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#because he's gonna take a knife to the chest
arceal-doodles · 2 years
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when the human goes thru town all dusty—
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neckromantics · 5 months
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We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.
How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?
You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.
You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.
He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.
He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.
Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)
At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.
He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.
It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.
You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.
Astarion's eyes go heavy.
Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.
You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.
You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.
There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.
You cling to him like a lifeline.
Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.
And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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easter day
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words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dad!rafe, mom!reader, fluffy and cute, talk of pregnancy, p in v sex
“when are they getting here?” rafe questions, hands on your hips, leaning over your shoulder to look at the counter where you're finishing frosting the sugar cookies with various pastel colors.
“uhh…” you glance at the clock. “any minute now.” you set down the piping bag as you finish the last detail and turn to look at rafe, changing your voice to a whisper. “are all the eggs hidden?”
“yup.” he nods. “and i already told harper that the small blue ones are for her brother so to let him get the easy ones. the easter bunny told me specifically.”
“smart.” you chuckle, letting rafe pull you in and press your lips together.
“i do just have one complaint.” rafe says, hands moving from your hips to grip your bum. 
“and what would that be?” you look at your husband, one eyebrow raised.
“this dress.” rafe shakes his head. “you look too good in it, you're practically begging me to put a third kid in you.”
“not until elijah is two, remember?” you remind rafe.
“he's 18 months, that's practically two!” rafe lies through his teeth, his grin turning mischievous, knowing just how big of a difference six months can make in a baby's development.
“ill tell you what…” you run your hands up rafes chest. “why don't we sneak away when my parents get here? you know they act like we don't exist anyways.”
you can't blame them, harper just turned 5 and is a handful, which is only added to by elijah. while he's an angel, he's still a toddler and will get into anything and everything if you turn your back for even a minute.
“sounds perfect.” rafe gives you another kiss as harper runs into the kitchen, elijah still distracted in the corner in his bouncer.
“mommy!” she squeals, launching herself at you. you pick her up and easily turn her so she's on your hip. “mommy, mommy.” she continues. “the easter bunny came! i saw eggs in the backyard!”
“oh, yay!” you bounce her slightly as elijah giggles, reacting to harper's excitement. rafe heads to the bouncer and lifts him out.
“and look, mama made cookies.” you show her the frosted sugar cookie eggs and baby chicks. “and i left a couple unfrosted for you to do with grandma and grandpa!”
harper lets out another squeal and wiggles excitedly. “elijah, gammy and gamps are coming over!”
rafe chuckles at her mispronunciation. it started when she was first learning to talk and their names haven't changed since, even elijah calling them their nicknames.
there's a knock at the door and harper wiggles out of your arms to run towards the front, quickly followed by you and rafe, who unabashedly checks you out as harper opens the door to your parents.
“harper!” your mom steps in, wrapping her in a big hug, completing it with pressing kisses all over her face.
“and there's my little man.” your dad takes elijah from rafes arms, whose happy to give him up, itching to get that alone time with you.
you quickly usher your parents in, showing them the unfrosted cookies and other activities to keep your kids attention. 
“rafe and i are gonna go finish their easter baskets.” in truth you've had their baskets finished for a week now, but there's no reason for them to know that.
“okay, that's fine dear.” your mom says, barely glancing to you as harper grabs a butter knife covered in pink frosting.
you grab your husband's hand, and he practically sprints up the stairs, pulling you right along with him into your bedroom.
“god, you knew this would happen didn't you?” rafe questions, hands gripping at your dress, pulling it up as he backs you up towards your bed, keeping the door slightly cracked so you can hear if anyone comes up the stairs. “you know i can't resist this dress.”
you keep your sundresses at the front of your closet, wearing them whenever you find a reason to, purely because of how rafe reacts to them.
“stop talking and hurry up.” you chastise rafe, fingers swiftly undoing the buttons of his crisp shirt until your hands can delve in and feel his muscles.
“yes, ma’am.” rafe smirks, lowering you onto the bed as his lips find yours again, fingers coming to your underwear to feel the wet spot that has started to form. his fingers swipe over the material until you’re moaning quietly, eyes shut.
“god, need to get inside you.” rafe groans, standing to undo his shorts and grab a condom from the nightstand as you take your underwear off, tossing them in the general direction of your hamper. 
you use the moment of silence to listen, seeing if you can hear anything coming from downstairs, but all seems to be calm as rafe pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, lining up his cock with your entrance.
rafe sinks in slowly with a low groan as you gasp, gripping the bed sheets. its been far too long since you’ve been able to have a moment alone like this.
“so good, mama.” rafe wraps your legs around his hips as he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you, thumb already rubbing over your clit, knowing you both need to cum and get downstairs as soon as possible.
“yeah, feels good.” you whine, covering your mouth with your palm as you let out noises, rafe always able to get the sounds out of you even when you should be quiet.
rafe moves faster, cock pushing at your walls, stretching you open for his length.
“shit.” rafe groans. “we need to convince your parents or aunt wheezie to take them for a weekend.”
“mmm, that’s exactly what we need.” you nod. you know that you’d probably end up pregnant again if you had an uninterrupted weekend with rafe, you already feel the urge to reach down and pull the condom off of him, but the thought of dealing with elijah at his current age while pregnant has your mind clearing quickly.
“or we can start sending elijah to daycare once a week.” rafe says, glad that the conversation is helping quell his orgasm somewhat, not wanting to burst inside of you too early.
“fuck, whatever it takes to get more of this.” you push at rafes stomach. he takes a step back as you flip over on the bed, toes touching the floor as you turn onto your stomach.
“god, i wanna marry you all over again.” rafe pushes quickly back insides, thrusts now speeding up as his hands grip your ass, squeezing it and watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.
you push your hand below your body to touch your clit, rubbing it in pace with rafes cock pushing inside of you, pressing your face into the mattress to drown out your noises.
“gonna cum, baby.” rafe warns, cock swelling inside of you before hes releasing with one more deep thrust, triggering your own orgasm as your body shakes.
rafe pulls out, flipping your dress back down over your ass just in case someone sneaks upstairs as he discards of the condom and redresses before heading back to you, helping you turn over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“i love you.” rafe coos, pressing kisses to the top of your head as you lean against him.
“i love you too.” you take his hand in his. “and we should get back downstairs before they get suspicious.”
“absolutely.” rafe nods, following you out the bedroom and down the stairs, leaning in to whisper in your ear when he sees everyone is still occupied with frosting cookies, a smear of orange frosting across harpers nose. “and don’t think i forgot that you aren’t wearing panties anymore.”
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buckyalpine · 8 months
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Bucky can’t stand you
Smuttay Smuttay. Imagine Bucky finding you to be the most infuriating person he's ever met in his entire life. He used to strongly believe you should never hit a woman. Being a man from the 40's, he believed that with his entire heart and soul because he was one of the few who hated the way some women were treated by their husbands.
That was until he met you.
God, he was ready to beat your ass.
"Didn't you say you'd never hit a woman" Sam snorted while Bucky's jaw ticked, having complained about you for half an hour straight while you went off the plan completely, taking the mission into your own hands.
"That's not a woman, that's the devil spawn" Bucky said incredulously, watching you make your way to the target with a flirty smirk on your face "How and why is she like this"
"Shut up" you hissed through the coms, your hips swaying as you walked away. "
You pissed him off and you made his cock hard.
You ran your mouth to no end and you made him leak.
You had such an attitude and he'd masturbated d to you more times than he could count.
He hated you.
He hated you so much.
"You're gonna screw this mission up if you keep acting like a desperate whore" Bucky growled as you slinked onto the targets lap, effortlessly pocketing the pen drive from his blazer while skimming your hands all over him. The man was none the wiser, groping your ass, the action making Bucky's blood pressure boil.
You whispered something in his ear before hopping off, throwing a wink over your shoulder before disappearing through the exit of the bar and into the getaway car, signaling to Sam and Bucky that you were successful.
He doesn't breathe a word to you until you were all a the safehouse, glaring at you the entire time while pouring himself a drink.
"Try not to kill each other, I'm going to bed" Sam threw his hands up in defeat, seeing as the both of you would never reach a truce. You shrugged, rolling your eyes at the soldier, making your way to your room instead. Bucky down the dark liquid that burned his throat before following you, his brooding figure brushing your back as you entered your room.
"There a problem Barnes?" You sassed, gasping when he gripped your hair and yanked you back, shoving you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to make your breaths lighter, his pupils dilated to 100.
"You have a real problem, you know that?" He growled lowly making your stomach flip, your pulse racing a the scent of his cologne when he stood so close to you.
"Yeah? And whats that" your attitude faltered as he pressed his chest against yours, his warm breath fanning on your face.
"You. Never. Listen. It's infuriating. So tell me. What should I do" It took everything in him not to push you down onto your knees, forcing your into submission for once. "You're a brat" He hissed, eyes growing wide when he could smell your arousal which you tried to hide, your thighs squeezing together giving you away.
"Fuck this" Bucky tossed you onto the bed, pulling out the switch blade he had in his pocket. Your dress was sliced off before you could blink, your lingerie torn off next.
"Bucky, what-
Before you could say anything else, he gripped your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together, making you pout with a needy whimper. He gave you a satisfied smirk, running the handle of the knife through your folds, gathering your slick before licking it clean off with a groan.
"M'gonna fuck you and you're gonna take it, then you're gonna thank your Sargent for fucking the brat out of you, understand?"
You nodded, yelping when he smacked your cheek, shaking his head.
"Use your words, kitten"
"Yes, Sargent" You whispered, your heart hammering out of your chest as he started to undress himself, his belt buckle hitting the floor. A new wave of arousal pooled between your legs as he stood naked before you, his cock standing tall and proud. He cocked an eye brow at the way you stared at him, practically drooling as he pumped his length a few times.
He crawled onto the bed, shoving your legs apart, flicking his cock through your folds and slamming into you without warning, making you take all of him at once.
You cried out in pleasure, your arms and legs wrapping around him to ground yourself some how, your cunt fluttering and struggling to accommodate for his girth.
"Buck-Sargent-too-s'too thick" You moaned as he drew his hips back and started to pound into you, snarling with pleasure at the feelings of your nails raking down his back. "SARGENT PLEASE"
"Thats right, beg your Sargent to stop baby, cry when I ruin you with my fat cock" He sat back on his heels, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper angle, your eyes rolling back until they nearly crossed. "Lookit you going all dumb on my cock baby, such a needy little pussy"
You didn't get a chance to respond, squeaking when he manhandled you till your face was pushed against the mattress with your ass in the air. He spanked your ass raw, shoving his cock back in, setting in a brutal pace.
"Always acting so sassy, making my dick so hard with those stupid skimpy outfits of yours. You're a little slut but you're my slut, understand kitten?"
"Y-Yes-yes-yes-so-good don'on god don't stop" You slurred out, as he rammed into your pussy, the headboard denting the wall with each thrust, slamming your hips back against him.
"That's it. Fucking take it, Nast little slut, sitting in any mans lap, now look at you, huh. Look whose cock you're crying over lil mama, tell me whose cock your all soaked for"
"Yours sargent! all for-you" You panted while his sinful fingers moved to rub your clit, his pace growing sloppy, blinding pleasure starting to consume you both.
"OH FUCKKK I'm gonna cum!!" You cried out, wailing into the sheets, the vulgar sounds of skin on skin carrying through the room. Bucky moaned, fucking you harder, his head thrown back feeling your pussy suck him in deeper.
"Cum, cum on my dick, c'mon baby, give it to me, thats it lil mama, milk my cock-shit-i'm cumming!" Bucky let out a guttural moan feeling you squeeze and pulse around his cock, stilling his hips as he throbbed ropes of his spend into you. You both collapsed onto the bed, blindly reaching for each other with out saying another word, letting soft kisses and cuddles throughout the night do the rest of the talking.
-
"Morning Sam-
"You both owe me money for therapy"
"Sam-
"You shut up before I pawn a piece of that arm"
"Sam-
"You went at it like rabbits"
"Sam-
"I think the bed almost broke into my room"
"Sam-
"I'm never calling you Sargent again, you've tainted the word for me"
"Sam-
"My ears have never been so violated"
Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you together. You giggled while Sam gagged in the background again (he 100% approves of you two together but he'll never tell Bucky that).
"Nasty fucks"
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suiana · 11 months
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✎ yandere! slasher who's a mass murderer and doesn't discriminate when he kills people! he doesn't care about your gender, height... nothing! as long as he deems you a 'bad' person you're dead :3
✎ yandere! slasher who killed one of your friends because he was actually a big pervert who took nude photos of you?1!1! wait whys he kinda... 🤤
✎ yandere! slasher who didn't expect to be chased around by you after your friend's death. wait he's a killer! a killer! why are you fawning after him-?!
✎ yandere! slasher who's the traumatized while you're the traumatizer 😈😈 #couplegoals fr because you should get yourself a big scary looking man who's actually a huge softie on the inside. plus he also gets flustered by all of your acts of affection and that's extra cute!!
"..."
"why are you just staring at me like that?"
"..."
"say something!!!"
you frown at the killer as he shrugs and wipes the blood off his knife. you stare in horror as the blood drips to the ground, staining your newly cleaned floor. he then comes close to you, pointing the knife at your chest before making a series of rapid stabbing motions near your chest area.
however, you merely rolled your eyes at the killer, stepped close to him and stared at the holes in his bloody mask. seriously! the nerve that he had to just come into your home and do such a thing! you had to teach him a lesson.
