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merakiui · 2 years

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Yandere!Jade and Floyd who have recently become obsessed with an idol from the surface.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors, obsessive fans!jade + floyd, implied manipulation/bribery, obsessive thoughts, brief dubious nsfw implications)

It was Floyd who saw an advertisement for sneakers on Magicam and he really liked the style and colors, but what caught his eye was the person endorsing said shoes. You were so cute in your sports outfit, showing the sneakers off in such a fashionably athletic way. Apparently this was some sort of collaboration? Floyd didn’t really care about the shoes or the collab at that moment; he was more interested in you as you offered a casual smile to the camera while holding a basketball in your hands.

So of course he asks Jade about it, who also has no idea. He’s never even heard of you or this brand or anything related to your management team and company. He’s just as lost as his brother, and after a quick online search they learn that you’re an idol whose group recently disbanded and you chose to go down the solo path. And from the looks of it, your career is still flourishing. Obviously you’re doing well for yourself if you’re scoring sponsorships and collaborations.

Jade assumes this is where their curiosity ends. He’s never really understood the appeal of idols. He’s aware that music is made of many varieties and genres and that it often brings people together, much like delicious food, but he has no interest in idol culture. It’s never stuck with him. He will admit that you’re definitely a nice sight, but that’s as far as his opinion goes.

Floyd, on the other hand, is absolutely hooked. He hyperfixates on you almost immediately as he immerses himself in every detail he can find about you online. He watches videos of past concerts, interviews, and music/lyric videos of your songs for as long as his attention will hold. He scrolls through all of your socials, drinking in every photo and selfie you’ve posted—occasionally reading the captions and comments to get a taste of your personality and your fanbase. The amount of gross people who call you adorable nicknames and ask you to spare them a glance… Yikes. Now that’s really hard to read.

Truthfully, he was expecting to find ridicule in your profession; he thought it would be annoying and stupid and he’d hate it and he’d never want to see those sneakers or your face again. But he doesn’t hate it. He loves it, so much so that Jade and Azul have caught him humming your songs whenever he’s lost in his own world.

And it isn’t long before Jade’s curiosity is piqued once again and he falls down the same rabbit hole Floyd did. Only Jade is more meticulous with his search. Whereas Floyd tore through every bit of content containing you, devouring it with an insatiable appetite, Jade peruses it as if he has all the time in the world, savoring images of you as if they’re fine wine. He categorizes his favorite articles and videos, linking each of them in the notes app on his phone. He essentially creates an entire profile for you, where he details all sorts of facts about you. Like Floyd he also wants to know everything about you, so he’ll spend hours late into the night researching you, digesting the information he finds and then immediately looking for more to add to your profile.

His search leads him to a very fortuitous piece of information. According to the most recent post on your socials, you’ll be going on tour. Jade reads through the dates and locations and is pleasantly surprised to find the Coral Sea as one of the tour destinations. What are the odds! Jade wakes Floyd at once, proudly showing him the post. It energizes Floyd immediately, his bad mood ebbing away into childish glee as he grabs his twin’s phone and stares so intently at the screen as if he’s trying to determine whether or not this is a dream.

Well, now they must make plans to attend this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It falls in the middle of their spring break; the timing couldn’t be better! And once tickets go on sale, Jade and Floyd are the first to snag two. It will be their first time attending a concert and it brings them back to the days where they played in their little band with Azul.

In the weeks leading up to spring break, the twins are very motivated. It’s almost unnerving how much effort they put into their work and studies, as if doing well will somehow please the idol they’ve started worshipping. And maybe it will. It’s encouraging to think about it in that way—that every high score, every successful deal at the Lounge, every fulfilling day will impress you. And when you’re the one cheering for them through the tiny screens of their phones, they feel as if they can accomplish anything.

It’s unhealthy. Maybe they’re aware of that when they find themselves stalking your socials, occasionally refreshing the site in case you’ve shared a new post. They want to be the first to see it, the first to like it, the first to save it to a very special folder that’s littered with pictures of you they gathered from a slew of various online sources. And on the days that you don’t post or do much at all on any of your platforms, they feel so weary and depressed. It’s as if their mood depends solely on whether or not you grace them with your online presence.

Aside from your life as an idol, what little information they could dig up about your private life makes you all the more appealing. You’re so sweet and modest, always remaining humble despite the fame. They learn who your friends and family are quickly. What’s great about the internet is that it’s easy to connect every looping string and dot until they’ve made note of every account that serves some sort of importance to you. Every connection is put aside for later use.

When spring break finally arrives, they’re overjoyed at the prospect of being able to return home to see you. It’s not often human artists tour in the Coral Sea, so it’s really amazing that you’re doing this. That’s what makes you so special and wonderful! Azul’s practically sick of their enthusiasm as the three of them depart through the mirror. He claimed to want no part in the concert and that he couldn’t see the appeal in spending hundreds of well-earned Madol on merchandise and other goods for the sake of ‘love and support.’ Leave it to the scammer to recognize the con. Not only are the twins dedicating so much time and devotion to you, they’re also willing to spend lots of money on anything related to you. The will of the fan is indeed strong…

The twins are more than happy to go without Azul, and after mentioning it to their father, who seems to approve of it, he pulls a few strings to allow his beloved boys a chance to meet you one-on-one. No lines. No crowds. No VIP passes needed. It’s wonderful what power, influence, and wealth can get you if you tug at the right strings.

They just can’t wait. Floyd wants to wrap himself around you and squeeze you! Not until you pass out, of course. You’re his favorite human idol. He doesn’t want to hurt you…not yet, at least. And Jade really wants to have a nice conversation with you—wants to truly bond with you and maybe even hug you himself. His heart is uncharacteristically giddy as the day draws near. Floyd’s gotten more restless, too, twisting in his sleep nonstop. It seems like they’re both too excited for the concert to even function, and when the day finally dawns all of that excitement multiplies tenfold.

With the help of a potion that allows you to breathe underwater and a few modifications to the stage, equipment, and sound, you’re able to perform a flawless concert. The twins have never understood why fans are often moved to tears when they see and listen to their idols’ performances, but now they can faintly comprehend the gist of it. It really is an emotional moment for those who have waited so long. Surprisingly, you have a lot of fans in the Coral Sea. But it makes sense, especially when you consider just how popular human trinkets are among the sea life.

You’re absolutely breathtaking on the stage as you sing from the bottom of your heart. Every song is so enchanting that they wonder whether or not you’re actually a siren in disguise. If that’s the case, consider themselves thoroughly bewitched. There’s just something about you that’s so…you. And they both realize that, as the concert reaches its finale, the admiration they feel for you goes beyond that of a fan’s love. It isn’t even love. It’s obsession, twisted and spiraling. As dark and deep as the ocean itself.

They want you. You, you, you. Every part of you. From your voice, to your body, to your amazing talents. If you were theirs, you could perform for them and only them. No one else would be permitted to lay eyes on you, lest they have them gouged out for such a grave offense.

The first thought that crosses both of their minds when they see you is that you’re so small compared to them. Floyd swims up to you, arms outstretched excitedly. You welcome the hug with a bright smile, but Jade’s more aware of the security and the way they watch with laser focus, ready to intervene should Floyd prove to be a threat. And Jade can only hope that Floyd will behave.

“You’re so cute up close! Like a tiny, colorful fishy.” Floyd pinches your cheek in a way that’s meant to be endearing. Jade catches the poorly concealed grimace and he stifles a sigh. “Oh! My name is Floyd and this is Jade.”

You gaze at Jade with what he thinks is fondness. “It’s nice to meet the both of you! I hear you’re fans of my work.”

“We are.” It’s not often he feels shy or flustered, but now that he’s actually in front of you, hearing your voice and speaking to you… It’s a lot to process. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Floyd smiles a broad, toothy grin and you admire his teeth for a second. Before he or Jade can comment, you’re wriggling out of Floyd’s tail and reaching for laminated sheets of paper.

“I wanted to write the both of you special letters because I had heard that you’re both important guests. It wouldn’t be very welcoming or polite if I couldn’t provide you with a gift. Please consider it a token of my gratitude. I can’t thank you enough for your love and support.”

You’re too precious. Jade skims through his letter and finds that it really is personalized. You took the time to hand-write every letter. Even your signature is signed in swirling ink and it’s something he wishes he could tattoo on his body, if only to have a piece of you on him at all times.

“Ooh, look at this.” Floyd whistles as he observes the document. “Hey, Jade, isn’t this really thoughtful? It’s a shame we didn’t prepare any gifts…”

“Indeed.” He shares a covert smile with his twin, something that goes unnoticed by you. Jade reminds himself of the security that loom nearby and he realizes he can’t exactly do anything with them here.

Well. He could. Both of them could. Their father could easily pay whatever price falls their way. If he wanted to, he could probably buy ownership of your company and then you’d belong to Jade and Floyd. The thought has his body temperature rising. He’s certain Floyd’s having similar thoughts because he spies his twin’s tongue as it darts out to wet his lips.

“Oh, there’s no need! Meeting the both of you is more than enough, so please don’t worry about preparing anything.” Your innocent expression is almost too much to bear. He wonders how it might look with tears streaking down your cheeks, face scrunched in pain or pleasure—or perhaps both—as you’re devoured by the both of them.

Not in a literal sense. But maybe—just maybe—if given the chance they might sample you, your blood, your soul. Your everything. A small bite, really. Who can blame them? You’re too adorably vulnerable to resist, after all.

Perhaps their father ought to ready his checkbook, for he’ll be needing it if he intends to play damage control with hush money.

#twisted chit chat #yandere jade leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere twst #‘ugh i just don’t understand the youth these days’ says azul as he watches #the twins practically glue their eyes to the screen so they can see fancams of idol darling #every time they get distracted azul is just 🗿🗿#he can’t put the win in swindle when the twins aren’t focusing on the business!! on the bag!!! >:(#maybe if he stanned (name) he’d understand

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shepard-ram · 2 years

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Fool's Gold [Yandere!Impulse X Reader]

Angst, Requested: "Please may I request some Yan!Impulse (which is a challenge bc he's lovely) I'd love to see you put in some of those poetically dark moments that really hit in there (because you're good at that /g)"

I actually got pretty excited coming up with the idea for this one. Probably because this is my first full work for Impy. Tw: Yandere, talk of death, and demon stuff- Not sure if that should be a tw but yeah this is very much a demonpulse fic (Also this is probably wildly out of character but it's yandere stuff what do you expect lol)

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You had known Impulse for, honestly a few years now. You weren't at all a new member to the group. Dispite this you wouldn't exactly say you were the closest with him. Never having had more than few big moments of collaboration speckled across the handful of seasons you coexisted.

However, now with a new world getting back into the motions, especially with everyone living in such a close bundle, you decided that this would be the season you properly called each other friends. Knowing how it usually plays out, it wouldn't take more than to settle down next to his base for things to begin stirring.

Impulse wasn't at all opposed to your decision. As always he remained a bright, friendly face. 'Yeah,' you thought, 'this is going to be nice.'

For a good while, you were completely right. Sure each and every moment in this server was nothing other than fun, but your new neighbor added a fresh level to it all that you were incredibly thankful for.

Dispite the fact that Impulse clearly donned horns, wings and a tail that gave the "Imp" part of his name legitimacy, he was only ever sweet, caring and helpful to you. So far detached from the word "demonic". Those nonhuman traits were dusted in a rich, glimmering gold color. One that was just as welcoming as his personality.

Between pulling all-nighters together to grind out builds and resources, sharing in the high action fun that pranks and storylines offered, and even just relaxing and decompressing in your shared and comfortable silence, you had established you two as a major duo of the season.

Impulse was absolutely joyous at your union. It was a dream come true, you really had no idea. You were something of an "admire from afar" case to him. Ever since you joined the server he felt something. Perhaps not love, but you made a habit of lingering in his mind a little too long for you to mean nothing to him.

As these things usually progress, he only found his admiration of you evolve into something he'd be more comfortable calling love. Your hours spent together were his greatest treasure, and he could say the same about you yourself. You were precious, valuable, and about a million other synonyms he had slowly thought up over these months.

It came to the point where he thought about just straight up confessing. Until you had a particularly rough conversation.

It honestly shouldn't have ment anything. During one of your late night "talking about everything and nothing" talks, you found yourself on the topic of next season. What you hope to accomplish, who your thinking of collaborating with, that sort of stuff. That's when you made the deceivingly offhanded comment.

"You know, I've really enjoyed sticking around with you Imp." Those little confirmations sent his heart into a small frenzy. "But I guess, I've always thought of this-" You said, gesturing between the two of you. "As just a season 8 thing. Like obviously we'll still be great friends, I just want to change it up a bit again."

He was stunned. Maybe he was too shocked to do anything else, maybe he wanted to keep the peace a little longer, but dispite the shattering of his heart that might as well have been auditory, he still gave the world's weakest "Yeah." Then added a good three seconds later, "I get it."

He was still thinking about it a week later. "Change it up a bit." You ment it so causally, but to him it felt like you implied that he was disposable. Is that really what he was worth to you? Just a fun little gimmick or accessory to switch up when the time came to it?

He knows that couldn't be it. He had gained a crush on you, no- fallen in love with you- because you were a kind and loving person. There was absolutely no way that you really wanted to toss him like a shirt gone out of style. You spent so much time together, he rationalized. You had to feel something about him like he felt about you.

You would stay together, for however long it took you to realize the depths he would be willing to go to for you. Then you had the rest of your lives together.

Wait, not even that. He remembered. As a demon he would have a much longer life span than you. Even if you came to your senses and stayed with him, he would still have to deal with you leaving eventually. Willingly or not.

Those thoughts put him in a state of despair for a good while. He needed a plan to keep you long enough for you to realize you love him, maybe even a way to circumvent your measly human life span. And he needed that plan now. Thankfully, after some reflecting, he remembered a certain few options that those with demonic blood had access to.

All it would require was your name on a peice of paper, and a handshake.

That's all it takes to sell your soul.

When he first learned he had the capability to put someone's eternal soul into debt he was disgusted at the thought of himself doing that. How cruel and vile it would be to go through with that.

However, desperate times call for desperate measures. And anyways, after the initial panic, you'll understand that this will make you happy. Eventually you'll be dumbfounded that you ever thought that forever by his side wasn't what you always wanted.

The handshake would be easy, but how would he get the signature? Similarly easy. See, there were already these things quite close to "mini" soul contracts. I.O.U's

Everything was planned perfectly. Every little detail of the situation was engineered just right so that he could reasonably request one from you. He watched with concealed glee has you scribbled your name on the peice of definitely, absolutely 100% normal- not magic at all paper. Then quickly pocketed the thing, before holding out his hand. Hoping that you'll get the message and go through with the handshake.

Once you did, the gig was up. When you agree to a contract it is quite the spectacle. Wisps of energy and the glow of eerie lights tend to materialize after the connection is sealed.

He almost felt bad seeing your confusion.

"Hey Imp, what the heck is all this" Your voice was a mix of equal parts concern and wonder.

"Remember the last time we really talked?" He felt no need to hide what he's been thinking anymore. It's not like you can get out of this. He didn't wait for you in orde to continue. "You said you were going to leave me next season, and I'll tell the truth. It hurt."

You were now officially terrified. The special effects have completely fizzled out, leaving just the weight of his words to carry their promise of misfortune.

"And I'll keep telling the truth. We're in love with each other. I know you haven't realized that yet, but I've come to terms with it." He was walking closer to you now, you knew he would never physically hurt you. But it still sent your internal alarms ringing.

"What are you talking about" you timidly spoke up, "please tell me this is a bad joke. You can't be serious." This wasn't the Impulse you were friends with, it just couldn't be.

"See, even now when I'm directly giving you the option to have the revelation, you still deny it. You still want to leave me." He spoke with the kind of fake empathy that you've only seen people use to mock others with.

"How about a change in topics? Have you ever heard the phrase, 'Till death do us part', well I always thought that it was bit cheap." He started walking around you. Not paying any mind to how you defensively never let him out of your sight. This was insane. But you still didn't want to believe that this was real.

"I mean- really? All it takes is death to keep you two apart? Is that really it?" He rambled, half to himself.

"Wha-" Your mind was trying to wrap around it all. Surely this is just a bad dream.

He cut you off, "What you just signed my angel, was what you would call, a soul contract." He watched with what you could only describe as a look of sick entertainment at how your face dropped.

"So before you try anything, let me tell you just how this is going to go. You can try to run. Tell the others, attempt to break the deal you've just made. You can even leave the server, drop off the face of the earth and live a happy, long, and fulfilled life far away from all this. But one day, you will die. Good luck running from that."

He let his hushed laugh fill the silence, there was no way you could form words right now anyways. "And when you do die, you will be mine forever." He generously gave you a few seconds to take in what he said. "Now it's your choice, angel. And while I would be a bit hurt If you do choose to run. I won't stop you."

"After all. We will be together for the rest of time."

#Shepard ram writes #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft x you #hermitcraft x y/n #hc x reader #tw. yandere #c: impulse #Impulsesv x reader #tw. death mention

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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The Carnival Collaboration

My first piece (1 of 3 lol) for The Carnival Collaboration by @demonlamb666! I couldn’t fit my idea with any fandom character so I used my lovely boy Rhys for it and definitely had a lot of fun! ♥ I always forget how fun OCs are until I write for them! He got a bit of a development here to fit his role better, so I hope you guys will still like him! Please enjoy!

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE CONTENT/LEMON, Yandere (in the later parts), Reader has a midlife crisis, PDA, Lots of touching and body contact, Wordcount: 3428

Chapter I - Distraction

Carnival—a place to fulfill all your desires!

Well, most of them at least. As you made your way through the stands left and right, you took in the sweet smell of candied nuts, churros, and cotton candy hanging in the air. The excitement of the kids screaming and running from one attraction to the next was prickling on your skin as the memories of your childhood spent at this carnival warmed your heart.

It wasn’t every day you got to go home to your parents and relive something you’ve been enjoying a lot as a child. Now an adult, you moved away, started your own life, studied, got a job. You moved on from naive pleasures, as were these events. Friends would invite you out to have fun every now and then, but it rarely was something as exciting as the carnival you still remembered from the past.

Booming voices welcomed you closer to their games, which - at your age - you knew were rigged and barely winnable. Still, you looked at the operators of the stands, smiling from ear to ear in their fun getups as they reeled in paying customers. Most of the time, it were the parents of the excited children who spent money, but you also saw couples trying their best to win prizes for each other and teenage friend groups discussing what to do next. It seemed like every kind of person was hanging out here, making you feel less awkward, alone, and seemingly out of place as you were.

Truth be told, when you heard the carnival was back in town, you laughed about it, thinking it was just a silly kid’s thing. Still, the longer the evening at your parent’s house went on, sitting on the couch and watching boring television shows together, the more you felt the urge to do something. Get out, be on your feet, explore. Really get your mind off things.

After all these years since you last visited the carnival, it was pretty impressive to see they were still doing well. A circus had joined them, as well as many other new attractions. They even had a small Ferris wheel now and bumper cars. Nothing that was drawing you in, but people were queuing up in front of the rides, and you felt happy for the carnival people to have a lot of traction.

With a heavy sigh, you reminded yourself not to think so transactionally. Your mind immediately slipped into dangerous territory as you tried to hypothetically figure out how well business was going for them. Your job was one of the reasons that you decided to come visit your family, rarely ever getting the chance to these days. You knew it was normal for children to leave home, move away, start their own families and work, but just last week, you sat in your office, looking at your work computer, when you realized you hadn’t even called home in months. These days, everything was only about numbers and profit, and you were sick and tired of it.

Life had become a drag, you couldn’t deny it. Get up, brush your teeth, drink coffee, work, come home, have dinner, sleep. All the hobbies you once had, passions and dreams, were neatly packed up in your moving boxes still. You never even opened them since you moved to the big city. Back then, you had become incredibly busy trying to build your life. You imagined that things would change once you settled, opened yourself up to new job opportunities, and organized your free time. But instead of the bright, sparkling future, you envisioned, you felt trapped between responsibilities and your job. You hadn’t met new people in years! And the old ones were slowly forgetting about you since you never had time to go out with them.

Before you knew it, you were burned out, craving things you couldn’t have and pitying yourself for it.

Even when you came home, one of the first things you heard was how proud everyone was of you for making it. For getting a good job and working hard so you could afford a - small, and a little moldy - apartment in the city. How could you break the news to them that your visit wasn’t a planned family reunion, but you, trying to flee from your depressing life for a while? That you were, in fact, not happy at all about the measly salary you had to live off on and that you’ve been eating the same kind of recipe for weeks to no end?

No, you couldn’t do it.

