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shadesslut · 8 months

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rough

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, mention of blood)

Summary: After New York, Ethan still hungered to kill, but what happens if he gets caught by Y/N? What happens if she likes it?

(a/n: this is lowkey bad D:)

✮

The sound of flesh splitting open that emitted from Ethan stabbing was one of his favorite noises. Sometimes his chest would tighten from the way it made him feel. The way the blade sliced easily against skin like butter, the way skin would swell at the faintest cut. His favorite part though, was the kill. The way the shine in their eyes disappeared made Ethan giddy; he loved it.

Moving was supposed to be his fresh start with Y/N. After becoming the only member of his family alive, he promised Y/N he’d change after New York. And he did. For three months. Three months of isolation in the tiny apartment the couple shared was hell for Ethan. The day Y/N let him wander into the city he killed.

It was four-thirty in the morning. The rattles of the windchimes that hung in their small porch combined with the creaky steps Ethan made in their kitchen filled the air. He looked out to their porch, staring at the open slide door. He shook his head as he made his way over to close it; and he wondered why Y/N left it open every night. The bedroom door was cracked open, and Ethan hoped he would be able to sneak washing the blood off his forearms without waking her. He tip-toed to their bathroom, checking over his shoulder ever so often to make sure she was asleep. He turned on the faucet halfway as he washed his arms in the dark.

He told himself he needed to calm down. He needed to be able to lay in bed still, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that with all of the tension inside of him from the kill. The cold water spilled off of his hands into the drain, catching the blood with it. Ethan looked dead ahead into the mirror. Only his eyes and highlights of his hair glimmered in the moonlight, and for a split second, his gaze gave himself chills.

“Shit,” He hissed as the harsh light flipped on. He squinted his eyes at the glare and whipped his head towards the doorway, seeing a very annoyed Y/N. She wore one of Ethan’s shirts, the neckhole too big it hung at her clavicle, and a pair of booty shorts. The sight would usually make Ethan’s dick hard, but right now he felt shriveled up in fear.

“Where were you?” She asked sternly.

Ethan blinked repeatedly in a nerve wrecking manner. “What do you mean?” He asked lowly. She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“You were gone for almost three hours. Where the hell were you?” She asked once more.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” Ethan mumbled in response. He knew she wasn’t budging. She squinted her eyes at him suspiciously and walked towards him, stopping once she saw the blood streaks in the sink. Her gaze flicked down to his shoes, coated in spots of blood. Her eyes widened in shock, along with Ethan, and the next thing she did shocked Ethan more.

She immediately raised her hand to his neck, forcing him to bend over into a heated kiss. Ethan moaned in surprise, but didn’t protest. Instead, he sighed heavily and snaked his hands to her waist, tightly gripping flesh. Their lips moved sloppily against each other in sync, the noises of their heavy breaths flowing to each others’ ears. He roughly pulled her against his body, and through lidded eyes Ethan saw her immediately look down. Her upper pelvis rubbed against his clothed erection, and Ethan threw his head back in pleasure.

“This is what you do to me, baby,” He said as he watched her start to quickly undo his jeans. “You fucking ruin me.”

She let out a dry laugh as she tugged his jeans and boxers down, letting his hard cock spring up. He hissed at the cold air, and his grip on her tightened as he left marks. She started to bend down before Ethan jerked her body up by her underarm. In one swift move, he picked her up by her thighs and set her on the bathroom counter. “As much as I love your lips, I need to be inside of you right now.” He whined, nudging his nose into her neck as he peppered kisses.

“So needy for me, huh?” She cooed softly, her fingers raking his curls. He whimpered and nodded as he began to thrust into the air. “I missed this version of you. The rough, violent, you.”

This made his head jerk up, his eyes full of admiration.

“I’ve been trying to change you,” She whispered. He continued to stare at her, and he started to tug her shorts off . “I just need you to be rough again, please.” She begged.

Ethan softly kissed her forehead. “You want me to be rough?” He asked, making sure. She nodded her head frantically, begging him. He nodded once. Then he quickly ripped her panties off, making her gasp as she stared at the torn material. He lined himself up to her entrance, and without hesitation, slammed his cock inside of her.

A deep, guttural yell came out of her at the stretch. It burned and stung, but oh did it fill her up oh so good. Ethan, having the time of his life, continued to ram himself in and out of her.

“Fuck honey,” he cooed down at her. “So wet for me, all for me.”

She whimpered at his words, hair bouncing as Ethan jerked both of their bodies against each other. The arch of Ethan’s dick slid beautifully inside of her. She inhaled heavily as she shut her eyes, taking all the pleasure in. She needed this, she needed him. Ethan grunted as his hips slapped against her. He talked her through his climax, and he screwed his eyes shut as he came. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop because he knew she hadn’t finished yet.

A hiss escaped his lips as he continued to thrust. Y/N looked up at him with big doe eyes, smiling as if she knew she had him wrapped around her pretty little finger. His thumb found her clit, immediately circling the sensitive bead. She gasped his name, and she involuntarily started grinding her hips against him. Ethan chuckled.

“Always so needy for me, so needy for my cock that you become so limp in my hands.” Ethan teased in her ear. He was still hard even after finishing; Y/N always praised him for his stamina. She felt overstimulated, like her entire body felt goopy at his touch. Her tits bounced at Ethan’s rough movements, and Ethan whined as he watched the fabric of his shirt she wore move. She clenched around him as she approached her climax, and Ethan used his free hand to grip her jaw, forcing her into a heated kiss.

“Ethan,” she whined. Her core tightened, and her mind went into a daze.

