just didn’t get it, how much he worried about you.

How much he loved you.

His fingers tapped in an unsteady rhythm against the wood of his desk while he tried to calm down in his study. Tried to control himself like always did when it involved how he felt about you, but the fire inside was raging and refused to quiet.

How could you not tell him who you were with? Surround yourself with those beasts? He could still smell their stench on you after they hugged you.

A dark thought came to him, what if they had already had you? Spoiled you?

No, no. He knew that wasn’t possible. Not yet, you still felt the same. He would know, he could feel it. You were still pure, untouched… but for how much longer? How long until one or more of them thought they could try to taint you?

You were his baby girl, his darling. It was Aizawa who had taken you into his home. It was him who had raised you, taught you, cared for you like no one else ever could. He loved you more than air itself. After all he had done, he had earned you.

He had earned you.

He finally boiled over, standing so suddenly that his chair toppled over and clattered to the ground. If you wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t see he was right about those boys…

He’d make you understand.

You looked so angelic, nestled into piles of blankets on your bed in nothing but a nightshirt and panties; your chest raising up and down gently as you slept. His own chest swelled with love at the sight, wanting to slip in beside you and take you in his arms – it was one of his favorite things to do with you, napping together. Feeling your soft curves as he held you, your cute little ass pressing against him.

The fact you had never even noticed the hard-on he hid during those naps showed just how naïve you were to the world of men.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, heavy with sleep, as you felt your body shift and arms move. Aizawa came into focus, confusion at the sight of the man you called your stepfather.

“D-dad?” You muttered as you registered the man hovering over you. Your confusion slipped into panic as you noticed the tight grip he had on your wrists, wincing at the pain that came as he pressed them together against your headboard with one hand. “Dad! What-what are you doing?” you cried, struggling against the tight hold.

He shushed you, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He purred, brushing away a few strands of hair that had clung to your lips in your sleep.

“Let go!” You were screaming now, twisting and turning in his hold. You tried to kick at him, but he was sitting on your waist, locking you in place so only the lower parts of your legs could flail around, failing to reach him.

“I’m almost done.”

You felt a soft material brush against your tender wrists, wrapping around them. You look up, trying to make out what it was in the darkness of the room. The shape of a long cord came into focus as your eyes adjusted to the dark, binding your wrists to one of the thick poles that decorate your headboard.

The binding tightened against your skin as Aizawa pulled it into a knot, locking your hands in place above you.

“Stop! Let me go!” You demanded again, trying to wrench your hands free.

“Stop,” he growled, grabbing your cheeks rough, forcing you to settle your gaze on him, “It’s just me, baby girl. Just Daddy.” He cooed; his harsh tone having disappeared as quickly as it came.

“W-why are you-? What are you doing?”

“As much as I want to feel your arms around me, I know it will be easier for both of us like this. I promise I’ll untie you when we’re done.”

“D-done? What are you talking about, what are you going to do?”

“I tried to make you understand before, but you just wouldn’t listen.” He shook his head; hand sliding from your face.

“This is about earlier? A-about my friends? I told you-”

“Just because you think you know them; doesn’t mean you do. I won’t let them taint you. I love you too much to let that happen.” He stroked your cheek gently as he spoke, a loving smile on his lips as he stared at you.

“I-I l-love you too, Dad. I’m sorry I upset you. I promise I’ll be careful around them and-”

“You don’t understand,” he growled again, shaking his head angrily, “but that’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m going to take care of you, that’s what Daddies do. They take care of their little girls.”

“You’re scaring me!” you cried, tears coming to your eyes as you started struggling against the weight of him on top of you, trying to throw him off.

A soft groan from him caused you to freeze, feeling something hard against your hips where he sat. “D-dad?” you whimpered.

His eyes were closed as he sighed through parted lips, slowly opening them and giving you a sweet smile as he came back from whatever headspace he had been in as you had struggled under him, “Nothing to worry about, Baby,” his placed his hands on your sides, fingers slipping under the fabric of your nightshirt, “I know this can be a scary thing, but I promise to make you feel so good. I’ll take my time with you, show you how much I love you.”

“N-no, d-don’t touch me.” You begged, trying to pull away from the touch, retreating into your bed to no avail.

His course hands glided up, dragging the shirt as he moved and exposing your skin. As he reached the soft mounds hidden beneath he pulled the shirt over them to bring them to view. He let out a long sigh at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect. Such cute, perky breasts.” He trailed a finger over a nipple, circling it.

“No, no, no,” you whimpered, deep sobs breaking between each rendition of the word, “please, no.”

Aizawa paused, bringing his hand to your face and brushing away tears from your cheek gently with his thumb, “Crocodile tears have never worked on me, remember? I know you don’t want to be in trouble, but this needs to happen. You need to understand. I’m the only one who really loves you, who has been there for you forever. The only man you’ll ever need.” He pressed his lips to yours as he finished speaking.

You bit him.

He reeled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and glancing to see if there was blood. There wasn’t but his lip throbbed from the attempt. He glared at you before slamming his palm into your shoulder and pressing you into the mattress.

Your head bobbed violently with the impact despite the pillow you rested on, mind swirling as you tried to regain your senses.

Aizawa sighed, eyes shut tight as he calmed himself.

“No more tantrums, sweetheart,” he cooed at her with a smile, calm once again, “if you keep acting up like this, I’ll have to take drastic steps to make sure you behave. Understand?”

Your Father had never been a violent man, all you had were happy memories of him but in this moment, seeing that twisted smile, your body was overcome with terror at just what he would do to you if you tried anything else.

“Yes.” Your reply was a whisper, barely audible.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed you again, mouth eagerly taking yours. You were as still as a rock at the touch.

His mouth drifted downwards, light kisses against your neck as he traveled.

Hiccups mixed into your sobs as they started again, realizing what he was doing – where he was going.