Admitting that what you chose to do wasn’t fulfilling or exciting you as much as you always thought it would was hard, no question. Almost as hard as sitting next to your dad on the couch, watching boring ass shows, and having him point out that the people depicted on the television weren’t as much of a big deal as they thought. Actors - or creative jobs in general - had no worth in your small-town, hands-on kind of family. They weren’t too happy when you decided to leave the town to pursue greater things, preferring if you had stayed and taken over the family’s craft store. But here you were, back in town after finding nothing but disappointment in the city, unwilling to admit that maybe they had been right.

Taking a deep breath, you held back some tears as you stood in the middle of the long pathway between the stands, leading up to the circus and around the carnival site. People were walking by, laughing, enjoying themselves. And then, there was you: a complete downer. You came out here to have fun and get your mind off things, not to be more miserable than you were in the city or at your parents’ place!

Surprisingly, the only sound that could break through to you in the cacophony of voices and jingles was a whistle. Not the shouting of the stand owners around you. Not the squeals of delight and screams of the children who had too much sugar. No, it was a simple whistle calling for your attention, short and directed at you, that made you lift your chin, looking around you.

“Hey there, Cutie,” someone called out to you, and your eyes locked on the face behind the voice, your body twisting into the direction. A young man who couldn’t be older than you waved at you, his lips turning into a grin as your eyes finally met. Brown curls framed a pretty face, a red, round clown’s nose glued to his real one. He was standing behind the counter of one of those throw-a-ball-at-cans stalls, inviting you closer. You had already passed by it while in thought, but now you noticed the stand was barely visited by other people. That, and the random person calling out from it, intrigued you. Not least because his gentle, yellow eyes were beckoning you closer as if he was just as captivated by you.

Looking side to side before turning, partly checking no one was planning on going to the stand, or you’d run into anyone, you stepped closer, curious. Watching you approach with a sense of satisfaction, the man ducked down briefly, pulling up three heavy balls used for the game and placing them on the counter before you. He presented them to you with an inviting gesture, still smiling from ear to ear now that he had your attention.

“It’s bad manners to whistle at people,” you reminded him, glancing behind him at the rows of cans neatly stacked. No doubt the bottommost ones were drilled into the board underneath them to make it impossible to win big prizes from this stall, even though they tried to hide the scam. Not that you wanted to win anything. You didn’t even want to play. But you also didn’t know what exactly the man wanted from you, other than play his game.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend, but…” Taking a seat on the counter next to you, the operator leaned towards you, and the smell of cologne wafted from him, earthy and warm. Like wood and spices. You couldn’t help taking a deep breath, the scent enveloping you gently, drawing you towards him, as the guy continued. “You looked a bit upset standing there. I thought you could need some distraction.”

Giving him a half-hearted smile, you looked between him, the balls, and the cans as he invited you with a broad gesture of his hand to throw one. He didn’t even ask you to pay up, but perhaps this was just a way to draw in more customers if they saw you play or kill the boredom of not having any customers otherwise.

“And you think hitting tin cans will help make aaaaaaall my worries go away?” you questioned sarcastically.

The man’s lips parted, showing his teeth as he grinned, hearing your reply, seemingly amused by your feistiness. Picking up one of the balls, he threw it in the air a couple of times, catching it in the same hand before holding it out to you. “Did for me. My tin cans solved all my problems. They might do the same for you?”

Even though this was definitely a strange situation, you took the ball he gave you. By all means, you appreciated the distraction, even if it was some stranger and you, playfully bickering and throwing balls at tin cans. Aiming at the center of the cans, you focused your throw, hoping to perform well despite it being just a kids’ game. It was good to know you hadn’t lost your bite yet when it came to challenges. You sure loved the tin toss when you were a kid, always wanting to win the biggest stuffed animal possible. But now, believing in the reality of never being able to win since it was rigged, it was kind of silly how easily excitable you still were.

There was just something about this stand that really got to you.

Just as you expected, you were able to knock off the top one and one can in the second row. But while the pyramid tumbled a little, nothing more happened. It was silly. Silly enough to get a little upset about it. Looking back at the guy, you noticed his eyes never moved from you, even when you were focused on the game, the corners of his lips curling higher as you looked back at him, now a little flustered that he was watching your fail so intently.

“I actually feel worse now,” you admitted, trying to laugh off the embarrassment.

“Oh, don’t,” he purred somewhat comfortingly. It felt like he was absolving you of your embarrassment, reminding you it was not that big of a deal. All of a sudden, the man lifted his legs over the counter, letting them hang down next to you before jumping to the ground. Standing on your level now, you noticed how tall he was, looking down at you with a mix of gentleness and… something you couldn’t determine yet. He was much more handsome than you had noticed at first glance, strong arms with defined muscles, giving his body a tender but muscular look. Wearing only a vest instead of a proper shirt, you could see the outlines on his chest before he suddenly disappeared behind you. Those big, strong arms wrapped around you just a second later, and you tensed in surprise, unsure what to make of the situation.

“See, there’s a trick to it, Sweetheart.”

Before you knew what he was doing, he pressed another ball back into your hand, guiding that hand upwards with his own. His chest pressed up to your back, your hips snuggly sitting against his. With the other hand, he pinned your free hand to the counter, urging you to lean forward a little as he lifted your throwing arm into the air and in position.

Not only were you completely enveloped by his body, but the scent of his cologne was also stronger now, tickling your senses again. It was hard to breathe in anything but this man, alongside the warmth of his body against yours, making you melt. His touch was gentle but no less assertive than the rest of his body, sending goosebumps over your skin, all while you felt his muscles move with your body as he directed your throw. This was more contact than you had with anyone in a long time, the years of not dating since college now showing you exactly how needy you were for this. You felt incredibly greedy for wanting more from this stranger, but he probably wasn’t aware of how strongly you missed being so close to someone. It was weird that you were so willing to get riled up by this stranger, but at the same time, it was exactly the distraction you had wanted. What was life without a bit of fun, right? Nonetheless because his scent was slowly turning you on with just how tempting it was.

When he said, “Now!” your body didn’t question his instruction, reacting instinctively to him, letting go of the ball in your hand, and… hitting all of the cans. The crashing sound of the tin cans falling to the ground while you stared in disbelief was only drowned out by the chuckle in your ear as the operator closed the distance to praise you, “Now that was an excellent throw, Darling.”

You instantly felt weak in the knees, hoping he couldn’t feel your body relying on him for support. Thankfully, your ears were covered by hair as you felt them grow hot after he whispered the sweet praise for the throw into them, rendering you flustered. It made you feel like a teenager again, flirting with the cute upperclassman. “Feeling better already?” His voice - a honeyed mumble - was still coming from right beside your ear. But you could hear the grin on his face all while you felt his body grind against yours from behind as he waited for your reply.

Taking a barely hideable deep breath, you hoped you wouldn’t stutter as you turned your head in his direction, glancing at him from over your shoulder. It had become quite obvious that he was enjoying this, so it was only fair if you teased him right back. He watched you squirm in his hold, feeling it as you pressed your buttcheeks against his crotch challengingly, first surprised that you’d play along, then grinning knowingly.

“That went really fast. I think I need another demonstration?” you purred innocently, all while brushing up against him with obvious intention.

“Of course, Sugar,” he agreed, wasting no time pressing you against the stall’s counter, making sure there was not an inch of space between your bodies. While you took a sharp breath, he ran his fingertips along your arm and down to your hands, both of his hands gripping yours from above suddenly, lacing your fingers. “Pay attention now,” he ordered assertively, teasing you with his voice ringing through your skull.

“Lift.” He stretched your arm high in the air, bringing it up and behind his own head, your shoulder close enough to his lips that you thought he was going to kiss it. Instead, you felt the vibration of his voice against your skin, making you tense as budding arousal made itself known between your legs. For a moment, he remained in this position, feeling your bodies breathe against each other, you so perfectly pinned between him and the counter.

“Focus on where you want to throw.” How? you wondered, his voice being the only thing that was captivating you right now, stealing all the focus as you wished he’d murmur it more into your ear. All you wanted was to lean in further to him, a complete stranger, and feel more of his body all over yours. This was less of a demonstration of how to throw balls than it was a demonstration of how good his body fit against yours.

“And throw!” Saying that, he directed you to lower yourself into your knees, ground his hips against yours, and jolted your bodies upwards until you were standing on your tiptoes, leaning over the counter. The bulge in his pants fit right in between your ass cheeks, letting you feel the delicious length you were dealing with as you let go of the ball at his command.

Unsurprisingly for you - even after the thorough instructions - you didn’t hit the cans as planned, the ball bouncing off the back of the stall, while the man let out a teasing, “Oh… That’s too bad,” clearly still smiling as he said that. Placing his hands on your hips for a moment, he pulled you back against him while your breath hitched. You felt like you were on a rollercoaster of emotions, pressing your legs together tightly to somewhat get a hold on yourself. “I’d have loved to reward you for that throw, Buttercup.”

Letting go of you, you whipped around, holding on to the counter behind you as the guy laughed, putting his hands in the air innocently as he walked to the side of the stall, letting himself in through the door again. “But alas,” he sighed, leaning down to collect the balls you threw and putting them away.

“All I have for you is this rose.” Pulling forth one of the cheapest prizes, a plastic flower, he slipped it behind your ear, leaning on the counter, supported by his arms. “But I’m sure I at least got your mind off things, right?”

With your heart still racing, you tried to keep the eye contact, the brilliant, citrine glow of his not being subtle about how much he enjoyed this too, as it drilled into you. You could tell he was a terrible tease, but you had to admit he wasn’t wrong. At least for a little bit, he made you forget about your worries, even if you found it hard to admit. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Tin Toss Boy?” you challenged him, keeping your chin high and proud, his smile growing wider with excitement.

“It’s Rhys. But if my little demonstration wasn’t enough to help you with your worries, feel free to drop by again tomorrow. I’ll be here aaaall weekend, happy to help.”

Winking at you, you couldn’t help but laugh for the first time since the exchange started. When you told your parents you’d be going to the carnival, this wasn’t what they thought you were doing. In fact, it wasn’t what you thought you’d do that day either. Chuckling, you took the rose from behind your ear, twirling the plastic stem between your fingers.

“Maybe I will, Rhys,” you made an open promise to him, turning to walk away as you heard him take a sharp breath before letting out a small, pleasurable grumble. You could feel his eyes on you, scanning you from head to toe, and it made you feel even hotter, hearing and feeling that he liked what he saw.

Looking back over your shoulder, your eyes met as you heard him say, “God, I hope.”

When you returned home, your parents had already gone to sleep, the house quiet and dark. You were still holding the rose in your hands, twirling it before your nose again, still faintly smelling his cologne on it. A draft of the scent and your body instantly remembered how his chest felt against your back, the vibrations of his voice in your ear teasing long-forgotten desires inside of you, and most of all, the hard resistance in his pants as you pressed against his crotch.

No matter how strange and intrusive this stranger had been, you couldn’t help that he set off a lot of neediness inside you, making you ache for him between your legs and even deep inside your core. You had never clicked with someone like Rhys before. Someone confident, eager, and dominant with what he wanted. It flattered you beyond imagination that he wanted you of all people; certainly, he’d have enough options with his dashing looks. But you remembered the hunger festering in his eyes as he looked after you, the thought better than sex itself. Maybe he was bored, perhaps just a little weird, but you’d be damned if you didn’t return for another taste of adventure you had with him the next day.

However, that night, you could only dream about what he’d demonstrate to you next.

#Rhys #Rhys Aspen #yandere oc #yandere!oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

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sleazysquid · 2 years

Text

Sick

Izuku Midoriya x Reader (dark content)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

a/n: This was a headcanon list that turned into a small fic, this is my first time posting dark content, please message me if I need to add more TW tags or such. Thank you!

Content warnings: reader is female, HEAVY noncon ,dumbification, power imbalance, cum eating (f receiving), spit play, unprotected sex + forced creampie (light breeding mention but it’s up to the reader’s interpretation), dacryphilia, yandere themes?

*All characters aged up, Izuku is a pro hero and you are too.*

Under his soft demeanor he’s got some of the most dark and depraved fetishes imaginable. Those bright beautiful green orbs that glimmer and have hope for the world are fluttering with long suppressed lust. Maybe it’s the way you flounce around in clothing that shows just barely too much skin? The way your delicate hands rest on his arm as you ask him questions after pro meetings. He’s not sure why he feels this way about you, Izuku knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help the way he’s stroked himself to the image of using you like a little toy. And today, is finally the day he stops dreaming and starts doing. There’s just something you.. about snuffing out that innocence and making you completely his. A darling that’ll let him fulfill everything he’s ever wanted, every sick desire he’s thought about.

It’s been nothing but meetings and viewing profiles of too criminals and villains on the move all day. Wednesdays are always like this, boring to the newly crowned number one hero since crime rates have dwindled once again. An intermission between meetings offers him an opening of invitation. Izuku trails after you as you make your way down to the vending machines downstairs.

He taps your shoulder, “Hey, wanna hang out at my house after this next meeting?” His voice chokes out. You smile sweetly, unsuspecting of the dark undertone to his question. Unsuspecting to the way he shifts around hiding his arousal of the thoughts racing around his mind.

“Sure! I’d love to go over some strategies for this new mission. Everyone tells me you’re pretty good at planning ahead and preparing for the worst!” You chirp.

He smiles back, “Sounds great! Let’s meet up back here and we’ll take the train to my house.” His reply is warm, with hints of nerves.

Izuku has doubts in his mind for the rest of the meeting, fidgeting with his pen, tapping fingers throughout each villain presentation. The growing guilt ringing through his ears, slide after slide of each villain’s crime. Sexual assault, kidnapping, it all sticks out to him like a sore thumb. He really doesn’t want to hurt you, and he certainly doesn’t want to be grouped in with the rest of these awful men presented on screen. Maybe he won’t go through with it after all. And it’ll be just that. Hanging out and collaborating. Yeah. That’s all it’ll be. The both of you meet up afterwards and walk down to the train station. The conversation is light hearted, drawing smiles and giggles from you whenever he stutters or attempts to make a joke. You’re too precious to be hurt in such a way, he thinks. You’re an amazing friend to him! Maybe establishing a relationship over time would just be better.

However, during the train ride back, he notices the way you press against him to keep your balance. Every bump delivering shivers down his spine as your body gives way to the train’s advances. As much as he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s made up his mind. Izuku’s a patient man. Some would say too patient. But the way you’re already acting towards him, in his mind, you’re going the one to be subjected to his vile explorations tonight.

———————————————————————

It starts off small, sitting so close next to you that your legs touch. He’s tapping a pen against the exposed plush skin just below your skirt. The pen slowly creeps its way up and past the hem; you’re too focused on your notes to notice as you babble on about your next strategy. His advances get bolder as your attempts to brush his heavy touches off become weaker. You’re lost in thought, there’s no way a pro hero would hurt their coworker right? Maybe you’re misinterpreting his actions? Maybe the way you’re dressed is inviting him in?

Just as sudden as he came onto you, you’re lifted onto his lap with ease, the adrenaline rushing straight to his cock as it hardens against your ass. You feel powerless against him. After all, your quirk would never measure up to the raw strength of One For All, something he’s quick to threaten you with if you’re getting too squirmy for his taste. He’s kissing and suckling at your neck absentmindedly, leaving deep purple marks. Skirt resting above your mid drift, he plays with the waistband of your panties, pulling them up to watch the creases of your folds appear, your body beginning to betray you as arousal starts to soak through. Tighter, he pulls, until the fabric begins to bunch, barely poking at your entrance. Izuku glides his fingers along your slit, pushing your panties inside for a brief moment.

You’re squirming too much for his taste, trying your best to wriggle free from his tight grasp once more. Izuku slams you down on the floor, your head hitting the wood paneling hard sending you into a slight daze. He pins you down so easily with his body weight while his hands wander around every surface of your body. Groping and kneading every soft bit of your flesh. His eyes filled with deprivation never lose sight of your body. He’s meticulous, taking pauses followed by shallow breaths before peeling off each layer of sweat drenched piece of clothing, evident of your lost battle with him. When you start crying, he licks your tears up from the bottom of your jaw all the way to your bottom lash as he buries himself in your cunt, shallow thrusts to savor each time your cunny twitches and recoils in protest.

Every time you vocalize for his mercy, it makes his heart skip a beat and he can’t help but egg you on to keep crying out for help. So you lower your voice, you don’t want to give him that satisfaction. You quiet down to hitched sobs that hiccup and squeak each time he fucks into your body like his personal flesh light. Izuku catches on so quickly, unsheathing his cock almost entirely before plunging full force back into you, bruising not only your cervix but your pubic bone during the repeated process. It’s a calculated inconsistency that earns him choked cries and an open mouth to spit into.

While Izuku thrusts closer to his climax, a looming threat hangs over your head. You weakly attempt to push him off. “Please… Izuku.. please stop”

“We cant stop now, my love. I-I haven’t even had the chance to cum inside.” He fumbles with his words, a classic trait that you’re too familiar with. Anxiety begins to bubble throughout your body, the words “cum inside” ring every alarm in your system. You’re not on birth control. You’re not on anything. Your pushes only strengthen by a tiny bit, body still bruised from the initial fall. You’re kicking your legs, begging him to stop.

“Izuku please… please oh my god…please stop! I’m not on any birth control! Please just let me go or… I’ll do whatever you want just please not this!” His movements slow to a halt. For a brief moment, you think you’ve scared him off. But he leans down, wraps his arms around you and kisses your cheek gently.

His hot breath burning your ear in a sickly sweet voice, “I’ll help take care of whatever happens. Please, just give me this moment and I’ll take such good care of you.” He repeats it over and over, “I’ll take such good care of you” Your mind goes blank as the wet slapping sounds fill your senses.

His moans echo and etch into your mind as his brutal plunges start to slow, eventually stopping followed by his heavy panting. You feel… unbelievably full. You feel disgusting, glistening with a mixture of his saliva and sweat. But worst of all, you know you’ve surrendered to him entirely, not even attempting to flee once he’s had his way. Your dewy eyes gaze into the once hopeful green orbs, now half lidded and drinking in the fucked-out afterglow of your body. Before you’re even aware of what’s going on, he’s between your legs, lapping at his own fluid as it drips out of you. You look away in shame, the ceiling being your best option to stare at as he starts sucking your clit. He’s gentle at first, eventually growing into a rougher approach, taking a keen observation to how you cover your mouth from the forced pleasure. He dips two curled fingers deep into your cunt while his tongue swirls around your nub, desperate to make you snap under his will.

The attention to your nerves is too much to keep quiet about. The hand covering your mouth falls limp to your side as you arch your back in pleasure; the coil deep inside you finally unraveling making you cum hard with choked gasps and hot tears streaming down your face. He politely pries your mouth open, spitting a mixture of his cum and yours. A sick combination that you’ll never forget as it slithers down your throat. You’re hoping, praying this is finally over, your body limp and frail. Luck hasn’t been at your side at all today, and it won’t ever be again. Izuku’s body doesn’t know the meaning of recharge time in this case. The second he’s spent after eating your cunt pumped full of his seed, he’s sprung up again. With such impeccable stamina, it’s all the worse for you as he’s going to spend hours enacting every fantasy he’s ever wanted to try and by the end of it, his fetishes become yours too.

#dark content.#izuku x reader #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.dumbification

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nunchiimagines · 3 years

Text

Pied Piper: 2

— Summary: You’re a recent grad who was given the dream opportunity to intern abroad in South Korea. When you moved into a small, somewhat homely, apartment complex in Gangnam, you were pleasantly surprised to have become neighbors with 7 very intriguing, very charming, very handsome young men. You weren’t expecting them to have become so attached to you so quickly and that’s probably because you’re actually their reincarnated soulmate. To make matters even more convoluted, they’re also part of the mafia, they’re demons, and they’re heir to the throne of the underworld. Who’d thought that your once normal life would change so drastically over the course of such a short time?

— Pairing: demon lord! mafia boss! bts x poc! curvy! intern! reader

— Genre: super fluff / poly!au / mafia!au / demon!au / soft yandere!au / soulmate! au

— Status: On Going

— Warnings: mentions of the pandemic, mentions of multiple attempts at sexual assault, erotic thoughts, violent actions, illegal dealings, fluff

— Word Count: 4.6k

~MASTERPOST~

CHAPTERS: Prev - Next

**AUTHORS NOTE**

Here’s chapter 2! Please enjoy!! :D

lol have my authors notes ever been this short?? :P

_____________________________________________________________

You were a couple of weeks into your new routine and it was more or less amazing. You eased into the work setting far quicker than you had ever expected and you became a fan favorite amongst your seniors. Your diligent work ethic, adaptability, and cooperation amongst peers and collaborators was an ideal standard your internship expected. You even made two new companions in the process: Gwan Jiwoo and Arielle Monet. Jiwoo was one of the many collaborators from a big named pharmaceutical company in Korea and Arielle, known as Ari, was actually another foreign intern from France who had been working here a couple of months prior to your arrival.