“I would kill for you.” He said. “I would kill to feel you, I would kill for this pussy. I was made to kill for you.” He peppered kisses against her jaw after each sentence, and he felt the warmth of her cheeks radiate.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” She started, sitting up slightly as she grabbed and clawed Ethan’s back. Ethan nodded, shutting her up with another kiss. He quickened his pace with his hips and thumb, smiling into her mouth as he heard her mutter curses. She gasped loudly as she finished, and he slammed into her once more.

Their breaths were loud and hot against each other’s skin. Beads of sweat slid down Ethan’s back, sending a chill down his spine. He pulled back to look at her state; disheveled and used. She blinked her eyes open, and with the smile Ethan gave her, she knew he would still kill. And he would do it for her.

(a/n: SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN AWHILE)

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #ghostface x reader #ethan kirsch #ethan landry smut #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x y/n

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merbear25 · 3 months

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Wanting to be taken care of (Choso)

After you narrowly escaped getting seriously injured, he was in need of your comfort. Being in the solace of each other’s arms, you can’t resist letting the fervor you share transforming that fear into desire.

a/n: blame @escenariosinfumables for putting this idea in my head. Love you, Cami 💜💜

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, mommy kink, vaginal penetration, breeding kink, creampie

With the scare of losing you that day still clouding his mind, his arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you tightly against him.

As he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair, he murmured, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You lightly rubbed his forearms to help soothe this woe stricken body. “Don’t talk like that,” your whisper was thick with emotion as you shifted your position to look at him.

When his gaze met yours, every word of comfort fell deaf. You couldn’t promise what tomorrow would bring, but you could at least enjoy this moment together. Your eyes lingered on his lips for a moment before he leaned in to taste them. The slight quiver of them spoke volumes—more than words ever could.

As you met his need with a confidence that could ease his worried mind, his hands roamed your body as if possessing a hunger that was being left unsatisfied. When his fingers traveled up to your breasts, you broke your kiss. With your lips ghosting his, the soft gasp that passed them fueled the desire that’d been stirring deep within the both of you.

Gently pinching your tender nipples between his fingers, your moans only encouraged him to push further. He leaned down to trail wet kisses and nips on your neck, being sure to lather each bite with his tongue. The way you arched into his touch and presented your breasts - the soft bounce they held - coaxed him into diving his flushed face between them.

Such angelic mewls graced his ears as he kissed the valley which laid between, pressing each breast gently against his cheeks while teasing your erect nipples. You held him closely when he started sucking on one of them, swirling his tongue and nibbling gently on it.

Waves of euphoria began crashing within you. The shudders of pleasure from you made his groans vibrate against your sensitive skin.

“Let mommy take care of you…” The words were so sudden yet felt so perfect for this moment of intimacy.

Alternating between your gorgeous, succulent breasts, your words of comfort earned you a low growl from him. “Please, I want mommy to let me fuck her.”

Feeling his grip tighten on your ass as he continued suckling on your tender nipples sent you into a frenzy. As you grinded your hips against his bulge, his lustful groans, which had a twinge of agony, flooded you with immense satisfaction.

“You're already so hard for me, you poor thing,” you spoke gently yet held a faint sense of pity in your voice. “Do you want to be in mommy’s pussy that badly?”

His hold on you tightened, making it almost painful as he nodded eagerly.

“Do you want to be able to cum in mommy?” Your tone shifted to dominating as you teased his aching cock with your needy cunt.

“Oh, god yes…” With him swiftly removing his pants and boxers, as well as your soaked panties, neither of you were willing to wait another moment.

He eased himself into you, savoring each spasm and gasp from you. As he bucked within you with a deliberate pace to squeeze every last moan and tremble out of your alluring form, you couldn’t help but give him the praise he deserved. “You’re such a good boy fucking me like this.”

You relished in the sight of his eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as he picked up the pace a little. “I’m going to fill you to the brim…Gonna make you feel so good, mommy.”

The urgency in his thrusts were forcing you closer to the brink of ecstasy. “Yeah, come deep inside me… Want you to fuck a baby into me,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you fully allowed yourself to get lost in the moment.

Hearing those words pass your shaky soft lips unleashed the carnal urge to give into your every desire. “Fuck yeah,” he panted. Hoisting your legs over his shoulders, he pinned you down and rendered you helpless to the brutality you were about to be subjected to.

As he plowed into you, your moans entwined with his own. “Gonna fuck you so good, I’ll knock you up,” each groan fueled with determination.

Each erotic laced cry and whimper as you trembled beneath him was pushing him that much closer to his breaking point. “Cum in me! Cum in mommy!”

With a guttural moan and one last thrust, he pumped each drop of hot lust deep inside you. Your walls were still spasming around him while he tried to catch his breath—each gasp and pant holding hints of lingering euphoria.

Looking up at him, his flushed face looked so sweet. Holding out your arms, he instantly collapsed into them. While you held him and kissed on him, he snaked his arms under you as if fearing you’d be snatched away.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m right here,” you cooed and stroked his hair softly, allowing yourselves to melt into your shared love.

#jjk #x reader #x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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yanderenightmare · 2 years

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this doesn’t need to be a full story I’d just love to see some of scummy kirishima trying to refrain himself from forcing himself on his darling but she makes it .. so hard

BNHA ! THIRST

Kirishima Eijirou x darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, noncon/dubcon, misogyny, prohero au, inappropriate thoughts in the office…

I took liberties - made darling a supervisor-type from the Hero Commission fsr

It's as though every inch of you begs him to pounce. From the free-fall of crispy-done curls that cascade down around your shoulder to the perfectly placed red-lined lips you smack once talking down to him about proper hero protocol and the subsequent punishments that follow insubordination and how you'll have his license revoked if he doesn't start playing by the Hero Public Safety Commissions rules.