His journey took him exactly where you predicted, his scruffy chin rubbing against the soft flesh of your breast. You squirmed involuntarily at the feel of his breath on your nipple but remained in place from his hand still pressing into your shoulder.

You gave a whimper as he took the soft peak into his mouth; suck at it delicately, rolling his tongue around it. His free hand took perch on the other breast, kneading it and rolling the unattended nipple between his fingers.

A struggled gasp came from you at the stimulation. He hummed happily at the sound, blowing lightly and causing the point to tighten and become erect. He shifted his focus, taking the first breast in his hand after removing it from your shoulder and drawing the previously neglected one into his mouth to taste as well.

He remained like that for a short time, making sure to keep his attention balanced between the two; suckling and massaging. He ignored the soft sobs you emitted, the pleas and refusals, and instead enjoyed the shivers that he caused your body to have.

You didn’t want to feel the things he was doing, the strange ache at your core that Aizawa’s actions were building inside you. You hated it, you wanted to scream but didn’t, fearful of what he may do if you did.

He moaned, rubbing his cheek again one breast as he finally relented and took a deep breath, drawing in your scent. “See, Baby? See how good Daddy can make you feel? I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, because of how much I love you.”

“Y-yes, D-dad, I understand. Ar-are we done?” You sniffed, lips quivering as you spoke.

He gave a chuckle at that, “Of course not. I’m just getting started, sweetie. I’m so excited,” he started his soft pecks on your flesh again, starting between your breasts and trailing downwards along your stomach, “I’ve wanted to taste you for so, so long and now I get to.” He slid from his seat atop you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.

Legs suddenly free, you felt a new burst of energy and started kicking at him. It was a futile effort, he grabbed your thrashing limbs easily, holding them tightly in his strong grip and pressing them down so they laid flat.

You whimpered at the tight grip as he pressed into you.

“Now, now,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice as he stared you down, “I know you're nervous – I am too – but don’t be a brat or I may hurt you by mistake. You don’t want me to hurt you, do you? All I want is to make you feel good, make you realize Daddy is the only one you need in your life.”

The hand drifted away from your legs, hovering to see if you would act out again. You remained still, trembling as you looked away and buried your face into the curve of your arm, not wanting to see what else he planned to do.

He wouldn’t even let you have that small relief, pulling you back to face him, “Such a shy thing, but I want to see your face so don’t look away again.” No request of confirmation this time, just the threat of what would happen if you disobeyed him anymore.

Returning to the panties, he slid them off slowly, twisting them down your legs despite you pinning them together tightly in a last play of resistance. You gagged as you watched him bring the cloth to his nose, taking a long inhale and let out a staggered sigh. He stuffed the undies into his pocket carefully when he finished. You didn’t want to know why.

He didn’t seem to mind the way you pressed your legs together, simply pushing his hands between your knees and easily parting them with disciplined strength. His happy look faded as his eyes fell between your legs.

“Who?” He growled, seeing the hairless plain of your pussy.

“W-what?”

“Who the fuck are you making yourself so neat and clean for?” His voice was a controlled shout, but his eyes were full of rage that made you shrink.

“N-no one, I- I- I just like it like that-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He snapped, knowing your tells all too well, “Is it one of those boys from before? Have you let someone else see you? Touch you?”

The venom in the words sent renewed terror through you. What would he do if he thought you had been with someone else?

“No! No!” You screamed, “He hasn’t-”

“So, there is a boy.”

You had slipped up, said more than you meant to. “Y-yes,” you hiccupped, “b-but w-we haven’t… h-he hasn’t seen…”

He relaxed; knowing you were telling the truth as you trembled beneath him. His hand returned to your face, wiping away the tears and snot that dribbled down it, “Good. That’s good.” He praised, petting you softly before returning his focus to lower parts.

Aizawa tilted his head as his eyes studied you, a smirk slipping back to his face, “I like this, now that I know it’s something only I get to see.” A finger ran along the clean scape, dancing along the skin back and forth between your thighs, leaving goosebumps where he touched.

He moved, pulling your legs apart further and positioning himself between them, resting one over his shoulder. He easily slipped a finger between your folds with one hand while the other gripped your leg tightly in place over him, bracing you as you wiggled from the touch of him in your most intimate place.

“So pretty,” he purred, spreading your lips apart so he could see the silkiness inside. He sighed at the pure, untainted look of you, “Look at how eager you are to be played with.” His tongue ran up and along the part, causing you to cry out.

“No, no, please, no – Dad, please – don’t do this. Please.”

The words fell on deaf ears as he continued, savoring the taste of you as he explored further with his tongue, finding the cute nub under its hood at the top of your slit. It throbbed, reacting to the stimulation he had been forcing on your body. He twirled around it, watching you with dark eyes as you squirmed at the sensation.

He drew the nub into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, causing a loud moan to escape you as he worked it. He pulled back his head and released it, a pop emitting as he did so, “That’s right Baby, just relax into it.”

Before you could reply, denying the enjoyment and that the noise had just involuntarily come from you, he returned to the mound and began nursing at it, making your words cut before they even began as you whimpered and whined, fidgeting in his hold as he worked.

It became more difficult for you to hold back the noises as he intensified his focus, a finger slipping into you, massaging your insides; curling and twisting to find the points that caused the most response out of you. A slippery, squishy sound filling the darkroom as he sucked at and slipped in and out of you, mixed with your struggled moans, hiccups, and sobs.

As you became wetter, he slid another finger inside – relishing the gasp that came from you as he did so. He spread the two inside you wide, pushing against your velvet walls and stretching you. Working you as he twisted them, loosening the tight space in preparation. As he massaged you, he felt the walls constrict around his fingers, pressing them closed as you tightened with the orgasm.

He sucked at you eagerly as you came, tongue gliding along your opening and lapping up the juices while steadying you as your back arched and toes curled with the intense phenomenon.