"baby we've talked about this!"
you sigh as you push the knife away with your finger.
"don't come in the house with blood all over yourself! it's so hard to get rid of it!"
you let out an irritated click of the tongue as your frown deepens. the slasher only let's out a whine in response as he looks at you. to be honest it was hard to stay mad at him, especially when he's this adorable.
thinking about it, he's like a giant puppy. cute and adorable on the inside but big and scary on the outside. you looked at the masked male as he desperately tries to make up some reason as to why he forgot. but it doesn't matter, you weren't listening anyways. how could you? you were too focused on the fact that he came into your house and stained the floor with blood! right after you finished mopping too!
you couldn't let this slide.
"mop the floor and I'll forgive you."
you huff as you turn away from him. you then made your way to your bedroom as the male sighs in relief, thankful that it was all you asked him to do. but he forgot the fact that blood was hard to get rid of. especially when he had stepped all over your living room and made a mess everywhere.
"...this is gonna take forever."
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darklordofthesimp · 2 years
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Anything (König x Reader)
The 1st instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: I have no idea how we got here
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?
Warnings: Graphic description of violence || Graphic description of injury || Graphic language
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“You’re a liability.”
The words rang like a church bell. You were never one for petty violence but in that moment, after he’d so calmly said the words, you thought that you just might kill him.
“A liability?” You hissed, glaring at your superior like he’d grown two heads. “I’m a sniper, Sir, not a fucking ninja.”
The captain simply shifted his weight lazily, unfazed by your temper. He’d dealt with it many times throughout the years but it hadn’t bothered him because you weren’t inherently his. You were somebody else’s spitfire, under another unit’s command; but now you were part of the 141 and you needed to learn.
“Come on, Birdy. You know I’m right.”
Birdy.
You had Soap to thank for the name. ‘Snipers and birds both shit on people from above’. It wasn’t creative and honestly you could have thought of one hundred better names to offer, but once Ghost started addressing you by Birdy, it was set in stone.
When you said nothing, he continued.
“You can’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag,” he scoffed, swallowing a snort when your eyes widened. “Sniper’s need to defend themselves too, Birdy. You learnt that the hard way, remember?”
How could you not?
The knife wound had healed but the memory of it had not. Images of the hooded man wedging a blade into your shoulder flickered across your vision. Fists bearing down onto your jaw. Fingers wrapped around your throat.
A chill skittered across your skin.
“So, what’s your suggestion?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
When the corner of Price’s mouth quirked upward, you’d already begun to regret asking.
“Simple, really.” He shrugged, “someone’s gonna train ya.”
Your stomach dropped and a cold shiver traced the length of your spine.
“Who, Sir?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ghost’s not here. Everyone’s on leave.”
Price smirked.
“Not everyone.”
___
You felt nauseas.
Anxiety had your stomach in a death grip, and it was all you could do to not throw up. Pacing up and down the gym mats, you tried to cool your nerves.
There was only one person that had remained a complete anomaly to you and now he’d been given literal permission to beat the shit out of you.
Training.
You remembered what they loved to call ‘training’ at your old unit. You’d never been the fastest or the strongest, that was not your job. You were the one who could take make an impossible shot a kilometre away, but that’s not what ‘training’ entailed.
Your body ached at the memory.
There was a small noise by the doorway and your body stiffened. He was letting you know that he was there, his equivalent of a knock.
You both knew that he could have had you on your back whenever he pleased.
“König.” You acknowledged him as confidently as you could, turning to face the beast head on.
The giant stood in the doorway looking like the fucking bogey man himself.
“Birdy,” König inclined his head. Those dark, watchful eyes observed you from beneath his hood, taking in your visage. Heat licked the back of your neck and you began to sweat under his gaze.
He was clad in his usual getup from the waist down, the tactical cargo pants and the hefty boots being his barracks favourite. It was the hoodie that had caught you by surprise, you’d seen it a few times in passing, but up close it rendered you breathless.
“I didn’t realize you were staying with the 141,” you said, swallowing nervously as he stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame above.
This was a sick, sick joke.
“My transfer was approved,” was the only explanation that he offered you.
You knew, logically, that what had happened between the both of you had been a misunderstanding. It was a communication failure on behalf of the brass that had almost gotten you killed but the idea of working with him, training with him, made your stomach drop.
König’s hands got to work removing his gloves and the memory of those fingers wrapped around your throat made you flinch.
You’d set up a sniper’s nest atop the rooftop, watching the entrance of the building the 141 was infiltrating. They were going to flush out the target and send him running right into your line of fire.
No-one had been informed of KorTac’s involvement.
You’d heard König before you’d seen him, the dismantling of your trip mine giving you enough indication to roll onto your back to investigate. By then, he was already upon you.
You’d kicked the rifle from his hands but that was where your advantage finished. He’d dragged you by your ankles from your weapon, straddling your flailing body as he got to work. The knife he’d brandished stabbed into your flesh violently, and at first, you’d thought he only punched you.
Until the searing hot pain bloomed across your body and blood sprayed across his hood.
Those emerald eyes were wild and hard as he gripped your face over your balaclava. You couldn’t think to react, dizzied by the agony of knife he twisted into your skin. His palm covered the entirety of your features, fingers tight against your temples as he pulled your head forward then smashed it back into the concrete.
You thought your skull had exploded.
Fists ploughed into your jaw but it was as though you were numb now. Finally, his fingers were drawn to your throat, squeezing tightly as he leaned in. The cloth of his hood brushed against your battered body, filling the space between you as his lips pressed against your ear.
“Your fight is finished,” he hissed heatedly. Then König pressed down into your skin.
You don’t remember what happened afterward. You knew that he’d been called off by his chain-of-command just in time to stop himself from ending your life, but that was according to Soap.
You were in a coma for two weeks.
It took you months to recover.
And only once you came back to work, fit to fight and ready to go, had you discovered that König had applied to transfer into the 141 shortly after the incident. KorTac had offered him up to fill in your position while you recovered.
Not only had the bastard nearly killed you but he’d taken your place.
Now that you were back, he would lose his place as a sniper and be back to running with the team on the ground.
König watched you carefully from where he stood.
“You’re my instructor,” you said plainly, stating the obvious. “Price made you my hand-to-hand combat trainer.
“Ironic, isn’t it,” his voice came quietly from beneath the hood, a small snort following in suit.
You would have laughed had you not been so fucking terrified. You were about to take your place back on the team, a position this giant clearly wanted and now he was given the chance to put you back into the hospital with no questions asked.
You wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. König was a mountain of a man, a force to be reckoned with, and while he tried to make himself as disarming as possible it was implausible to hide that frame.
“Did you want to get started?” König asked, leaning his hip against the table beside him. He was so casual for someone who had nearly killed you.
“No,” you said simply.
“Are you not up for this?” König ventured carefully, pushing off the bench and taking a slow step towards you. Your heart thrashed against your ribs at his approaching figure and you forced yourself to stay still. “You still have bruising-“
“That’s what happens when someone shatters your fucking face, cunt,” you snapped, casting your gaze from his. You were hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, everyone had danced around your condition for so long. No one spoke about how fucking ugly you looked as you tried to recover.
“It was an accident,” his voice was hard, almost bewildered at your sudden aggression. “We both paid the price for someone else’s mistakes.”  
“Don’t talk to me about paying the price, you fucker,” you snapped, shoving against his chest. König yielded a step and it infuriated you even further to know that he’d allowed it. “You got the fucking job you wanted, you got the transfer you wanted, you got the training you wanted. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but-“
“You wanna know what I got?” You snapped, shoving him harder this time. König’s eyes narrowed and he snatched your wrists, holding them against his ribs to stop your assault. You continued anyway, walking his body backward until his heels hit the wall. “I got put into a fucking coma.”  
König’s gaze softened, his chest heaving beneath your hands. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your fists, you could hear his breaths grow ragged.
“I know,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your wrists. “I was assigned to watch over your bed for those two weeks."
You stared at him for a long moment, sniffling and gasping for air after your rant. König lowered his head and his grip loosened.
“What I did to you…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. How ugly must you have become that he couldn’t withstand looking at his own handiwork?
You turned around, hiding the hot tears forming along your lashes. You were so fucking ashamed by the terror gripping your throat, embarrassed by how much your image affected you. You hated feeling disgusting. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you at all times it was suffocating you, they gawked and stared and whispered about how your 'pretty face was ruined.'
You began to understand why people wear masks.
“You ruined me,” you rasped. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”
König was silent from behind you, mulling over your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your outburst. He had stabbed you, shattered your skull, broken your nose and jaw and nearly snapped your neck- he deserved to listen to you yell at him at the very least.
Fingers slid over your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him. You tugged against his hold half-heartedly, vision swimming beneath never-ending tears.
“Look at me, Birdy.” His voice was soft and pleading, his hand slowly moving to cup your bruised jaw. You froze as he manoeuvred you, forcing you to face him square on. König slowly lowered himself to rest a knee on the ground, leaving him still taller than you but closer to eye level.
With the hand that was free, he reached for his hood. You swallowed nervously as he carefully pulled it from his head, resting the cloth on his upright knee.
Dirty blonde hair lay splayed across his forehead, the length curling by his ears. Dark brows framed the emerald gaze that watched you intently, taking in your visage as you observed him. All of him.
The scars caught your attention.
Winding from his upper lip, across his eye and leaving a line through his brow, the winding length of damaged skin presented itself. There was another scar along the bridge of his nose that travelled across the width of his cheekbone and into his hair.
“Do I…” König trailed off, full lips parting as he mused over his next words. You stared in awe at the innocence of the freckles smattered across his features. “Are you afraid of me?”
You said nothing for a long moment, mesmerized by the features of a man that had haunted your thoughts for months. He’d been the centre of your existence for so long, the reason you ached and the reason you’d bled. König had plagued your every waking moment ever since the incident, and now he knelt before you. He was on his knees baring his vulnerabilities to you, knowing you could destroy him with it.
“Of course,” you whispered; your voice shaky as you met his gaze.
König’s expression became pleading, “then let me teach you how to beat me.”
His thumb lightly caressed your purple cheek, brows furrowed as he took in his handiwork. “Let me pay for what I’ve done by teaching you how to never let it happen again. And when you finally beat me, revenge will be yours and you may do as you wish.”
“Anything I want?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.
A wry, sad smile pulled at the corner of König’s mouth.
“Anything, mein vöglein.”
My little bird.
____
Next Chapter
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luveline · 2 months
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Babe congrats on quitting!!!
I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more
R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?
thank you!!
You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk. 
“I’m fine.” 
“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?” 
It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.” 
Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too. 
James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork. 
He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively. 
“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.” 
“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?” 
“It’s nothing.” 
James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?” 
Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say. 
“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.
You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.” 
“What happened?” 
You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face. 
His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.” 
“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.” 
He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.” 
You frown at one another. “Why not?” 
“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?” 
“No,” you mumble. 
“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again. 
“I’m consistently below average.” 
“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.” 
Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does. 
He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.” 
“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.” 
“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?” 
You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?
When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.
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jarofstyles · 4 days
Note
Blurb idea: dark Harry undressing y/n for the first time and she’s really shy and he’s like so in awe of her and like he thinks her underwear is so cute with bows😭 extra-daddy kink
Omg wait this is good…. I may continue it as a one shot if people like it
Check out our Patreon
Warning- knife play, daddy kink, dark h and he’s slightly crazy but oh well
——
“Look at that…” he crooned, tapping the blunt side of the knife over the smooth cotton. “Aren’t these just precious, little dove?”
He could see her chest rising and falling in what he assumed was both anticipation and slight fear. She’d gasped so pretty when he pulled the knife out to cut off the pathetic excuse of a skirt she she’d worn out tonight, but the blade was increasingly close to her skin. He wouldn’t cut her, no, but he could tell from their previous encounters that his little bird liked to be scared. Just a little bit.
“I didn’t… I didn’t know you’d see them.” She stuttered, laid out in his bed. In fact, she’d thought he was ignoring her this whole week. “You didn’t text me back and I wasn’t… I thought you got tired of talking to me.”
“Oh, darling…” he clicked his tongue, face softening slightly. “Never. I was just busy with my… errands.” He smirked at the connotation. Y/N had met him because she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to, and instead of threatening her and making her run off with fear stricken into her heart? He’d decided to comfort her, take her for some hot cocoa and dropped her off at home. It had been entirely her want to kiss, which he’d done so greedily before leaving her.
Since then he hadn’t been able to leave her alone.
“Oh.” She whispered, eyes going back down to the cool metal against her skin. “I thought maybe I wasn’t so good last time.”
Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes as he thumbed over the gusset of her panties. The wet patch was growing, making him feel all the more smug as her breathing hitched. “You think having my load all over that pretty face was me being displeased?” He shook his head at how ridiculous his bird was. “No. I took some pretty pictures and made myself cum a few times when I was away. But the last three days I held off so I’d have some for you. I think you liked it a lot last time, didn’t you?” He mumbled, watching her eyes widen. His girl was shy, but it was good he knew exactly how to read her.
“You did. Tell Daddy y’liked it.” He encouraged her with a kiss to her tummy, eyes meeting hers. “Go one. We both know you know how to use that pretty mouth.”
“I-I liked it, Daddy.” She breathed, hips bucking slightly into his thumb. “I liked it so much.”