You make him want to gather your expensive haircut in a tight-knit fist – smudge all that red over your pretty face when taking his cock so far down your bratty throat you choke on all the prissy words kept on your tongue for him.

Strutting in that tight black pencil skirt that cinches your small waist – making it look so perfectly receptacle for his large hands – above those firm hips and those doughy thighs he wants nothing more but to squeeze into and make jiggle as he buries himself deep between them. You make his balls itch every time you stomp away from him – with the cruelly tall peekaboo slit splitting your skirt open – teasing him with every loud step you take in those slick black stilettos - showing ankles and legs and knees and thighs, up and up but not far up enough to quench the feral hunger it edges deep down in his gut.

He'd shuffle on his knees – bite his knuckles in restraint – all to cop a feel of that ass and how you sway it with the same sass of an alley-cat. He can imagine it receiving his greedy hands so well – letting him carve in so far he might see his fingers completely swallowed in the fat. Leave his handprint in stinging welts that make you weep for kindness, bent over his lap with your wrists in his fist – only to be answered by his sharp teeth sinking deep into the supple flesh – making you scream.

You don't make it easy for him… being so tiny and snatchable. It would be the easiest thing – to take and tame you – to pull your much smaller body right off your feet and push you tight against the nearest wall – all your important documents on the floor beneath his dirty boots as you take his cock between your ribs and choke on the moan it gives you.

He can barely listen when you berate him – telling him his pay will be redacted if he doesn’t try harder at keeping the wreckage of private and government buildings to a minimum – unable to block out all the impure thoughts that go bubbling from his balls, making his throat tight as you stand there so primly in your glossy silk shirt with buttons so flimsy he bet they'd pop off on the slightest little tug. He imagines it as you continue your rant – your finger pointed at him strictly, and all he’s able to think about is how your breasts would spill out and he’d get to see whatever chic lace brazier you have on underneath.

Gnashing his teeth together, gritting them tight at how painful his boner is, kept inside the strict confines of his boxers while he imagines chewing on the pretty pearls you keep around your throat – thinking about tugging the necklace tight in a strangle, making you squeak and groan as he pounds you harder and harder from behind.

He bets only one of his big hands in your hair would have you completely humbled. Bet you'd cower in cries and do exactly whatever he'd tell you in fear of having your pretty body hurt.

He bet he'd get away with it, too – that's the worst part – that the crime he wants to commit the most is one without consequence. He'll think about it until his abdomen feels like it's about to burst – until his head's so hot and pounding it hurts, and he might very well blackout and give into all of it without further thought.

It would be as easy as pulling on a ski mask. He knows exactly how he’d do it – has your entire routine mapped out and knows exactly what empty building is still under construction in exactly what shortcut you go through to reach your apartment. Knows exactly which slab of still dusty concrete he could bend you over and push your little tear-stained face down against – watching the chub of your cheek squish against the cold stone as you moan on hot cries and plead out fruitless whimpers for his mercy.

He imagines taking his sweet time with you – getting you real nice and ready for him, playing slippery patterns between your folds where he has your feet kicked apart in a spread. He'd rest his pained and pulsating meat between the valley of your asscheeks as you shake and whine – rubbing against the soft plush skin with a rumble in his chest until you're perfectly puffy and wet for him – tight cunt suckling lewdly on three of his fat gravely fingers stuffed inside it.

He knows you don't get around much – knows you're too busy and otherwise too stingy to let any random person fuck you, so he can only imagine how sweet and sensitive you'd be for him – so needy for the attention, you'd probably start cheering him on once feeling how good he stretches your cock-starved pussy out.

He imagines your moans are real girly, too – that you'd squeal so nicely once split apart on him. And how your thighs would quake, receiving every inch of his length inside you – toes curling in your stilettos once he's completely bottomed out – nudging his fat cockhead right up against your cervix.

You’d clench on his shaft – milk him for cum – desperate for it.

And he’d give it to you – paint your walls thick with it – cream your tight little cunt so full of it you’d moan out the prettiest breathless thank you as it spills in beady pills down your thighs into your expensive power-heels – properly put in your place.

tip-jar: Kofi

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danosrosegarden · 3 months

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edward nashton angsty nsfw? hmm... him stealing your boxers and sniffing your pillow while crying a little. sad wank because he knows he can never have you and he can only have this and this. this still isn't enough. he wants to crawl in your ribcage and protect your heart from the inexorable tide of Gotham and he can't and every second he can't he's filled with anxiety and the anxiety is eating him. he wants to taste your skin, not just your discarded fabric; god you're so precious, how can he defile you like this, even just in his mind? he's not good enough for you (he thinks, to himself) and he wishes he was because you're so fucking beautiful and he wants to cage you to view for himself but he can't! because he doesn't deserve it and he could never keep something like you. because everything he keeps rots. you smell so so good and he can't help it and he's sorry. In this essay,

my ugliness is not my fault, i know god just made me wrong - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW)

{contains: "breaking in" (really just breaking of trust/misuse of keys), male masturbation, obsessive behavior and thoughts, and self-deprecation/angst.}

♡ You were naive, Edward was desperate. It was the perfect mixture to get just what he wanted. Just what he needed.

♡ Just in case, you had told him as you handed him the spare key you'd cut for your apartment. He could cry at your kind, clean innocence. You'd cut a key for him. In case you were at work and he'd realized he left his jacket laying on your couch, or something. He thought of how you'd react if you saw him now, using his key for this. Your furiously furrowed brows, your mouth fixed in a horrified grimace. Maybe that was part of the allure.

♡ Truth was, the very last thing he wanted was to cause that lukewarm current of discomfort to slosh from within you. To be the reason bolts of fear and horror shot through your boiling blood would just be too much. He was a friend to you. A very good friend. He didn't want to mar that pristine canvas.