Finally relenting, he let your leg fall to his side; straightening himself so he could take in the full view of you as you quivered, your hands locked in a death grip around the pole of the headboard that you were tied to, eyes glossy and wide as you tried to regain your senses.

“See? That’s how much Daddy cares for you. No immature boy would be so meticulous with you, making sure you were nice and ready for him before they rutted into you like some wild animal. No, a real man – one who loves you, like me - takes his time. Aren’t you glad that you don’t have to worry about anything, knowing Daddy will take care of his little girl?”

You gave no reply, just staring at him as you tried to understand why this was happening, your tears and sobs having stopped as your mind realized they were useless.

“Let’s clean you up,” he fussed, taking his shirt and sliding it off. First, he wiped his own face, then ran the fabric over your cheeks, clearing away the dry tears and mucus before finally wiping it gently over your inner thighs. “Look at you… so beautiful.” He stared at you longingly, taking in your disheveled form.

He brushed away the hair that had fallen over your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning down for a kiss. It wasn’t a simple one this time either; his lips parted, pulling yours apart with them. His tongue slithered in, finding yours and twisting around it, sucking at it.

You tried not to think about the fact you could taste yourself.

“Let’s see…” Aizawa hummed, eyes studying you carefully after he withdrew.

You let your head fall back into the pillow, eyes to the ceiling as he contemplated. Hoping he was finally done.

“Ah, yes.” He lifted your hips, taking another pillow from elsewhere on the bed and sliding under you.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, confused by the action.

He nodded, understanding the confusion, “A logical question. You see, it's important to elevate the hips, that way it's easier to move. Makes everything feel better.”

“F-feel better? What- Aren’t you done?”

“Of course not,” he purred, rubbing your thigh up and down, “I told you, sweetie, I’m not going to let anyone else have you. Your first time is supposed to be special, with someone you love and who loves you. Some hormonal boy would never be good enough for you.” He worked at his waist, unbuttoning it and sliding the zipper down as he spoke.

Your eyes went wide, and you started scooting away from him, “No, no, no – you can’t – this is-”

He held you in place, your legs spread open around his, “Now, none of that. I’ve told you plenty of times already. If you had just listened to me and stayed away from those animals… well, we’re past that now.”

He tugged the pants down, boxers with them, and took his dick in hand; stroking it as his eyes traveled along your exposed body, “I’ve dreamed of this for so long, held myself back – but you had to act up, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, looking away from him, not wanting to see him stroke himself or the raging hard-on he had.

“Don’t look away, remember?” He growled.

Your eyes snapped back to him, locking to his to both fulfill the command and do your best to avoid the rest of him.

“Good girl.”

“Please, Dad, please. I’m your daughter, remember? You-”

“You’re right,” he nodded in agreement. You started to smile, thinking you had gotten through, then he continued, “You’re my little girl. That means no one else gets to touch you, but me.” He growled, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked pussy.

You tried pleading more, screaming and begging him to stop, but those went silent with a whimper as he pressed inside you. At first, just the head entered, slow and steady, but the moment you enveloped him he lost the control he had and thrust hard, shoving every inch of him as deep as he could.

A slow exhale slipped between his parted lips as he felt you encompass him. “Finally…” he whispered, eyelids fluttering as he rested inside you. He gave a blissful smile, “See, baby? See how well you take me? It’s like you were made for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He seemed not to notice or care that you were shaking, your nails digging into the wood of the headboard as your body quivered at the sudden invasion.

He started rocking gently, hips slow as he moved. As he did, he continued to ramble; praising you and calling you his little girl, saying how good you felt. How he shouldn’t have waited so long for something you both wanted.

The gentle words turned to growls and harsh words as he started moving faster, the bed started to shake as he did. He went on and on about how you belonged to him and how dare some children think they could take you from him. That you just had to provoke him, make him act out, and have to punish you like this.

“Move your hips, sweetheart, it will make it feel even better.” He commanded, taking your hips in hand rocking him in time with his thrusts.

At first, you hated it, knowing he was right about how it did feel better. How with each plunge into you he did, the better you felt. Yet, as it continued, you fell into the feeling, letting it envelop you and help you slip away from the reality of what was happening.

He noticed. He noticed your muscles relaxed, your moans get louder as you took over from his guidance and rocked with him on your own.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” He growled in ecstasy, his arms wrapping around your body as he buried his face into your chest. He started pressing deeper, harder. Jack-rabbiting into you over and over, the pressure causing you to bounce against the mattress and press back into him, forcing cries and moans from you as you were overcome with the reactions he caused.

“That’s right, come for Daddy,” he purred, feeling you clench his cock tighter as you reached another peak. He slipped a hand down between your legs, his fingers rolling your clit to edge you closer.

You screamed as the wave rushed through you, the headboard rattling in your grip as you shook.

Aizawa didn’t slow despite this, pushing through the tightness of you and pounding into you further. Crying your name, praising you, and fawning over how amazing you felt.

You weren’t sure how long it kept going; time lost as he rocked in and out of you, playing with you and pushing you to orgasm again and again. Soon enough all that came from you whimpering moans as he continued, bringing you to another edge.

“Yes, yes, that’s my girl, come with me,” he moaned from his current position over you, your legs held around his waist as he sat on his legs and pumped into you.

He was finally going to finish, you realized. Thankful that it would soon end but then you considered what that meant.

“W-wait,” you stuttered, trying to remember how to speak, “don’t-” your words cut as he arched his back, rutting deeply into you and knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull out. It’s our first time, I’m not wasting a single moment.” He stated, seeming to understand your intent but misinterpreting, as always, into what he wanted.

“No, no. Please, Daddy-” you begged as you felt your climax roll through you.