The three of you were put into a long term project together; you as the designer, Ari as the director, and Jiwoo as the informant for what the pharmaceutical company was looking for. You all meshed so well together that it was hard not to ease into eachothers varying personalities. Your seniors were very pleased with this, as they were clearly fearful of upsetting this company, and often checked on you regularly to ensure all was still kosher.

What made things even better was your relationship with Taehyung and Jimin. You weren’t sure how long they’re friendly gestures would last but you found yourself pleasantly surprised by their continuous kind and caring actions towards you. It felt safe to call them friends at this point and the thought of that made you happier than it did when compared to Jiwoo and Ari.

Though you liked both Jiwoo and Ari very much, it was quite clear they had already established their own separate friend circles. You never really did get to see any of Jiwoo’s friends, always calling and harassing the poor man to come out. But that was the extent of it. Ari, on the other hand, was a bit different. She always had pictures and videos and meet ups with her friends. You actually met all three girls in her circle. They were friendly and nice and easy to talk to.

Unfortunately, they held a much more party-esque personality which was quite the opposite of your own indoors, homebound style. They respected that and actually spotted you an offer due to it. Apparently, a renowned nightclub known as HOPE WORLD was opening back up after the COVID restrictions finally lifted. It’s one of the most popular clubs in the world, difficult to get in and highly sought after. The club manager requires very specific requirements that are absolutely mandatory just to get your name cleared to be considered eligible to enter. One of those things was a designated contact, one that can be available 24/7 in case something happens to the person or party who used that contact. And they wanted you to be that.

You agreed without any hesitation, happy to lend a hand. And because of you, they were accepted full access inside the club. They felt that pampering and lavishing you for the remainder of the week was an acceptable payment for your kindness. You tried to decline their gestures but still found yourself eating the meals they’d bring you or keeping the cute trinkets from the stores they’d visited. You felt this was a bit overboard, not understanding the dying need to get inside this club. Was it really as great as they claimed? You couldn’t help but wonder as the day approached for you to be on standby while your acquaintances visited HOPE WORLD.

JUNG HOSEOK

‘Taehyung, tell me when these visions started up.’ Jin texted in the groupchat.

‘The day I met her. Granny introduced me and within a couple of minutes I was entranced. It was so weird.’ Taehyung responded.

‘Jimin, you started getting these vivid scenes too?’ Jin texted once more.

‘Yeah...but it was like instantly after Taehyung brought her.” Jimin stated.

‘Seems like the more of us she meets, the quicker the progression takes hold.’ Yoongi texted.

‘So...What does that mean?’ Jimin asked.

‘She’s our soulmate, right? She has to be!’ Taehyung typed.

‘Slow down there. We need to figure this out one step at a time.’ Seokjin chastised.

‘She’s only met you two, right?’ Yoongi questioned.

‘Yeah. We’ve been keeping an eye on her. But it’s like the more we’re around her...the deeper this feeling is.’ Jimin admitted.

‘I’ll get a hold of the elder mage about this. For the time being, just keep doing what you’re doing.’ Yoongi said.

‘Hell of a time to be in Japan right now.’ Taehyung teased.

‘How are Namjoon and Jungkook?’ Jimin inquired.

The conversation switched topics rather quickly in the group chat shared between the 7 men. Hoseok stared at his phone, reading over what was stated with a curious thought. He’d hope he’d get to meet you sooner rather than later. He found you very intriguing but was never blessed with the opportunity to see you loitering around the apartment. To be fair, he was preparing the club for tonight's events and that required early mornings and even later nights for the past month. So much preparation was needed, but Hoseok was an exceedingly diligent man and accepted the unfavorable conditions he had to endure for this.

HOPE WORLD was like his baby and he needed to ensure it was as perfect and ready as he had always had it. Speaking of, he went over the paperwork submissions who were cleared for entry. He happened to pick up one of a group of 4 young girls. The contact listed took him by surprise, a wide smile creeping on his face as he put 2 and 2 together. What were the chances that (Y/N) (L/N) would be listed as a designated contact?

To clarify, designated contacts need to go through serious background checks. You don’t get to put just anyone on there, your designated contact needs to also be cleared before group entry can be cleared. Therefore, Hoseok had access to a lot of your personal information. He got to find out about you before you found out anything about him.

Your picture alone was adorable to look at. You were very attractive and, according to both his younger brothers, you had an even more attractive personality. The thought of you was making a weird feeling stir in the pit of his stomach. You’d never even come in contact yet and he was already getting triggered.

Before his thoughts could go any further, a knock came to the door. Hoseok allowed access to the person and it was Chunja, his right hand woman, a gumiho, coming to deliver the all clear for opening up to the public. Hoseok smirked, pleased to hear this as he got up to coat himself in his bright red jacket. He had a feeling tonight was going to be one he’d never forget.

The crowd was bustling. It was lively, intense, invigorating. Hoseok watched from the VIP section as the dancers below let loose from their everyday worries. It was entertaining to see humans finally remove their masks, to allow their bodies to break free from the chains of traditions, rules, and laws. Ironic, given the club followed a strict guideline, but not so much so that they couldn't be free and have fun.

While the party ensued, he was notified that the two families who rented out the private rooms had finally arrived and started negotiations. Though HOPE WORLD is a nightclub, it is also a cover up for dirty dealings and negotiations between people who’d rather not let the law know about their actions. Hoseok was pleased to hear all was going well and instructed that the guards keep watch over some of the loitering members from the families who had to wait outside the rooms. Unfortunately, this order was put out a little too late.

Within the next hour, Hoseok was immediately called down to the private rooms where a scuffle took place. When he reached the location, he saw that it was far from what he was initially told. 4 girls lay inside in one of the unoccupied rooms. Two were completely passed out but being checked by Chunja, one was throwing up in the corner in the back, and the other, the only non-korean girl, was crying in the arms of one of the guards.

Face down on the floor were several men who had no shirts on and some who were almost completely naked. The guards had them pinned to the ground, bruised and bloodied from attempting to fight off the staff. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was happening here and Hoseok was beyond livid. For now though, he had to maintain his cool.

Walking over to the non-korean girl crying on the couch, he began gently questioning her.

“T-They….they said that...they just wanted to drink with us and talk. W-When we drank the drinks…” the girl trailed off.

Hoseok followed where she lazily pointed to. He picked up the partially filled cup and sniffed it. It was clearly roofied but with a drug that was far more complex then your typical date-rape substance. He set the cup back down and the girl began bawling.

“They were...they were going to…”

Hoseok hushed her, urging her to speak no more. He knew what she was going to say and did not want her to feel embarrassed speaking the trauma out loud. Though she had no reason to feel embarrassed, that did not prevent it from being present.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“A-Arielle. Arielle Monet.”

Arielle? That name sounded vaguely familiar. Within a matter of seconds, another guard came in with her file. He skimmed it and immediately recognized the name. (Y/N) (L/N). So you were their designated contact. How interesting. Hoseok gave thorough instructions to the staff present. The men from the families were to be removed and placed somewhere in secret, the girls needed to be checked medically, accommodated, and prepared to be sent home, and Hoseok himself was going to make the call to you.

It was 10 minutes max before you came rushing into the club, escorted to a separate private room where the girls were relocated. Inside was Hoseok, Chunja, and the group. Your immediate response was to embrace Arielle, checking over her exposed skin to see of any immediate damage. You spoke briefly, your typical conversation between two friends in a situation such as this before she approached both Hoseok and Chunja.

“Thank you! Thank you for taking care of them. For stopping those...those monsters from…” you took a deep sigh.

“Thank you for being so diligent and thorough. Were the police called?” you asked, calming down a bit.

Hoseok and Chunja observed you for a brief moment before speaking.

“The appropriate actions have been made, ma’am. We did a medical checkup on all the girls and nothing aside from being drugged had transpired. If they feel like heading to the hospital, then we can accommodate the costs. Aside from that, they are free to leave.” Chunja spoke first.

“Don’t their statements need to be taken?” you questioned, cocking your head.

Hoseok stayed silent, not saying anything. Chunja shot him a look before speaking again.

“Given the trauma they’ve just experienced, we found it more appropriate to have them go home and rest instead of having them lingering here any longer.”

For some reason, even though something about that was logically wrong, you felt it was no longer appropriate to push the issue. The girls really did look tired and it was late. You thanked them one last time before some staff members assisted you by bringing them out to a car and sending them home. Once you all had left, Chunja looked at Hoseok with a raised brow.

“What was that?” she asked.

Hoseok finally snapped out of his daze before looking at Chunja.

“Huh?”

“Boss, are you okay?” she said with slight concern.

“Uh...yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t know what came over me.”

Chunja lingered around a bit longer before accepting his response.

“Where are those men at?” Hoseok asked.

“In the basement, the families have been notified and have….agreed to cut their losses.” she stated.

“Good, because I’m feeling really pissed right now.” he mumbled, grabbing a nailed bat from a hidden compartment in the wall.

An hour had passed before Hoseok pulled up to the small apartment complex. He was no longer sporting his red suit and he had to change out of his, no longer, white shirt. He had sighed, the pent up frustrations finally leaving his body. Walking up the stairs he saw the back of a short curvy figure. When the figure turned around, so did his mood.

“Oh! Hello there.” you said, offering him a smile.

“Hello, fancy seeing you here.” he responded back.

“I live on the 3rd floor actually, and you?” you asked.

“3rd floor as well.”

You paused for a moment, studying his face before a look of realization hit you.

“Uhm...are you by chance...related to Taehyung and Jimin?” you asked.

That heart shaped smile appeared followed by a chuckle.

“Yeah, those are my little brothers. They’ve been nice to you right?”

Seeing your eyes brighten and a wide smile beaming, it made Hoseok’s heart skip a beat. He completely understood why his brothers were so smitten. Why Taehyung was so convinced you were their soulmate. This feeling, this indescribable feeling the two younger ones felt had to be what Hoseok was experiencing. He was elated. He was hooked. He was going to make you theirs.

KIM SEOKJIN

Seokjin sighed with a heavy undertone of irritation. How many times this year has this happened? How many trips had he had to make just to visit this one man? He was getting tired of it and his patience was wearing thin. He had hoped for Don Jihyo’s sake, that this would be the last time.

Seokjin was on his way to retrieve late loan money. Again. Don Jihyo is a 38 year old lead director at a small yet well known design company. He has issues with maintaining money and often takes out loans he had no chance of actually paying back. Beaten within an inch of his life thanks to some loan sharks, he enlisted the help from the mafia who took pity on his situation and offered aid. Unfortunately, he has a nasty habit of not paying back his monthly statements and Seokjin is being sent to find out why.

“Poor bastard probably went gambling again. Does he ever learn?” he asked aloud.

Getting out of his car, entering the building, and going to the top floor, he was met with more than a few stares. He was used to this, people often becoming charmed by his looks, even in passing. But right now, he couldn't relish in it. No, instead he had to waste his time going after a man who had no business running a company. He probably wasn’t even paying his employees properly either. How irritating.

When he reached the designated door, he didn’t even bother knocking, waltzing right on in with a blank look on his face. However, to his surprise, sat an additional figure. One with doe eyes, pretty brown skin, and plush lips. That person was none other than you. Jimin and Taehyung said you were interning at a design company but he must've missed the details of it being this design company. Of all companies, why this one? His gaze lingered on you a bit before turning to Jihyo. God the older man looked terrified but he was clearly up to something. Seokjin didn’t like that.

“M-Mr. Kim! What a surprise to have you show up! What brings you in today?” Jihyo stuttered.

You looked warly between Seokjin and Jihyo, unsure of what you should do. Jihyo made no attempt at dismissing you, taking advantage of your innocence to prevent Seokjin from doing anything...violent. What an asshole. Seokjin twitched, his irritation bubbling from within. Why was this pissing him off more than it should?

“Could you excuse us ma’am?” Seokjin politely asked.

“Of course, I-”

“No Ms. (Y/N), stay.” Jihyo said firmly.

You paused your actions midway, frozen and unsure of how to proceed. Seokjin shot Jihyo a look. A very deadly look. Not for the reasons you're thinking though. No. For the simple fact he so much as uttered your name in a demanding tone. His skin was crawling and his blood was boiling. He’d never get this mad. Never. There were people who have physically done worse and Seokjin never so much as flinched. So why now? Why is the most collected and calm mafia member amongst his brothers about to shoot this man into a bloody pulp?

It was because of you. You were the reason why. And Seokjin realized it fairly quickly. His out of character feelings were all stemming from his desire for you. To be near you. Around you. Inside of you. Oh how this sudden rush of lust, longing, and desire hit him at the worst possible moment. And Jihyo was ruining this euphoric reunion. He needs to be removed. Now.

“Mr. Don. I think it’s best I leave.” you suggested with a slightly shaky voice.

Jihyo grabbed your hand, rubbing circles at the top of your skin. The feeling made you nauseous, a sense of dread engulfing you slowly. Arielle had told you that Jihyo was a pervert, especially to young pretty staff members. But you had never been with him alone before, not until now at least. Arielle or Jiwoo were always by your side so he could never make a move on you. Now that Arielle was temporarily on leave and Jiwoo was out of town, the project was on hold and you were left alone. You had silently thanked Seokjin for walking in when he did, but it seems that Jihyo remains shameless, even now.

Unfortunately for him, he had pushed Seokjin’s last button. He grabbed Jihyo’s wrist and ripped his hand from around yours. He glared a menacing look at the older man, eyes now fully developed into a crimson red.

“Do you always sexually harass your staff members or is it only when someone is watching? You fucking pervert.”

Jihyo stayed quiet, a look of fear evident in his eyes. You stood there stunned, watching the scene unfold before you.

“Miss,” Seokjin said, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Please excuse us and wait outside.”

You nodded, not even giving it a second thought. As soon as you closed the door, Seokjin turned his attention back on Jihyo. He swiftly pulled out one of his handguns and pointed the cold metallic tip to the older man’s forehead.

“Listen and listen well. By the end of this month, if you don't pay back what you owe, I’ll blow your fucking brains out. If you touch any of your staff members inappropriately, I’ll bow your fucking brains out. And if you ever so much as breathe around that girl again, I’ll drag you to hell myself and feed your corpse to satan. Do I make myself clear?”

“I-I…”

“I said,”

Seokjin clocked the gun, the familiar sound sinking deep within the ears of Jihyo.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes sir. Yes sir, I swear on my life. I swear to god I will.” he said, tears in his eyes.

Seokjin held the gun momentarily before putting it away. The man fell to his knees, cradling himself before profusely thanking Seokjin for giving him one last chance. Lucky for him, you were the reason he was still alive. Seokjin had every intention of killing Jihyo today but he didn't want you being around for that. He knows Jihyo will probably die by the end of the month anyway so he’ll wait for it to be more appropriate.

When he walked out the door and down the hallway, he wasn’t expecting you to be waiting there with a bottle of green tea. You cradled the bottle in your arms, deep in thought. You were completely unaware that he was standing near you with a charming smirk plastered on his face. You were so oblivious and so cute. So innocent. So intoxicating.

“You okay?” he asked.

You jumped a little before looking up at him. You blinked several times and then bowed to the man. When you stood back up, you handed him the drink. He looked at it and then back at you confused.

“It’s for you, as thanks.” you shyly stated, cheeks flushed.

Cute. Seokjin took the bottle and bowed back.

“There was no need for that but I won't turn down a gift.” he said with a smile.

“No. I should be doing more for you. I...I had been told a few times about Jihy- I mean Mr. Don’s behavior but this was the first time I had to experience it. If it weren’t for you...I..” you said trailing off.

“Listen,” Seokjin started.

“If he ever does anything to you again; touching, flirting, abusing his power. Anything at all. Let me know.” he said handing you a piece of paper.

You observed the writing, a phone number and name written on it. Kim Seokjin. Oh. Kim Seokjin!

“You’re...the oldest one. What a small world.” you said to yourself.

It took a minute to register what you said before he smiled sheepishly at you.

“Ahhh~, so my brothers talk about me huh? I hope they didn’t say anything bad about me.”

“Oh no no no! They always say good things! I promise! Jimin and Taehyung are always boasting about you! Even Hoseok complimented how good of a big brother you are!”

You kept talking excitedly about his younger brothers and something about that warmed his heart. The more you explained the more comfortable you got around him and the more expressive you became. Seeing this side of you was absolutely worth having to deal with Jihyo. Maybe he’d be a little less ruthless about how he’d murder him later.

JEON JUNGKOOK

Jungkook leaned against the car seat, thankful that he was free for the rest of the day. His flight from Japan with Namjoon and Yoongi had just landed and he was given the green light to go and rest. There was no telling him twice, as he immediately made a beeline for one of their waiting cars to take him back to the apartment.

That trip took more out of him than he’d ever imagine it would. He knew it wasn’t some simple deal between Bangtan and the Hideo family, but he wasn’t expecting it to have been as intense and suffocating as it was. Luckily, everything worked out and he know longer had to be in such a stuffy atmosphere anymore. Now he could just go home and relax in his bed. At least, that was the plan.

As soon as he made it to the apartment and up the stairs, his grandmother took no time in locating and babying him. They always did this, even when he was just an infant. It’s like everyone around him forgot that he was over the age of 20 and, in most cases, both taller and bigger than them. Though, he kinda liked it when it happened, especially from his grandmother. The fact that she (and many of the other older caretakers) treated them all like they were your people, like they weren’t the demon lord, kinda made him feel normal.

Unfortunately, her antics attracted more unwanted attention from neighboring individuals. First it was Jimin who came and started hugging and ruffing up his hair. This was followed by Taehyung who looped his arm around Jungkook's shoulders and tugged him into his chest. Jungkook couldn’t help the bubbling laugh but he truly was exhausted and just wanted to lay down now.

“How was the trip?” Jimin asked happily.

“It wasn’t bad. The meeting took...a long time but they accommodated us nicely. I feel like my face got all puffy from the flight though.” Jungkook pouted.

“Ahhh~ It’s not a big deal. It’ll go down after some time.” Taehyung encouraged.

“Did you want something to eat before heading off to bed?” their grandmother asked, inspecting his hands and face.

Jungkook was about to decline the offer when all of sudden he caught a moving figure in the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he went on alert, throwing a threatening gaze at the eavesdropper when all of sudden he froze in his spot. There you were, standing there nervously with a shy gaze. You had a ladle in your hand and a cute purple apron wrapped around your body. It accentuated your curvaceous figure nicely and Jungkook couldn’t help but linger his gaze on you. So you were the one his brothers were so caught up with.

You felt like you did something wrong when everyone just stared at you and kept quiet. Your face flushed and you looked at the grandmother pleadingly. She caught on to how uncomfortable her grandsons were making you and decided to take action.

“Jungkookie, this is (Y/N), our new resident. You two are closest in age actually. Make sure to look out for her, okay?”

Jungkook smiled and approached you, his boldness coming through so suddenly and unexpectedly. You made him want to be daring. You gave him energy. You enticed him. And all you were doing was standing there doing nothing. It felt almost challenging and it excited his inner daredevil.

When he was standing in front of you, he took pride in the fact that you were so much smaller than him. How you had to strain your neck to look him in the eye. How you looked so fragile and weak before him. God this was such a weird feeling. Like you were put there before him to be protected. Like he’d snap anyone’s neck who’d even looked at you the wrong way, touched you the wrong way, or even thought of you the wrong way. Jungkook felt this overbearing need to keep you hidden from the world. Safe from its malice. From all it’s evil.

“H-Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” you said with shyness still evident.

Your sweet voice was like an angelic tune entering his ears. He’d never heard anything so soft and comforting before.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m glad to have you here.”

Jungkook never broke eye contact with you, mesmerized by your beauty, by your scent, by your-

“Jungkook, stop scaring our friend!” Jimin said, slapping his back really hard.

The hit was hard enough to send the youngest staggering forward a little, bumping into you in the process. In response, he grabbed your arm and pulled you a bit too close to his chest. Though it was an honest accident, he couldn’t help but appreciate the current dynamic right now.

“I think you forget you're a buff bunny sometimes and a bit tall in stature too.” Taehyung teased.

Jungkook let go quickly and apologized. You beamed at him in return, thanking him for keeping you steady.

“Granny helped me make some food. It’s available if you’d like some. Only if you want though! I didn’t mean to overhear, but I heard you just came back and there’s plenty to go around. But no pressure, it’s no big deal!”

Your nervousness was going to make Jungkook implode. You were being way too cute for your own good and it was affecting more than just him. Jimin and Taehyung couldn’t help being as mesmerized as the youngest was, your flustered self causing their hearts to do all sorts of tricks.

“Sure, I’d love to.” Jungkook said.