♡ He'd much rather just be the freak rifling through your underwear drawer while you were out than confess his carnivorous appetite for you. How would that conversation go, he wondered. How could he reach into the deepest parts of his guts, the darkest parts of his brain, and yank out those inky black desires without casting you off for forever? Surely, you'd gaze upon his blood-stained longing and run for the hills.

♡ The thrill of it all had him painfully hard and already dribbling. He unbuttoned his pants and took himself out with a slow pull of his boxers, teeth clenching and a sharp breath drawn in from the feeling of the cool air lacing itself around his cock.

♡ Edward gripped your underwear with one hand and began giving himself gentle, languid tugs with the other. He imagined how it would be if the blood and guts and grime didn't scare you off completely. He imagined your sweet, tender coos of encouragement in his ear. There you go, darling. Keep going for me, angel. You're so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you, Eddie.

♡ White-hot pinpricks were already popping behind his knees as he gripped himself tighter, high hums and whines pouring from his mouth like liquid silk.

♡ Edward knew this could never be truth. You would fear him. You'd take one look at his innermost hunger and be horrified. He couldn't even fully comprehend the extent of his fiery passion.

♡ He wished he could protect you from the filth that injected itself into the heart of Gotham. Such a perfectly crafted gem didn't deserve to be scratched or chipped. You were a blindingly bright bird to him, your wingspan magnificent and your technicolor feathers brilliantly tinted. He knew to cage you was cruel, but he was consumed by crashing waves of fear that you'd be hunted. Shot down. Ripped apart. He wouldn't be able to continue on if something happened.

♡ A tight current of thickened nausea splashed around in the pit of his stomach and he felt the crackling fire of heat burn between his legs. God, he'd do anything to be the cool one. The calm one, the collected one, the one who knew exactly what to say to wrap a spellbinding cloth of charm around you and pull you in close. Instead, here he was, gripping his throbbing cock tight in his hand while laying on your bed, desperately clawing and grasping for any semblance of you. Any silk soft touch. Any juicy taste to dribble down his chin. Any symphony of sound. Anything, anything.

♡ His orgasm rippled through his body sharply, suddenly, a shot of slam-on-the-brakes adrenaline streaking through his body. He watched the soft skin of his stomach flutter up and down with each ragged breath.

♡ Sometimes Edward feels as though a hex had been placed on him since birth. The future looked bleak, the present was weary, and the past was nothing more than a mildew-scented memory. Life had never been kind. But you. A flood of glimmering sunshine. A bright, sparkling rainbow after a dark, storming day. A gasp of crisp, fresh air breathed deep and long. Lovely, compassionate, angelic you. It only made Edward look that much more rotted and moldy by comparison.

♡ With a turn of your lock and a quiet click of shutting your door, he left your apartment with a thick scoop of guilt melting around his thumping heart. He took every day with you one at a time, careful not to reveal this sinister secret or let you in on his insatiable hunger. It would remain inside of him. He would not act upon it again. It would be festering, brewing, bubbling...until the next time you were out and the starvation spoke louder than reason.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n

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mr-president · 1 year

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it’s him: jojo “bizarre” adventure

#fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #marcoh #marcoh the boxer #tanaka the salaryman #o’saa #o’saa the yellow mage #marcoh was actually really easy for me to draw just bc he aligns w my usual work #tho i did make him look like columbo…oops #also i’m tagging funger characters w their class so it’s funger specific #my art

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

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Hello 👋 I just wanted to ask if it's ok to request and if it is can I ask for an alpha Jason Todd x Omega chubby female reader smut plz. Also I really enjoyed your Mando and Logan story they were really good.

A World of Colours

Alpha!Jason Todd x omega!reader

Jason thought all the good had been drained from the world, but he has been wrong before

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (reader is on bc), Jason has a slight fear of pregnancy, pull-out method

WC: 1k

Minors DNI

When Jason came back from the dead, he thought that everything good in the world died along with him. Everything was bleak and stuck in an eternal grey, the colour drained from his life. He spent his days training, getting bigger and stronger, determined to never be caught off guard again, even by his own family.

He was distrusting, brutish, violent and a borderline feral alpha. Even his own father was terrified of him (not that he would admit it).

So it was quite the shock when, on a surprise visit to his apartment that totally wasn’t to make sure that Jason was still alive, Dick found the place spotless and with the distinctive scent of an omega soaked into every inch of the small studio.

And even more shocking was his little brother standing in the small kitchenette fucking crooning to the plump woman sitting on the counter as he cooked her breakfast. “Did I have a stroke? Am I stroking out? Does anyone smell toast?” Jason rolled his eyes at his older brother and stepped forward as if to shield you.

“Of course you smell toast Dickhead, I’m making some.” Your laugh carried through through the small space like the ringing of bells and Dick watched as Jason’s posture relaxed and his scent became sweet with absolute love.

It was then that Dick noticed both their states of undress (him being just in boxers and her in a shirt that must have been his) and the potent smell of sex. “I think I’m just gonna go.” He started backing out of the room.

“Yeah how about you do that?” You slapped Jason’s shoulder and hissed a “be nice”. Still thoroughly freaked out, Dick increased his pace.

“Just uh, just remember that B wants everyone at dinner this Friday. Bring your girl.” He slammed the front door behind him, fully convinced he was having a very strange dream.

You watched the entryway for a moment before you were distracted by a soft brush of lips against your neck. “Jay.” A moan slipped from you involuntarily as Jason’s huge hands traveled from laying on the countertop to cupping your wide hips, squeezing the already bruised skin.