Aizawa reached his peak too, your calling out to him like that pushing him over his edge while you squeezed around him. He grunted, pressing as deeply inside of you as he could as he filled you. He rocked gently, forcing out what was left from the initial surge. Then he was still, his head hanging as it swayed back and forth. He set your legs down gently on the bed, releasing his hold on them.

Despite his warnings, you buried your face back into your arm, trying not to think about what he had just done - not wanting to be lucid enough yet to believe everything that was happening. You whimpered as he withdrew and tried pressing your legs shut in response, but he stopped you, holding them open.

Aizawa smiled, watching as your pussy pulsed and the thick, white liquid dribbled out of the tight little hole he had just been inside. Reaching into the pocket of his pants as they rested around his knees and he pulled out his phone, blinking at the bright light as it turned on before pressing the camera app and aiming at the sight before him.

“Look, see how amazing you made me feel?” He asked, shifting to lay beside her and showing her the photo he had taken.

You didn’t want to look but knew he would force you if you didn’t. You had thought your tears all dried up, but seeing the photo, you started crying again.

“Shhh. Shhh, it’s okay. I know, I know,” he cooed, setting the device down and petting your hair gently.

As he comforted you, he untied the binding of your wrists and let them fall. You didn’t try moving despite the freedom and just remained limp as he drew you into a loving embrace. “I know, the first time is overwhelming. So many new sensations, but Daddy made sure you were ready and took as much time as I could. That’s how much I love you, I wanted your first to feel amazing. The next time will feel even better as your body learns to work with me.” He rubbed a cheek against your hair as he spoke.

You trembled at the words he had spoken, the implications. You wanted to run, but you had nothing left so you just laid there in his embrace, dead-eyed as he continued whispering sweet nothings to you.

——Tag List ——

(Please check this post if you would like to be included!)

@underratedmage​ @tomurasprincess​ @elektraeriseros​ @lilleeboi​ @smolladyy​

[cozykozume]

Gaslighting on a Friday Night

Scumbag Kenma x Drunk College!f reader 

Warnings: Heavy noncon, Heavy dubcon, Gaslighting, alcohol use, creampie, name calling, slight praise kink, choking, dacryphilia, degradation, humiliation, hair pulling, coercion, emotional manipulation, blackmail, Mean Kenma

PLEASE MIND ALL TAGS.

WC: 2617

If you think I missed a trigger warning, please let me know so I can get it updated! This is for a CollegeAU! collab. 

Thank you to @sightoru​ and @anarchicmartyr​ for letting me be a part of it!

It was your first time going out to a college party with your friends since the semester had started. So many shots, one too many drinks and the inability to say no to your friends is what had your head heavy and eyes tired. Kenma sees everything, always paying attention to those around him. Your stumbling and careless smiles are what drew Kenma in, which is unfortunate for you...

“One shot, two shots, three shots, four. Five shots, six shots, let's do more!”

This was the motto of tonight’s party, and you had no intention of disappointing your friends. 

Each of you had a row of shots in front of you, throwing them back while the crowd around you chanted. By the 4th shot, you could feel the muscles in your face loosening up, a goofy smile plastered across your face. 

The 6th shot had to be the worst though, the burn of tequila creeping up the back of your face and behind your eyes. You could feel the heat as your eyes teared up and you fought back your gag reflex. This was the first night out with your friends since you had started college, and there was no way you were going to be that girl. You swore to yourself that you were not going to be the girl that cried, threw up, or caused a scene. 

In through your nose, out through your mouth. You say to yourself, blinking slowly as your head behinds to feel heavy. You can hear the yelling, laughing and music in the background but it really does feel like you are underwater at this point. 

“Y/n! Get over here! We haven’t even started taking pictures yet!” You smile, turning to walk over to them before stumbling on your own feet.

“Fuckkk!” You laugh, reaching out to grab a hold of someone’s arm. Your fingers lock onto someone’s hand, unsure of who it belonged to. You look up, a pair of tired golden eyes staring down at you. You give him a loose smile, dragging your body closer to him. He, on the other hand, just peers down, an expressionless face watching your every move. 

“Whoops...Sorryyyy!” You yell out over the music, standing on your toes to get closer to his ear. He once again watches you, his eyes trailing up and down your tightly clothed body. He nods his head, taking your hand and passing it over to your friend as she reaches out for you. “Sorry about her! It’s her first time at a party like this and she clearly hasn’t learned the ropes yet!” 

The man that you had grabbed looks at your friend and then back to you, nodding his head. “It’s fine!” He says, his voice barely able to be heard over the music. 

Your friend drags you away, laughing as you are thrown into the group of girls and the photo taking begins. Unknown to you or your friends, that would not be the last time you see those golden eyes up close. 

-------------------------------------------------------

You should have stopped after that 6th shot. You really should have. But of course, peer pressure is a real thing and you fell victim to it. Drinks, shots and even a joint or two had been passed your way during the night and even if you wanted to, you had no way to really say no. 

Your eyes felt heavy, head lolling from side to side as you walk toward the stairs in an attempt to have a quiet moment. Once again, your feet become hard to move and you stumble forward, grabbing onto someone's arm as they walk by. You look up, once again met by golden eyes peering down at you. You smile, pulling yourself closer to him once again. “Hi! Thank you!” You slur, your grip on his arm tightening as the joints in your body become loose. 

He gives you a small smile, sliding his arm around your waist. “It’s no problem. Where are you going?” He asks, his low voice directly in your ear. You giggle, the heat from his breath tickling your skin. “Uhh I was going to try and find somewhere to sit!” You say a little too loudly, your face now pressed against his neck. He nods his head, slowly walking the two of you up each stair and toward the hall of closed doors. 

You both stumble your way down the hall, your mouth babbling about this and that as he guides you into a room. Once the door opens, he softly pushes you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. As he turns around, you are laying back on the bed, your legs hanging off the edge as you attempt to kick your shoes off. 