A smile split his face as he watched her eyes round out. “That’s my girl. You do so well, y’know that? Even after I’ve corrupted you a bit and made you do all sorts of nasty things for me, you’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever met. That’s why I keep you.” Another kiss was placed to her sternum as he took the knife from her panties and split her shirt, ignoring the squeak of protest as the tattered fabric was opened to expose a match bra. A light pink with a matching bow in the middle of her tits, just like the taunting one on the waistband of her panties.
“Christ, you’re perfect.” He rubbed his face against her breasts, moving up with sloppy kisses all over her chest. “I love these things. So sweet. Almost could fool me into thinking you’ve got no idea on what to do with a cock, but I’ve taught you so well.” The knife was tossed to the side as his fingers tugged the cup of the bra down, lazily sucking one of her nipples into his mouth for a few seconds. Her hands gripped at his hair in surprise, the choked whimper making his cock twitch. “Was gonna cut these off, cause y’know Daddy hates shit getting in the way of my view but… god, I think M’gonna leave them on. Stain them with my cum. What do you think about that, baby? Gonna let me?”
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wynnyfryd · 8 months
Text
Trailer Park Steve AU
part 1
“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.
Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”
“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”
Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”
Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”
He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.
A lot of people aren’t around anymore.
Nobody fights for fallen kings.
So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.
From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.
Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)
“You want to try that again?”
Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.
Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.
Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”
Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”
Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.
A little stiff in his jeans.
When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.
“M’row,” says the cat.
There’s a dead bird at her feet.
part 3
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moonstruckme · 24 days
Note
ok ok, so you said you wanted some ideas for a camp counselor James, so I am here to supply one! What if reader was teaching the kids lashings and knots, and when cutting the rope with a pocket knife, their hand slips and they cut themselves, so reader tells one of the kids to get the nurse (because their hand is bleeding and they can't stand from the grass) but the kid comes back with James instead (because the kid panicked and James is the first person she saw) and James helps reader get to the nurse while fretting over their hand
Thank you for requesting angel!
cw: blood
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 827 words
A hiss escapes you as the knife slices across your hand. You drop it and your fist clenches closed on instinct, but not before the kids watching you see. 
“Are you okay?” 
“Did you cut yourself?” 
“Do we call 999?”
“No, it’s okay,” you say, keeping the pain out of your voice. “Accidents happen. This is why I’m the only one who gets to use the knife, see?” You take a second to pray it’s not bad, but when you open your hand blood spills onto the grass beneath. 
You squeeze it shut again, breathing through the wave of dizziness that nearly takes you under. The only thing worse than scaring your kids by bleeding all over the place would be traumatizing them by passing out on your way to the nurse. 
“Mia.” You look to the most responsible girl in your cabin with the most reassuring smile you can piece together. “Can you go get the nurse for me, please?” 
She nods, eyes wide, and sets off. You spend the next couple of minutes trying to distract your kids and yourself, but when an adult-sized shadow falls over you and you look up in relief you very nearly swoon for different reasons. 
“Hey.” James’ brow is puckered. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but he looks lovely anyways. He probably can’t help that. “I heard we’ve had an accident.” 
“Sorry,” Mia pipes up, “I couldn’t remember where the nurse’s office was, and I—” 
“It’s okay,” you tell her, making your voice slow and soothing to combat her squeakish one. “You did your best, and I appreciate it.” 
James flashes her a smile about ten times more effective than your own. “You have good instincts. Really, no one’s more equipped to help your fearless leader than me.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, softening his voice as he leans down close to you. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m worried I’m gonna pass out,” you admit. 
“Can I have a look?” 
“It’s bleeding a lot, James. I don’t want to open it.” 
“Alright, you’re okay. Let’s get up.” James uses his grasp on your shoulder to pull you to his chest, holding your elbow with his other hand as he stands the both of you up. The change in altitude makes you immediately woozy, and a quick sigh escapes you as he scrambles to get a better grip, one arm banding around your waist. “Do you need me to carry you?” 
“No, sorry. I think I just…sorry.” 
You expect him to tease you, but maybe you should have thought better of him. “What’re you sorry for? You’re alright, lovely, just let me know if you change your mind. Or just collapse on me, and I’ll get the point.” 
He starts walking you towards the nurse’s office, your unsturdy legs following behind you. James’ body is warm and solid. You can feel the flex of his bicep pressed tight to your back, and the material of his shirt is softly worn. You don’t realize you’ve dropped your cheek onto it until you register the chatter you’re leaving behind and pick your head up. 
“The kids,” you murmur, making to turn around. James keeps you held to him, but stops. 
“Hey, guys,” he calls back to them, “my cabin’s in arts and crafts with Charlie, do you wanna go down there and tell her I sent you?” 
There’s a few excited calls of agreement, and James waits until your campers start heading in that direction before you both continue. 
“You cut yourself with your knife?” he asks, peering over your head to see where you’ve tucked your injured hand tight to your chest. It’s still dripping blood as you walk, though you think slower than before. “Is it deep?” 
“A little.” You sigh. The sun feels hotter than it did a few minutes ago, and yet James’ touch has the beginnings of a shiver curled up at the base of your spine. “I think I probably scarred my kids for life.” 
You can feel James’ chuckle reverberate through his chest. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine. Kids are hardy, especially these ones. One of my boys put hot sauce in another’s coke yesterday and the kid barely even flinched. Drank the whole thing.” 
You feel your lips tugging upwards. “Well, my girls are better than your boys.” 
He huffs a laugh. “I could so prove you wrong, but I don’t make a habit of arguing with the wounded.” 
James gets you to the nurse’s office in one piece. You expect him to go then, but he insists on staying to make sure you’re okay. He keeps you tucked into his side, scrubbing his hand up and down your arm intermittently and kissing your hair when the nurse has to clean your cut. He lets you leave your cheek resting on his chest, and you still feel dizzy for a myriad of reasons, but your injury is no longer one of them.
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angelbarelywrites · 3 months
Text
♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim..
♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2006), Black Christmas, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; very suggestive content
♡ note; i wasn’t sure how to word the title/concept of this one?? but essentially you’re almost a victim, but you’re a little to okay with it/something they do and it throws them off?? idk just read ‘em
also only 3 little meow meows in this one, i wrote most of this on break at work uwu
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Micheal Myers
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> he’s been stalking you for months
> in his mind you’re the perfect victim
> clueless to his presence, adorable and vulnerable
> he’s drawing it out as long as he can
> but he’s practically twitching the night you come out onto your porch in your tight pajama shorts, relaxing with some tea
> he’s got you pinned to the wall before you can even scream
> he wants to savor this, so he keeps his knife tucked away and has a massive hand around your throat
> he doesn’t miss your breath catching
> and he takes a moment to watch your chest heaving, your cheeks all flushed
> but he’s not that easily impressed. could be the lighting. maybe you’re quick to panic.
> “…you’ve been watching me.”
> you knew?
> you knew, and you still played his game
> interesting. very interesting.
Thomas Hewitt
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> Tommy boy is already giving you special treatment
> something is different about you
> he’s not sure what, you’re pretty, but he kills plenty of pretty people
> maybe something about the way you look up at him through your lashes?
> and you’re terrified now, but you weren’t scared of the initial sight of him..
> he doesn’t put you on a meat hook, instead rigging you somewhat kindly, your hands chained above your head but your bound feet on the ground
> whatever he decides on, he knows that you’re special. you deserve to be honored.
> he takes extra care in examining you, feeling you shiver as he grazes your exposed stomach - a side affect of your position, but a welcome sight
> he roughly grabs your face and pushes it left and right, pausing to rub your cheek with his thumb
> you would be a pretty face to wear
> he shoves two fingers into your mouth as he’s mentally measuring
> and he practically startles at the noise you make
> he’s never heard a sound like come from a victim- especially not his victims
> when he pushes a bit and you whimper around his fingers it confirms his suspicions. you’d given a choked moan at the initial intrusion
> he stares down at you, breathing heavily through his mask
> oh you were very special
Billy Lenz
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> you were renting a spare room in the sorority house
> while you were good friends with the girls, you valued your alone time
> you quickly became Billy’s favorite to watch, mostly because you were always home
> when he calls he always tries to time it so you pick up
> but usually the girls downstairs still answer- you’re never expecting calls so why bother?
> this evening however, he’s lucky- there’s an on campus event and you’re home completely alone
> you answer on the second ring and he’s delighted, immediately babbling profanities and filthy threats
> “gonna fuck that pretty piggy c—“
> to his surprise you giggle at him
> not a nervous sound, but genuine giggling
> before he can snap, or really even process you laughing at him, you stop him
> “yknow if you want phone sex, you can just ask nicely mister”
> he hangs up in a panic
> that was certainly the last thing he expected
> but now he’s beyond fixated on you
> he barely sleeps just to peep through your wall
> and it’s just about time he paid you a real visit
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tightjeansjavi · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?
Joel Miller x f!reader
NSFW🔞
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A/N: this is a result of my post gym ✨horny✨ thoughts. I love to think that Joel can be a whimpering mess, every now and then. You’re welcome ♡ ♡ ♡
Summary: You get jealous seeing the women in Jackson throw themselves at Joel. You decide to give him a gentle reminder of who he belongs to.
~word count : 4.3k~
Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub! joel, feral/dark! joel, soft! joel,needy! joel, possessive joel! is going to tear you apart! joel, dom/brat reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) oral receiving (male) fingering, light choking, knife play, teasing, edging, light bdsm, consent, consent, consent, nicknames, praise kink, cockwarming, cream pie, cum eating, cum play, uhhh yeah a whole lot of filth! Not much else to say! (+18) MINORS DNI SERIOUSLY THIS IS STRAIGHT UP PORN.
Songs used:
“Freak” by Doja Cat (just trust me on this one y’all)
“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge
“…Ready For It?” By Taylor Swift
“No Good” by KALEO
“Dinner and Diatribes” by Hozier
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You never considered yourself to be a naturally jealous person. You had no reason to be. The people of Jackson knew well enough that you were Joel’s lady, and he was your man. You never had to worry about getting hit on at the Jackson bar, or while on patrol, because no one dared to even look at what belonged to Joel. The women of Jackson? They were a little more ballsy than you thought.
You knew your man was handsome. Hell, he was fucking beautiful in your eyes. You’d see some of the single women, and even some of the happily taken women, fawn over your man.
Could you really blame them? He was definitely a sight for sore eyes. You’d watch them touch his arm, laugh at something he’d say and that’s when your jealousy began to bubble deep in your gut.
Didn’t these women know Joel belonged to you? Did he remember who he belonged to? Perhaps you needed to give him a gentle reminder.
Your man had arrived home late one night after being on patrol. You could hear his heavy boots from where you stood in the kitchen, you heard him mutter under his breath about his bad back as he hung his rifle up alongside yours. Joel was currently looking forward to a well deserved, hot shower and a good cuddle with you, his lady. He knew however that something was off because you never would leave the lights off. You kept them on usually on the nights you knew he would be getting home late.
He called out your name.
“Baby? You down here? Where are you, my sweet girl?”
He heard your soft footsteps padding from the kitchen and then your face appeared soon after. He wasted no time to grab you by the waist and pull you flush against his chest. “Hi honey, I was just waiting up for you.” You softly spoke while draping your arms around his neck. “How was it out there?”
“Mmm. Hi Sugar. Why were all the lights off? You usually keep ‘em on for me. S’alright out there. Long fuckin’ shift, and all I could think about was comin’ home to you darlin’.”
You gave him a sweet kiss, gently playing with the ends of his hair through your fingers. “Yeah, baby? I’m sorry it was a long shift. Are you tired? Here, how about you sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day.”
Joel kissed you back immediately while he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you in as close as he physically could. “S’alright. Feet and back are fuckin’ killin’ me though, sweet girl. Is Ellie home?”
You slowly pulled away from the kiss, sliding your arms down from around his neck and brought your hands down his chest. “C’mon i’ll take care of you, okay? She’s at Dina’s. They’re watching a movie so we’ll have the place to ourselves all night.”
“You had me at we’re gonna have the place to ourselves all night darlin.’” a chuckle vibrated up his chest. “Did ya have somethin’ particular in mind baby?”
You unwrapped his arms from around your waist, grabbing his hands as you brought him into the dining room. “I knew you’d love the sound of that Joel. Go on, take a seat honey.”
He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he tried to gauge just exactly what it was that you were up to. When he took too long for your liking, you placed your hand on his chest and firmly coaxed him down into the chair.
“What’re—”
He was cut off when you had climbed into his lap, straddling his hips while you brought his arms behind the chair, holding his wrists together firmly.
“Shhh. You trust me, right baby? I just wanna take care of you. Treat you real well but first, I think you need a gentle reminder of who you belong to.”
Joel’s eyes had immediately widened when you ever so casually climbed into his lap. His own frustration began to bubble when you brought his arms around the back of the chair, preventing him from touching you. “Course I trust you honey. Whad’ya mean you need to remind me who I belong to? Baby, I belong to you. You and I both know that.”
“Do the Jackson women know that you belong to me? I see the way they fawn over you Joel. You think I don’t notice? They practically fall to their knees when you’re around.”
Joel chuckled, leaning his head back against the chair with a smirk on his lips. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy in ya? I see the way they act around me sugar. I don’t pay ‘em any attention. Don’t need to when I’ve got you. By far the prettiest girl in town. Can confidently say I am one fuckin’ lucky man.”