“Yes princess?” He mouthed at your sensitive mating gland, applied just enough pressure to the raised skin to make your back arch forward with arousal.

“We just had sex ten minutes ago. Haven’t you had enough?” Offended, he pulled away for just a moment to look into your eyes.

“I could never have enough of you, and right now princess, I’m feeling very greedy.” You yelped when suddenly your ass was hanging off the edge of the counter after Jason tugged you forward. There was a dull thud that you knew was the sound of his boxers hitting the old kitchen tile.

The musky smell of tobacco and hot chocolate filled the air as Jason’s eyes got darker with desire and you felt his hard cock against the soft skin of your plump thighs. He was already throbbing, with beads of pre-cum bathing on the uncut head. Slick pooled between your legs in response, your omega perfectly happy at the progress of this morning so far.

Reaching between you, you grasped him tightly and guided him to your entrance. “Go on then, alpha. Sate your hunger.” His massive paws skirted down your body to settle on the small of your back. The tip of his nose brushed against yours in a loving manner.

“Yes, omega.” He answered dutifully and then slammed forward.

“Alpha!” You mewled. Pleasure shot through you with each roll of his hips. “Feel s’good.” The counter dug into your hips as he thrust into you.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” Even though your love had fucked you mere minutes before, your pussy still burned with the stretch of his cock. The thick ring of muscle of his knot pressed tingly to your already stuffed hole whenever the head of his cock bashed against your cervix.

As you wrapped yourself around him, Jason buried his face into your neck. He covered his teeth with his lips so he could bite down on the spot that would bind you to him forever without actually leaving his mark. But it resulted in the same outcome: your body jerked forward and forced his growing knot inside of you.

“Fuck princess.” He growled against your heated skin. “Gonna make me cum already like some fucking teenager.” Your nails dug into his muscular back as your orgasm grew and grew, spurred on by the way the tick patch of hair at the base of his pelvis hit your clit with every thrust.

“‘M close.” You gasped between desperate moans. Jason groaned into your ear as his muscles tightened with his own end.

“Go on, cum for me. Cum for your alpha and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Yes yes yes!” You clamped down onto him as ecstasy washed over you in a huge wave of pleasure. Your vision whited out but he continued to thrust, needing his release.

“Fuuuuuck!” Ripping himself away from you, he pulled out of your warmth just in time to spill his hot cum onto your plush belly. “Holy shit.”

The massive man slumped into your arms, all the energy suddenly leaving his body. You just chuckled and ran your fingers through his dark hair. “I thought you were gonna make me your twinkie.” You joked, laying a kiss to his head.

He chuckled into your throat, giving you a playful nip. “Couldn’t remember if you took your birth control this morning. Didn’t want to risk it.” Gently cupping his cheek, you guided him up to meet your eyes.

“Jay,” You cooed while debating on bringing up the subject but then quickly decided against it, “Will you at least finish making me breakfast? I’m absolutely starving.” He kissed your cheek.

“Stay right there princess, I’ll take care of you.”

The world used to be black and white to the feared vigilante but with you, it was a world full of colours and he wanted to share it with you.

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queenshelby · 5 months

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The Basement (Part 5)

Pairing: Dark Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Dubcon, Watersports

The following day, after several more sessions with Cillian, you were sore, exhausted and feeling utterly used. It seemed like you were at his mercy, bound by the mysterious contract you had signed.

Cillian had become more demanding, more rough in his treatment of you. He seemed insatiable, and his appetites were growing darker and wilder by the day and the sick truth to it all was that you wanted it.

The following day, when Cillian arrived in the Basement, you were unsure whether you could take anymore. You were sore, exhausted, and feeling utterly used. During the night, he had tied you to the bed and used you repeatedly, teasing your body until you begged for releases that he never granted. Each time he entered you, it felt like a branding iron, searing your insides and marking you as his own. You felt like a prisoner in your own body. You felt dirty and humiliated and what he was about to do next shook you to the core.

"I am going to untie you now, pet," Cillian murmured in your ear, as he slowly undid the knots that bind you to the bed.

The roughness of the ropes had rubbed your skin raw, and you felt a mixture of relief and fear when they fell away from your wrists and ankles.

"And when I am done untying you, I want you to kneel," he said, his tone brooking no argument.

The fear in your heart was palpable, but you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his commands. You felt a hunger deep inside of you, a need for release that only Cillian seemed able to provide. Your core clenched at the thought of pleasing him, and you knew that you would do anything he asked.

Slowly, you untangled your limbs and slid off the bed, sinking to your knees on the cold, hard floor. Your muscles protested, and you winced as your abused body strained to accommodate the position.

"Good girl. Now I want you to crawl over to the shower and wait there for me." Cillian's voice was low and commanding, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You did as you were told, feeling the coolness of the floor seeping into your skin as you slowly made your way over to the shower. Your body was still sore from earlier, but the thought of pleasing Cillian made you wet. You couldn't help it; there was something about him that made you want to submit to his every desire. As you waited, you watched the water cascading down the drain, hearing the sound of each droplet hit the metal.

Cillian followed behind you with more robe in his hands which you knew he would use to tie your wrists to the latch embedded in two of the tiles.

"Good girl," he praised you again as he watched you, obediently waiting for him on your knees. "Now I am going to clean you out, alright?" Cillian murmured into your ear. He roughly grabbed your waist and turned you around. His cock was already hard, jutting out from his boxers as he tied your wrists to the wall and, whilst you had no idea what he had planned, you had a rather concerning suspicion.

Having signed up to all kinds of sexual activities including watersports, you assumed that there was a reason behind why he had taken you to a tiled area and when asked you to bend over and present your sore pussy to him , the suspicion only grew stronger.