He walks over to you, kneeling by the edge of the bed and picking up your foot. He slowly unzips your boot, letting it fall to the floor before switching to the other side. 

“Y/n...my name is y/n” You mumble, trying your best to prop yourself up and look down at him. 

“Kenma.” He says, his eyes dancing up and down your relaxed body. “Do you need water?” He asks, his voice quiet and steady. You flop back down, nodding your head as he stands up. You close your eyes, humming along to the song you can faintly hear playing from down stairs. Your consciousness fades out along with the ending of the song, losing the battle you had been having with your eyes. 

You feel something wet against your lips, moving your head side to side as you try to pry your eyes open. “You asked for water. Drink it.” Kenma says, a slight annoyance in his voice as he cradles your head in his lap. You finally manage to open one eye, looking up at him as he lifts your head and tilts a bottle of water against your lips. 

You open your mouth, the cold water slowly drizzling down your throat. You had not realized how thirsty you actually were until now. You sit up more, grabbing the bottle from his hand and chugging it. You can feel him chuckle as you gulp down more water, the chilled liquid settling in your alcohol filled stomach. 

“Mmm thank you…” You whisper as you finish the bottle and flop back down. Kenma drags his thumb along your bottom lip, wiping away the stray water droplets. He grunts in response, lightly tapping your cheek. “Hey stay awake and move a little.” He says, tugging your body further up on the bed towards the pillows. You groan, moving your legs onto the bed and shimming up with his help until you are laid correctly in bed. You sigh, turning onto your side as your head settles into the pillow. 

Kenma slides in behind you, his hand softly massaging your hip as his body pushes against yours. Thinking nothing of it, you close your eyes, too drunk at that moment to care that a guy you hardly knew was cuddling up to you. As you close your eyes again, letting sleep take over your body you feel Kenma’s hand shimmy it’s way into the waistband of your leggings. You groan softly, your mind telling you that this is definitely not okay, but your body reacting almost immediately. 

You try to scoot forward, weakly pushing at his hand as he continues further into your pants. You feel his other arm push under your body, and pull you back to him until his chest is flush on your back. 

“Shhhh...You want this...Just lay back and relax.” He whispers in your ear, his teeth softly grazing your ear. 

Even in your drunk state, you knew that you should not be doing it. This should not be happening. You didn’t know this man behind you and your friends did not know where you were. Although you knew this information, your body did not seem to care. As his fingers finally find your core, a soft sign escapes your lips. You can feel his chest as he laughs softly, his fingers moving more confidently. “Your body is telling me everything I need to know. Don’t worry kitten, I’ll make you feel real good.” He whispers as his middle fingers finally connect with your clit. 

A shiver engulfs your body as electric shocks shoot from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You shake your head, grabbing at Kenma’s wrist as his fingers begin making small tight circles around your sensitive button. “Please don’t. I really don’t wan-” Your words catch in your throat as he slips one finger inside you, his lips and tongue dancing across your neck. A small moan escapes you, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“God you’re so fucking tight…”He whispers against your neck, his finger slowly dipping in and out of your wet hole. Between the alcohol, lack of sleep and now the finger slowly fucking you, your head felt heavy and foggy. Kenma slips another finger inside you, the slight stretch bringing you back to reality. Quiet moans and sighs leave your body as your hips start to move in rhythm with his hand. “See. I told you that I was going to make you feel good.” He says. 

You shake your head, panting as you get closer and closer to your release. You didn’t want this, You didn’t know him and honestly you’d told yourself that you were going to wait before jumping into bed with someone in college. Yet here you are, in college, once of the first parties you’ve ever been to, drunk and in bed with a stranger. Your eyes start to tear up as your first orgasm rips through your whole body. 

As your body relaxes, you feel the tugging at your leggings. Before your brain can fully register what is happening, your bottoms are pulled down to your knees. You try to twist around to face Kenma, but he moves quicker. Pushing you onto your stomach, he grabs a pillow and folds it in half, sticking it under your hips. “Listen, I just got you off but now it’s my turn.” He says, a hushed whisper in your ear has his body hovers over yours from behind. 

You can feel the warm head of his cock probing your pussy, teasing and dipping in just slightly. “Kenma...Please don’t do this..” You whisper, turning your head the best you can to look at him. “I won’t tell anyone about this so far but please…” You trail off, trying your best to plead and reason with him. 

“And what would you even tell people? I got drunk, followed a guy upstairs, got off on his fingers and then what?” He laughs, slowly sinking his cock inside you. “I’m pretty sure people would believe you were asking for it...I mean you really were. I saw the way you were looking at me, and if you really didn’t want it, why would you get this wet just from my fingers?”

He grunts as he bottoms out inside you, his breath tickling the back of your neck as his body pushes you into the mattress. You cry out as the air from your lungs is pushed out of you too soon, the stretch of his cock causing you to wiggle around beneath him. 

His lips once again find their way to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your warmed skin. You open your mouth, begging Kenma to stop as his paces begins to pick up. “Pleas-” Your voice is cut short as he shoves two of his fingers down your throat, your gag reflex reacting quickly. “Shhh…” He whispers into your neck, his hips lazily pumping into you. Your eyes close as your body finally wins, your mind being broken down thrust by thrust. You feel yourself clench around his cock, pulling a deep groan from his lips. 

“Fuck you’re such a dirty fucking whore. Your little pussy sucking me in and begging me to fill it up.” He grunts, his hips now moving faster and harder against you. The weight that was pushing you into the bed disappears as Kenma sits up on his knees, pulling your ass flush against him by your hips. You spread your legs wider as your back arches, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. You feel his hand connect with the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your hair. He yanks your head back, his other hand wrapping around your neck. 