Joel was too focused on you in his lap to notice that you had pulled a strand of thick rope from your pocket. He barely felt you tie his wrists together behind the chair, till it was too late.
“Yeah, you are one fuckin’ lucky man, Miller and you better remember it.”
He let out a strained noise from his throat when he realized you had successfully tied him to the chair and his eyes narrowed in on you. “Fuckin’ minx. You really just go and tie me to the damn chair?” He let out a low growl.
You were the one smirking now as you leaned in close to his face, your lips nearly touching his. “I did baby, I told you I’m going to take care of you. Just trust me on this okay?” You spoke in a sickly sweet tone.
Your words traveled down his neck, past his thighs and settled beneath his jeans where his cock had twitched slightly. It didn’t take much to get your man going and you were pretty proud of that.
“So you tied me to the damn chair? You gonna punish me, sweet girl? You got it in you to do that to me baby?”
You brought your fingers around his throat, tipping his chin back slightly as you brushed your lips over his, taking his lower lip between your teeth, biting down on the soft flesh as you tugged it out. Your actions elicited a low groan from his chest.
“Oh, I think you and I both know I’ve got it in me baby. You gonna be a good boy for me, or are you gonna be difficult?”
You quite literally stole the air from this man’s lungs. All the blood was draining straight down to his cock. God, you were so filthy and he loved every second of it. “I’ll be a good boy for you darlin’, only if you promise to give me your worst.”
His pupils darkened as he looked up at you, desperately wishing he could fucking touch you as he pulled against his restraints on his wrists.
“I promise you I will, baby.” You cooed and his eyes nearly rolled back into his skull.
You dragged your fingertips along the thin skin of his throat as you leaned down over him, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear, kissing the skin right below. It was the spot that you knew drove him crazy. “You let me know if it’s too much and you wanna stop. Okay honey?”
He felt a shiver run down his spine from your lips along his neck. “I know darlin’. I got you, you got me.”
Your relationship with Joel had been built around trust, and consent. It was important to you both, and no matter what the situation was between you, consent was always at the forefront.
“Good boy.” You whispered against the shell of his ear as you reached into your pocket and pulled out a blindfold.
His jaw went slack as you tied the fabric around his head, covering his eyes from your view.
“You’re about to fuckin’ ruin me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped out, feeling his senses on overdrive now that he could no longer see you.
“Gonna do a lot more than just that, honey. You just sit back and relax. I got you.” You pressed another kiss to the spot below his ear before you slowly dragged your lips down his neck, nipping and biting at the thin skin as he hissed under his breath, turning his head to the side slightly so you would have better access.
You dragged your sinful tongue down the expanse of his throat, you could feel his pulse quicken as your fingers began to expertly undo the buttons on his flannel, exposing his skin to the warm air as you let your fingertips trace down his collarbones, brushing over his nipples as they descended down over his navel.
His stomach went taut under your soft, feather light touches. He had sucked in a harsh breath as his cock twitched in his jeans once more. “Baby, please. Don’t fuckin’ keep me on edge like this honey. Please, I’ll be a good boy, just like I promised.” Your man begged you.
You popped the button off his jeans and tugged the zipper down. Offering him a brief moment of relief as you tugged his jeans down over his broad thighs, listening to the fabric fall down his ankles, and settle above his boots.
His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers lightly brushed over his growing bulge in his boxers. He was so big, so thick, the fabric was straining and could barely hold him.
What you did next? Completely through your man for a loop. You had unsecured your knife from your holster, dragging the edge of the blade down his chest, over his navel. The coolness of the metal against his hot skin was a delicious combination.
He tugged on the restraints hard, the chair scraping on the old hardwood floor when the edge of your knife dragged across his covered bulge. Your man fucking whimpered.
“Darlin’, is that your knife baby? What’re you gonna do with that, huh?”
You kept the edge of your knife lightly pressed against his bulge. You could feel his thighs quiver beneath you, and his cock twitch once more as you leaned in, and whispered against his ear, “Who do you belong to, Mr. Miller?”
He let out a string of curses past his plush lips, stuttering over his words as he was already a whimpering mess beneath you and you had barely touched him. “Yours baby. I’m all fuckin’ yours. All yours.”
“Good boy.” You hummed as you removed the blade from his covered bulge, placing it down on the table before you wasted no time to free him from his constraints. Watching his cock spring up against his stomach. The tip was leaking with precum, all thanks to you and your filthy words. Your mouth was already salivating for a taste of him.
He could no longer feel the weight of your body on his lap. He heard the chair scrape slightly as you got down on your knees in front of him. He wanted to fucking see your pretty face, your irresistible eyes on him, but the fabric on his eyes, blinded him from experiencing that pleasure.
“Gonna have a taste of you now, okay baby? Dying to have one.”
“Fu—fuckin’ hell darlin’ you tryin’ to send me to an early grave talkin’ like that—“
He lost his voice the moment your pretty lips wrapped around his aching tip. You swirled your tongue against the veiny head, collecting his precum with ease.
You dragged your lips and tongue down his thick length, feeling him twitch again as he let his whimpers flow through his lips freely.
“You taste so sweet, honey. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue baby?”
Joel growled frustratingly as he gave the restraints another good tug but they wouldn’t budge and he was completely at your mercy.
“That’s my fuckin’ line darlin’” he groaned.
“Yeah?” You hummed against his length, letting your fingers grasp his balls, giving them a little squeeze. “Well, now it’s mine. Deal with it.”
“You little—”
You had wrapped your lips back around his tip, slowly sliding your wet, hot mouth down over him, as you slowly began to bob your head at a delicious pace.
“F-f-fuck—darlin’ that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me. Not gonna fuckin’ last long like this.” He groaned while bucking his hips up slightly, desperately wanting more.
You brought your free hand, that wasn’t playing with his balls, around his thick thigh. You sank your nails into his skin, dragging them downwards as he let out a hiss, digging the heels of his boots into the floor.
You could feel every ridge, every vein against your tongue as you continued to suck him off, your teeth lightly scraped against his length as his tip hit the back of your throat. You knew how to take him well, but there were still tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. You fucking loved having his cock shoved down your throat like this. You loved the way he whimpered out your name, just from your mouth and tongue wrapped around him.
“Fuck—fuck baby you gotta stop soon, please! Fuck. I’m seein’ stars right now. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well in that pretty little mouth. S’pretty, just for me.”
Your throat tightened around him slightly as you held him there for a few moments, nearly gagging around him before you slowly lifted your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You had saliva dripping down your chin that he would have absolutely loved to see, along with your pretty swollen lips.
He heard your own jeans start to be taken off as he listened to the fabric hit the floor with a soft thud as he anticipated your next move on him.
“Where’d you go, darlin’? Can’t feel ya anymore..you better not be fuckin’ leaving me down here tied up like this—”
You had sank back down into his lap, your covered, aching cunt brushing against his swollen tip as you let out a low hiss from the friction. “Mmm. I’m right here baby. I wouldn’t be that cruel to leave you tied up like this..don’t give me any ideas though, okay? Not finished with you yet.”
He let a whine slip past his throat when he could feel your cunt rub against him, as you rolled your hips into his slowly, eliciting another frustrated groan from him, and an eager moan from you.
You reached your hand up, untying the fabric from his eyes and tossed it to the side, his eyes were immediately locked on yours, his jaw clenched so tightly, he could cut something with how sharp it was.
“You gonna fuckin’ let me touch you baby? Or not yet? Gonna keep me on the edge? Fuckin filthy little whore you are. M’so fuckin lucky.” He whimpered.
You brought your fingers through the back of his hair, gripping it tightly as you yanked his head back, rolling your hips into his once more. “Do you think you deserve to fuck me right now, baby? You think you deserve to fill me up with your cock? C’mon, answer me.” You demanded
Joel’s jaw went slack at your words as he swallowed hard. You were something fucking else entirely and he was at a loss for words.
“I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I baby? C’mon, sweet girl. Let me fill you to the fuckin’ brim. Please. Please. Please. Want to feel your warmth around me so fuckin’ bad. Give into me darlin.’ Take me however you fuckin’ want.” He rasped.
He watched as your hand slid down between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side, revealing your slick pussy to his greedy eyes as you dragged your fingers through your arousal. Swirling your fingers against your clit as you kept your eyes locked on his. “Bet you wish you were touching me right now, huh baby? I’m so fuckin’ wet for you. Don’t you wish you could have a taste? Mmm, your fingers do a much better job than mine.” You purred, wasting no time to slip two of your fingers inside, pumping them slowly on his lap. “I’m so fucking tight, Joel. Don’t you wanna feel me baby? Feel how fucking tight I am for you.”
Joel frankly had enough with your teasing. He nearly had drool dripping down his chin as he watched you with hooded eyes. He watched your fingers, slick with your own arousal, disappear inside your tight cunt. The squelching sounds of your wet pussy had his eyes rolling back as he kicked the side of the table with his boot, frustratingly.
“Goddamn you. Fuckin’ filthy. Look at you fuckin’ yourself on my lap. Fuckin’ should be my fingers filling you up right now. You little minx. Do I have to fuckin’ beg you? Your pretty little pussy is fuckin’ purring for me baby. You gotta let me out of these things, please baby. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please fuckin’ let me touch you.”
“No.” You spoke sweetly, between moans. “Keep fucking watching me Joel. Keep watching me fuck my pretty little pussy.”
“You are so goddamn lucky that you tied a fuckin’ good knot. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I get out of these baby. Just you fuckin’ wait.” He growled. He was unable to tear his gaze from your fingers fucking yourself, even if he tried. He was absolutely intoxicated with you.
You slipped your fingers out of your mouth slowly, they were dripping in your arousal as you brought them up to your lips, licking them clean right before his very eyes as he kicked the side of the table once more.
Your man was absolutely feral.
You grabbed the base of his cock then, dragging his tip against your slick folds, his arousal and yours mixing together. When you finally, sank down onto him, he let out the most delicious fucking sound you had ever heard. The mix between a groan, and a whimper as you sank down to the hilt, bringing your arms around his neck. “Filling me up so good already, baby. See what happens when you’re a good boy? You get rewarded.”
His breath hitched in his throat when you rolled your hips into his. He could feel every inch of you slide around his cock, and just as you started to get into a rhythm, rising and falling over his thick length as your walls gripped around him deliciously, the rope around his wrists snapped, falling to the floor.
His hands were on you before you even had the chance to open your mouth. You were positively fucked.
“Now, it’s my fuckin’ turn.” He had immediately grabbed ahold of your hips, roughly pulling your chest flushed against his as he fucked into you, his balls slapping against your ass while his nails dug into your hips harshly. “You fuckin’ like that baby? You naughty fuckin’ girl. Hope you enjoyed your fuckin’ little game while it lasted baby.”
His lips were attacking every inch of your skin, between your neck, collarbones and breasts, he was absolutely ruining you with his mouth. nipping, biting, sucking on your tender flesh as he fucked into you, drinking in your moans around him as you let him finally have control, not that you had much of a choice. You knew it was only a matter of time before the restraints would snap.
He had grabbed you from your ass, lifting you up onto the dining room table, while still buried deep inside of you. He brought your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you, with your back firmly planted against the table.
When you had reached down to touch yourself, he smacked your hand away, grabbing both of your wrists and slammed them down above your head, holding them down with one hand. “No.” He growled.“You don’t get to fuckin’ do all of that to me and then think that you can touch yourself, baby. You’re mine now. You fuckin’ got that? All. Fucking. Mine”
“Joel—fuck! Please baby, I was only having a little fun! Please, are you going to let me cum?” You whimpered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as you looked up at him with those eyes that would send any man’s knees buckling.
Joel let out a deep chuckle, using his free hand to close in around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he leaned down, bringing his forehead against yours, drinking in your moans as his lips crashed into yours, your teeth and tongues clashing together. It was a rough, heated kiss. One that was absolutely scrambling your brain. “You think you fuckin’ deserve to cum? You think you deserve that?” He mumbled into your lips, holding you completely captive beneath him.
Your breath was caught in your throat as his thumb squeezed along your windpipe slightly, just enough for you to feel it. The pain, mixing with the pleasure, you fucking loved it.
“Please, Joel! Please let me cum, baby! Don’t you want me to coat your cock? You gotta let me cum otherwise I can’t—”
He slammed his hips into yours, knocking your back against the table, stealing the air from your lungs. “What was that? Sorry, sugar. Can’t hear you above the sounds of my cock tearing your pretty little pussy apart.”
You let out a choked sob when his tip had hit the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your body was beginning to tremble beneath him and you nearly cried when you finally felt his thumb working your clit to the very edge.
He had released your wrists just so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and sink your nails into his skin, he knew how much you loved that.
“So fucking close, Joel! So close! Thank you baby, thank you!” You praised him.
Both of your bodies were slick with sweat as his thrusts began to grow uncoordinated and sloppy but despite this, he was still working his thumb over you, stumbling over his words as he groaned out your name.
“That’s it, my pretty fuckin’ filthy girl. Gonna cum around my cock? Gonna coat me? Wanna see you leaking out on the fuckin table when I’m through with you. Think you can handle that honey? Wanna see my fuckin’ cum drippin’ out of that pretty little pussy.”
It didn’t take long for either of you to hit your impending high. It crashed around you, sending white hot pleasure up from your core and through your whole body, Joel shuddered above you, as your pussy milked him of every last fucking drop. He kissed all over your face, praising you for being such a good girl as he gave one last deep thrust, before collapsing on top of you.