"What are you going to do to me?"you whimpered, eyes growing wide as you anticipated something rather unpleasant and intrusive. The thought alone filled you with fear, creating goosebumps along the curve of your waistline.

"Something to clean you out," he simply said as he stood up behind you, aligning his cock with your slick entrance, causing you to shudder involuntarily.

"Breathe," he ordered, and you obeyed before forcing himself in, causing a burning sensation to radiate throughout your entire pelvic region, surprisingly triggering a pleasurable reaction from you. He went slowly at first, teasing your entrance before fully penetrating you, all whilst ensuring that you truly felt (and maybe even somewhat enjoyed) what he was about to do.

Much to your surprise, once he was inside you, he stilled and then, almost suddenly, you felt it. A hot stream trickling into your insides and you knew he had started to fill your insides with his forceful stream.

Your octopus-grip on the slippery tiles tightened, your muscles clenched, trying to fight him off. But the combination of his thickness and the burning sensation made it nearly impossible. You stayed frozen, not daring to breathe or moved.

"Oh my god, it burns," you gasped and Cillian thrust into you further, causing you to cry out as the hot liquid poured deeper and deeper into you.

Your body trembled as a mix of emotions flooded you; shame, excitement, discomfort all dancing together in a confusing mess.

"Nice and still," Cillian groaned as he gripped your hips firmly, using them as leverage to bury himself deeper into you. You could feel his cock pulsing and jerking inside you as he painted your insides a warm, golden hue.

"Fuck , that feels so good," Cillian grunted as he emptied himself into you. You gasped and moaned, feeling the hot liquid rush through your core.

Once he was finished, Cillian slowly pulled out of you, leaving you gasping for air and feeling incredibly empty. You quickly turned around and looked down at yourself, seeing the evidence of what he did to you leaking out of you onto the floor. You felt disgusted and ashamed, but there was also a strange thrill that came with the act.

You couldn't believe what you had just let him do to you. But before you could process what had happened, Cillian was already speaking.

"Such a good girl, letting me use you like this," Cillian said, his voice thick with pleasure as he petted your hair. "You're going to let me do this every day, right?"

You tried to answer, but your throat was dry, and your mind was reeling from the intensity of the experience. All you could do was nod weakly, the thought of repeating the experience both terrifying and titillating.

"Excellent," he replied, a cruel smile crossing his lips.

"Now let's clean you up, shall we? And then I will be back later to fuck those sore little holes of yours again." Cillian smirked as he turned on the faucet to fill the bathtub adjacent to the shower with warm water and lavender bubbles.

You cast him an incredulous look and Cillian grinned as he approached you, the sound of the running water soothing.

He untied you and you glanced skeptically at him. "Come, you need to relax. Let me wash you properly," he said , gesturing towards the tub.

You hesitated for a moment, but before you knew it, Cillian scooped you up and placed you in the tub, his large hands caressing your breasts as he lowered you into the water. You yelped, surprised by the sudden movement, but you didn't resist as his hands traveled down to your sore pussy.

"Does it still hurt, little one?" he asked, a sly smile playing on his lips.

You nodded, unable to find your voice as his fingers circled your swollen clit.

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But Cillian was relentless, his thumb working in slow circles, while his other fingers explored the depths of your slick pussy.

You felt your resolve crumbling as his touch ignited a fire in the pit of your belly. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the sensation, his fingers deftly manipulating your body to a fever pitch.

"Open your eyes, little one," he murmured, his voice deep and commanding. Obediently, you opened your eyes, gazing up at him with lust-filled gaze. "Look how pretty you look, all sore and spent," he said, a hint of laughter in his eyes as he surveyed the scene.

You murmured your disagreement, your cheeks flushing beet red at his words. He quirked an eyebrow at you, his expression challenging you to argue. But you knew better than to challenge him, lest you want to suffer his wrath.

Eventually, and much to your disappointment, he then withdrew his hand from you entirely, his fingers glossed with your arousal. Cillian wiped his hand on the towel nearby, remnants of your neediness staining it.

"I will be back in an hour, now just take some time to relax, but don't fucking make yourself cum!" Cillian commanded sternly, before turning on his heels and disappearing up the wooden staircase.

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy

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yanderes-galore · 5 months

Note

Marcoh from fear and hunger romantic concept? Our big boy needs more love<3 (gn darling)

Of course! Here's some Marcoh content :) Sorry for the long wait! I hope I get his character correctly!

Yandere! Marcoh Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Violence, Clingy behavior, Blood, Murder, Death, Kissing, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Marcoh used to be a thug before jumping on the train due to being on the run.

He was raised in the streets and often got into fights, even if he didn't like it.

Despite seeming intimidating... Marcoh doesn't actually like the idea of killing.

Looking past his built stature, Marcoh is a protective and friendly sweetheart who genuinely wants to do good.

When you first meet him, he's on the train.

He comes off as reserved, timid/shy despite his unnerving gaze.

He's very cooperative with you when you speak with him.

He towers over you... yet seems so considerate.

He's more of a gentle giant than anything, but knows how to defend himself and others.

Marcoh is remorseful about his past and even expresses in some dialogues about wanting to move on.

(His Abandoned Shack Dialogue is adorable-)

You probably ask Marcoh to join your party, even offering to help Olivia find a wheelchair to take her with you.

Marcoh seems surprised for a moment but agrees.

After all, isn't there safety in numbers?

Marcoh is such a teddy bear at times.

To others he's this intimidating thug and boxer, one who could obliterate someone in seconds.

But with you? He opens up and even makes insightful dialogue on certain areas.

You can't help but smile sadly when he brings up the idea of settling down with someone or retiring....

He still has dreams... but you aren't sure if escape from this festival is possible.