The grip on your neck tightens, black spots dancing across your vision. His hips jackhammer against you as your gummy walls pulse, sucking him deeper and deeper each time. His small grunts turn into soft whines and low moaning as he chases his high. “Cum around my cock princess. Cum all over this thick cock.” He says, his voice breathy and low. 

As your mind tries to reason with you, your body takes the lead. You feel your hand moving down the front of your body in search of that last little push you needed. Your fingers connect with your swollen clit causing your body to buck forward into your hand. You push against it harder, a shiver raking through your body as your legs begin to tremble. 

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” You moan out, tears streaming down your face as every muscle in your body convulses. The gushing sounds flood the room as Kemna pounds into you, extending your high even longer. 

As the over-stimulation kicks in you try to inch further from him, begging him to stop as your whole body shakes and convulses against him. His once constant pounding falls out of rhythm, loud, sloppy, desperate humps into your overused hole pushing you towards another orgasm. You look back at him, tears and black eye makeup smeared across your face. You open your mouth, trying to speak out to him but all you could muster was a string of jumbled words and cries.   

He grabs your face, pulling you closer to plunge his tongue into your mouth. His seemingly inexperienced lips match the desperation in his thrusts as he finally tips over the edge. Kenma moans into your mouth, driving his cock as far as he can into your aching cunt before collapsing on top of you, once again pinning you flat against the bed. You push your face into the bed, shaking your head as you feel his cum dripping out and onto the pillow beneath you. 

Kenma pulls out as you relax into the bed, your head finally clearing up as you take in the situation. Before you can move to pull your pants up you see flashes, whipping your head around as he snaps another picture. “Ya know, gotta make sure I document this well. Don’t want you to start twisting the story around tomorrow.” He says, smiling at your photo through his phone as he snaps away. 

You pull your knees up to your chest, trying your best to cover your naked body as Kenma tucks himself back into his pants. He wipes his forehead on his shirt as he starts texting on his phone. “You’re good right?” He says over his shoulder, already reaching for the door handle. You let out a sob, trying to come to grasps with what happened less than 10 minutes ago. As he pulls the door open, you see a shadow of a tall man outside. Kenma laughs, gesturing over to you before you see a black head of hair peek around the edge of the door. 

You hear a loud laugh before the door shuts and you’re stuck in this room with another man you did not know. 

“Hey sweetheart, my friend Kenma just told me how much you helped him out, so I was thinking maybe you’d help me out too?” He says, his voice dripping with condescending sweetness as his fingers quickly work his belt buckle. You shake your head, your mind telling you to run but your body already responding to his towering body.

[morgana-ren]

Pale Imitation

The front page of any porn site is always a marriage of humorous and disturbing, but he can honestly say he wasn’t expecting to see his name at the top of any list that had a direct connection to satiating someone’s libido, yet there it was, plain as day on the top ten.

He didn’t think of himself as particularly narcissistic, but this he had to see.

Rating: E

Warnings: Porn, Masturbation, Yandere, Stalker Shigaraki, Shigaraki is a total creep, Rough sex, Noncon Fantasy/Roleplay

Preemptive Note: Before you continue I just want to note: I'm not a sex worker but I have nothing but the highest regard and respect for them. What ensues in this story is pure kink and fantasy and is not meant to reinforce any harmful/mean stereotypes what so ever. My personal fantasy is degradation and I can't really seem to get off without it so it's a majority of what I write, but I swear to you it was not written with the intent to insult or hurt anyone in the profession! I realize the hardships endured by the men/women/NB/GN in the adult sex work profession and this is just intended to be a pure sexual fantasy and is by no means attempting to reinforce or normalize toxic behaviors in the workplace.

Bad wig? Check .

Poor voice imitation? Check .

Shoddy, unsealed makeup that sloughs off onto the unfortunate scene partner’s skin? Check .

All the tell-tale signs of a bad porno but with one distinct peculiarity that drew his interest.

You know, this certainly wasn’t what he was expecting to see when he settled in for his first nightly wank. The front page of any porn site is always a marriage of humorous and disturbing, but he can honestly say he wasn’t expecting to see his name at the top of any list that had a direct connection to satiating someone’s libido, yet there it was, plain as day on the top ten.

He’s no stranger to the villain kink page. Tons of civilians indulged in their darker fantasies through their nighttime excursions below their pantyline, and being a villain himself, naturally he was curious. Most of it is about what he’d expect. Villains, ancient and new, participating in copulation of all sorts. Some of it is that extremely out of character slow and romantic pornography. Other times, strangely enough, it’s the villains themselves getting taken advantage of. Sometimes by heroes, other times by random people, objects, or even tentacles. It’s interesting, to say the least.

Him though? He’d never seen himself in one, let alone being featured on the front page.

Up until recently, the media and all it’s sinful offshoots had opted to ignore him. However, his recent exploits must’ve caught the attention of the general public, and alongside it, the licentious denizens that dwell within. There had been a few forum posts, a little fan art (most of it flattering), and even a few oddly obsessive fangirls he’d come across. But this? Oh, now this was a whole new caliber.

He didn’t think of himself as particularly narcissistic, but this he had to see.

The guy they’d hired to play him was naturally a flat disappointment; Too bulky, and way too short. He could tell there was a classically handsome man underneath all that poorly done makeup that was meant to make him look pallid and dry. A sad, pathetic, and pale imitation of the real thing, missing some of his scars and moles entirely. The ashy gray wig they used to try to mimic his shaggy, unkempt hair had an awkward cowlick and kept flopping down too far on the actor’s forehead and looked far more dead than even his own unwashed mop. The voice he was using to mimic him was strained and scratchy, far too forced to be comfortable or even remotely realistic. If he had to place it, it sounded like the guy already had a terribly sore throat and had continued yelling for several hours to achieve the ‘desired’ effect.

He hadn’t expected much, but it was still disappointing. Though to be fair, they nailed the clothing, minus the brand of shoes he wears and the exact coat he’d chosen as his signature.