This is how it always ended. Joel buried deep inside of you while he grew soft, yours and his cum leaking out of you, while you would cradle him against your chest, running your fingers through his sweat soaked hair.
The post orgasm calm was your favorite part undeniably. You loved the lazy, sex stained grin your man would give you. God, he always looked so pretty after a proper fuck. He’d kiss you slow, deep, letting his tongue slip into your mouth while your fingers would gently scrape against his beard.
“I wanna see more of that in the future.” He mumbled into your lips, kissing you languidly.
“Yeah? You liked that?”
“Fuckin’ loved havin’ you take control like that baby. Do it whenever you want, kay?”
You let out a soft giggle, pulling away from the kiss to get some air as he let out a small whine, he wasn’t ready to stop kissing you just yet. So instead, he let his lips kiss all over your face, your cheeks, chin, nose, your eyelids. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“I will definitely be taking control more often, baby. I can promise you that.”
“Good.” He hummed, pressing one more kiss to your nose, lightly nibbling on it before he slowly slipped out from your warmth.
“We made quite the mess together honey. Dripping all down the fuckin’ table.” He chuckled, dragging his finger through your cum mixed with his, before he licked his finger clean, shooting you a wink.
You sat up slowly, your heart beat had returned to normal as you watched your man with a small grin as he collapsed back into the chair, kicking his boots off along with his jeans before he gathered the pile of clothes up into his arms to take them to the laundry room.
“I fuckin’ love you, you know that?”
“I know you do, Joel. I love you too.”
He leaned down over you, kissing you sweetly once more. He left to drop the clothes off in the laundry room before he grabbed a towel. He was always big on after care so you laid there, waiting for him.
He gently wiped between your thighs, and then the table before he was scooping you up into his arms. He helped you wrap your legs around his hips as he carried you upstairs, smiling to himself when he could feel your thighs tremble, all thanks to him.
One well deserved hot shower later, and you and your man were curled up in bed together. You were the big spoon tonight because you know how much he loves to be held by you.
You were his lady, his girl. He was your man. Your fellow, your guy.
4K notes · View notes
saylorsaysstop · 5 months
Text
Sleeping Together | 18+
also shout out to @joyful-enchantress because after she commented on my Grayson post earlier, this all came to my mind. 🤪
**underneath the cut**
DICK GRAYSON
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Dick talks you through it. He wants you to be vocal and makes it his top priority that your needs are met first
"Tell me what you need, baby." - "That's it, just like that, baby. You're close, aren't ya? Yeah, look at you. Come on, grind a little harder. I know you can do it."
Giving head is a sport for Grayson and he excels at it. He eats you out like you're his last meal
The man is an acrobat. He's flexible. All the positions he can get the two of you in should be new entries in the Kama Sutra
Dick loveeeees head in return. He won't ever make you do it or ask, but he loves that you're so eager to pleasure him
"I've been good, haven't I? No other reason to explain why you're gifting me that hot mouth of yours, sweet girl."
Dick isn't afraid to moan either. He knows when the noises start coming out of his mouth, you get off quicker
Let's go back to that acrobatic thing. He may or may not figure out ways to suspend you in the air... He may or may not be such a kinky man that he's got a separate room in your house where he plays sports with you... I'm not admitting it, I'm just saying
Loves for you to suck him off when your head hanging off the edge of the bed. He also loves to eat you out simultaneously
Dick Grayson is a boob man. Both hands on deck, he squeezes and teases your nipples by plucking them between his fingers. Loves to suck on them until they're stiff peaks. Likes to push two fingers into you while he bites your nipple, stroking until he hits that sweet spot. You're a goner after that
Loves for you to take what you want
"Atta girl, ride it just like that. This dick belongs to you, right? Act like it. Pleasure yourself... Yeah, go ahead and play with your clit. Wanna see you come. You're so pretty when you do."
Dick treasures loving on you after sex. He rewards you for your good behavior and a job well done with baths, massages, you name it. He ensures you're taken care of and reminds you that he loves you dearly
JASON TODD
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Jason likes it rough. He loves it when he sees your marks on him, whether it be teeth or nails. He collects each one like it is a kill
Ropes? Knife play? Any sort of bondage? Jason Todd is your man
Loves to bind your hands above your head while he rails you deep into the mattress. Loves the idea of you being helpless and unable to take it anymore. Gets him off real quick
Loves some dirty talk
"Take this dick like a good girl." - "You're soaking wet, babe. All this for me?" - "Not gonna waste a drop of this cum, you hear me? You won't let a drop leak outta this cunt - my cunt. You got that?"
Jason likes to get right by your ear while he grunts with each thrust, nipping your earlobe in between before trailing his tongue down your neck and sucking on your collarbone
"Gonna mark this pretty neck up, baby."
You two go at each other until you're a panting mess. Clothes strewn all over the place. Jason and you stare up at the ceiling, laughing like teenagers as you calm down from the high
"I think that was my new personal best. Ten orgasms. Ten!"
Yeah. Jason likes to place bets on who can give the other more orgasms in one night. Right now, he's winning
Jason loves your butt. Loves to slap your cheeks as he bends you over his lap as a warm-up. Carresses and bites the plump skin when he's kissing his way down your body before he hikes your legs over his shoulders and feasts
Likes to feel you breathe against him. He loves to feel your chest rise and fall when he's on top and you're panting for every breath while chasing your orgasm
He's a man who likes to edge that's for sure
"Uh-uh... That wasn't it. You can do better than that. Moan a little louder, that's it..." - "I'm being mean? No, you just need to work harder to come. You wanted this." - "Atta girl. I promise I'll let you come after this."
Jason's aftercare is you two taking a hot bath together where he can just hold your back to his chest and actually talk. You're his safe space
TIM DRAKE
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Tim, albeit quiet, is a delectable switch. One day he's all soft and endearing, the next he's plowing you into next week (and blushing when you mention it afterward
He does a lot of studying on sex. What positions feel the best for you, different ways he can go down to ensure he has you screaming his name for all of Gotham to hear
Gets a little possessive during sex, especially when he's losing himself in it
"You're mine, do you hear me? Mine, sweetheart. Mine." - "No one else is going to claim you. You belong to me."
He likes it when you pull his hair, especially when he's going down. Feeling you guide him further into you is like a bolt of electricity shooting down his spine
Tim loves to get you relaxed before sex too, especially if he knows it's going to be a long night. He'll run you a warm bath, pamper you with sweet-scented lotions, and get you nice and ready before he unleashes. Fun fact, those nights are when you know he's gonna get rough
Tim won't admit it aloud but he loves a good missionary position or where you two lay facing each other. He loves to caress your face and kiss you softly as he takes you
"Lift your leg, sweetheart... That's it. C'mere. Let me watch that gorgeous face of yours when you fall apart for me, yeah?"
Like Dick and Jason, he VALUES aftercare so. Freaking. Much! Takes a warm cloth to the mess he made between your legs and kisses along the heated skin, telling you how much he loves you
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secret-sturniolo · 3 months
Text
trouble in paradise - matt sturniolo
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-one bed/enemies to lovers trope. CONTAINS SMUT! (1.9k words)
warnings - lowkey asshole!matt, arguing, unprotected p in v (pull out method not recommended), pussy eating, fingering
a/n - will this be my writing comeback?
tillies33ssss
"Y/n, please! We're gonna have so much fun, I promise!"
I was laying in Nick's bed as he desperately tried to convince me to come on this trip. The boys go to Hawaii every year, and this year he wanted me to tag along. Of course I was skeptical. Being stuck on a tropical island for a week with my best friend didn't seem so bad, but when one of his brothers hated me? I wasn't so sure. After a few days of convincing though, I made up my mind. How bad could it be, right?
(time skip - 10pm @ the hotel)
"You're fucking kidding, right?"
While in a particularly good mood, I agreed to room with Matt. At least we would each have our own bed, we didn't even have to talk to each other. Until we scanned the card to unlock our room, revealing the single king bed against the wall.
My heart dropped. "This has to be a sick joke." I say, my eyes wide.
After calling both Nick and Chris and the front desk, it was revealed that there had been a mix up with the reservations. The cherry on top, though? The hotel was fully booked. Not a single extra room was available we could switch to, leaving reality to sink in.
I try to keep a level head, knowing Matt was on edge. I move around the room silently so as not to give him any reason to be angry. I watch as he flops onto the bed.
"Have fun sleeping on the floor." He says, expressionless.
I scoff. "You're not serious, right? There's no way you're making me sleep on the dirty hotel floor."
He relaxes his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. He was clearly ignoring me. I let out a small laugh in disbelief.
"Matt, come on. Now you're just being childish."
He opens his eyes, not moving. "Oh, I'm being childish? You're the one who throws a fit every time something doesn't go your way!" He shoots back at me.
"I didn't come to Hawaii to sleep on the floor!" I say, my frustration growing.
Matt sits up harshly, his eyes boring into mine. "You shouldn't even be here at all!" He yells, his words sharp as a knife.
My jaw drops as I take a step back, surprised by his sudden outburst.
"Why were you even invited on this trip?" he continues. "Seriously, I'd like to know. Because it sure as hell wasn't by me!"
I feel my chest tighten, tears welling in my eyes as he yells. I begin to speak, but he cuts me off.
"Oh, are you gonna cry now?" he taunts. "Grow up."
I clench my jaw, grabbing a room key and my phone as I walk toward the door.
"Let me know when you're done being an asshole." I say before slamming the door behind me.
I wander down the hotel hallways like a labyrinth before finding the elevator. I ride down the the first floor, the lobby was empty as most people were sleeping already. I sign on the wall points to an exit. I follow the path, leading me to a small outdoor spa area. Underwater lights lit up the hot tub, curls of steam rising into the cool night air. I slip off my shoes, sitting on the edge of the tub as my feet dangle into the water.
"What is wrong with me?" I whisper to myself, letting a tear slip from my eye. Was he right, should I really not have come? I think about texting Nick, but I figured he was asleep, tired from the jet-lag. I sit in silence as time slips by, letting my thoughts and doubts spiral.
I open my phone, typing a search into google. The screen displays a list of flights, my eyes scanning down the page. There was one flight tomorrow morning, showing 3 seats left. My finger lowers to tap the purchase button before my phone is swiped out of my hand.
"What?!" I jump, looking up. "Matt? What the fuck are you doing?" I say harshly.
He frowns at my screen. "You're leaving." He says, more of a statement than a question.
I reach for my phone back. "Yeah, I was trying to!" I shoot back, clearly annoyed.
Matt's eyes widen slightly at my serious tone. "You're actually serious?" He still holds my phone away from me.
I stare at him, not trying to hide the hurt on my face. "I thought that's what you wanted."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"Then why did you say it if you didn't mean it?"
He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Because I was overwhelmed and tired, and I took it out on whoever happened to be near me."
I sit quietly, not buying his excuse. I hear him sigh as he slips his own shoes off, sitting down next to me.
"Why do you hate me so much?" I blurt out.
I hear him take a deep breath as he tries to collect himself.
"I never hated you, y/n." he pauses. "It's actually kinda the opposite."
I look over at him, confused. "What?"
He kicks the water, sending ripples of small waves into the hot tub.
"You make me feel things I'm scared to feel."
I freeze, wondering if I heard him correctly. "Like what...?" I ask cautiously.
He hesitates for a moment, fidgeting with his fingers. "Like... attraction."
My heart beats faster as I nod slowly, acknowledging his words. My thoughts race, as everything I thought I knew was suddenly changing. He speaks again, nervously.
"It's stupid, I know. I'm just scared that if I let myself feel those things, I'll lose you." He looks down into the water.
I let out a small laugh, grabbing his hand softly as I intertwine our fingers. "I've stuck around this long. I don't think that would change anything."
I watch as he looks down at our hands that rest on his thigh, smiling softly with a small breath of relief.
"I don't want us to hate each other anymore, y/n." He says honestly.
I squeeze his hand. "I don't think we ever did."
A warm blush spreads to his cheeks as he meets my gaze. He leans in closer, pausing briefly to gauge my reaction. I close the gap, our lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. Our lips seem to fit together like a mold. Matt brings hi hands up to cup my cheek, my own hands resting on his shoulders as we get lost in each other. Desire surges through us before I pull away, my lips slightly parted.
Matt smiles softly, still blushing. " We should probably get out of here, right?" He stands, offering me his hand.
I nod, giggling softly as I take his hand. I let him lead me back through the hotel, up to our room on the third floor. He pulls me into the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. He smiles softly at me before pulling me back in, his lips meeting mine once again, passionate and needy.
His hands wander from my cheeks to my waist, down to my ass, and back up. I sense his desire as I pull away slightly to slide my t-shirt over my head, revealing my simple, black lace bra. His head immediately ducks down, planting wet kisses on my exposed skin. I sigh at the feeling, before urgently tugging at the hem of his own shirt, which was quickly discarded. He tugs down his sweats before walking me backwards to the bed, laying me down gently.
He makes quick work of slipping my shorts down, tossing them away. His eyes rake over my body hungrily.
"God, you're beautiful." He mumbles loud enough for me to hear, causing my cheeks to redden.
He leans over me, his fingers hooked into my underwear. "Can I take these off?" He asks gently.
I nod quickly, desperate for his touch. He pulls them down my legs teasingly slow. I lean up, simultaneously unclasping my bra, leaving me bare before him. His thumb reaches down to rub slow, tentative circles over my clit.