With Marcoh, his dark behavior slowly grows within him.

Honestly, his biggest concern is making sure his fellow contestant(s) safe.

He may not enjoy fighting... but it's an important skill he even tries to teach you.

Marcoh's feelings slowly begin to take over as he strolls beside you.

For example, when he mentions about having a new start in life... he thinks of you.

Never wants to say it... but he can't help but glance over at you in thought.

I just like the idea of this big strong man being so timid around his love.

He hovers around you like a body guard, but while he looks scary he's just resisting the urge to hug you close.

Marcoh would want nothing more than to protect his beloved during the festival.

No matter what it takes.

This is a man who could beat the life out of someone, blood covering his hands and clothes...

But then he'd coo over you, check if you're hurt, and kiss your forehead or something.

He's mostly a sweetheart.

He isn't sadistic, just concerned and wanting to protect those he cares about.

Marcoh tries his best not to scare you.

He knows his strength comes off in such a way... but he promises he just wants to protect you.

Marcoh isn't really one to get jealous easily.

If he is, he usually keeps to himself and says nothing about it.

Of course you should have other party members... strength in numbers...

But sometimes he wishes he was the only one you needed.

He's somewhat lucid about his darker feelings, which is why he's quiet about it.

Although... the festival's whispers certainly do nothing to help his emotions.

Marcoh's behavior has stages during the festival, if we're assuming the festival influences yandere obsessions.

At first he's silent with his emotions, just acting as a body guard.

However, as you gain party members and continue to face horrors beyond your comprehension... Marcoh's sanity dwindles and his feelings turn darker.

The longer he's with you he starts to open up more... perhaps even developing softer and more romantic emotions towards you.

Okay... maybe he is jealous that he has to share you with two others...

But why do these feelings feel so... wrong?

Marcoh's dwindling sanity no doubt makes his feelings towards you corrupt due to the fesitval.

He wants to confess... but he was hoping to do that once you both survive.

How tragic.

He may be quiet, but he keeps glaring daggers at your other party members.

Eventually... Marcoh isn't going to be a sweetheart anymore.

Soon, due to the festival, you're going to be sitting in a puddle of blood... encased in Marcoh's arms.

You see... there's just so much danger in this Festival/Prehevil in general.

All this whispers just keep getting to Marcoh....

Perhaps said murderous whispers are right? You'll be in danger if he doesn't help you....

What better way to help than kill the other contestants near you before they do the same to you?

To be fair, Marcoh tries for a long time to ignore the voices.

He lasts until mid-way through Day 3 before he snaps.

By the end of it, he's covered in blood and has you tightly secured in his lap as he leans against a wall.

He whispers apologies, saying he didn't want to scare you...

You keep squirming, even after he kisses your forehead, lips, and neck...

He's trying so hard to comfort you.

You're sobbing, covered in blood like him as he tightens his grip.

"So sorry... I just needed to do this. Can't you hear the voices? They were going to take you from me... I'm protecting you like I should!"

It's such a drastic change.

When you first met, he just wanted to help everyone.

Now, as your fates come to a close and the final deadline ticks down, Marcoh killed your party... it's just you.

It will always just be you...

Right up until you Moonscorch together.

"I'll never leave you... I'm just sorry I couldn't get us out of here... but that's okay, at least we have each other...!"

#yandere fear and hunger #yandere fear and hunger 2 #yandere fear and hunger termina #yandere marcoh

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fleuraimer · 22 hours

Note

Wait wait wait can I perhaps ask for a blurb or like ur hcs on how boxer!carmy and reader get together??

ask and ye shall receive 😁

tw!! descriptions of violence + carmy's f*ckass family

boxer!carmy pt.3 even tho a series is in the works🙂‍↔️

first part. previous part.

boxer!carmy who usually holds a fair amount of nerves on every fight night. he's undefeated, sure, but that doesn't make him any less anxious. it's good for him—keeps his ego small. healthy, even (healthy in a twisted, mutilated sort of sense. where you strain your eyes staring at the ceiling until daylight and there's small crimson crescents in the palms of your hands when the sun crawls into your bedroom, head swirling with scenarios—memories—of failures, instead of just getting sleep.

like it was that fucking simple).

the only butterflies in his tummy tonight, however, are because of a certain pretty broad in pink.

boxer!carmy who, despite wanting to be disrespectful, prepares himself to tap gloves with timmy boy. he steps to the center of the ring, stops right before he bumps into the referee’s outstretched arm, just short of toe to toe with his opponent. the ref drones on and on about proper conduct and good sportsmanship, but carmy’s heard it so many times, it’s in one ear and out the other. but, even if the referee’s instructions are a distant ringing in the back of his mind, the commotion of the crowd, their cruelty—pussy! quitter! leave while you’re still breathin’, bitch! hope he knocks you so hard you di—it’s a raging roar in his mind

(too resemblant of his hysterical mother, glass of rouge in hand, spilling onto the floor in time with her flailing, we could’ve been something! too reminiscent of his hotheaded father, his heavy hand, curled around a belt.

one cannot be separated from the other, indiscernible. it’s easier to see one thing, anyway. easier to see red—).

he walks to his corner with a tremble in his hands and a quiver in his heart. plops down on his bench, and lets nacho work the knots of ingrained fear from his body, until nothing’s left but hurt. rage.