A part of him was ready to shut it off. Whatever lies ahead could only be utterly insulting, right? This grotesque pastiche lifelessly parroting his mannerisms was already curbing his sexual appetite toward something more violent, and not in the way he liked. Yet, out of sheer curiosity, he kept watching. What exactly did the average screenwriting porn cinematographer think he was into anyway?

It was a little ambiguous at first. At least until the shaky camera followed the Walmart brand Shigaraki knock-off down a generic hallway and into a borderline barren room, bringing into frame a quaking young woman tied up on a filthy mattress. After that, it became very quickly apparent just what type of smut he’d stumbled onto.

The camera zooms in on her face, tears leaking from her eyes and leaving trails of thick black makeup and mascara trailing down her cheeks, her begging and pleading muffled by a rag hastily stuffed in her mouth and secured with what appeared to be a bandana tied around her head. She’s clad in nothing but a flimsy tank top with the straps yanked down over her shoulders and a small pair of lace panties, covered in what appears to be made up lacerations and fake bruising. A nice touch, he notes.

He’ll admit, he’s intrigued now. It looks like they got one thing about him right, perhaps two now that he inspects the adult actress hired to play his unfortunate victim. She’s flattering, far more flattering than he expected given the low budget circumstances. Her watery eyes and quaking body coupled with the slight rope burn embedding into her chafing skin is enough to get his legs stirring and his pants tightening. She looks so pretty, so vulnerable behind all the waterworks and thick stage makeup. He thinks, just maybe, he might be able to get into this if he hyper focuses on her.

As his imposter approaches, she pushes her bound legs out, squishing herself back against the wall and as far away as she can manage from the threat encroaching on her personal space.

“Heroes can’t save you now.”

The shallow mockery of his voice grates at his ears, but he’ll admit the comment is on brand. The actor harshly yanks the bandana out of the woman’s mouth, her pouty lips trembling as she begins to grovel, blinking more tears down her swollen cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry! Please just let me go! I won’t tell anyone anything!”

All things considered, she’s convincing enough to get his blood pumping. Tomura readjusts himself in his chair, reaching his hands beneath the band of his sweatpants. If he can ignore her counterpart, he thinks watching her squirm and squeal will get him off. After all, it’s supposed to be ‘him’ violating this cute girl. Maybe if he defocuses his eyes enough, he can pretend it really is.

“I’m going to show you how much of a villain I really am!”

Ugh . Whoever wrote this dialogue clearly had never met him, or probably any real villain for that matter. It’s enough to make him want to retch, but the feel of his own hand on his cock and the soft whimpering of the actress  as the villain stand-in strips off his coat brings him back and makes him throb. The camera moves in to offer her a close up, face dropping and eyes widening in horror as she comes to the “realization” of what he means.

“No! Please! Anything but that!”

She kicks at him, trying to fend him off with bound limbs as he crawls over her onto the bed. A harsh slap to the side of her cheek is enough to quiet her down and allow the assailant to cage her to the bed with one hand, the other clumsily fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. After he shimmies his ill fitting skinny jeans down his thighs, she looks at him with eyes widened in horror, shaking her head erratically.

“No! Please Mister Shigaraki, it’s too big! It won’t fit!”

A hand far too burly to be his wraps around her neck, pointer finger plucked awkwardly upward. “Quiet! You’re my prisoner and you’ll do as I say!”

Just ignore it.

The free hand goes to grab at her tank top, a brief but noticeable pause in the filming leaves her topless with stage prop ash sprinkled along her torso, the ropes around her wiggling legs conveniently gone now. While the cinematic effect was laughably bad, Tomura can’t bring himself to care. Not when her tits are now on display for him to ogle.

Chest bare and heaving, perfect nipples perked to attention just for him. Smooth, creamy skin goose pimpled and tender, so tempting that he's aching to feel her. A quick swipe of his thumb over his sensitive, spongy tip elicits a rumbled groan from deep in his chest. It’s easier now to ignore the shitty portrayal of himself, especially when he can lose himself to the throes of lust and pretend that it actually is his hands wrapped around her little throat, other fingers drifting lower and lower down her trembling belly.

A quick hook around the seam of her panties and they’re ripped clean from her hips, legs splayed and leaving her pussy center frame, already wet and glistening. He swallows hard, the sight enough to make him salivate. She fumbles around beneath him, desperate to buck him off, but it’s to no avail. Fingers, his fingers, tease the entrance to her tight little hole, slipping one finger, and then two inside, oscillating in and out preparing her to take all of him. Just like she said, he’s so big. He doesn’t want to hurt her, not like that.

After that, it’s all too easy for him to slip into his fantasy. He strokes his cock in tandem with the pumping of the fingers, pausing only briefly as the girl mewls as the fingers slip out and the tip of his cock is aligned with her little entrance. He pistons his own hips as it slams inside, head reeling back on the edge of his chair.

The high pitched whine that escapes her throat as the fake buries himself deep inside has him biting his lip, slowing his hand by force on his shaft. Fuck, even her moans are hot. Her bouncing tits and staggered breathing as his imposter rails into her has him enraptured. The subtle way she leans into the hand on her throat, back arched off the filthy mattress, face expressing clear distress but body betraying her clever act.

It matters little that she’s being paid to partake in the scene with ‘him’. The fact she was open to it says more than he could have hoped to know, and clearly she’s enjoying the treatment. His hazy eyes focus in on her face, working his hand harder with every little nuance she gifts him. The twitch of arms as her nails imbed themselves into her palms, the parting of her moist lips. He’d be willing to bet her tongue could work magic, taking him all the way to the back of her throat. God, she’d look so cute like that. Hands tied behind her back, a sloppy, drooling mess around his dick.

“S-Shigaraki! You’re too rough!”