"Matt, please!" I beg, causing him to smirk.
He grabs my legs, sliding my body to the edge of the bed as he brings his mouth down to my core. I feel his hot breath against me as he teasingly kisses my sensitive nub. Using the tip of his tongue, he flicks back and forth, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.
He takes this as a signal to continue, thrusting his tongue into me. He groans as he finally tastes me, sending pleasant vibrations into me. I throw my head back, tangling my fingers in his hair, giving it a tug when it feels especially good.
"Oh, fuck!" I let out a gasp as he suddenly enters a finger into me, thrusting it while he continues to lick my clit.
My legs shake, squeezing against him as my orgasm bubbles in my stomach. I let out a loud moan, a string of curses leaving my mouth as I come undone. Matt continues for a few moments, letting me ride out my high before pulling away, licking his lips with a sly smile. I open my mouth to speak, but his lips are back on mine before I get the chance.
Without breaking the kiss, I feel him reach down to pull his boxers up. I hear a faint slapping sound as his erection hits his stomach. I pull away, looking between us at his dick, dripping pre-cum.
"Do you want this...?" He asks me, seriously.
"More than anything." I reply honestly.
He smiles, sitting back as me pulls my legs once again, letting them rest on his shoulders. I places his hand under my chin.
"Spit."
I give him a confused look, but I quickly oblige as his eyes pierce mine. He uses my spit as a lubricant, slowly stroking his dick as he looks into my eyes.
"Matt..." I urge him.
He nods knowingly, lining himself up with my entrance. He doesn't take his eyes off of mine as he pushes into me, giving me a chance to get used to the stretch. After a few seconds, I give him the okay to move.
His pace starts off slow and sensual, attaching his lips to my neck. Upon my request, he picks up the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm. His forehead rests against mine as he thrusts into me, our lips meeting every once in a while in a quick kiss.
The only sounds leaving our mouths are soft, breathy moans. We didn't need to use words, it was like we could reach each other like a book. Matt changes the angle slightly, causing his tip to hit me in just the right spot.
"Yes, Matt. Right there!" I feel myself getting close once again, my walls squeezing around him.
"Come for me, baby." Matt breathes against my neck.
After a couple more thrusts, my second orgasm comes crashing over me like a wave. Matt isn't far behind me, quickly pulling out and cumming on my stomach with a grunt.
He collapses on top of me, both of us sweaty and tired. After a few minutes, he props himself up on either side of me, smiling down at me in adoration.
"You're incredible." He tells me, causing me to giggle slightly.
"Yeah, we're definitely doing that again."
He kisses me, and in that moment I knew I was right. This was only the beginning.
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lanadelnegan · 10 months
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hyperfeminine reader x negan? he goes to alexandria to take their supplies and reader is just walking around looking all pretty and he CANT resist.
ily 💕💕
ily more bby. xx
Pretty in Pink
S7 Negan x Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, public sex (in front of Dwight.. like literally in the car while he's driving), Negan being overly caring and sweet with you, character death (negan kills your brother Spencer)
Note: this is dark and twisted ngl.
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I watch Negan like a deer in headlights as he whispers into my brother's ear.
"It's because.. ya got no guts." The rest of us are silent as we watch Negan slash his knife through Spencer's stomach, revealing his insides. My stomach churns as I watch him fall to the ground.
Negan chuckles as he looks around, eyeing the crowd as if he's daring us to react.
"Oh, there they are! They were inside of you the whole time." He smirks down at Spencer's lifeless body before his dark eyes roam up, meeting mine.
I quickly look down, biting my lip and fighting back tears. My nails dig into my skin as I try to remain calm.
"Well hello, princess." He slowly approaches me. "Forgive me for the gruesome scene you just had to witness." His hand rests against his chest sympathetically as he stands in front of me now, at least a foot above me.
My fingers lace together in front of me as I continue looking down, digging my dirty white shoe into the gravel.
"I don't believe we've met, sweetheart... In fact, I know we haven't because I definitely would have noticed you, looking all pretty in this little pink skirt."
I look up at him innocently through my lashes. His head cocks to the side as he subtly leans back, noticing the tear slipping from my cheek.
"Shit, darlin'. I am so sorry. That wasn't your boyfriend I just ripped open, was it?" He motions towards Spencer.
I softly shake my head no, earing a grin from him as he tilts my chin upwards to meet his stare.
"He - he was my brother." I sniffle, feeling another tear slide from my cheek.
Negan's jaw ticks and his eyes shut painfully tight as his hand slowly retreats from my chin.
"Goddamn it... If I woulda known.." He shakes his head with disappointment, noticing everyone still standing around us. "Enjoying the fucking show, people?!" He gestures for everyone to clear out before turning his attention back to me.
Sighing loudly, he delicately picks me up in his arms, holding me like a baby. I allow him to carry me as I bury my face into his shirt, soaking it with my tears.
"Ssshhh, babyyy." He whispers against the top of my head as he walks us to his van.
"Dwight! Let's go, you're driving."
"Boss? The supplies.. we don't have them loaded yet." Simon interrupts.
"I'm sorry." Negan's voice vibrates through his chest and into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Does it look like I give two fucks about supplies right now?"
He doesn't wait for Simon to answer as he opens the passenger door, joining Dwight in the van while carefully maneuvering me in his lap. My legs face towards Dwight while the side of my body leans into Negan.
"Hey, sshhh. It's okay, baby. What's your name?" He rubs my back comfortingly.
"Y/n." I whisper, sniffing my runny nose.
"Y/n, you're gonna stay with me tonight so I can make sure you're okay. I truly am sorry about your brother."
I nod my head, leaning against him. This is the first physical affection I've had from anyone since our parents died. Although it's from a man I'm supposed to hate, I can't deny how nice it feels to be touched.
My brother and I drifted apart when our family found Alexandria and made it our own. He turned into someone I didn't recognize, all power-hungry and selfish.. and although he probably deserved to die, he was still my brother. I'll always love him.
I allow myself to snuggle into Negan, my face against his neck as I inhale his scent of leather and citrusy hair gel.
"Gonna make you forget all about that asshole brother of yours, darlin'." His large, veiny hand glides up my thigh until it settles just underneath the frills of my skirt. He rubs circles on my smooth skin with his thumb, comforting me sweetly.
The drive back to the sanctuary seems to last a decade and I watch the way Dwight zones out at the road in front of him, not paying attention to us.
My hand bravely drifts on top of Negan's and I slide his hand deeper underneath my skirt, watching it disappear completely. I know how wrong this is, but I can't help my attraction to him. I've watched him from the window of my room too many times to count, wondering what his lips feel like. Doodling his name next to little hearts in my diary. This is what I've wanted, even if it's under these circumstances.
Negan's eyes widen a little as he looks at me, surprised by my forwardness.
He glances at Dwight before looking back up at me, his heavy eyelids slightly covering his hazel eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
I reach my finger up to graze over his puffy bottom lip in a "shush" motion before leaning in to kiss him. His body remains still as his lips part, letting my tongue slip past his. He groans softly and Dwight glances at us, bringing his eyebrows together.
"Eyes on the fucking road, Dwight." Negan says with our mouths still connected. I let my hands explore him, roaming them up his body and feeling his chest through his t-shirt.
His hard cock presses into my ass as I turn myself to face him, bringing one leg over until they're both hanging over each side of him and I'm straddling his lap. He grips my ass under my skirt as his head falls back slightly, waiting for my next move.
"Negan.."
"Yeah, baby?" His voice is low and raspy.
"Touch me."
His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he urges my back into the dashboard. My mouth gapes open when he pulls my panties to the side, revealing my pussy to him.
"Look at this pretty pink pussy, baby." He breathes out as his finger slides through my wet folds.
"So wet for daddy. Wish I could fucking take you right here."
I look at Dwight, who's trying his best to pretend we're not here, but the sudden sensation of Negan curling his finger inside me snaps my attention back to him.
"So do it, then." I urge him.
His eyebrows raise. "Ohh, sweetheart. So desperate for some cock." His hands find their way to my hips, tracing over them slowly as I lean back up.
"Just yours." I admit and he chuckles softly.
"Is that right, baby? You've thought about me before, huh? Touched yourself to the thought of my cock inside you."
I nod, letting my fingers run through his slicked back hair and I can't help but grind myself into him, desperate for some friction.
"Take it then. I'm not stoppin' you."
That's all the confirmation I need before reaching for his belt and unbuckling him until his pants are a few inches down his thighs.
My hand reaches in his boxers, pulling out his hardening cock. Negan watches my face as I tug on him a couple times, admiring the way he grows longer and thicker in my hand.
I don't waste any time hovering above him as he slides my panties to the side again, helping me me sink down onto him. I moan out at the fullness as my head slightly falls back.
"Thaaat's it, baby." He groans, digging his fingers into my hips while I bounce on him.
A pothole in the road causes the van to dip suddenly, and my hips collide with his completely, causing the tip of his cock to push violently against my cervix. I cry out loudly at the sharp pain, but continue riding him faster and deeper until tears fill my eyes.
His head rests against the back of the seat as he watches me ride him. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna be my wife, baby? I'll take such good care of you."
My eyes widen a little at the unexpected offer. "Uh, I - I dunno."
"That's alright, baby. I have all night to convince you. Don't think it'll take much, considering how desperate you were for my cock." He smiles up at me arrogantly.
My moans get faster and louder along with his. "You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"
I nod as his finger finds my clit with ease, rubbing it just the right way to send me over the edge. He kisses me hard right when my pussy floods his dick, causing a wet spot on his black jeans.
"FUCK. Look at that." He dips his finger in my wetness before bringing it up to my mouth, making me taste myself. I moan around his finger, sucking gently.
"You ready for my cum, baby?"
I nod, wanting to taste him so badly. As if he heard my thoughts, he lifts me off of him until I'm on my knees in the floorboard between his legs.
I watch as he strokes himself a couple times, my eyes darting back and forth between the tip of his swollen dick to his handsome face. His head falls back while his lips part, letting out a deep groan before long ropes of warm cum splatter onto my face and tongue. I close my eyes, savoring the taste of him as I suck his tip dry.
"Goddamn baby. Look at the mess you made." He reaches for my face, wiping his load off my chin with his thumb and sliding it into my mouth. I moan around him again, loving his salty unique taste before climbing up into his lap and leaning my head against his chest.
I close my eyes to the sound of his rapid heartbeat and feeling of his gentle hand stroking my hair.
How can the same hands that ended my brother's life be so... gentle with me.
Dwight shuts the engine off, exiting the van awkwardly once we arrive. Neither of us move, but I smile softly when Negan fixes the white bow in my hair, pinning it back in place and causing my heart to front flip in my chest.
"Negan..." I whisper.
"Yeah, baby?"
"... I'll be your wife."
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iwaasfairy · 10 months
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┌─ “ ! „ MAGNESIUM
tw. noncon, blood, branding/marking, some pretty egregious dirty talk and degradation, threats, mirror sex, horror elements, knife play, manipulation, murder, little bit of gore, there be a dead body in here somewhere wordcount. 6.3k
a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely lovely person whomst im so grateful for ♡ i reallyyy liked writing sakusa a lot so i hope you like it and it is what you hAd IN MINDDD!! this was such a fun commission thank yoUU a ton seriously! mwUah ♡♡♡ i hopeee you enjoy!!! kiSsES once again a million million kisses to everyone who helped read through it when i was struggling you're the bestest ilY
sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader
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It’s almost impossible to believe that everything led up to - this. You’re slumped against the car door in the back, and though you’re not knocked out, you sort of wish you were. Instead you have to feel the hard glare Kiyoomi sends you through the rear view mirror each time his eyes flick up as he reverses out of the street. There’s tension so thick that you can’t just cut it, but it’s troubling the air between you two like polluted water. Silence drags on until you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm up.
“Where are we going?” You whisper. 
The man in front smoothly turns the corner, as an almost impalpable furrow moves his brow. It takes him too long to answer for your liking, as you shuffle in the leather seat, unable to get comfortable. “I don’t like fighting with you, but you always push me.” The dry tone and answer says everything his eyes can’t. “Tonight pissed me off, you know? I’m not ever gonna let you go.”
“All this because Atsumu complimented me?” You try, and when that doesn’t get a reaction - not even a blink, your hands clamp together. “He’s like that to everyone. He was calling Hinata ‘real handsome’ all evening.” Nothing. The Kiyoomi you fell in love with was a bit sarcastic and clumsy in his words, but he wasn’t ever cruel. Wasn’t ever purposefully standoffish. What seems left of him is only the brittle, icy void. You would’ve been better off breaking up days ago.
He also would’ve given the blond the benefit of the doubt.
You can basically feel the smile shine off of your face closing the billowing curtains against the golden light, looking back at the dark-haired beauty splayed out over your bed. You clear your voice. “So what’s the deal with your teammate- that Miya guy?” Kiyoomi’s brow raises a few millimeters. “He’s serious? He’s really like that all the time?”
“The whole flirtatious act?” Your boyfriend yawns into the question, before rolling over so that his muscular shoulders, pecks, and that pretty waist are even more distracting. It’s infuriating how good he looks. But you nod, and place yourself down on the edge - where he trails a lazy hand over the back of your hand. “Oh, yeah. He has this overflowing… charisma that you can’t help but get used to, and learn to appreciate.” He chuckles when you frown. “He drives me up the wall. But he’s a good guy.”
“Hmm?” Your pout is instantly enough to have him reaching around to pull you down onto him. “You’re not worried?”