You smiled happily at the man before leading him back into the communal kitchen. Taehyung and Jimin followed instantly without hesitation, almost like lost puppies. Their grandmother watched it all unfold before her, a knowing smile present on her lips. How easily they followed after you. How quickly they yielded to your voice. There was no mistaking it. You were no ordinary human. You were their soulmate. Their long sought after soulmate. And you were finally coming back into union after so many years of separation. How delightful she felt.

_____________________________________________________________

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bakugosbratx · 3 years

Text

Baby Eyes | Mafia Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Some non-con, blood, murder, Mafia Bakugo, Fem! Reader, bdsm, sexual intercourse, size kink, degrading, orgasm denial, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, etc.

Words: 2,896

A/N: thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate. It is really fun doing this collaboration with you. Daisy’s Event

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof click here to see my other works

Vegas.

Many dream of this city. The gambling, the drinks, the money, the night life. It has it all. Your dreams and worse nightmares can be made here all within a single night. The world may be cruel, but Vegas is even crueler. At least, it is for Y/N.

Your pistol was held tight in your trembling little hand. You have not been properly trained for this moment since in your late teens. The weapon felt foreign to the touch. You are now in your twenties and you are usually not doing this line of work, but since you wanted to disturb your significant other while he was working, he handed you the gun for you to handle.

“Since you want to be such a fucking cry baby, here.” He growled, shoving the pistol into your pounding chest. You gasped.

“S-Sir, I—“ You stammered, using the name he loved to be called by you. You would help it lessen your punishment, but the man did not budge.

“Don’t keep me waiting, brat. Finish this piece of shit off swiftly and quit your damn crying.”

You watched as he left into the city lights of Vegas before turning your attention back to the male before you. The man begged for mercy beneath you and your mouth feels dry.

“P-Please, ma’am. I-I have a w-wife and t-three beautiful c-children. I’ll g-give you your m-money next week. I-I promise.” The fearful man stammered amongst the abandoned dark alleyway. You have heard this speech by many like him when Katsuki brought you on his missions. It should just fall on deaf ears, but tears still brimmed your eyes as memories flooded back to the forefront of your damaged mind.

These memories are the reason you are in this predicament. You begged and squealed, running towards Katsuki and hanging onto his arm when he directed you to stay in the car. You two could have been gone by now, but you decided to intervene. Now you are here, about to commit another murder.

Your father was in this same position a few years ago. Begging for mercy before Katsuki slaughtered him right in front of you. Your cries still echo this alleyway during late, breezy nights. People think you have been disposed of as well. That is what eventually happened to the remainder of your family, but you are just under a new identity.

The barrel of the gun digs deeper into the victim’s temple. You attempt to find your strength to pull the trigger. You need to before Katsuki returns. He does not like waiting and you really are pushing what is left of his buttons today.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper out, closing your sorrow filled eyes and pressing down on the trigger. The feeling of blood splattering amongst your cold skin brought back even more unwanted memories. Falling to your knees, you began to cry hysterically in front of the fallen corpse.

Heavy footsteps came up behind you after a few moments. Katsuki has been watching the whole time and you know it. This is what made the experience even worse. You know his judgment is coming. He gave you a task and although you succeeded, it isn’t good enough. He hates your emotional ways. ‘Baby eyes’ as he would say. Always crying over something or someone.

A big calloused hand entangling into your hair with a deep sigh following. You could not look up at him. You hate him right now. You need to, at least, but the feeling of his large fingers stroking your scalp delivered comfort. A comfort he gives and takes away on a whim.

“Took you long enough.” Katsuki grumbled. You gaze up at him with a pitiful look he knows all too well. There was a certain aura to you that changed when your mind drifted to that night. The night he murdered your family right in front of you and all you could do is watch in terror.

“I-I’m sorry.” You muttered out, already accepting that Katsuki is annoyed with you. This is not your first murder and sure will not be your last. He has groomed you long enough for you to know your role.

Katsuki kicked the man’s head with his large foot so he could see the man’s pleading face. Katsuki is cruel in that way. He loved seeing his victim’s expressions in their final moments. Especially when his beautiful woman killed them.

Digging into the man’s pockets, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and black leather wallet to review what was contained inside it. The little cash the man held is now in Katsuki’s possession.

“Marlboro Reds,” Katsuki commented as he slipped the cigarette in between his moist lips and lit it up, “nice.”

Turning around to face you after letting the nicotine enter his system, he looks down at you. Grabbing your chin, you are forced to meet his gaze. You tremble under his touch.

“What did I say about that crying shit?” Katsuki recalls one of your many lectures.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, a little too loud for your own good. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed together, not pleased with your tone. His hand found a way to your neck, giving you a nice squeeze as he guides you up to your feet.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki growls, his red orbs shooting venom into you. Your arm is now tight into his grip as he leads you to the parked all black Lamborghini.

You climb into the passenger seat while Katsuki climbs into the driver’s. You used the napkins in the glove compartment to clean up your soiled face. Katsuki is already on his second cigarette as he drives to the mansion you both share. Considering how fed up he is with you and your antics, you are surprised that half of the box is not gone by now. You know you are in for it once you arrive home.

Katsuki pulled up to the house after some time. Your tears did not pause once the whole way there which only agitated Katsuki even more. He did not say a word as you know to follow the tall man inside. Straight up the spiral marble staircase to the master bedroom, you begin undressing as Katsuki does not appreciate the mess in his living space. Along with the fact you are always to be naked within the bedroom. That rule was set once you turned eighteen years of age.

You sat on the edge of the bed, not enjoying the look in Katsuki’s angry eyes. His muscular arms folded against his chest as he leaned against the wall, glaring into you. You feel small — as usual — within his presence. He is making sure you remember your place.

“What the hell were you thinking out there, Y/N?” Katsuki begins after moments have passed.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs in your bare lap. Your insides are curling with each passing second. You are not sure why you did what you did, honestly. You have seen numerous people plead for forgiveness at Katsuki’s feet, but Katsuki is always going to be a merciless man. Your body acted before your brain could compute. You just wanted to save him. Salvage your loved ones death in some way, shape, or form, but it can never be done.

“You have to give me a better excuse than that. This little rebellion you're on lately isn’t doing nothing but getting you into heaps of trouble.”

“It’s not a rebellion!” You snap back, tears still spilling from your orbs. “You killed my family, Katsuki!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, used to this statement coming from you. “Here we go again.” He scoffs with a tsk following shortly after. “We’ve been over this, Y/N. Your father sold you and your family out for cash. If anything, you should be fucking grateful I even let you live.”

“Grateful?” You repeat in disbelief, a half hearted chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it was because Katsuki let you take another life, maybe your parents' spirits are coming through, or maybe you’re just so fed up with him, but a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.

You stand up, strolling over to the man before you. His jaw is clenching as he examines each cowardly step you take towards him. You glare up to the man before you, quivering before his mighty presence.

“You killed my family, Katsuki,” you repeat through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki challenged, his profound amused smirk appearing. The look in your glossy irises said all the words you didn’t have the courage to speak. “Good thing I really don’t give a fuck about your forgiveness, princess.”

Katsuki’s words soaked into your veins like venom. His smug looks always made you want to beat it off of him. Ever since you have met him. You both know you have no match against him. He will always win. Always.

You have been stuck with him since you were fifteen years old. You two never had any relationship or any sexual conduct until you were the legal age of eighteen. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him over the years. He is all you know and Katsuki grew to like you over the years. Though he trained you to be the woman he wants you to be for him, you do throw a tantrum or two when needed.

“I hate you.” You sniveled.

“Sure you do. Let’s clean up that pretty face of yours so I can stuff it, eh?” Katsuki chuckled, cupping your chin with one hand so he can wipe your nose with a handkerchief with the other. You attempted to break loose of his firm grasp, but the male was not even phased.

“I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.” You admit allowed, still keeping the same angry tone within your words.

Katsuki arched his eyebrow, releasing your face from his grip and discarding the used cloth into the waste bin. “Considering the show you put on out there tonight, you’re lucky I’m not doing worse to you. I can always make that pretty ass of yours bruised too if you’d like?”

You immediately shake your head no. Your bottom is still a bit sore from two weeks ago when Katsuki put you over his knee. You are just now able to sit normal again. You do not need to go back to that.

“No, sir.” You stutter out, backing away from him and putting your hands behind your back. Katsuki is already pouring himself some whiskey into a whiskey glass that you make sure is always waiting on his dresser. He always enjoys a good drink after a long mission.

You take his black suit jacket off of him like expected and lay it on the dirty laundry hamper. Katsuki is already sitting on the bed, sipping on his alcoholic beverage, waiting for you to get to work. Kneeling before him, you begin unzipping his slacks and tugging down his underwear to reveal his erected cock. You take a moment to contemplate your future actions. You really did not want his dick in your mouth, but like Katsuki said before, you do not have a choice in the matter.

Your train of thought is derailed when Katsuki tugs on your hair. “Isn’t going to suck itself, brat. Get to work.”

Mentally groaning, your tongue swipes his length before placing kisses on the tip. Slowly, you begin taking in inch—by—inch. Saliva slid down his cock by the time you had it in your throat. Choking noises fed Katsuki’s already inflated ego.

“Can’t talk much with my cock down your throat, huh?” He teased, taking another sip of his whiskey. “For someone who claimed they didn’t want my cock to begin with, you sure are deep throating it rather quickly.”

You ignored his usual insults as you came up for air. You let out small coughs then go in for more, every vein being pleased with your tongue as you take it all in. Katsuki groans in pleasure as you pick up the speed. His cock is coated in your saliva as you did not slow down once to catch air. It wasn’t worth the ego boost he would feel from knowing he is too big for you.

Katsuki’s whiskey went unfinished as he could not focus on drinking it. Cum soon fills your hollow cheeks and down your throat as he releases into you. Not a drop was missed as you milked his cock. You were rewarded with a head pat.

“On the bed,” Katsuki instructs, “all fours.”

“Do I have to?” You whine. Katsuki vigorously grabs your chin, staring down into you. The room is dark, but his crimson eyes seemed to glow.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on this fucking bed and shut your Goddamn mouth.” Katsuki hisses, sending chills down your spine. You do as you are told like he taught you. Arching your back, your ass is now in his perfect viewing. Katsuki’s clothes discarded to the hardwood floor below, his dick already erected at the sight of you.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki asked, rhetorically. He spreads you open more for his personal view. “Yeah, that’s it.” He comments, overviewing all of you. One of his hands stroked his cock while the other pressed on your begging clit. You let out a soft moan, hoping he didn’t hear.

Placing his hands on your hips, he drags you closer to him. Leveling you with his cock, the tip slowly slips into your entrance then proceeding to pick up full speed. Your cunt swallows all of him, hugging his cock with each rhythmic thrust. You can feel your tight walls get stretched by his girth with each entry he makes, not even giving you time to get used to his size as he exits to repeat the same process. No matter how many times you two have sex, you will never get used to Katsuki’s length and size.

“Katsuki—“ You sob in pleasure and in pain.

“Shut it, slut. You’re going to take all of my fucking cock and like it. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you tonight.” Katsuki demands, pressing down on your spine so your ass is more perked up for him to smack periodically. Your cries and moans are muffled into the European satin sheets below. You grip onto them for support as Katsuki does not slow down once.

Your pussy pulsates with each thrust. It was about to give out on you and cum all over his cock. Though you did not want to give him the satisfaction, your cunt had other plans as it became tighter around Katsuki’s length.

“Aw, is someone going to cum?” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly, beginning to go agonizingly slow.

You lift your head to beg for sweet release. “Please let me cum, sir. Pretty please. I need to oh so badly.” You sobbed. His silence made your insides do flips. His slow strokes did not once stop and his nails dug into your thighs.

“No.” Katsuki finally denies as he knows you cannot take anymore. You gasp, your heart stopping for a split second.

“Katsuki, please.” You hiccuped. “I really need to.”

“Should’ve thought about that before throwing a tantrum today. Good girls get to cum.” Katsuki shrugged, using his long muscular arm to push your head back into the mattress. “Now shut the hell up while I fuck you senseless.”

Just like Katsuki stated, he fucked you until his high was met. Of course, he did not make it easy as he was about to bust, he would go slower to edge himself. He wanted this to be a punishment to remember. The whole time, you behaved and did not cum. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to get you to slip, you refused.

“C’mon and cum, brat. Y’know you wanna.” Katsuki would tease with immaturity. All you could say was incoherent “no thank you’s.” A soft rub on your ass was telling you that you passed his test.

Countless minutes, maybe even hours, have passed until Katsuki decided he was ready to release himself. “You can cum now.” He finally grants. You did not get to even process his words as your pussy released onto his cock. Babbles of pleasure and gratitude escaped from your lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki praises, his cock now removed from you. You whine at the hollowness you felt.

“Lay on your back.” He instructs, doing his best to keep it together. You follow his request and switch over to your back. “Play with your tits.”

Your fingers grab onto your sensitive nipples, swirling on them before giving them a nice little pinch. Katsuki stood over you, stroking his cock that is covered in his pre-cum.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” Katsuki praised once more, analyzing your lewd faces as your fingers played with your breast.

“Mm, cover me with your cum.” You encouraged, rubbing your thighs together and pushing your breast closer to one another. Katsuki became feral as cum squirted onto your chest and stomach. Just the sight of you is making Katsuki forget today ever happened.

Just like always, baby eyes.

©bakugosbratx

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bontenten · 3 years

Text

Sleeping Beauty

Pairing: Shirabu x f!reader WC: 5.6k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairy tale retelling, incest, dubcon/noncon, drugs (sleeping pill), somnophilia, abusive past relationship, implied rape (not Shirabu), panic attack, victim-blaming, hero-complex with a bit of god-complex, hints of yandere, uhh medical malpractice, Shirabu’s bangs

Summary: The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. Shirabu will do everything he can to keep you in a safe haven where you can freely dance with your prince once upon a dream.

A/N: This is a part of the whorehouse intoxicated collaboration, rest of the pieces of this toxic journey can be found here! Thank you Ria and Angel for helping beta <3 Love you both so much.

Unofficial bgm: Once Upon a Dream & Once Upon a December

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers, pulling you back by a handful of hair. You feel a blanket of pain shoot across your scalp. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

"G-get away from me!"

You thrash and kick your legs wildly hoping something will land. The moment you hear a pained grunt and feel his grip loosen, you scramble up to your feet and run. Your shoes grate against wet cement as you take off. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you will your legs forward one after another. The caw of birds seem to act as a beacon leading you through the twists and turns of the terrain.

A left turn here, two blocks straight. Past the corner store and beyond the stoplight. Three blocks. Right turn. Two Blocks. Five steps away. Four...Three..Two...Safety...

----

"In the forest, the princess played with a lot of animal friends. She grew up there in the cottage with three fairies looking after her."

Thunder claps and lightning strikes outside.

"It's so loud Kenjirou-nii!" you cry, burying yourself into Shirabu's arms.

"Shh, I'm here," Shirabu coos, rocking you back and forth until your sobs subside. "One day, the princess was singing with the songbirds..."

Shirabu begins to recount the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty to you, slowly easing your mind away from the turbulence outside.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

You shake your head and jump again when the thunder claps over the roof of the house.

"It's okay, I'm right here. Big brother’s always going to protect you."

"Like the prince protecting the princess?"

"Yes, exactly. You're always my princess, now go to sleep. I'll wake you when the sun's up.”

After a while, you calm down and slowly drift into sleep with your breaths evening out. Shirabu pulls the covers over both of you and enters sleep as well.

The winds continued to howl outside the window...the branches tapping...tapping against the window...tap...tapping…

----

Shirabu Kenjirou opens his eyes. He had just fallen asleep while studying for the third time that night. There is no use staying at the library if he is going to treat it as a hotel; he’ll be better off going home first. He yawns and stretches his neck, then packs his bags to return to his apartment. There are few students left in the building at this ungodly hour. Dark clouds loom overhead and the air is filled with the pitter patter of autumn rain hitting cement. Shirabu zips up his coat, opens his umbrella, and walks into the dark.

You would have been so frightened by this sort of weather, whimpering under your blankets, counting sheep with shaky breaths. Just like how you did in that dream of his earlier.

While growing up, Shirabu hadn't cared all that much about anything else considering he spent most of his time with his studies or playing volleyball. Although there was you, his little sister, he figured you had your little bubble anyway. But on a stormy night, you teetered down the hall after finding your parent’s room locked. Afraid and sleepy, you looked for comfort elsewhere and arrived at Shirabu’s room.

Shirabu had been most irritated and decided to shoo you out with strings of curses and profanities, but he couldn’t. The sight of your form huddled right outside his bedroom, with young eyes pleading for him took hold of a bit of humanity in Shirabu’s heart. So, he let you into his room, a safe haven, and eventually a world that was composed of only the two of you against the rest of the world.

Shirabu has known for a long time that you are the most brilliant, precious, and purest thing he’ll ever encounter. Always perfect. Forever unsullied.

There are many things that Shirabu wants to shield you from. If he can secure one more hour of innocence, one more day, one lifetime, he’ll do so without a moment of hesitation. The real world is unlike the fairy tales that you hear about while growing up.

The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. There isn’t a handsome prince the princess meets in a forest. No color changing cake. No kiss of love. In the real story, the princess is put into an endless slumber and has her virginal body taken by some unknown beast of a king, used like a rag for his carnal pleasure. When he leaves, the sleeping girl is then forgotten like trampled daisies under the hooves of horses. And she will wake to find her womb bulged with bastard life as a result of the damnation. The stretches clawing around the navel as permanent reminders that nothing will wash him from her.

The real world is dark. Horrible. Wretched. Dirty. Filled with suffering. That is why he, Shirabu Kenjirou, responds to the call to action and enters a life of service. In his heart he yearns to save and help, even if just a little, by becoming a prince with a white coat. He will not give up trying to salvage pieces of humanity he’ll touch, and in the process, carve out a haven, a little forest with a cottage, for his dearest sister to safely live in.

It has been a while since he last heard from you. Partly his own fault, really. Ever since Shirabu entered university and then medical school, the number of times you two would meet up dwindled. The hours on the phone became texts and soon after, communication vanished into mostly silence.

You are in university now, grown up and stepping into the real world, but that doesn't mean you are no longer his little sister. And because you are the one and only, Shirabu feels that he should try to do a better job as an older brother and check-in with you to see how you are doing. So, Shirabu takes out his phone that’s still on silent after studying.

27 missed calls from Sister

Shirabu pauses in his tracks and returns the call. Cars zoom by on the streets while he waits for the line to connect.

He was right, you must have been frightened.

The first call doesn’t connect, so Shirabu immediately tries the second time. You pick up on the third attempt.

"It's me, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up earlier."

"K-Kenjirou-nii..." your voice weakly translates over the speaker.

Shirabu presses the phone closer to his ear and turns up the volume. "Where are you now," he demands. "At school?"

"...Your place..." Your voice sounds so dangerously faded, like petals beaten to the ground from the rain.

Shirabu bolts. His apartment is just a couple blocks away. Around the corner just up ahead. Shirabu makes a sharp turn and splashes through a puddle.

"Stay...on the phone with me," he urges, paying no mind to his soaked shoes and socks.

You nod in understanding, as if he’ll hear your action.

"I'm almost there okay, almost."

Shirabu isn’t lying. A few moments later you hear the frantic footsteps coming closer to you. The stomping noises make your skin crawl, but the familiar face of your brother melts those fears away. He appears with his wet bangs stuck to his face and his shoulders heaving up and down. It’s him, your niichan, your prince finally here.

You scramble up and dive into his open arms, in relief that you are safe at last, as you finally allow tears to mix with rain.

"I was so scared. I missed you so much, Kenjirou-niichan," you sob into Shirabu's wet coat. "Where were you, where were you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'm sorry," Shirabu apologizes, "Let's go inside first, alright? We’re both drenched.”

----

Under the bright lights of the living room, Shirabu gets a better look at you. You catch his discerning eyes studying you up and down, visually tracing the markers of your demise. That’s when you crack.

“Kenjirou-nii...the real world, the world is a horrible place. I trusted him, you know? I trusted that man.”

Foolish and stupid, Shirabu wants to say. It’ll be easy to simply yell at you.

Shirabu is not someone without a temper. He was quite known for it back in his high-school days. The bruises, the scars that did not heal well. Shirabu reminds himself to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He’s to be a doctor. He’s to be a protector, a savior. And with the training he already has so far, Shirabu knows he’s already as good as any board certified, licensed white-robed saint. He just needs to do what he’s meant to do. Heal. Clean. Purify.

After listening to your brief tale, Shirabu tells you not to worry about anything else tonight other than take a hot shower and get some rest. He gives you a reassuring smile and sends you off to the bathroom with towels and a large t-shirt.