The hand clamped around her throat tightens, her final word more of a croak.

“You like it, you little slut!”

At least there’s one thing him and this mediocre porn actor can agree on; she certainly does like it. Rolling her hips against him and wailing in a way that has him wonderfully immersed in his fantasy. Hearing his name on those sighs only strengthen his hold, he can practically feel the warmth of her skin, indulge himself in the wet, clenching tightness of her cunt.

It’s fucking insulting that this trash gets to wear his skin, steal his countenance to fuck her. It should be him. If this whelp could get her all hot and bothered, just imagining what the real thing could do sends the remaining blood reserves rushing between his thighs, prick pulsing even harder in his palm. Yeah, he could get this little bitch squealing. She’d fucking like it too, judging by the look on her face as she gets plowed by a man wearing his visage.

Oh, he’d make her scream. Leave real bruising in place of that cheap costume makeup they’d so lazily applied to her naked form. Truth be told, the video itself was rather boring. He’d only kept watching because of how enraptured he was with the little witch being stuffed full of cock by his imitation. He’d never really been taken with an adult actress before but this one? Oh yes, he could really get into her.

He wasn’t sure what it was about her. So pretty to him, so deliciously pliable, so completely worked up about a villain using her as a toy, pumping in and out of her warm little pussy until he fills her with his hot cum and she’s overflowing with every fluid thrust. Sweet, sensitive neck exposed just for him to bite and abuse. Face stained with tears, puffy cheeks just aching to be squeezed and smacked. Probably tastes like rapture, eager to swallow whatever he decides to spill into her mouth.

And she could take it. He just knows it. Bent over for him, any hole he pleases free for him to use, hand-shaped welts raising on the swell of her ass. Fingers fisting her hair and arching that cute face back to look directly at him as he spits between her open and waiting lips. She’d swallow it like a good girl, just like a good girl, he knows she would.

He works himself faster, his own breathy whines joining the cacophony of licentiousness that echoes in his eardrums. His imagination shifts into overdrive, clumsy, irregular strokes of his hand tenting and deflating the crotch of his sweats. Soft, pillowy tits bulging through his fingertips as he kneads them, sucking on those tender nipples until they harden just for him. Fucking her mouth until her lips are swollen and red, face covered in a mixture of drool and cum with lipstick smeared around her cheeks. Legs locked around his narrow waist as he slams into her repeatedly, chanting his name and begging him incoherently not to stop, never to stop.

“P-please don’t cum inside me! Please- I-“

Oh, he’d cum deep inside. He’ll cum anywhere he wants on his little whore until it’s slick and dripping. He’ll tie her up, smudging it across her broken expression and let it dry nice and thick. Slip his cum covered thumb into her mouth and then ignore her until her thighs are grinding together and she’s begging for his thick cock again, any way he wants her.

Fuck- fuck she’d love it too. Ride him until each slap of her ass on his bony hips made his cock punch hard against her cervix, crying in pleasure and pain but never stopping until he allowed her. Dig his nails into her back, his teeth into her flesh and mark her up real good, let everyone who sees her know just what she’s been up to with him-

“Shigaraki! Fuck! Shi-Shigaraki!”

His name spills from her lips in a needy sob, voice cracking and so utterly genuine that it sends him over the edge. His cock throbs and stutters in his hand, shooting jets of sticky white seed all over the inside of his black sweat pants and staining his fingers. His entire body shudders, legs stiffening and balls tightening and clenching as his cum spills in fat ropes across the fabric. Try as he might to focus on her face as she cums for him, he simply can’t, eyes slamming shut and mouth left agape as a strangled cry erupts from his throat.

He gives a few subconscious pumps into his hand as searing pleasure crackles through his body, toes curling in his shoes as his lower body lifts off the chair to chase his high. Millions of images flash across his mind, the foremost of which is her, greedy eyes hungry for pleasure only he can give her, silky cunt milking him eagerly. A jagged tooth bites a little too hard into his blistered lip, enough to crack it open but he’s too submerged in bliss to notice. The only thing he can feel is her.

His thighs tremble as his body falls back down into the worn computer chair, orgasm leaving his entire body feeling weak and drained.  His breath comes in heaves, gulping down air as he tries his best to shake off the residual searing pleasure so hot it almost hurts. Overstimulation looms on the horizon and his heavy eyes drift open, feeling so drowsy now he can hardly keep them apart. The orange bar at the bottom of the video is all the way to the right, the video having concluded itself.

He’s never cum so hard in his life.

Her name. He needed to know her name. He needed to know everything .

He doesn’t bother reaching for the tissues. He simply withdraws his hand from his waistband, wiping his mess onto the knee of his pant leg before grabbing his mouse and scouring the page for any crumb of information he can find. The comments, while amusing, are hardly helpful.

So hot xx thanks

Who’s the guy even supposed to be?

This babe is so hot, luv her stuff everytime

Yall r gunna get rekt when he sees this shit lol

any sexy girls wanna reenact this with me? Hmu

I’m a girl and I love this!

Wish he’d do that to me <.<

He’d dwell on all of that later. For now, he settles for a quick search through the uploader’s account. It’s a small studio, only a few films out to date, most of which revolve around taboo relationships between villains and society. Following a hyperlink to their main website leads him to bio, complete with her stage name and picture, and even another link leading to an interview with a small time adult magazine, an article called “Cum to the Dark Side” that he bookmarks for later reading.

Even post-cum, she’s just as beautiful. Enchanting, sultry smile and cheeky little expression in her picture. Maybe it’s fate that he stumbled upon her. Maybe she really was just that good at acting and she didn’t have a thing for him at all. Either way, he wants some time with the talent. For research, of course.

Her personal details, as expected, are hidden. They go the lengths to protect their employees it seems. What isn’t hidden, however, is the studio’s number.

He thinks he can work with that.