You try to blink away tears, and stare out the window instead, at every light that flashes past. More to yourself than to him, you hiccup as you brush away the wobbly lines of heat down your cheeks. “You’ve been acting so— different.” He barely glances before turning too comfortably at the next lights, speeding up enough to make your chest feel tight. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I want you to go back to how you were.” That’s the only way you can put it. It’s like there’s nothing left.
Kiyoomi’s mouth corners drop at your confession, but he doesn’t speak. You’re not sure you want him to anyway. His free hand runs through his brushed back hair, long fingers sitting still against the steering wheel when they land. And they don’t move again as you sit in the quiet cold.
“Worried?” He repeats, calm expression changing into a grin. “Please, Miya fucking wishes.” You laugh when his lips start dragging down your pulse and he softly moans against you. “You’ve got way better taste than that. In neighbors - and,” his kisses get a little more hot and needy when his large hands glide down your body to grab your ass and pull you closer, “in boyfriends- and in perfume— you smell sexy, ‘s that new?”
You giggle harder, can’t help but get flustered when he gets so touchy. “I’ll get an inflated ego if you compliment me so much.” He shrugs, and positions you better onto his broad chest. But still. “How don’t you get jealous? I’m pretty sure I would if the roles were reversed.” His dark hair is splayed out over the pillow when he drops his head back, and those pretty eyes flick over your face for a second, thinking.
“I do,” he eventually breathes, “but not because of you, and definitely not with Miya Atsumu.” When you start giggling again, he frowns. “I mean, truly- genuinely-” You snort, and he stares at you with an affronted look. “If you wanna run into the egotistical, bombastic, borderline- pathetic sunset with that guy, I might have to take a long, hard look at myself. Wonder what horrible traits you’re dating me for.” His eyes fall back to you when you take a deep breath, and he goes a little bit softer as you nuzzle up under his chin. “You wanna leave me for a shitty dye job?”
“I don’t think so,” you whisper back. He looks much too at ease in the comfort of your now shared apartment.
The silence that once felt so comfortable, now squeezes the life out of you with all it’s got. Only after a few minutes, Kiyoomi’s voice reaches out, and the shiver down your neck seems to screw the icy collar down tighter.
“Y’know, I hate how that Miya looks at you. Makes me want to carve his fucking eyes out.”
+
About a week into living in Tokyo, you decide it’s not all that bad. Hauling along the giant box of fresh veggies and two more bags of groceries, you can barely look over enough to watch the elevator open, and hasten your steps. “Hold the door, please! There’s no way I’m doing the stairs today,” you sigh, and watch as the doors ping. You slide in just in time, and a deep chuckle follows when your arms start slowly folding with the weight.
“That’s … some collection you’ve got there,” the deep voice continues, “did I miss the call on doomsday?”
You manage to turn yourself enough to see the pair of warm, obsidian eyes staring down at you - soft curly hair freshly wet from a shower. The eggplants and pumpkins in your box start rolling toward the edge, so you shift the box onto your side with a struggling smile. “No, I- I like to buy in big batches and pre-chop everything to freeze. I don’t really love cooking so… that way I save- some time while still…” You fall quiet when he keeps your gaze without any reaction, and clear your voice. Most of his face is kept behind a black surgical mask, hiding what you imagine to be the rest of a handsome face.
But no one likes being stuck in unwanted small talk, do they. He nods though, right as you arrive on your floor and the doors slide open. “That’s smart. I’ll have to try that sometime.” The box starts slipping further. The noiret’s eyes go from your face to your white-knuckled grip, and then back. “Would you like some help with that?”
“Please,” you can’t say quickly enough, afraid that one wrong move will send the entire box rolling across the floor. It’s not like you to admit defeat so easily, but currently your pride could cost you a hundred on fresh produce, and— he doesn’t seem like the type to ask if he’d mind. Your neighbor doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crinkle a little with a smile. Aside from some very brief passings in the hallway, you haven’t had the chance to meet any of your building’s occupants yet. He doesn’t bat an eye when lifting the very heavy box out of your arms, and you fluster. “Sorry for the hassle.”
“No, it’s alright. I have the afternoon off - ‘s nothing. You’re the new 3B tennant, right?” He frees one hand just to slide his mask down when you nod your face towards your door. He’s probably the prettiest guy you’ve seen to date, strong jawline, full lips and an almost perfectly straight nose; dark curls framing smart, observant eyes. So not only is he tall and charming, he’s also hot. When you mumble a soft acknowledgement, he gives you a little smile, and you can’t help but feel a bit too seen. “I’m Kiyoomi.”
You think you like Kiyoomi.
+
The heat of hands shakes you out of sleep with a slight startle, and the surprise soon makes way for a wave of rolling pleasure mixed under a heavy layer of embarrassment - at the way Kiyoomi’s toying with your body like it’s his own, and the low chuckle he lets out when you let out a pinched whimper. One of his hands is two fingers deep inside your pussy by the time you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes, feeling the warmth flood onto your face. As slick gathers between your thighs, he pushes himself up above you, and squeezes your throat between his free fingers.
“Sorry for waking you up, baby.” There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you can’t miss even with the low light, deep from within. His hand slides down the curve of your spine to settle around your hip, pressing you further into bed as your back arches when he curls his fingers without any mercy. Though you are leaving wetness all over his hand, the sudden invasion is still a little jarring, definitely when he starts sucking at your tits and bites down. “Omi, ow,” you breathe, and he only grunts as he nudges a thigh between your knees, spreading you apart. “Right now?”
“Shhh, just bear it for a bit,” he mumbles back, as his hand trails down your ribcage and forces your body to adjust to him when he hikes your leg over his shoulder. “Woke up so hard thinking of you, and- you were so cute just sleeping here next to me without a worry in the world.” His fingers are replaced quickly by the hot head of his cock, that is slid a few inches too deep right away, and your whimpering only drives him further. “Ah, fuck, there it is. Good- fucking- girl…” By the time he bottoms out there’s silvery slivers running down your face and you’re shaking your head as the ache has you moaning with pain.
But the dark haired man above you barely gives you any time to adjust, before he starts rocking himself against your center and rubbing himself deep enough to force your mouth shut. “You trust me, don’t you, angel?” He pants, stroking the inside of your thigh a few times, before starting a punishing rhythm that rocks the bed hard. The question takes you off guard, but it doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi needs an answer to keep going anyway, and you swallow down your whimper to hide your face in the pillow. He’s so big and rough and your body can’t keep up. “Oh, your pussy’s so fucking good. So tight and- warm, agh, fuck.”
Jutting out your lip into a little pout, you let out a little noise. You’re trying not to let the way he’s basically getting himself off inside you ruin your mood. After a moment, you blink up at him with wobbly vision. “Can you kiss me?” He takes a few seconds before the words register, fucking you harder each time he bottoms out— before his dark eyes go from your eyes to your lips like he’s having to debate it. And that hurts. He decides maybe against better judgment to lean in anyway, and presses his lips to yours with a low sigh, an almost moan that you suppose you have to be content with. 
He pushes your knee up to your chest as he gets closer, and the heavy pressure of his body on yours gets even more unbearable when his free hand wraps around your neck and presses until you’re gasping out. Your boyfriend’s eyes glint as they flick all over your face, and a small grin starts to travel up his lips. “Don’t you like me better like this?” You’re too distracted by the pounding in your head to answer, and whine out his name as your back arches off the bed. And Kiyoomi pants as he forces you to take each thrust. “I like you a lot. Wanna keep you.” You throw your head back, and reach around his wide shoulders to pull him even closer, trying to lock your legs around his waist with a sigh.
“Shit, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he pants into your mouth as he rocks himself into you, forehead to forehead as your nails dig into his skin. You feel bad, but you can’t help but pull him closer by his shoulders as the shower water trickles between you two and makes the entire room a steamy mix of pants and sweaty touches. “So-” he kisses messily, making you smile as his tongue swipes yours, “-damn pretty. I love your body so much.”
“And me?” You breathe back, letting your body tremble in his strong hands as he rocks himself so deep inside you that it’s making you breathless. Your little whine makes him stare, and nod.
“Of course I love you even more— don’t be silly- agh, fuck.” You move one hand to brush the wet tresses of hair out of his face and let yourself get moved up and down him, thighs wrapped ever so tight around his narrow waist. He breathes your name like the word itself is lovely, and you can’t help but moan a long whimper of his name when he hits the right spot so perfectly. “You feel so good, taking my cock right in there- that tight, little pussy. Drooling all over me, huh.” Another kiss as you swallow your mix of spit and rest your hand on his cheek. “You drive me crazy. I really- ugh- really love you, baby.”
Your tits brush up against his chest. “Promise?”
“Uhuh, mh-ahg. Promise. I can’t get enough of you.”
Sometimes you swear you can hear the house close in around you with heavy breaths.
+
The door to your apartment already hangs open when you notice the noise. The low thumping that is only audible when you slide the headphones off, a vaguely rhythmic noise that makes the hairs on your neck stand. You slide off the bed with a little frown, and smooth the wrinkles in your camisole as you peer into the open apartment area - which is empty. “Babe?” The door wobbles when the wind passes through, and your frown only digs deeper into your face when there’s no answer.
“Kiyoomi?”
The noise is louder when you walk towards the hall, and fist your hands into the bottom of the flimsy dress to pull it down. Only after a few moments of thought, your instinct drives you across the hall to pull open the door of the neighbors’, a young guy who moved in after you two did. Sure enough, your stomach drops as the scene splays out before you. There’s red all over the floor, Kiyoomi’s hands, and most horrifying - all over Ryouta’s nose and mouth as the barrage of fists lands over and over again— and you let out a horrified gasp. The damage has already been done, the brunet lays back with swollen eyes and is no longer fighting back, and you’re basically stunned in place as his knuckles crack on his cheek again.
When you manage the next breath, you force out a call of his name between tears. “Hck- Kiyoomi- w-what are you-,” your voice sounds too tiny to be your own, but any more volume doesn’t make it out of your throat, “please stop.” The last crack that resounds before he stops is even harder than any of the ones before— and he gets up without a word, smoothing his jersey back in place. He only quiets a moment, before turning over his shoulder to look at you. You, wobbling toward him like a baby deer.
Honestly, you don’t want to worry about him. But you can’t help but take his hands in yours to inspect the split knuckles, bloody and bruised— as if this is some bizarre dream. Kiyoomi’s precious about his hands. They’re his dreams, his passions, and his opportunities all in one, something to be cared for, rested gently like they mattered more than anything else. And now they’re bloodied like animals at the slaughter. When you look up at him- there’s no regret, no worry or care or concern. Just a blank sort of faux-understanding of your worry when he reaches out to brush your cheek.
You pull back away to look instead at the young man on the floor, because if you think about it too hard, you might start sobbing. Your hands drop by your thighs and feel so heavy, tears drying on your face. “Why did you-”
“Got back from my run and he said he needed your help.” There’s a cold, detached resolution in his voice. “And I told him to forget it, and then he asked me what ‘the fuck’ my problem was.” You find yourself shrinking into yourself when his dark eyes shift to you, with that unreadable look in his eye once more. His hands are slid into his pant pockets with a soft sigh, but he still raises an eyebrow your way. “Why would another guy need my girl?” Ryouta’s been nothing but nice to you since he moved in. You believed, maybe mistakenly, that that niceness had extended to your boyfriend.
But staring at the poor, battered face of the guy on the floor— something tells you that even if it did, Kiyoomi no longer cares. It feels like really, he’ll take any excuse to lash out. Your eyes flick over his face again, before swallowing. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.” For the first time since you’ve noticed this new side to him, you’re truly scared when he eyes you down. You’ve been upset, and worried, and angry before - but this is new. As the only sound between you two is the shallow rise and fall of your chest, you try to walk up and wrap your arms around his bicep. “I love you, Kiyoomi. I have only ever… loved you.”
He frees a hand to run it over your hair, before leaning down to rest his nose at your crown. “I know you do. You’re a smart little thing, that’s why I like you.” His training jacket still smells like mint and eucalyptus wash sheets, and it does absolutely nothing to soothe the aching pressure that makes its way between your ears and squeezes. And the soft kiss to your forehead doesn’t, either. “Get back inside. I’ll be right there in a bit.”
+
Your apartment is barely a shell of itself now. You realize it -truly realize it- when you toss and turn in your bed and can’t help but get stuck on little things that shouldn’t matter, but they do. The sheets are different, silkier somehow. Kiyoomi got new toothbrushes instead of the old ones with dolphins, and your entire apartment smells just different enough to make it pressing. Slightly bleachy, and too hospital-like. A blue haze is cast through the window by the moon when you softly slip out of bed, ignoring the way a soft puff comes from your boyfriend. He doesn’t stir as you move, though his empty hand seems to reach for the heat you left. Normally you’d wonder if he misses you when you go, but instead the reach just feels possessive. 
It’s like living with a brand new boyfriend all over again.
You don’t like it as much the second time, you realize, trying to choke down the bad air you’re breathing. As you wobble around in the dark, it’s hard to find your footing. The door clicks too loud for your liking when you brush it closed behind you, and slide down onto the couch as your eyes adjust to the dark. You feel like you’re hanging off the edge of falling apart as you look around the room— and try to think. That night when he came home, when he stared off into space and wouldn’t talk to you, your first thought was of another woman. Kiyoomi had never given you any reason to doubt.