While you wash-up and lose your thoughts piecing together the messy events of the night, Shirabu paces in the living room after he changes his own wet clothes. Nevermind the medical books he still needs to pour over, all Shirabu wants to do right now is track down the culprit and stick a scalpel through his socket. No, that’s just too easy. That bastard deserves something much more horrible, a slow and patient torture, a death within grasp but just out of reach. As if agreeing with Shirabu’s thoughts, your phone on the coffee table lights up. Shirabu picks up the device and watches the notifications pop-up.

Shirabu sees an unknown number call you. He doesn’t pick up, letting the phone ring while he reads the numbers across the screen and commits them to memory. The phone calls stop and an onslaught of texts follow; some coherent and others far from decipherable. There are messages of broken apologies and confessions of persistent love. Requests for you to go back to him. Shirabu scoffs at the language.

Shirabu continues to wait with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. How dare the man behind that accursed number treat you, his little sister and princess, in such a foul manner. This beast who stole from you. Who is the reason behind the tainting of your now sullied innocence.

Finally after a few minutes of silence, the screen lights up with a series of curses and condemnation that show the man’s true colors. A morphed beast due to your lack of response. Shirabu scrolls through the list of notifications again with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin.

"You will pay," Shirabu seethes, taking a knife from the kitchen and ramming the sharp end straight into the device glass. The phone buzzes desperately and goes dark. You have no use for that phone anymore after all of this anyway, and the cursed number is already memorized by Shirabu for his own purposes.

----

Shirabu’s room is tidy. The two bookshelves on either side of the table are filled with books, photos, and many other accolades. That’s your older brother alright: perfect, proper, always right. Always right about everything, except one thing. The world you know really isn’t the wonderland he told you about growing up. Not at all.

You bury your face into Shirabu's pillows and will yourself to sleep. You are safe here in his bed. It’s a haven...safely tucked in a forest. You are in a forest. The trees and the breeze. Songbirds are singing.

You can dance here, twirl about...safe...free…

The trees melt.

Birds squawk and screech, scampering away…

Ink engulfs you....swallowing you whole

Falling...falling…

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

NO! you try to scream. You can’t, the weight on your chest sinks you deeper, only silence is uttered...choked…

Wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes fly open and you see him. Him. A blood curdling shriek finally tears through your throat and you thrash. "Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO!"

"It's me, hey, it's me. You're okay, you're safe." Shirabu’s eyes widen with worry at your outburst, but gives you ample space to breathe and compose yourself.

This familiar voice. It does not belong to him. It’s definitely not him.

"...Kenjirou-nii?" you ask quietly. The shadow is backlit from light coming in through the door and your vision is still fuzzy from the nightmare.

A tender hand closes around yours. "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay now. It was a bad dream, you're safe. You're safe. I'm here."

Cold sweat runs down your temples. Your breath is fast and shallow.

"Follow me, okay. Breathe in..." Shirabu takes a deep breath. You follow his voice and movement as if they are lanterns guiding you through a maze. "And breathe out. Good, you're doing great. Breathe in...and out..."

You feel your mind slowly beginning to clear with each inhale and exhale. Finally, you see Shirabu clearly again. You can smell the scent of his body wash from him. The texture of the blanket rubs against your fingertips. You’re here in Shirabu’s room. Safety. Haven.

"I'll be right back," Shirabu tells you, before leaving you for a moment and going towards the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, pops out a few white pills from a box.

"Here," he says holding out the small tablets in the middle of his palm. The off-white seems to almost glow in the dark.

"It's zolpidem, a sleeping pill I sometimes take for insomnia. It'll help you for tonight, and then we'll get you something else tomorrow that'll work better."

You look at the pill and then at Shirabu. Shirabu is someone you love and trust with all your heart. His embrace is your anchor and haven when the rest of the world has turned a blind eye. He’s your brother. One and only. There’s no reason not to trust him.

"I won't see him will I?"

"No," Shirabu affirms. The pills don't really manipulate dreams, but if reassuring you can placebo sweet dreams, then what harm really is there? He didn’t pass Ethics with top marks for nothing.

Shirabu gently presses the pill body against your lips and you part them, allowing the small object to slip through. He feeds another and you open your mouth obediently. You look at Shirabu’s eyes which are fixated on the way your lips wrap around his three fingers. Kenjirou-nii’s lashes are so nice and pretty, you think.

One gulp of water later, and you feel nothing but a cold sensation traveling down your throat and disappearing into your belly.

"It'll take about half an hour, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Shirabu says. He supports your back and gently lowers you back into the comforts of the plush mattress. Shirabu will surely carry the same attentiveness and care when he becomes a full-fledged doctor. You are sure of it. The big brother you grew up with has truly grown up and matured. But no matter how much he changes or how much you mess up, he’ll always be your big brother.

"Can you lie down next to me again, like when we were young?"

An innocent request from a patient-in-need. Shirabu complies and lies down next to you.

"I remember when we were young, I would make you dance with me to live out my princess dreams. You remember?”

Afternoons next to the stereo, crayons scattered on the floor. The smell of something baking in the kitchen. Shrieks and laughter in the living room. Even though Shirabu would be mildly annoyed at first, he found humoring your imagination to be a pleasant and soothing experience. Even he was sometimes whisked away from textbooks into a magical forest that was just you and him. The stress and burdens of everything else all seem so much lighter on his shoulders when you’re simply just there.

"Of course I remember, silly."

You hum softly and continue waiting for the medicine in your bloodstream to make its way through your body.

"Do you...remember the sleeping beauty story you would always tell me?"

"Yea?"

You pause for a moment before quietly asking, "Kenjirou-niichan, why did you lie to me?"

Shirabu does not respond and only glances over at you, eyeing your closed lids. Closed though they may be, the tiny beads of glimmering tears are beginning to emerge from between the lashes and trail down your cheeks.

"There is no prince, Kenjirou-nii...no prince for me, no one...niichan...," you mumble between your breaths. The drug is starting to take its effect, ushering your mind into another dimension far away from hurt and pain. It swallows you like a pit of ink, sinking you deeper and deeper...

----

Kenjirou-nii, why did you lie? Earlier, Shirabu felt his breath hitch when you asked that.

He calls out your name softly, brushing over your cheeks, and listening to your soft breathing for a good while to make sure you are in fact asleep. At long last, maybe this is a good dream.

A lie? No! Not a lie, Shirabu wants to tell you. For you, his dearest sister, who only ever deserves happiness, in the rawest and truest form. You are supposed to have a life of others giving gifts of love, never having to offer anything of your own.

Shirabu feels his blood boil once more at the thought of that man who stole your innocence away. The one who took your body for his own carnal pleasures. The one who dared to steal you from him, Shirabu Kenjirou. If Shirabu's nails are not kept in immaculate condition for his profession, no doubt, his grip would be drawing blood from his palms.

Those marks and scars across your skin. Shirabu traces his finger down your neckline and along your arms...

Your head turns from left to right and you manage to shrug the big collar of the t-shirt off your shoulder. Shirabu can see, under the glow of moonlight from the cleared night sky, a nasty mark. A permanent mark. And before he realizes it, his fingers are already traveling over, tracing along and testing out the patterns and bumps.

Shirabu feels his chest burn beyond the anger and fury. Guilt. Where was he all this time when you were suffering? Why hadn't you just called him then? Anguishing thoughts of his little sister writhing in pain under that beast's grasps tear Shirabu apart. Did you cry? Were you scared? All these years studying for what? For what noble purpose is Shirabu trying to pursue if he can’t even save those closest to him?

Shirabu continues to search for any other marks or discolorations that are splayed across your skin like a map. It is what it is now. But Shirabu still has his calling. He is a man who answers to a life of service and healing: a prince in a white coat. No matter what happens, even if you’re tainted now, you’ll still be his little sister.

Even if your naivety and stupidity got you into the mess in the first place. Of course, why didn’t you listen to your brother’s warnings and stay in a safe haven like a good girl? Stay in your room and study for your future like a good student? Like him? Why did you think running off for fun, enjoying “youth and freedom” like the other degenerates would be a good idea?

Shirabu grits his teeth. Look at you now, damaged and past the point of no return, used. Injured and ill. Still, he needs to get the full story first, and see where else you might possibly be hurt. A complete diagnosis needs to come first. After the messages from the man, Shirabu is all the more certain that there are more clues left, and he needs evidence. He needs to know. The comforter is pulled away and careful hands examine the lines of your palms.

Once upon a time, you grabbed Shirabu’s hand and tried to use the methods of schoolyard palm-reading on him. You even exclaimed, “Kenjirou-niichan, this line means you’ll live a long life! And we can be together forever because my life line is really long too!”

Shirabu smiles at the memory and presses a kiss to the center of your palm. It must have been so painful, how could you have possibly endured? But you did and you survived. You are so brave.

Probing fingertips trace across your collarbone and push the fabric of the large t-shirt up to reveal your torso. Shirabu blinks, realizing that this is now the body of a fully matured woman. You take a deep breath in your sleep from the cold air running across your exposed breasts. Shirabu can see the nipples perk up from the chill and hesitantly touches the bud with a hint of academic curiosity.

“Mmm, that tickles...” you giggle softly. Your hand pushes Shirabu's off and scratches the same spot he just traced, fondling your own breast briefly before letting go and continuing to sleep. Even grown up now, still the same adorable little sister.

Shirabu lets himself tease your nipples and knead the soft flesh of your breasts, toying around and watching your cute little expressions. Sometimes you’ll respond again and paw the tickling hands away. It’s fun, like playing a little game.

But when he lets his eyes wander down, Shirabu’s eyes narrow. Below the breasts, on either side of the waist, Shirabu sees damning marks of deep purple turning into a disgusting yellow. Like cursed claw marks. Shirabu hesitantly presses on the bruise, watching the color transform under his touch. He stops immediately when you begin to whine in pain. Carefully, Shirabu presses a kiss on these markings too, just like any other little injury you sustained in the past. A kiss so the pain flies away.

Foolish, foolish girl. Naive princess. Why did you let this happen to yourself? In the future, don’t run anymore. Stay here where it’s safe.

There is just one place left Shirabu did not examine yet, a hidden spot that is supposed to be locked away that someone else discovered. Shirabu looks down at the dark lace panties obstructing his view like gates of a castle. It’s a poor “keep out” message; if anything it entices anyone who sees it to come in. A tempting invitation to see what’s behind.

Shirabu allows his clean fingers to easily slip through and begin a thorough investigation through the soft folds of flesh. His fingertips dip into a pool of wetness. He furrows his brows. When did this happen?

Why are you wet? His eyes focus on your sleeping face that still has a relaxed smile. What are you dreaming about that makes your body like this? Shirabu drags the fingers covered with your slick to circle your clit. In response your thighs clamp and twitch. So sensitive, still inexperienced, even if you’re sullied.

Shirabu slides the soaked panties off and pushes your thighs apart so he can continue his examination. That person must have touched this area too, his fingers have been here, and then…plunged his fingers into you like so. Your body trembles as Shirabu’s two fingers probe in, fully examining your inner anatomy. Soft, warm muscles clamp tightly around his digits and try to stop them from entering further. It’s for your good and his knowledge. He pushes deeper into you, dragging alongside the bumps and ridges of your walls.

You whine loudly and arch your back when Shirabu’s fingers find a sweet spot. Your head shifts on the fluffy pillows.

“Did you like that? Did that feel good?” Shirabu asks, probing your hole once more. As if in agreement, your body twitches again and your hips automatically roll against the palm, pressing your sensitive clit into the surface. Your breathy sighs are soft and sweet, unlike any other sound Shirabu has heard from you. It’s like a spell that enchants Shirabu and beckons for him. He shudders as he feels his cock responding to each noise coming out from between your lips.

It’s good, something feels so good. Under the sunlight, you feel warmth pooling throughout your body. There are tingles in the soles of your feet, like grass tickling skin while running around barefoot. Your body feels so light and relaxed. It’s warm and you’re not in this forest alone. The shape of a prince appears. You know he’s a prince because his voice is gentle and his touch feels safe.

If this feels good, it’s only because this is an act of love. If this makes you happy, it’s because it’s love. If it’s love, it’ll fill the empty pools of hurt. And if you’ll be whole again, you’ll heal. Shirabu makes up his mind and caresses your cheeks tenderly, So beautiful. Always beautiful. A sleeping beauty. His hand reaches to the waistband of his pants.

The prince rests his hand on your hips and excitement jolts through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile back.

Shirabu freezes the moment he feels your arms wave into the air and reach for him. The sneaky fingers run across his skin.

"Dance..with me," you slur before falling back into silence.

The alarm washes away when he confirms you are still sound asleep.

"Are you dreaming of your prince?" Shirabu asks while tearing open a condom packet. Medical safety. He should have worn gloves earlier too, if he wasn’t already too entranced. "Dancing? Then I'll dance with you."

Forever. I'll be your prince, my sweet darling.

Shirabu runs the length of his hardened cock along your glistening slit. Rather than take, rather than pillage and steal...Shirabu will give. Replace the gross markers of pain with soft fleeting kisses. Replace the innocence stolen with love given unconditionally. Shirabu will give you all the love you deserve and more.

Shirabu’s fingers weave into your delicate ones, the palms join together, and your fingertips automatically lock with your niichan’s. It’s the starting position for a waltz in the forest, once upon a dream.

The man takes the initiation, the leading step. Shirabu closes the gap, sinking his length into your sweet embrace in a fluid and wet squelch. You respond, digging your nails and tightening your grip on his hands. Your other arm hugs around your partner, your niichan, pulling his body close against yours. Your blank eyes flutter open briefly to look straight at the shadow of Shirabu. Of course, you don’t see anything, you’re actually in a warm forest shyly gazing at your prince. Shirabu almost thinks that he woke you up, but you only let out a quiet moan before your body relaxes again.

Shirabu groans and rests his cock in your warm and tight embrace. This is the way it should be, how it ought to be done. No one else can lead you in this dance the way he can. The way he will. This is not the self-fulfilling king stealing the princess’s virginal body for his own pleasure. This is the loving prince who loves and gives selflessly. Your big brother knows you the best, knows how you’ll respond, knows how you’ll like it. Shirabu slowly draws himself out and thrusts back in.

The prince presses himself so close to you, and you inhale sharply. During the waltz, you always have to maintain body contact with your partner. You feel his breath on your cheeks, and you’re sure he can feel your hammering heartbeat. The intimacy builds in the tender but secure hold. The steps are quick but the movements are not violent. It’s just enough that the heat stirring in your core spreads throughout your body.

Breaths become more labored and raspy into the act. Shirabu sees your face morph into bliss as he continues his pace and rocks his hips into you. His own brows furrow as Shirabu feels his grip over rationality falling apart with each thrust. Each flutter of your walls against him only invites him to come in deeper, farther. Harder.

“...K-Kenjirou-nii...,” you softly cry out.

Your honeyed voice is a thick syrup trapping Shirabu, coaxing him. It’s like a melody inviting a weary traveler, a lost prince, in for rest. Your voice, your body, it’s tantalizing.

"Too good," Shirabu groans to himself. Why is it so good? You, his little sister, how? He looks down towards where he sees his cock, covered with your fluids, disappear into you. The thin latex barrier doesn’t stop how close the two of you are, Shirabu feels each clench and spasm around him. “My little sister, I didn’t know…”

Shirabu can now understand just why that man did all that to you. Why that man wants to keep you by his side. Why he incessantly sends messages and tries to manipulate you back into their world.

It’s the only explanation, really, when you don’t even know how bewitching your body is. How enticing your voice is. Anyone would want to keep it as their own. Your warmth, your sweet, sweet hole. This cunt of yours is itself a safe haven. And Shirabu feels like he’s the one being made whole from you. It’s all because of you.

Each moan from you. Those gentle mewling cries, a witch’s spell, an incantation for addiction. That man is trying to manipulate you? How? When your whole existence manipulates everyone first, drawing them all in with the image of your unsullied purity.

Shirabu feels his impending release around the edge. His pace quickens and his thrusts meet with each of your twisting squirms. Your head tosses side-to-side on the pillow as your sleepy climax washes through.

Spin. Faster and faster in the forested ballroom. Twirl for the finale. You feel a dizzying jolt as the prince dips your body back. It’s a whirlwind of love. In your dream, the sunshine is so warm and growing so much hotter. It feels like you’re floating. So light and free. That prickling tickle in your feet is growing stronger until little fireworks set off across every corner of your body, filling you completely. The forest melts as the colors blend together in a dreamy painting.

Euphoria, as Shirabu finishes spectacularly, clutching your sleeping body close to him in a messy ending pose. The final winds of the dead storm outside sound like a rumbling applause for this sinful waltz. He can hear his own pants and your shaky breaths mix into a fading duet. Shirabu lets himself bask for a moment, resting, entangled with you.

Everything makes sense now. He completely understands why the bastard king forces himself onto Sleeping Beauty. He completely understands why your allure is much too exquisite to pass on. Shirabu pulls out and carefully removes the condom, collecting the white essence you bewitched out from him into a little package with a tie. Dangerous little princess, that you are.

Even though Shirabu now fully understands the complete story after careful examination, there are still a few lines Shirabu will draw. One, that man has still committed a very grave sin, being the first to sample your purity, stealing that away from Shirabu? Damaging your flesh and skin? Unacceptable, he thinks as he tosses the used condom into the waste bin. A complete low-life who doesn’t know how to cherish. Punishment will be due.

Shirabu returns to the bed where your unconscious body is still sprawled between bunched sheets. His blank eyes study your spread legs and puffy cunt that’s still quivering every now and then. He taps his index finger against your sensitive clit. As if it is a magic button, your body briefly trembles on command. As if you are ready to enchant another unsuspecting traveler into your safe little haven. A little bit of fluid leaks out from your hole, presenting itself seductively. Welcome.

Shirabu scoffs. And number two, you’ll be better off staying here with himself, your big brother. You’ll be safe here with a prince who knows best how to love you right, and give you the world. This is the way it should be; before you completely lose yourself into degeneracy and invite just about anyone into you.

Those sleeping pills will be insufficient for the long-run. A different concoction while you are still healing from your terrible trauma will be needed. A cocktail of sorts that will target different needs. Yes. Shirabu files that thought away, putting it towards the top of his to-do list. There’s so many things he has to take care of. Too much pain in this world waiting for him to don white robes and be out there.

“But you’ll always come first on niichan’s list,” Shirabu whispers, slipping your panties back on and pulling the comforters over your body. He’ll never allow you to be sullied again. You’ll stay here in this safe haven, like a little cottage tucked away in the forest. Dream here. Find happiness with the only prince you need.

The first rays of dawn begin to brighten the sky, shooing away the cloak of night. The first songs from the birds announce the arrival of a new day. The morning light filters through the windows of the room, spilling over onto the bed and your quiet, unmoving form.

Time to wake up now, sleeping beauty.

#shirabu smut #shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjiro x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #tw:incest #tw somnophilia #tw yandere #tw drugging #tw dubcon #tw noncon #the intoxicated collab #emi.freshtea #🍵.shirabu

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

Text

Invasive Species

Pairing: Hawks x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Yandere, Dubious Non/Con, Stalking, Possessive Actions

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N:This is a part of the bnharem pen pals collab that can be found here! Please check out everyone else’s amazing work for this very unique smutty collaboration.

The noise was so faint, a gentle peck against the glass, the sound muffled by the mild summer breeze, that you hadn’t heard it. And so, the paper became lifeless, drifting down onto the floor to rest until you found it. You were startled when you saw it—a blood red feather, with a crisp, folded note tied to it, lying in your floor, the feather ruffling in the wind from the open window. Your heart pounded in your chest. You had seen feathers like that before, felt them against your skin and in your hair as a winged hero carried you to safety from a burning building just yesterday. But you’d been one of many, he saved so many people, yet he left a feather for you?

You’ll always be safe with me around.

–Hawks

You smiled at his writing, finding it to be much neater and prettier than you expected from a man in his twenties. What a kind, considerate hero to send you such an endearing promise. No wonder he topped the popularity polls, you mused, sitting on your bed and re-reading the little note. You tapped the feather against your lips, twirling it between your fingers. You remembered how he was able to control the nimble things, sending feathers zipping across the sky to pull people by their collars and the back of their shirts to safety. Surely he would want it back, right? You felt it twitch within your hand as if it could read your mind.

Quickly, you searched your desk, ripping at a piece of paper to create a slip similar to the size of his note. You took a breath before writing, not wanting your handwriting to seem unsteady or nervous. You wondered if anyone ever wrote him back, or if people kept his feathers like trophies.

Thank you, Hawks. I’m grateful that someone will be watching after me.

You signed your name in the bottom corner.

The crimson feather darted away when you placed it on your window sill, jumping like it was alive. It carried your note back to waiting hands and a cheeky smile, to a man only a few rooftops away. Avian eyes narrowed and darkened at your innocent words.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but your message was an invitation to a very dangerous game.