“hey, carm,” eddie utters from his crouched position in front of him, but he doesn’t register his attempt to grab his attention. he’s not here; carmy is gone, locked away somewhere safe where no one can hurt him anymore.

his chest shakes with stuttered breaths and his eyes rove over the arena with rapt anticipation, adrenaline coursing through his body; epinephrine, shot up his very veins. his knee bounces impatiently, jaw ticks (gums sore, jowls pooled with spit, hungry for a fight; thirsty for blood) in restlessness.

eddie catches the enfolded gaze of his boxer (sees somewhere, buried, murky, the small boy with no meat on his bones that came knocking on his gym door with a pain in his soul bigger—too big—than him, an ire in his body he could smell off his sweat, his tears, curled up in a corner with a beast by his side, a protector), and knows he’s ready.

“bear,” he says this time, and carmy’s eyes snap to his. eddie huffs a raspy chuckle with a soft shake of his head, smirks. “let it rip, kid.”

(real men wear pink).

boxer!carmy who’s on timothy the second the bell rings (he’s got a hunger to quell, after all, a thirst to quench). he leads with a cross to the body, and immediately follows with a corkscrew that spilts timmy’s cheek and sends him tumbling back. carmy can’t help the smile that twitches at his lips as he watches grayson trip over his feet. timmy returns with a vengeance, attacking carmy with a fakeout that bleeds into a left hook. carm’s head snaps to the right on impact, tastes the distinct tang of metallic in the bed of his maw. he spits his ichor onto the canvas, rolls his tight shoulders, and barely lets timmy get another blow in for the rest of the round.

he’s got a sore left cheek and a cut on his brow bone by the time he saunters back to his corner, but his head ain’t poundin’ and his vision is crystal clear—and he’s hungry for more, ready to sink his teeth in and lock his jowls—

benny ices any places that were hit particularly hard, and slabs a thick glob of vaseline over his brow wound before he’s sending him back into the ring with the encouragement to rip him apart.

boxer!carmy who’s only had a few knockouts in his career. he’s made people tumble, take a knee or fall back into the ropes plenty, but he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s made someone crash flat on their back, their stomach, their face, that crack of canvas against skin, blackout. knockout.

it’s halfway through round six when carmy knocks a beaten bloodied and battered timothy grayson right onto his ugly fuckin’ mug in front of 80,000 people.

he could now count on two hands the amount of times he’s knocked someone out in his career. blackout (lights out. night-night, timmy boy).

boxer!carmy who defends his title like the bear he is, and somehow makes it out on the other end with a relatively spotless face, minus a cut to his brown bone and split in the corner of his lip. he skips most of the pleasantries he’s usually so eager to debrief after the fight (it’s nice to have someone who wants to listen, who wants to know the struggle and indignation it took to get where he is), he’s got no time, doesn’t care when thoughts of a certain girl in a pink sweater dress with spaghetti straps and tiny triangle cups and gold jewelry and pink kitten heels and a sultry, killer smile framed by the plumpest, shiniest lips are running rampant in his mind.

boxer!carmy who slips through the ropes and into the crowd in search of said girl, that pretty broad in pink, who he finds making her way to him.

boxer!carmy who forgets about any and everything that isn’t her the second they stop in front of each other.

“nice belt,” she utters softly, the first to break the silence. hands clasped behind her pretty arched back and long lashes fluttering over molten, impish brown sugar eyes.

“you doin’ anything later?” carmy asks, her acknowledgement of his accomplishment flying straight over his head. she smiles coyly up at him.

shakes her head, “mm-hmm.”

he notes the way her eyes snap down when his tongue peaks out to lick over his chapped bottom lip. bites back a smirk as his head tilts curiously.

“wanna come back to my hotel with me, cub?”

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s implying.

her smile seems to widen, “sure, bear.”

boxer!carmy who leads the pretty broad in pink back inside the ring—opens and sits on the rope for her to slip through first—and into his corner. he sits on the little bench while she introduces herself to the others—Y/N, a pretty name for a pretty broad—and leans his head against the padded pole as he huffs out still shallow breaths. shuts his eyes (goes into his mind and toward the dark corner with the boy and his protector, tells them it’s all over).

he flinches softly when her feels something scratch at his forearm, a weight on his wrists. cracks his eyes back open to find his pretty broad, on her knees, before him, delicately undoing the laces of his gloves.

“we’re matching,” she says, tone dripping with molasses. she tugs at his boxing shorts, and it’s only then carmy realizes why the crowd was probably so very rowdy and cruel tonight (i mean, it’s not every day you see a boxer who calls himself the bear wearing baby pink boxing shorts and matching gloves, is it?)

“you do that on purpose?” she mumbles, trying and failing to hide her pleased smirk, and tugs his gloves off. they both stare at the pink tape around his fingers. she quirks a tonic brow at him.

“can’t say i really noticed,” he mutters back, which is… scarily accurate.

boxer!carmy who doesn’t go to the post fight after party.

“c’mon, dude! y’just whooped him!” benny groans, talking to carmy on the other end of the shower, toothpick between his teeth.

“yeah, and now he’s whipped,” nacho mumbles under his breath.

carmy only rolls his eyes and continues to shower. he doesn’t care that its technically his celebration, he’s already got his dream present that he’s fucking gagging to unwrap.

after changing in his locker room (and satiating—benny more than nacho—both benny and nacho with $150 each and a promise to join them next time) he walks hand in hand with his pretty broad out the back exit

(it’s a wonder he doesn’t knockout one of the paps on their way out. he has grace, though, and he’s not that stupid, he did just brutally beat his opponent and then steal his girl).

he opens the door to the limousine for her and lets her climb in first, literally. he watches with a set, unreadable expression as she crawls into the backseat, inviting him in with a look over her shoulder.

boxer!carmy who’s never had sex in a limo before.

boxer!carmy who’s in the mood to change that tonight.

he climbs in behind her, and slams the door shut just in time to muffle the squeal his cub lets out when he issues a bruising smack to her wiggling ass.

they’re in for a hell of a night.

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