He was handsome and intelligent and you were lucky to have him, but he always made it easy to trust him. If he wanted to be with you he’d be with you.
But as more and more days passed, small things got bigger. Not letting you call friends, not letting you dress how you wanted to, glaring at anyone who so much as looked up at you on the street. He’d never been so possessive when things were good. Still, you don’t want to mourn a relationship that isn’t even over yet. You cover your sniffles into your hand, and get up from the couch to go search through his jacket for his phone, or wallet. A stray bobby pin or earring, anything to make sense of the mess inside your head. You wouldn’t be proud of this in the morning - but your brain is eating itself alive. The apartment’s so quiet at night, and the old building pants and moans in the darkness.
The small closet is hotter than the rest of the apartment, more damp too. The jackets are piled high on the dryer, and though you shove your hand down every pocket, your search turns up empty. After a few seconds of turning the last pair of pockets inside out, you sink down into a crouch— and take a deep breath. Just a few weeks ago, you’d thought that you could see yourself marrying Kiyoomi. You’d spent hours by his side, convinced that no one in the world knew you better than he did.
A soft whistling noise sounds from behind the dryer, and makes you wipe your hand under your nose. There’s an old door to a bricked up stairway here, that you never got any use out of. Kiyoomi once stored some brooms there, you think. You don’t know what possesses you to slide your hands into the narrow space between the dryer and the wall and pull, but with some force- it moves. You strain to drag it aside until you jerk, scrambling up.
A track of blood.
Smeared over your normally proper linoleum, there’s a dried off-maroon that can only be blood, crusted onto the wood as a dark patch between the dryer and the door. Your chest caves. Instead of normal breaths, shallow gasps start making your entire body go solid and cold, and your throat dries up. This can’t … it isn’t real. Can’t be. Everything inside you tries to convince you that this is just a nightmare, but even as you pinch your arm hard, nothing happens.
Blood rushes to your bruised knees as you look around, trying not to panic too hard— instead put a shaky hand on the handle. It could be rusty water. A busted pipe. As you move at a glacial pace to open the door, it creaks, and you lick your lips. You can’t cry. You want nothing more than to explode into a dam of tears and unload, but it’s like your body refuses. Every second makes your body pump with adrenaline, until the door clicks open and reveals the narrow space - and in it, something that doesn’t make sense.
Blood pools on the floor, dulled, matted and a disgusting, sticky mess that has you gasping; only to hold back a gag. But in it, sits the slumped, unmoving body of your boyfriend.
The same boyfriend you were sleeping next to just a few minutes ago.
Every hair on your body rises when you choke on the smell, and sink down to press your fingers to his pulse— even when the off white pallor of his face says everything it should. “Omi?” You whisper, and when you breathe out, your throat closes up. You want to wake up. Your first coherent thought is that you can’t breathe; the next, to run. There’s no more heat in his skin, icy to the touch, and it frightens you so much that you jerk back and slam the door to the closet, stopping abruptly between the couch and the door.
It’s when the lights flick on that you do regret that.
Kiyoomi’s voice sounds deeper when you turn. As he stares at you, he brushes his messy curls out of his face. “What are you doing?” You don’t speak. Nothing but a shallow hiccup makes it out of your mouth, but you’re still holding out your hands like they’ve been burned, and maybe that’s enough for him to slide his eyes over to the closet. For a moment it stays quiet. So quiet that you can hear the blood rush beneath your skin, pumping with adrenaline you have no room for. Kiyoomi’s dead. Your Kiyoomi’s dead, isn’t he. “Ah.”
“I- I-”
“You weren’t supposed to go snooping, angel. You’re really making things difficult.” The noiret’s quiet calmness makes way for a slight smile, before he steps out of the doorway towards you. And you flatten yourself to the wall on shaky legs, but moving any more than that feels impossible. You’ve never been so scared in your life— literally frozen solid to the wall as your panicked hiccups send tears welling up in thick, childish bubbles that refuse to tip. He gives you an up and down, before pointing at you as he walks over to the closet, and sighs. “Don’t move.”
You couldn’t, even if you had the courage to. And you very much don’t. It’s so cold— you watch as he pushes into the small room only to drag the body you’d left there out of it. The heavy scraping noise of a limp body across the floor is almost enough to have you totally break. When he dumps the body in the middle of your shared living room, you manage to let out a few noises, strangled, pathetic noises, before you wring your hands together. “W-what did you do to Kiyoomi?”
“I am Kiyoomi,” he says back with enough certainty to shake you, and then smiles a little when finally the tears spill, and you shake your head left and right through your panic.
“You’re not—” is all you can squeak before he walks up to you too close and grabs your face, leaving sticky cold blood with his touch. Your cheek is almost held lovingly, but one glance up at his eyes convinces you that it’s anything but. It’s predatory, a mean glitter of amusement that plays in the darkness, and the harder you cry, the giddier it seems to get. “Let me go, p-please,” you sniffle, “let me go. I won’t tell, I just don’t wanna be- h-here.”
“Shhh, we might as well pretend I’m him still. You look so cute whining that name like it’s your fucking job.” He takes you by the hand after pressing a brief kiss on your forehead, and then sits you down onto the couch. And your chest still feels much too rattled to think about running anywhere, but when he pushes one finger into your mouth with a slight grin, you consider it. “Don’t know any better, do you?” He groans. You want to bite and run, and hide until everything stops pounding— but run where? Your boyfriend’s cold on the floor of your apartment. You can barely stop crying for long enough to take a breath, and the man above you pushes another finger down your throat. “Such a pretty little girlfriend I’ve got- look here-” 
You do - can’t help it when the pressure starts choking you, and whatever frightened look you’re giving him, is enough to make him groan long and hard. It fucks with your brain. It’s still your boyfriend- looks, smells, tastes the same- and if you stop paying attention for a few seconds, it’s almost like everything is back to normal. It’s almost like you’re safe as long as you pretend not to notice what’s going on around just you and the invasive touches that are forced onto you. “Man, you look so fucking wrecked, baby. Say my name, won’t you?” His grin is wide and cheshire-like when he leans in and starts nudging your top down your shoulders. “Say ‘please, Kiyoomi’.”
He doesn’t move his fingers out of the way to allow you. Instead you whimper around his fingers, and try not to choke as spit gets all over your chin and his hand. “Pwea-se, Kiy-oomi.”
“Hahah, you’re so fucking nasty, getting spit all over me. Drooling like a fucking dog while you’re being forced— You like whining and moaning for me?” He takes his fingers out to wipe them on your flimsy camisole and stands to start sliding down his boxers, pushing you back towards the couch. The small grin changes to a tight grimace when you try to grab at him for comfort. “Ah ah ah, don’t think so.” There’s a fistful of hair in his hand before you can apologize, as he shoves you face down towards the couch and holds you there, cheek pressed to the rough fabric. Until your face is hung just off the side, and you’re forced to face the trail of blood that ends in a familiar face.
It’s horrible, and the harder you squeeze your eyes shut against the wave of fresh tears, the deeper the image seems to force itself into your brain. “Kiyoomi~” You whimper pathetically, and he hums in response. Everything’s too close, too loud, his touch is too real and too pressing and warm— burning you from the inside out as he yanks your clothing the last bit down until it hangs around your waist and he drags his fingers up and down your slit through your panties a few times. It leaves the wet fabric awfully sticky against your pussy, and your cheeks get hotter. It’s not your fault, his fingers work you in ways that always work. That thought has your eyes flicking open, but the horrific sight has yet to disappear. “Mh-hck,” you start up again, and try to roll aside as he grabs your thigh hard to hold you in place. “I wanna stop. I wanna stop.”
“Aw, poor baby. Poor angel.” The dismissive tone is cooed as a loving mockery when he pushes you down between your shoulder blades and yanks your panties the rest of the way down. “You don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?” He then yanks your head up so you’re forced to stare at your reflection in the window, unable to see anything else. You can’t close your eyes to hide from it. Kiyoomi’s grabbing you tight enough to have you unable to move. “I’ll give you a hint. You lay here and you take it. You just listen nice and sweet, ugh-” He groans low when pushing the hot head of his cock against your entrance, patting it with a patient sigh— only to push in with a force that makes you jerk.
Why does it hurt so much? You wanna cry harder when he forces all the heavy girth of his cock inside you and the wetness dripping between your legs squelches loud, but your throat’s too clogged to. Instead only a pinched moan comes out, and he grunts when bottoming out deep inside you. “Girls who don’t listen make me wanna cut them open and eat their insides out. Would you like that?” The pull on your hair forcing your head up is making you lightheaded. That, and the stinging, uncomfortable tightness inside your pussy, squeezing and clenching against the intrusion - still isn’t enough to drown out the horror of those words as he whispers them.
Almost instantly you shake your head left and right, and your muffled ‘no’s melt into a childish cry. “No, nonono, Omi- ‘yoomi- I, no~ pleas-hck- stop. Wanna stop.” He pulls back his hips for long enough to really let you feel the ache of your walls as they cling to his cock, but then thrusts back in and bounces you on his cock. He drops your head back to the side of the couch, and places a hand in the middle of your spine to anchor you down under his weight. 
“You don’t? I think you’re lying. You want to be treated like a sack of meat.” His hips make a loud sound when connecting with your ass. “You don’t like this?”
“Ow, oww, Omi- ‘hurts-” You’re fighting against the caving of your chest each time you exhale, and forced to take shorter breaths each time he fucks back into you. “Ah, ow.” And your pussy hurts, but the rolling of his hips and the stubborn, deep grinding is too overwhelming. You hate that you can hear the wetness of your cunt squeezing around the pumping of him inside, you hate the way he breathes above you, how you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick. It’s all too much, and still it feels so fucking good that you’re hot in the face. “Mhm~ ‘m sorry. I’m sorry.” You blink through the tears to stare just a second at the trail of blood that he made from the closet to the couch— but you can’t make yourself look any closer. Instead you aim your eyes back at your reflection, and meet other eyes.
“You haven’t wanted to play with me much since I got here. ‘S your own fault that I’m all pent up now, stupid girl.” The steady rhythm in and out of your needy pussy is too much. It feels so good— and you hate it. You clench your hands into the couch as best you can and try to hang on, until your knuckles turn white. The noiret’s voice is back to taunt you, this time as his other hand reaches around to grab the soft of your throat and squeeze, shaking you back to him. “If you want your nice, reliable Kiyoomi, look- he’s right here for you.” You can’t. You can’t. Your tears well over in ugly rivers that you shut behind your lids, and Kiyoomi makes a noise.
You can’t tell if it’s a pleased noise or not, you don’t care. He rolls his hips, and your cunny accepts too eagerly. But it still feels so fucking good. And you can’t stop yourself from feeling like the worst person in the world. Your hands shake, and your head feels faint. Kiyoomi’s dead. There’s nothing else to know. Kiyoomi’s dead and you’re about to cum getting fucked— your whimper gives you away. It’s faint, but he hears it. “Hm, you don’t like him either now huh?” Instead of squeezing your throat, his hand moves to grab your tit instead, pinching your puffy nipple until you can’t help but make a noise. You’re so gross. And your pussy’s still pulling him back in, clenching to the pulsing heat as it fucks right into the softest part of your walls. “I- agh, f- I like bullying my pretty little cock sleeve to tears. So- f-fucking cute like this.”
He ruts into you until your belly feels hot and tingly, and you grind back against him on instinct. You’re getting so close, the pinching, the precise way he hits the needy spot deep inside you - you don’t even want to. “No, no- Omi, I’m- agh, please stop.” You really don’t. “I’m- I’m gonna—” But before you can stop it, your eyes squeeze shut, and your entire body goes tense. The tight ball of heat that’s been expanding all over your body with each pump, each time his heavy balls slap against you, explodes into a million pieces. “Kiyoomi, I love you, I’m so- sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s— all my fault.”
As he fucks you through the blooming heat and the white and black spots that play on your lids, he groans your name low and possessive. Your clenching only slows way after you’ve grinded yourself back against him and drooled all over the couch, until your tired body drops back into the plush. And Kiyoomi lets out a little chuckle. “Yea, it’s all your fault, stupid girl. You lay here and stay— I’ll be right back.” You barely feel the heat leave until it comes back, shoving some of the wetness from your sensitive pussy right back inside with a grunt, and a harsh tap of his hand to your pussy. The sting is sharp, and you glare through your tears as you look up. Not that he cares. “Here. Look. Kiss it.”
The sharp blade that’s basically shoved in your face glints when you hesitate, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Come on. Or else I’ll put it to use on him instead, and you don’t want that, do you?” Your lips press against the cold metal, but your eyes stay resolutely on his face. Dark curls framing dark eyes and long lashes — you often told him he was the most beautiful man you knew. You wonder if he remembered it in the end. You suppose it doesn’t matter though, watching his mirror click his tongue.
“Good girl, such a good baby girl under all the crying and mess, aren’t you? Almost make me think you like me better like this after all.” You can’t answer, but the tears that wobble sadly along your waterline spill over in the silence— and your lip wobbles. And Kiyoomi only brushes a thumb along your lip, before shrugging. “No? That’s a shame. Because you are mine now. Mine. All of you.” He points the knife into the top of your leg, and leaves behind a mark that immediately wells up with dotted red. The immediate pain and sting of hot blood sears through your skin. “Tell me again what name you want me to write? Say it nice and sweet, angel.”
Your voice doesn’t shake as much as you think it should. “Kiyoomi.”
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