The next little letter came about a week later, long after the sun had set and your eyes were heavy. The quill against the glass spooked you, the sound reminiscent of sharp nails tapping to get your attention. You opened the window and the feather fluttered past your cheek, landing perfectly in the middle of your desk like it belonged there. You rubbed your eyes as you sat down to read it, flicking on the dim light that you had just turned off to go to sleep.

You couldn’t help the way you smiled when you saw that this letter was personally addressed to you.

Sorry for making you wait so long. I’m not used to writing letters. But your handwriting is so pretty, I thought I could implore you for another? Please tell me something about you.

–Hawks

You blinked at the paper, thumbs crinkling the edges. There was something about the letter that made your heart thump a little harder in your chest, blood racing in your veins. You realized that you were not one of many to receive an assuring note from the hero; no, you had been sought out by him, plucked and singled out of the crowd. Hawks had remembered you in particular. A small bit of adrenaline kicked into your system as you picked up your pen.

This is going to sound like I’m trying to be sweet on you, but I’ve actually always loved birds. My favorite are the pretty red song birds that I hear outside my windows in the evening.

There was a compulsion for you to keep this response letter a little longer. You mulled it over, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. You weren’t lying, those cute little song birds did bring you joy, but there was a tinge in your heart to impress him, to make him smile as he read your letter.

And as quick as the feather flew in, it flew away, a red streak across the star speckled sky. You finally curled up in bed, a concoction of excitement and content brewing in your chest. You held your pillow a little closer, dreaming of the brush of soft wings against your skin.

But those wings were dark, casting shadows in the moonlight, now only a single rooftop away from you. Hawks held your letter in his hand, golden gaze locked onto the color of your curtains. He wondered if you’d ever become privy enough to shut them.

He read your words over and over again, smiling at how coy you were. He knew you were clever, but he didn’t expect you to be so daring. He brushed his hair behind his ear, pressing the small scrap of paper to his nose, trying to get a hint of the sweetness he had smelled in your hair when he plucked you from that building. You were so darling in his arms; he loved how you clung to him, small hands around his neck like you would collapse without him, even when he had you safe on the ground.

The letter in his hand felt like the key into your life, and all too quickly he found himself writing back to you. And in the depths of the night, this particular letter and feather were hand delivered by the pretty bird from outside your window, though you’d never know it.

___________________________________________________________

You found the letter tucked neatly into the corner of your window, the one closest to your bed. It had been the first thing your eyes focused on as you awoke, the crimson barbs of the feather gleaming in the early morning light. You laid in the comfort of your warm bed for a few moments just gazing at the sight, sleepy mind trying to piece together how and why the winged hero had taken an interest in you. He was so handsome, so popular, so tantalizing in a curious way.

The summer breeze was warm even so early in the day. You left the window open to allow a current of fresh air in, settling back into your pillows as you unfolded the note.

I suppose liking birds is something we have in common. Those pretty red song birds outside your window are actually cardinals…an invasive species in Japan, but pretty nonetheless.

P.S. Perhaps I could soon become your favorite red bird.

–Hawks

You read it a few times, worrying your lip as your eyes raked over every word. There was something to be read between the lines, only you worried you weren’t finding the hidden meaning. Why mention that the birds were invasive species? It made them sound impish and not as lovely knowing they weren’t really supposed to be there. Yet their morning calls were beautiful, melodic, a comfort to your ears from the open window. And was Hawks…flirting with you? His post script seemed so playful and nonchalant, and reading it had your cheeks turning pink.

You busied yourself with your morning routine as you debated how to reply. You didn’t know Hawks, you didn’t even know how he found out where you lived, and yet he was flirting with you so offhandedly, like he expected you to return his dalliances. Had he come early this morning before starting his hero work? Or did he work at night, and sent a feather before returning home? There was so little that you knew about him that it made you nervous to be stepping into such an unknown situation, but surely it didn’t mean much to him. You were a little nobody; he was the number two hero.

Even still, in a way, it felt so romantic, finding hand written letters from him, like you were out of time, floating in a midsummer bliss. But it also felt disquieting, like you were stepping out into a vast, unknown ocean.

You sat down to write to him before you left to begin your day. The feather in your hand was so light, so soft, and you gently stroked your thumb over the barbs, watching them split apart and then find one another again. The hollow shaft seemed to quake in response. You were reminded of how every feather appeared to be alive, controlled by their far-off master. They were so sensitive to every touch, every gust of wind. You dipped your finger against the edge, watching the alluring color bleed against your skin.

Can you feel what your feathers feel, Hawks?

And you set the feather free once again, having to block the sun from your eyes as you watched it dance away, note dangling from a long forgotten ribbon you had found in your drawer.

But soon, you forgot about it, carried away by the daily musings of your life.

______________________________________________________________

As for Hawks, he thought about it all day, carried your little note in his pocket as he attended to his heroic duties across the city. The image of your window, of your little home where it was tucked away, always remained in the back of his mind. He was itching to go back to the rooftop from where he watched you; he wanted to see your reaction as you opened his letter, watch you ponder how to respond. He was quickly becoming addicted to you, to watching you when you least expected it.

He had perfectly crafted his response by the end of his day, broad wings hurrying him to his favorite resting spot. Your city apartment was so high up, no one from below could dream of looking up to see you. But he could see you, he had scouted the best from which to watch you. He was just high enough where you couldn’t peer back at him, the perfect perch for a predator to watch his prey. From the neighboring rooftop he could see the entirety of your bedroom. It was like a painting on the wall of a museum, wonderfully on display for him to admire, especially when you came home.

He rested his cheek in his palm as he watched you come in your bedroom door. He could practically hear you sigh as you dropped your bag, stretching your arms above your head to rid yourself of the small tensions your day had brought you. And this was his favorite part—you quickly shimmied out of your pants, a little dance as you bounced back and forth on your heels, pulling one leg up and then the other. You then bent over and pulled your favorite pair of soft shorts from the floor, having unceremoniously dropped them there the night before. You looked so good in those, he mused, the cozy fabric stretched so snugly upon your hips, curving just right across your backside.

He waited for you to get comfortable, then plucked a feather from his wings, tying his note to it with the ribbon you’d sent out this morning. He grinned at how you jumped when the feather flew through the crack in your window. He made a little show of having it swirl around you before landing it on your desk.

I can feel everything that my feathers touch—the wind, water, sound vibrations, they’re a part of me. You should give this one a kiss before you send it back.

The name’s Keigo, by the way. Takami Keigo.

Did you always blush like that when you opened his letters? He watched you stand up and pace around, thumb between your pretty lips, lost in thought. Soon you grabbed the note again, plopping on the edge of your bed to read it over. Your legs crossed and uncrossed, a smile finally pulling at your cheeks. He watched with delight as you picked up the feather, tingles immediately spreading across his skin at the feel of your fingers.

He groaned as you brushed your fingertips over the barbs. He pulled at his tinted eyewear, bringing them to rest upon his head so he could watch you more closely. A lock of hair twisted around his finger as he anxiously waited for you to do as he asked, to kiss his feather, to let him have a fleeting moment where he felt the ghost of your lips upon his skin.

But you didn’t, you just kept stroking the long red feather, teasing him. His brows furrowed as you stopped, watching you sit the feather back on your desk, along with his note. How could you…how could you not respond to him right away? Why not give him what he desired?

Hawks watched in disbelief as you sauntered out of your bedroom into another part of your little home.

He waited for what felt like hours for you to come back. He should’ve left when the sun went down, he chided himself, bringing his wings closer to his body. Autumn was in the wind. He had almost left, was even picking himself up and shoving his hands into his pockets when your room lit up like a beacon calling him back. So he settled back into his spot, golden eyes watching your every move.

His breath caught in his throat when you began to shed your clothes—all of them. He’d watched you for over a week now, and finally you were fully naked before him. You looked ethereal with the dim light of your room spilling over your curves, every single line of your body on display. He found himself sitting up straighter, perched on the balls of his feet like at any moment he was going to leap into your arms.

Were you…? Oh fuck, you were walking to your desk, sitting down and taking a pen into your hand. Instantly he was hard, fingers encircling his cock with a death grip as you picked up the feather, his feather, and admired it for a moment. He could feel your breath blowing against the soft barbs, the warmth spreading over him like a blanket from the breeze. But you sat it down, electing to instead write him back, treating him to the lovely sight of your naked back arched over your desk, the elegant sinews of your shoulders on exhibit.

And then you were in your window, your naked body so temptingly close. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to feel the weight of your breasts within his palms.

As soon as he felt the wind blowing against the feather, he pulled it back to him. He always knew when it was your feather returning to him, even when he couldn’t see it. He could sense the heft of the paper tied to it, pulling at the feather like it wanted to sink to the ground. He even recognized the tenderness in your touch, felt how you always twisted the feather between your fingers.

You’re cheeky, Keigo. A kiss? I hardly know you. Maybe one day.

He scoffed at your words, folding the note back into its creases. Your light flickered off, the moonlight the only illumination for him to gaze into your little world. He watched you climb onto your bed, expecting you to curl up in your favorite spot and drift away into your dreams.

He was very happily mistaken.

Your hands were on your body, one cupping your breast, the other slipping into your mouth. He stroked his cock through his pants at the sight, eyes wide and ravenous as he watched the scene unfold before him. You were slow, thorough, taking your time running your hand over your curves, twisting at your nipples. Your fingers left your mouth and traveled south, to another pair of lips he had yet to see. You spread your legs, teasing yourself as your head dipped back against the pillow.

Hawks was desperately moving his head, angling his body to try to see what sweetness was waiting for him between your legs. But your thigh was in the way, blocking his view, and he huffed indignantly as he unzipped his cargo pants. His cock was achingly hot as he released it, the night air bringing a refreshing chill to his scorching skin. He wrapped his hand a little too firmly around himself, closing his eyes for only a brief moment to imagine how tight you’d be around his cock.

Your face was awash with pleasure, lips hanging open. He silently vowed to etch that look upon your face himself.He watched you intently, memorizing every movement, every place that you touched yourself. He could’ve observed you for hours, if it wasn’t for his unrelenting need to orgasm. He pumped himself to the paces you set, alternating between fast and slow, wanting to cum the moment you did. But the moment he saw your back arch, his keen hearing picking up on a high pitched moan through the window, he lost control, spilling himself all over his hand and down the front of his shirt, dripping onto his pants.

He’d been so caught up in his own ecstasy that he missed yours. He only saw you in the afterglow, your curves sinking into the mattress as sleep overcame you.

He wrote you a quick letter, leaving it wedged against your window sill. He took a moment to admire you up close, hand pressing to the glass to steady the silent flapping of his wings.

___________________________________________________________

But I know you.

There was no signature to the note, only large fingerprints upon your window.

They were like little specters, ghastly against the morning dew.

Your stomach dropped at the sight, dread bubbling to the surface. He had hand delivered this note, had been at your window, had seen you at some time in the night. You pulled your sheets to your chest, recalling that you’d fallen asleep on your comforter naked last night, only waking in the early hours of dawn to finally crawl under the covers. Had he seen you? Is that what he meant?

He reminded you of Hermes, a winged protector of humans, but a trickster god nonetheless, flittering around the country with a bright smile and witty banter, but perhaps something darker in his heart. Maybe he was worse than Hermes, maybe more dreadful, more sinful. For a while there had been something nagging at you, pulling at the strings of your intuition and whispering danger. But now…now that feeling had blossomed into fear.

You decided you had indulged the winged hero enough. There was no need to reply. Any romance you had felt from the actions withered away, dying out like a flower left in the sun.

You started to close your curtains when you came home most days, just in case.

Weeks went by, and autumn came. The cardinals stopped singing, with no other red feathers or letters in sight.

But sometimes you could hear rustling outside, see familiar shadows pass by.

He was on your television screen, too, newsfeeds obsessed with the most popular hero. He was always being praised for saving more people, for helping rescue and clean up after a disaster. He was darling on the screen, blonde hair always slightly a mess from flying. He seemed so handsome, so harmless, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He was something wicked, something enticing, and you hated that you had thought about him every day since his last letter.

The morning you found his note, you had thrown the paper in the trash, and thrown the feather back out the window. But by evening, it had fluttered back, red and sweet like a rose growing against the glass. You’d left it there, hoping the wind would take it away, but days went by and it was still hanging on, a reminder of his presence. A storm was on the horizon when you relented and took the feather in. There was something inside of you that couldn’t bear to see the cherry colored barbs wilt in the rain.

You tucked it away in your desk drawer, not as a reminder, but to just to get it out of sight. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Some of your nights were restless, plagued with thoughts of him, of Keigo Takami peeking into your window, of his plush wings against your skin.

____________________________________________________________

It was after an especially long, grueling day, that you gave in to your repressed thoughts.

You stood at the foot of your bed, ready to climb in, when some unknown force had you turning on your heels. It was like your hands had a mind of their own, pulling open the drawer and plucking the crimson feather from its resting place. You twirled it before you, nostalgia creeping across your skin as you remembered how the feathers used to look in the summer sky.

The feather felt like red silk upon your lips when you kissed it. You wondered if he could still feel it, after all these months.

You laughed at the inane thought, kicking off your shorts as you finally found your way into bed. You gazed up at the ceiling, counting the moonbeams that had slithered in through the cracks in the curtains. You hadn’t closed them all the way, but you rarely did anymore.

You sighed, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself somewhere else. Your fingers drifted down to the hem of your underwear, toying with the edges. You thought of strong arms around you, thick hands in place of your own. You thought of a new hero you had read about earlier, some young, recently graduated young buck from a hero program. You bit into your lip as you tried to recall his name. All you could remember were wild plumes of purple hair, which looked so luscious and soft in the online videos. You tried to imagine him, or someone like him, at least, pressing themselves between your legs.

Your fingers rubbed lazy circles on your clit, warming your body up. But you couldn’t stay focused on one thought, the problems of your day tiptoeing back into your conscious as you tried to pleasure yourself. Your other hand slipped under your big t-shirt, tugging rather roughly at your nipple as you tried to bring yourself back into a different headspace. You increased the speed of your fingers, only to find yourself panting in dissatisfaction at your actions.

“Fuck,” you called in frustration to the darkness.

“Seems like you need some help, little bird.”

You had never expected the darkness to call back.

Your whole body stilled, going completely numb as you opened your eyes.

Hawks stood near your desk, absentmindedly fiddling with the feather you’d left on its surface. The window was open, curtains billowing and brushing against dark wings that eclipsed the moonlight. You felt like the shadows his wings cast were smothering you, sinking around your lungs like an inky vice, keeping your voice trapped within your chest.

He had the audacity to smile at you. His hands were deep in his pockets, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked haphazardly thrown upon his shoulders. You wanted to run away, but you felt glued to the bed, beguiled by smoldering golden eyes as he approached.

“I know what you like, you know. Watched you do it so many times now.”

You braced yourself against the bed, the sheets slipping down as you crawled back, gaze transfixed on the predator placing his knees on the downy comforter. He was so quick, grabbing your leg and pulling you towards him. His smile never wavered as he pressed a wet kiss to your ankle, tongue sneaking out to catch a taste of your skin. You whimpered at his words, tongue too heavy in your mouth to form ones of your own.

“Cat got your tongue? Come on, I want to hear that pretty voice. Say the magic word, and I’ll be happy to help you out.”

It was like you were engulfed by his presence. The air smelled like him as he spread his wings, gently ruffling them before settling them back down to his sides. He smelled like rain, felt like a raging storm from above you, all dark clouds and lightning as his quick fingers started to move up your calves, keeping your legs spread to accommodate him upon the bed.

“N-no.”

Your voice was weak, just a hot gasp of breath into the room.

“You sure about that, baby? I promise I know exactly how to touch you.”

To prove his point, a hurried hand wrapped around your hip, thumb slipping under the fabric of your underwear to skim across your hip bone. You shuttered, his touch was too warm, feeling like he was burning his thumbprint into your skin. But it felt good, the pressure behind the digit so firm, making you feel so real against your body’s borders, feel alive at the jolt of pleasure that ran down your spine.

But with his body hovering above yours, it felt like there was a heavy weight falling onto your chest, pushing you down, down, down, deep into the mattress and holding you hostage. You wanted to push him away, to scream, to pull at his wings until it hurt him. But you were quiet, frozen in place, entranced by golden curls in the moonlight. And he knew it too.

“I’m going to show you everything I’ve learned by watching you,” his head dipped down, smile hanging just above your face, “and show you a few new things I know you’ll love.”

“Hawks,” you breathed out, hands finally moving and finding purchase against his chest. You wanted your tone to sound berating, angry, but instead your voice sounded pleading.

The brush of his lips against yours was so delicate, a penumbra against supple flesh.

“Keigo,” he corrected, the syllables of his name pressing into your lips.

He drank you in with a heavy groan, kissing you like a man starved for touch. You couldn’t close your eyes, too shocked at the sudden intrusion. Just moments ago you were dreaming of a man between your legs, and now one was here, he was real, eyes shut as he moved his lips against yours. Your sight was blurred by forming tears, your vision focused on the black lines that adorned his eyes. They were so beautiful, so stark against his soft skin, a reminder of how truly avian he was; a reminder of his primordial instincts.

The hand on your hip drew your body up into his, fingers now gripping at your ass with bruising strength. Your mouth fell agape at the stinging pain of his roughness, allowing his hot tongue to slip between your lips. You fisted his shirt, trying to push him away, only to be met with lithe muscles straining underneath the fabric. You were reminded that he might be slender, but he was still a trained fighter, the number two hero, and he could do anything he liked to you.

He was brash, eager, desperate to finally touch you. His kiss was sloppy and wet, full of hearty groans as his hips bucked against your own. Your eyes finally shut, mind trying to picture someone else above you, someone who didn’t stalk you, scare you, but yet you could only imagine him. His presence was suffocating, his smell saccharine, the brush of his fluttering wings addictive.

“I knew you kept my feather,” he panted against your lips, his head dipping to your neck where he pressed open mouthed kisses to your beating pulse, “I knew you’d call out for me.”

“Hawks, no, that’s not what I was—”

He forcefully sucked at your neck, the sharp pain silencing you.

“Keigo,” he reprimanded against your skin, “come on, you didn’t miss me? Not even a little?”

“How can I miss you when I know you’re always there?”

He chuckled, sitting back and plucking your hands from their tight grip against his shirt. He held a wrist in each hand, settling them on either side of your face, pinning you down under his strong arms.

“I wanted to write you so many more letters, but I was worried that you’d throw them away.”

“I would have.” You sneered, wiggling in his grip.

“But why? I told you that you’d always be safe with me around, little bird.”

“You’re stalking me, Hawks—”

The grip on your wrists tightened, his thick fingers crushing the delicate bones, a warning.

“I’m watching over you.”

He gradually removed his hands from your wrists, the movement slow, steady, his keen eyes watching to see if you would react. Your skin was throbbing, bones aching from his relentless grasp. You didn’t move.

“And look at how I found you, baby, so desperate for help.”

His fingers pressed between your legs, rubbing against your clothed sex. Pleasure ran through your veins like a shock wave, your legs instinctively closing around his forearm. He sat back on his knees, marveling over how your body reacted to such a simple touch. He moved a little faster, a little harder, middle finger pressed firmly against your slit. He daringly pressed in, the fabric of your underwear keeling at his actions, sinking inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already, is this all for me?”

You could only shake your head no, too stunned to open your mouth to speak. He smirked, running his other hand through his hair, whistling at the vexing sight before him. For so many nights he’d wanted to be right here, in your bed, your thighs spread across his own as he touched you, toyed with you, proved to you that he could please you.

He kept his hand on your pussy, using the other to lift up your shirt, fingers searing across your belly. They kept moving upwards, pushing your shirt away to reveal your breasts. He licked his lips at the sight, fingers itching to pull at your nipples.

“Say the magic word,” his voice was lower now, more sinister, “say it, and I’ll touch you how you like.”

Did you even have a choice?

His hands were perfectly still, like he was a man stopped in time. You blinked at him, once, twice, wondering how something so beautiful could be so nefarious. He looked like a fallen angel, like his feathers had been dipped in blood and he was going to paint you with them. Your heart rate slowed, any adrenaline you had to fight beginning to flush from your veins. Your pussy was aching, the tip of his finger stretching you just enough to make you want more.

“Please.”

His eyes snapped to you, black pupils narrowed.

“A little louder,” he commanded, “and say my name.”

You swallowed, tongue wetting your lips. Your fingers dug into the sheets, still next to your face where he had left them. You were sweating, overcome with the feeling of your naked chest heaving with shaky breaths.

“Please…Keigo.”

The dam broke, sensations flooding over you as he moved freely over your body. Your shirt was gone in an instant, your torso thumping back to the bed before you even realized he had ripped the material over your head. His shirt was gone, too, being shimmied over his wings and tossed into the floor. He was so quick, nimble fingers ridding you of your panties in the blink of an eye. And then he was on you, two fingers sunk deep into your pussy before you could even think to breathe.

You cried out, body arching as he pumped the digits into you at high velocity, your slick walls clenching. You felt his flaxen hair tickle your chest as his warm mouth sucked one of your nipples into the wet cavern, tongue shamelessly flicking over the hardening bud. Fuck, he felt so good, so warm, so real against your body, so much better than your own hands.

His teeth pulled at your nipple, white hot heat surging through your body in response.

“Keigo!” You scolded, but your voice was so high pitched, so laden with lust, that he mistook it for praise.

He continued to nip at your breast, fingers still plunging in and out of your pussy, the sounds lewd to your ears. His pace was wild and excited, making your skin tingle from all the attention. He sucked at your nipple, releasing the bud with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting his flushed lips to your darkening skin. He nuzzled his face to the underside of your breast, leaving you gasping as he sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, nose pressing into the fleshy mound.

His fingers slowed as he sat back to look over your writhing body. He smirked, curling his fingers just right, pads brushing against the soft, flat place buried deep inside of you.

His free hand encircled your jaw, pursing your lips.

“Watch me, little bird.”

You nodded in his grip, keeping your eyes on his as he came to lay between your thighs. He draped one leg across his shoulder, allowing him to angle his head as he pressed a kiss to your clit. You moaned wantonly, worrying your lip between your teeth as you watched him. He was smiling at you, warm golden eyes hypnotizing you to keep observing. He was ready to put on a show, to let you see how observant he was, how he knew your body like the back of his hand without ever touching you before now.

The way he licked at your clit was intoxicating, little hot swirls with the tip, then heavy strokes with a flat tongue, alternating just how you liked. That sizzling coil inside your belly began to tighten. He was moaning against your wet flesh, the vibrations tingling down your pussy lips. He was enjoying himself, savoring you like an expensive meal he’d waited ages to try. His fingers kept in pace with his mouth, stroking you just right, strumming you like the devil would his fiddle within his hands.

He then employed a trick he learned from watching you. With his other hand, he spread your labia, exposing your sensitive clit even more to his hungry mouth. You shivered at the onslaught of pleasure, body so hot you felt like you could burst into flames, melt into the bed, die a little death. You whimpered, still wholly spellbound by the vision between your legs. Hawks’ wings seemed to shutter with every moan you made, the red plumage highly attuned to every sound, every move of your body.

Every touch, every lick, was so sinful and wicked. You tried to remind yourself that you didn’t want this, that Hawks was dangerous, that he had stalked you for weeks and could only tempt you so expertly because he watched you through your windows. But he was so beautiful, so devilishly divine between your legs, hot tongue swirling figure eights against your clit, fingers beckoning you to come undone.

“You like this.” He said it between long licks, fingers beginning a new, more ruthless pace inside of you.

A string of curses left your lips, your thighs beginning to quiver against his shoulders.

“No, no, please no,” you said the words to yourself, the pleasure he was creating becoming unbearable between your legs. He continued to lap against your folds, fingers spreading you wider, keeping you open and unprotected for him. He knew you were close, could feel your walls tightening. He added a third finger just to be cruel, to watch you shrink against the sheets as your back arched for him.

“Cum on my face, baby, I know you’ve thought about it before.”

To your shame, you absolutely shattered around him at his words, your pussy spasming, your orgasm flooding all of your senses. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were blissfully pinned down by his feathers, asphyxiated by his overbearing presence within your room, within your body. He stopped his ministrations, electing to watch you unfold for him from between your legs, eyes brighter than ever before. He could see the muscles within your lower stomach contracting, could feel your orgasm upon his fingers, slick coating them in gentle waves, all for him. The sight was more glorious than he ever imagined, the girl of his dreams cumming all over his fingers, all over his mouth, your sweetness flooding over him.

He didn’t allow you time to breath, time to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. He quickly pulled you into his arms, sitting you in his lap, greedily kissing your lips.

“Keigo,” you whined, pressing against his chest, trying to find a moment to breathe.

“Fuck, I love the way you say my name,” his lips were relentless, seeking yours out every time you broke away, head following you like a moth would a flame, “keep saying it, baby.”

“Keigo, get out.” You growled, threading your fingers through his hair and jerking his head away. You kept him at bay, keeping a steady pull on his blonde locks.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you.”

His eyes were so dark, his cock so hard between your dripping legs.

�� He was the devil, Lucifer himself, the wayward angel staring at you, waiting to devour you. And you, you summoned him.

There was no incantation that could contain him or send him away. His arms tightened around your back, one hand pulling you into him by your shoulder, the other hastily pulling himself from his pants.

“See what you do to me, little bird,” he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, big hand using your smaller one to stroke his length, “I’m always so hard for you.”

You couldn’t help the shameless moan that tumbled from your mouth. His cock was silky smooth against your fingers, throbbing and hot, far too hot, and slick from his own pre-cum. You didn’t protest as he used your palm for his pleasure, a sly grin upon his cheeks as he felt you become complacent in his lap.

“Haw—”

The hand on your shoulder was swiftly upon your face, two fingers that tasted like your pussy invading your mouth to silence you.

“When you’re with me, you call me by my name.”

You nodded softly, eyes shifting across the planes of his face, attempting to read his serious expression. He continued to run your hand upon his length, guiding you to squeeze his swollen tip, thumb petting the underside of his cock. His thumb hooked in your cheek, not so gently tugging at the elastic flesh, studying how you let him touch you. He skated his fingers across your tongue, hoping to feel the wet muscle react to him.

“Keigo,” you mumbled against his fingers, the sound like manna from heaven to his ears.

“Good girl,” he cooed, feathers ruffling as he pushed you back onto the pillows.

You laid before him again, limbs heavy and with the ghost of his fingers still in your open mouth. He looked like a god as he towered above you, wings spreading wide as if to parade their otherworldly beauty before you.

Then you felt the weight of his hips between your legs, the press of his chest against your own, the prickle of his facial hair against your neck as he settled himself there. His hands were on you again, precipitous and heedless against your curves, twisting and pulling at your flesh to bend one leg back, hook the other around his waist.

His cock nudged at your wet heat, one of his hands guiding him inside of you, the stretch simultaneously delightful and dreadful. Protest was on your tongue, you could taste the words, feel your gut instinct to use your curled leg to kick him away. But your arms welcomed him, encircling his shoulders as you moaned for him. Your head tipped back against the pillow and he took the opportunity to latch on to you again. His tongue lapped at the sore spot he had created earlier with his mouth, tasting the saltiness of sweat upon your skin.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he groaned, hips beginning to snap into you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, his feathers brushing against your knuckles as he moved within you. You felt so full, so entirely encompassed by him, enraptured by the sweetest devil.

All your movements felt coerced, like your body was following his lead against your will. Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

You kept your eyes open for a moment, entranced by the exquisite scene above you. Keigo felt unhinged, electric against you, golden curls bouncing upon his head, red feathers dancing upon his back. But his face was smooth, pretty, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body. One of your hands trailed up to the back of his neck, weaving within his hair. His eyes fluttered open to see you, signature grin returning as he felt your touch, his hips rocking a little harder to reward you.

“Tell me how it feels to have me inside of you.”

You closed your eyes then, focusing on how effortlessly his cock glided within you. Each thrust was hasty and rough, skin slapping against skin as his cock buried itself deep within your gut. He curved just perfectly inside you, cockhead delightfully brushing against the sensitive flesh of your walls with every plunge of his hips. His hands were splayed across your hips, one dangerously close to your clit, as if teasing you.

“Fuck,” you hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly, “you feel so good.”

A bawdy sound left his throat at your words, like he’d died upon hearing them.

One of his hands slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, leg tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted.

“That’s right, little bird, I’m going to make you cum on my cock.”

Your breasts were bouncing against his chest, your nails leaving indents upon his skin, his mouth back to sucking at your neck.

“And then I’m going to cum in you, make you mine.”

You were too lost to care, every nerve under your skin desperate for his touch. His thumb glided wickedly against your clit, fanning the hellish flames of your ecstasy even hotter and higher than before. A shriek of pleasure erupted from your chest, the hand upon his head bringing him closer to you, crashing your lips together as tears gleamed in your lashes. His cock was hammering into you so ruthlessly, your clit feeling abused from his too-quick thumb.

You were coming undone too quickly and too soon, your body feeling like threads being ripped apart at the seams. He grunted into your mouth, your tongue finally coming to play against his own, battling against him as you wrestled within yourself not to cum for him again so soon. But every stroke of his cock brought a fresh burst of pleasure blooming across your body, and you were so close, so fucking close to falling off the edge.

“Say my name,” he demanded against your lips, “say my name when you cum.”

There was no reason for you to comply, you weren’t his, he didn’t own you, but everything inside of you ached to appease him, and your mouth moved on its own accord.

“K-Keigo,” you stumbled, feeling yourself climbing the orgasmic ladder, every harsh thrust of cock leading you up another rung. His arm wrapped around your back, pressing you up against him in a hectic embrace. Your face settled against his shoulder, your fingers tightening in his hair, the others drawing blood upon his back. He only purred at the pain, so determined to bring you to release that he paid it no mind. His thumb rubbed tirelessly at your swollen clit, moving it in harmony with his cock.

Suddenly your moans stopped, the air being knocked from your lungs as pure ecstasy approached again.

And then the world felt too quiet, your mind hazing over as you cried out in melodic moans, your inner walls clenching and unclenching so deliciously tight against his thick cock as you came for him. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, still plunging into your depths as he sought his own release. Your fingers relaxed against his skin, feeling like you were sinking and he was the only thing keeping you safe from the fall.

“Keigo,” it was a whisper, the barest hint of sound against his ear. But he felt, heard it, and it had him tumbling over the orgasmic edge with a roar of your name. Hot ropes of cum filled your body, his hard cock twitching against your walls.

“Fuck you’re mine, all mine.”

He murmured it against your hair, both arms now wrapping around your body. You laid there, motionless in his arms, heart pounding within your ear drums. Reality came crashing down far slower than your orgasm had, but still the consequences of your actions felt weightier against your body than the man above you.

He fell to his side next to you. But he wasn’t gone, far from it, as his hands were back on your body. One trailed across your cheek, the other dabbled between your legs, toying with his cum that leaked from within you.

He smirked, eyes catching yours, “and now you’re mine, my perfect little bird.”

You were too tired to fight back, lids heavy as he held you against his warmth, the fierce wings of an invasive species draped across your naked flesh.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x reader #keigo tamaki #my hero academia #bnha #collab #hawks smut #yandere hawks #yandere #yandere keigo takami

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rocorambles · 4 years

Text

Trapped

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Prompt: Fantasy

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationship, NSFW, Fantasy AU, Sorcerer Sakusa, Rape/Non-Con, Mind Control, Manipulation, Obsessive and Posessive Behavior, Degradation

Summary: You should have trusted your gut instincts, the lessons you had learned the hard way about just how cruel powerful men could be.

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Friday, October 30th 11:00pm U.K. time!)

You splutter awake, laughing, but also groaning as a wet tongue slobbers all over your face and you lightly shove the fox that’s currently standing beside your resting head, intent on waking you up to play. Blearily you blink your eyes, trying to gauge what time it is based on the light seeping into the cave you’ve come to call your home. Judging by the bright rays of sunlight, it’s already mid-morning and you stretch your arms above your head, petting your furry companion behind its ears before standing up and treading out into the forest, your friend walking right beside you, its tail brushing against your leg.

The familiar peace and quiet of the wind rustling past branches and the faint chirping of birds wafts through the air and you smile as you continue making your way to the nearby waterfall, various four-legged animals that have come to be your family and friends popping their heads out of grassy patches and from behind trees in greeting. You can’t even remember the last time you’d seen another human being and you grimace at the thought of your last encounter.

Orphans, especially female orphans like you, rarely survive for long and you bitterly remember the years of being a street urchin, never knowing when your next bite of food would come, never knowing who to trust in a world full of both humans and magical creatures who’d do horrible things to an unclaimed child and you shiver at the thought of possibly being eaten or harvested for ingredients for countless dark magic spells. But life had only gotten harder the older you became and as a single, vulnerable woman, you began to attract a different attention, no longer able to blend as seamlessly as you once had with predatory eyes trailing after you, resting too long on parts of your body that you desperately wanted to hide from the world.

You tried sticking it out, finding ad hoc jobs here and there as a maid, as a seamstress, as a waitress. But corruption ran deep wherever you went and disgust makes you recoil when you remember all the times you’d been cornered by all types of men and creatures, received unwanted touches in hidden corners and degrading remarks of what your only purpose in life was. And after being left to sob, pain lancing between your legs, your clothes ripped to shreds, knowing no one would ever take your side, knowing that this would just continue happening over and over again, you vowed to never have anything to do with another sentient being ever again.

You’d heard rumors of the forest, about its enchantment, about the stories of terrible things hiding away in its heart, but you couldn’t imagine any monster worse than the ones you’ve already encountered and you determinedly march forward, never turning back to look at the city you’re leaving behind. And as you step past the border of trees, even you, someone who’s never had anything to do with magic, can feel the surge of power, feel the crackling energy as you delve deeper and deeper. But maybe the forest could sense that you meant it no harm, maybe it knew that you were just a lonely, helpless soul, maybe it felt generous, felt pity for the damaged woman seeking refuge. Whatever the case was, it left you alone and in all the years you’d made a home in its lush vegetation, not once had you met any of the ghastly creatures you’d heard so many horror stories of. And maybe that’s why you let your guard down when you meet him, finding a false security in the wood and grass-filled world you now live in.

You don’t bother being quiet or stealthy as you walk. Why would you when there’s never been anyone else around? So imagine your shock when black human eyes are staring at you as you round the corner and reach the water’s edge and panic laces through you when you see how masculine and strong he looks, overwhelming fear making you tremble when you take in the staff you see laying next to him.

A sorcerer.

You’d learned the hard way that men were never to be trusted and that men with power and wealth were the ones to be even more wary of. Fortunately you’d only dealt with vile wealthy men and as awful as they had been, you know men gifted with an affinity for magic make those nobles seem as harmless as kittens in comparison. You’d seen firsthand the havoc sorcerors could wreak, seen the charred, mutilated, disfigured bodies put on display at the city gates as an example of the fate for anyone who rebels against the crown. To your knowledge, all sorcerors worked for the royal family, rarely leaving the walled fortress unless sent on a mission or task, but never in a place like this so-called cursed forest. So what was he doing here?

The urge to flee thrums through your veins, but when he makes no move to stand or get any closer to you, curiosity gets the better of you and you stay rooted to your spot and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself asking the first question that comes to mind.

“Who are you?”

When Sakusa had ventured outside of the castle walls for a break from the irritating humans inside the cramped corridors and bustling courtrooms, he had purposefully chosen a place where no other soul would be. His hand had immediately wrapped around his staff as the sound of approaching rustling interrupted his thoughts, but when you had made your presence known, he could only stare in awe, staff forgotten as he took you in.

You’re different from the usual noble women he sees on a daily basis. For one, you’re barely wearing anything, a makeshift dress of strung together leaves, flowers, and grass the only thing covering you and he can feel his face grow hot as he tries not to blatantly stare at your bare legs and arms. But as he really regards you, he can’t help but feel something wild, something primal in you and he blinks in shock when he realizes that you have the same energy as the forest, as if the forest has claimed you as one of its own and he’s so entranced by his realization that he’s startled by the sound of your voice.

From anyone else, he would have scowled at the forwardness and bluntness of the question, but for some reason, coming from you, he finds himself easily answering.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi”

People, conversations, human interaction. Those are all things Sakusa abhors and yet, as you tentatively draw closer to him, staring at him in wide eyed curiosity while the two of you exchange words, he thinks he doesn’t mind any of those things when you’re involved. He comes to visit you as often as he can, something warm blooming inside of him as he sees your hackles relax, notices how you inch closer and closer to him every time he arrives, and he can’t help but compare you to a wild animal and behind the warmth in his chest, something darker lurks, and he wonders what it would be like to tame you, claim you back from the wooded forest that had taken you in, mark you as his own.

And that thought festers and grows inside of him.

He does his best to keep it at bay, play it off as just a fleeting idea, but when your eyes and body begin to seep into his dreams, into his every waking thought, he can’t keep the desire down any longer and when he strides towards you once more, he drops to one knee in front of you, asking for your hand in marriage.

In hindsight it probably was foolish to think that you were as smitten with him, foolish to think that someone who had been scarred enough to escape from civilization would easily just return to the place full of painful memories, and yet red hot anger blazes through him when you turn him down. It doesn’t matter how sweet and kind you are about it, gently letting him down and telling him you’re sure he’d find someone much better suited to being his wife, someone prim and proper, someone educated and knowledgeable of court intricacies.

Humiliation only fuels his rage as he rises back to his feet and he can feel his magic churning, waiting to be used, dancing at his fingertips, and he has half a mind to forcefully drag you back with him, but he retracts it, pushes it down deep inside of him as he takes a deep breath. No, he wants you to come back and grovel at his feet, beg him to take you in, to help you. He wants you to feel the same need for him that he feels for you and he bites his tongue and restrains himself as his mind begins to plan and strategize.

He tries to remain as normal as possible, still going to visit you as often as before, but his nails dig into the palm of his hands at the pity in your eyes and he clenches his teeth at the way that you tread around him like he’s a wounded animal. But he takes those feelings and lets them drive him late through the night as he chants strange words, flips through old scrolls, experiments with different spells and ingredients and a rare smile stretches across his face when the pieces finally come together.

It’s time to take set his plan in motion and in the middle of the night while most of the city is fast asleep, there’s a strange flashing light, a rush of something sinister in the air, and the murmurs of masculine chanting swirling in the air, lingering, and foreshadowing the dark days ahead. But you remain asleep, peacefully ignorant of the shift in the atmosphere, naive to just how much your life will change.

You wake up, surprised by the lack of a warm furry body or tongue lapping at your face, and you vaguely wonder if you’d woken up in the middle of the night, but the sunlight filtering through tells you a different story. You feel strange, warning bells beginning to faintly clamor in your head, and you gingerly step outside of your lair only to freeze at the dead silence surrounding you. It’s always quiet and calm in the forest, but where there is usually the sound of nature and creatures, now there is only a deathly silence and you stare in horror as the forest seems to decay right in front of your eyes. What used to be green grass is wilting and brown. The trees you’d spent years climbing and picking fruit from are completely bare. But what makes a choked sob get caught in your throat is the corpses of the animals who’d you come to be so fond of littered around you and your slow stuttered amble becomes a frenzied run, as you race through your dying home, hoping to see any sign of life left.

But days pass and the state of your home only gets worse. Your throat is parched without clean water to drink, all the water sources near you murky and littered with fish corpses indicating just how toxic they’ve become. Your stomach aches with hunger, no vegetation, fruits, or animals nearby for you to ingest. And a deep loneliness churns inside of you and once again you feel as alone as you did when you were just a dirty street urchin trying to scrape together a living off the streets.

So when Sakusa comes for his regular visit and finds your weakened body slumped on the floor of your cave, it just makes sense to you, survival instincts kicking in, to drag yourself over to his feet, fling your arms around him when he finally bends down, and sob into his chest. You don’t question the way he’s slow to crouch down to your level and comfort you. You don’t see the cruel smile on his face when he sees you pathetically laying at his feet. You don’t notice the glee in his eyes as you beg him to take you with him. And when he asks you if you’d like to come and be his assistant, you eagerly nod your head and cling tighter to him, burying your face in his comforting and familiar presence as he teleports the two of you back to his living quarters.

Months pass and despite your initial wariness of returning to live among other beings, you find that Sakusa seems to dislike being around others just as much as you, and the two of you find a comfortable way of life mostly holed up in his living quarters with only the other as company. You’d never really been exposed or taught anything about magic growing up, so you’re genuinely fascinated as you watch Sakusa chant, attentively listening as he tells you what each ingredient is, eagerly following his every step as he shows you firsthand how to mix different potions. And Sakusa thinks that your aptitude for learning, the perfect synchronization the two of you have as you seamlessly work your way into his rhythm, preparing and setting things up before he even needs to tell you, speaks volumes of just how perfect the two of you are together, speaks volumes of how you were meant to be together.

He continues strategizing, gaining your trust, letting you grow accustomed to his presence, smiling at the way you don’t even bat an eye when his hands linger on yours a bit longer than normal when he hands you something, at the way you don’t tense up anymore when he presses his body against you from behind as he physically guides and shows you how to do something. And he knows he’s on the right track when you take the initiative to swipe a strand of his hair behind his ear as he concentrates on a task at hand, when you perch your chin on his shoulder, peeking over his shoulder as he jots down notes.

But even the greatest minds make mistakes and when he sends you off to find a certain piece of text for him from the bookshelf in the corner of his room, he forgets to clarify where on the shelf to look and not wanting to bother him, you meticulously comb through every book, forehead scrunching in curiosity when you find a notebook tucked behind, as if it was meant to be hidden. You consider just passing it over, not wanting to intrude on Sakusa’s privacy, but having gone through most of the books and not finding what you need, you wonder if perhaps the thing he’s looking for is in here and that this had just been misplaced or accidentally pushed towards the back of the shelf.

As you flip through the pages you quickly realize this is a book of Sakusa’s own spells and you stare in awe at how much work he’d done, how extensive his own self-created spell repertoire is, but suddenly your heart freezes when you flip to the last few filled pages. You’re not as fluent as Sakusa is when it comes to the ancient magical language, but you know enough after the time you’ve spent with him, the lessons he’s taught you, to recognize ‘plague’ and ‘forest’ and your throat and heart feel both heavy and panicked when you realize the implication of what you’d found. And suddenly you remember the day he had proposed to you vividly, ice cold shock and realization making you shudder when you remember a flash of something dark in his eyes when you had rejected him. And your hands tremble when you see the very last page, taking note of the phrase ‘mind control’. But before you can dwell on it, you squeal in surprise when the book is plucked from your hands and you’re rooted to the spot by dark eyes pinning you down.

You want to scream angry words at him. You want to escape. And yet, you do neither, frozen with fear when you remember exactly what happened to the victims who’d defied sorcerers.

“Hmm. This spell’s not quite ready yet, but I guess we can test it out early.”

And before you can even register what’s happening, a firm hand is placed on the top of your head, the other wrapped around your throat to keep you still as magic surges through the air and you vaguely hear yourself pleading for him to stop, until suddenly you feel trapped in your own body, the connection between your conscience and physical figure severed and you stare in horror as your body goes limp and docile in his arms.

Sakusa peers into your eyes in interest, humming in thought as he scrawls a few more notes in his notebook.

“The end goal of this spell is for me to be able to completely control your mind, but right now it looks like I only have control of the section that handles your physical functions if that ugly hate-filled look in your eyes is any indication. But let’s test my theory shall we?”

And it feels like a bad dream as your body submissively makes its way to his bed, seductively swaying your hips as you sprawl out on his bedsheets, eagerly wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he joins you, bringing him down for a kiss. He’s rough and invasive as he tears your clothes off, calloused hands touching and contaminating every inch of you and you feel disgust as he examines you like you’re a piece of prime meat he’s purchased, coldly and meticulously pinching and prodding you as he observes what makes your body react. And for once, you hate how observant he is, how in tune to your smallest shifts he is, how sensitive your body is as your nipples perk up, as little moans escape past your traitorous lips when he pinpoints your weak spots.

But what you hate most is the triumphant grin on his face when his dexterous fingers swipe against your lower lips and you internally flinch at the glistening slick that coats his fingers when he holds it to your face, evidence of the heavy arousal mixing with your humiliation and hate. And you try to think of anything else, imagine you’re anywhere but here as he begins to wonder out loud while his fingers twist and turn inside of you, reaching and touching places you’d never been able to explore yourself, if he even needs to tweak his spell anymore seeing how you’re a slave to your body’s natural desire for pleasure. Maybe there wasn't a need to completely control your thoughts and emotions as well.

He hadn’t realized what a slut you are, getting off to anyone using your body, and he leers down at you while he continues questioning you, knowing full well you can’t answer or retort to his crude remarks. And he idly wonders if your mind would naturally break without additional magic if he pleasured you enough, transformed you into a warm body that constantly seeks and craves his touch.

The fear in your eyes at his words only fuels his need to completely dominate you and he grits his teeth as he slides into your drenched hole, eyes closing shut as he just stays still and revels in how tight you are, how perfectly you wrap around him. And when he opens his eyes and sees the glassy-eyed lustful look on your face from being filled, he finally releases himself from the controlled facade he so carefully always wears and lets himself dive headfirst into the sultry, dizzying, primal embrace of lust as he pistons his hips in and out of you at a brutal pace, dark eyes never straying from your face as your eyes begin to roll back and your wanton mewls fill the air.

He can feel his end approaching, but he’d be damned if he didn’t make you fall apart with him, drown you in inescapable pleasure, and his hand slips between the two of you, fingers finding your aroused clit and all it takes is a few rubs and thrusts before your body is tensing up, back arching, mouth opening in a silent scream, body convulsing and writhing underneath him, your cunt milking him as you’re forcefully brought to your peak. And he joins you over that edge, thick white spurts coating your twitching walls.

You pray that he’s done, that he’ll release you now that he’s thoroughly tasted and had you, now that you’re just sloppy seconds, used goods. But you’re startled when he lovingly kisses you and tenderly strokes your hair, and your stomach churns at the genuine affection you see in his eyes. And your heart drops, any last bit of hope you had extinguished as he holds your body close to him in a mockery of a loving embrace and whispers in your ear about the future he has planned for both of you, a future where you stay by his side as an obedient, submissive housewife, a future where you’re willing and eager to please him, to love him.

That was always his goal for the both of you, he insists, and a flame of anger burns inside of you at the exasperated and patronizing sigh he directs your way as he blames you for forcing his hands, for forcing him to do this the hard way, for forcing him to resort to magic when you could have saved everyone the hassle by just accepting his proposal all those months ago.

Hate and anger twist and coil inside of you and yet, when he kisses you once more, your body instinctively leans into the soft touch before obediently going lax as he tells you to sleep, eyes automatically closing at the command, and Sakusa smiles at your slumbering figure. It’s not exactly how he had planned to go about this, the mind control spell being more of a back-up option he had been trying to avoid, but you’re finally irrevocably his and that’s all that matters.

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere #haikyuu smut #yandere sakusa #sakusa x reader #tw: yandere #tw: rape #tw: noncon

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sushireads · 4 years

Text

taehyung fic recs

this is a list of taehyung fics i’ve read and loved very much! enjoy. <3

ps. all fics with 🍙 are the ones i loved a little bit more.

Actually, The Devil Wears Gucci by @yandere-society / @chinkbihh

one shot | 6.7K words

You had always thought that ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ was an over exaggeration of what a boss/assistant relationship could be.

Until you met Mr. Kim.

Meryl Streep as a boss would’ve been an angel compared to the monster who signed your paychecks now.

ASSISTANT, CEO, YANDERE au

Akrasia by @nitaescence

smut | one shot | 3K words

(¬‿¬ ) basically two strangers fucking in a crowded bus

STRANGERS au

Candyman by @lthyl

horror, angst | one shot | 10.8K words

There’s a shop, hidden deep in the streets of Seoul, that every night opens its doors only to the ones who need it the most. There, the Candyman lives, waiting for you to buy dreams of silver and gold.

⤷ or: sweet nightmares are coming for you.

ego: hoe chronicles by @suga-kookiemonster

smut | one shot | 4.3K words

he stepped closer again, and though the hairs at the back of your neck rose in warning, you didn’t move back, allowing him to negate the space between you. merely craning your head so that you could look him solidly in the eye. “looks like you still don’t understand who you’re talking to,” he murmured. “should i teach you?”

—an alternate universe of ego

COLLEGE, FRAT BOY, FUCK BOY au

la la land (AO3 Link) by @hoseokiehopie

🍙, smut, humor, fluff | series

Taehyung Kim is one of the hottest up-and-coming stars in Hollywood, breaking barriers and snagging top titles in the film industry. After watching interviews featuring his charming personality and seeing his stunning face on modeling campaigns, you have to admit he intrigues you. When he’s casted as the romantic lead in your movie, you can’t deny your excitement at the chance of getting to work with him. That is until you have a mishap on day one of shooting and realize that pretty face and charming personality is really all an act.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS, FAKE DATING, HOLLYWOOD ACTOR au

love is the warmest colour by @honeymoonjin

fluff, angst, smut | one shot | 13.7K words

still bitter about a scandal that ruined your painting career, you’re recommended a getaway by your therapist to a small island off the coast of seoul. expecting a tranquil location to wallow in self-pity, you’re startled when on your first night, you encounter an avid fan of your work. instead of annoying you for an autograph, kim taehyung ends up being the very thing you need to fall in love with art again.

ARTIST, FAN BOY au

Marigolds by @peekaboongi

fluff, angst | one shot | 4.4K words

Your meeting with famous actor Kim Taehyung was no coincidence, and you find that your destinies are intertwined too intricately to ever escape your fates.

↳ alternatively late night car rides and conversations with Taehyung.

muse by @suga-kookiemonster

smut, fluff | drabble | 2.5K words

this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

ARTIST au

Reincarnate by @yandere-society / @chimchimsauce

horror | one shot | 7K words

‘Taehyung hates his immortal life, rueing the day Namjoon blessed him with eternity. But now, a hundred years later, he stumbles across someone who he— who they— want to keep forever.’

VAMPIRE au

Sanitarium by @lthyl

angst | series

The government hired you to cure Kim Taehyung from his madness, yet, every time you see him in that damn white room you lose sanity and yourself a bit more.

HARLEY QUINN au

See you by @gimmesumsuga

smut | two shots

The one where Taehyung notices you at a concert, and can’t help but want to see you again.

IDOL au

SHELTER by @btssmutgalore

angst, smut, fluff | one shot | 22.5K words

Taehyung’s always been a best friend, which is why you think he’s the right person to ask for help when it comes to relationships.

BEST FRIEND au

Snapped (AO3) by @kpopyandere

ON-GOING | angst, smut | ? | 6.3K words

Your relationship hasn't been going well lately. Taehyung decides to take advantage of this.

TWINS, YANDERE au

The Holi-Date by @kpopfanfictrash

🍙, fluff, smut | one shot | 40.5K words

When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

ARTIST, CHRISTMAS, FAKE DATING, NEIGHBOURS au

the universe of us. by @taesthetes

🍙, fluff, angst, fantasy | one shot | 21.1K words

nefelibata : (noun) lit. “cloud-walker”; the one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams

The story of Icarus tells of a naive being who loved the sun and flew too close, leading to his untimely descent into the ocean. But what the tale didn’t speak of was how the sun and the moon fell in love with him, too. And with the pull of the tides due to the attraction of the sun and the moon, he tosses and turns, torn between two entities.

So if Kim Taehyung embodies the sun, then Jeon Jungkook is the moon.

And you are Icarus.

DREAM, SLICE OF DREAM au

upstream colour by @honeymoonjin

smut, angst | one shot | 22.7K words

Escaping to Venice for a break from your strenuous job was meant to be simple. Go there, decompress for two weeks, and return feeling invigorated. But the soulful gondolier you meet on the docks in Saint Mark’s Square has you wanting to never leave at all.

—part of BTS Smut Club's Open for Business collaboration

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#bts fic recs #namjoon fic recs #jin fic recs #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fic recs #jimin fic recs #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fic recs #fic recs #bts fic recs masterlist #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #bts masterlist

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0lshadyl0 · 4 years

Text

Indifferent, yandere Hawks x Reader

warnings: little NSFW, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, curse words

word count: 1.433

You were really his kind of woman, with fine facial features but strong character and sharp eyes, beautiful and strong, a true beast difficult to tame, Hawks really fell in love when he met you, although it was not easy to start a conversation with you since you didn't seem to be in the least interested in knowing him or even greeting him just for being polite. yeah, you didn't usually speak to him or take a look at him, it didn't matter that he was the hero number two, to you, he didn't exist unless it was necessary, after all, you were a hero too and from time to time two had to do collaborations together. he remembered well his first meeting, when you had just arrived in Japan and coincidentally you two had to fight against a group of mercenaries who tried to assassinate an important businessman, to see you fight firmly against enemies with strength comparable to Nomu's was incredible, but what had hooked him at that moment were your eyes, oh those bright eyes, full of life and passion, he could watch them all eternity and never get tired of them but unlike you that from the beginning you simply saw him as an unimportant person, and a very immature one, who later became an annoying person who seemed amused to be constantly calling your attention, something you never pleased him because that lazy looking flying chicken wing definitely was not worth your time, not even your attention, Hawks could not stop seeing you, every day that passed, the heroine was more and more stuck in his mind, it was that much than he had begun to dream of you, at first they were kind dreams, where you dedicated soft looks at him and little smiles, the winged hero always wished to see one of your smiles

"It must be a beautiful sight" he mutters to himself as he watched her discuss something he had no idea because he stopped to paying attention just to admire you from afar, with Endeavor from the other side of the room, after all, nobody had ever seen you smile or have any kind of facial expression beyond a neutral face or a look of contempt, for that reason you entered the category of heroes who looked like villains, something that Hawks disagreed with since, for him, your image was angelic, not villainous

the winged hero centered his gaze on your back although little by little his curious eyes went down to see your hips and as a final goal your delicious ass, oh man what he would give for having that ass in his hands, better yet, having his cock in the middle of those cheeks, stroking himself between them while you get wet, getting yourself very nice and ready to take his cock inside of you until he cums so much that all your insides get painted with his milk, making you his lover

just imagining you naked, waiting yearningly for him to claim you as his own, make the hero's member throb he also could feel a little of his precum staining his briefs, he was forced to pretend that he was scratching over his pants to accommodate his dick so no one saw his growing erection, 'shit, this is bad...' he thought, after all, as the days went by and the real you ignored him, those dreams began to take darker directions, because his desire was ceasing to be innocent like seeing you happy, to something more... lewd, now he wanted your body, to possess you and that you only see him, not with just a kind smile but with bright eyes full of passion, of love and desire for him, just as his own eyes looked at you since the first time his eyes met with the indifferent yours Hawks must have been very lost thinking about everything that he will do to you in the bedroom or anywhere, the feathered hero was beginning to care very little where he would claim you as his, to not realize when you stoped the conversation with the number one hero to half turn around and catch him as he basically eats you with his pervy eyes, you couldn't do more than sigh heavily while rolling your eyes thinking 'here we go again with this pervert' because of course, it would not be the first time that you discover him watching your ass, in fact he never stopped looking at you as if you were a piece of meat and despite the fact that you wanted to show that you are more than him, being professional and ignoring his staring eyes at all your intimate areas all the fucking time, you couldn't help bothering yourself "Could you please not be a stupid dick and stop looking my ass?" you say without any expression on your face, you won't give him that satisfaction, but by your voice, the two men in the room knew that you're getting angry at the flying hero

"Sorry Y/n but you're very beautiful, and in my defense is almost impossible not look at your behind" Hawks smiled lazily doing his best smiling idiot face, he had well known that if he acted like a stupid jerk you will ignore him like always and although he hated that when you do that, for this situation it was handy

"You're an idiot, I am leaving" With a slight expression of frustration, you decided to leave the room despite Endeavor's call to continue discussing the details of the mission of the three to attack a base of villains 'do not worry I will handle it' was the last thing you say before leaving the place

Endeavor directs his eyes to the winged hero to argue with him about his inappropriate behavior towards the heroine but when he sees it, he does not see his quiet almost lazy expression of always, instead, he sees a look full of pain somewhat distressing but above all he sees that look of intense desire that could almost scratch the obsessive and he most of all can recognize well that look since he once had it too, that kind of look never meant something good, Endeavor knew that he has to be careful with Hawks he was dangerous now

..................................................................................................

"where is she, Endeavor, please... tell me where is Y/n!" Hawks was the vivid image of anguish, his feathers were rampant and he looked disoriented, but he still had someone in his mind and she didn't look anywhere, he was desperate where are you? are you ok? are you safe? did you survive the explosion?

"I... I don't know, she was inside and..." the number one hero was lost of words

Endeavor also did not know the location of the heroine and the desperation of the hero number two, who usually always acted calm and rational in every risky situation, to act like it was the end of the world, at this crucial moment where the only missing person was you, this did not help the flaming hero at all; there was a miscalculation, nobody knew that the building was full of explosives and you who went back to that place because you heard a kid calling for help, just when you got in the building it exploded... and probably you died, he knew it and Hawks too, when he looked into his blue flaming eyes and saw them full of regret, he confirmed the hurtful truth that's why that he threw himself on the floor while he cried all his lungs, after all the winged hero had lost the woman he loved

or that was what he made them all believe

Hawks was always someone very capable of expressing himself, hiding his emotions and especially lying without anyone being aware or notice, so it was relatively easy to put an audio of a child crying for help, knocking you out with his feathers and then abducting you and just for return quickly, of course when he made sure to keep you in a place where you could be safe and more importantly where you can't escape, then he just had to put a show, do a bit of drama and voila, everyone thought you were dead nobody will search for you or try to find your body and in a couple of months you will be forgotten by the media and the public, which it means that he can enjoy you for himself for all the rest of your life, whenever you liked or not

#bnha #bnha imagines #hawks #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere hawks #endeavor #enji todoroki #little lemon #shady spicy #yandere keigo takami #hawks x reader #yandere hawks x reader #indifferent

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aitarose · 3 years

Text

HEAVEN (K.SUGAWARA) pairing: sugawara koushi x fem!reader

“these are the radiancies of the perfected vision that sees the good and step by step moves nearer what it sees.”

inferno collaboration masterlist

summary: there was the idea of perfection, total bliss amongst two serene souls in love, soulmates if you will—and then there was desperation, the total need for control and appearance—that of which he so greatly wanted, the idea of a love that would never be real.

word count: 2.0k

genre/warnings: timeskip, established relationship, major angst, borderline yandere!suga, slight nsfw, obsession, possessiveness, dark?, slight mention of corruption kink, mentions of religious themes

notes: fun fun fun crazy suga!! i definitely could’ve gone a nice and pretty route for heaven, but i wanted to make him absolutely mad—so here it is!

Perhaps there was a world in which you were happy—another universe where you’d spend your days on the beach, laughing as he skipped rocks, treading behind him in the water as the ocean became too deep for your feet to touch. The sea would caress your back, waves serenading your skin, shriveling the tips of your fingers, and wrinkling them to raisins.

He’d have his arms wrapped around you, tracing light hearts on your waist, peppering sparse kisses to the nape of your neck—showering you in love and affection, the pure emotions that he promised he’d always feel—the very things that he lived by, vowed to, repeated to himself every morning as you’d wake up beside each other under the silk sheets of your king-sized mattress.

“I love you.” He’d whisper softly, lips ghosting your own, a faint smile gracing his face. The shine of his teeth was blinding, white and radiant in the light of the morning sun—heavenly, if you will. There was no doubt in your mind that he had to have been an angel in another life, one of the heralds in the sky, flying through the clouds—just so happening to touch the same ground you walked.

And it truly was bliss, an Elysium filled with lovestruck gazes, romantic nights in each other’s presence, the same three words spoken across the phone, the metro, the bed. You’d never believed in the concept of a honeymoon stage of a relationship, believing that if it were true and pure love, that stage would never really fade—that it would always be racing, that you’d forever be surfing the wave.

But waves fall, surf settles, and the currents will always inevitably pull back.

It’d been gradual, the change in behavior. A complete one-eighty from a caring and considerate boyfriend, one of which he’d hold your hand through doorways, wrap warm blankets over your shoulders, make love to you late at night and into the early hours of the morning—all within the privacy of your own home.

The way he’d tower over you, arms holding his own weight, caging your body beneath his, and showering you in endless acts of love. The times where he’d grab your jaw, passionately colliding his lips with yours, taking all of you as if his life depended on it. How he’d trail kisses down your skin, stopping just above your navel, hips rutting to meet yours, quiet grunts and moans escaping the both of you—ecstasy consuming the room.

You shared the kind of love that was envied. The kind that most would spend their whole lives searching for, searching to have just a taste of what it felt like to be so completed by another that it felt as if life was truly complete—like you’d completed the handbook written by the angels above, the unspoken laws of attraction and existence.

However, that love had shriveled, it’d been lost within the tsunami that was Koushi Sugawara. Suga—the man whose peers admired him, asked advice from, trusting with their future—had become corrupt. He was nothing of the man he once was, the boy she’d known in high school through university, the boy she’d spent all those years loving.

He was a shadow of who he once was—his large and giving heart, becoming maniacal and obsessive, freakishly striving for perfection in every aspect of the world—believing that they themselves could become the model couple if they just tried hard enough, if they just kept up the facade that was their sheer wave of love.

There he stood, laughs overtaking his entire face, eyes pinched shut as tears ran down his cheeks at whatever it was that Daichi had just said. He clapped a hand over his best friend’s shoulder, pushing him backwards as if to say that he was being ridiculous, shaking his head in amusement and chuckling once more at Daichi’s exasperated expression.

It was a lie to say that Suga wasn’t an amazing actor, rather a liar, on the skin-level. He knew how to manipulate a situation, maneuver a discussion so it was only on the subject of you and him, on how perfect and happy you were together—how fantastic you were in the eighth year of your relationship since high school.

His tricks were masterful, a true ace in all aspects of the art of appearances. There was no surprise as to why your friends hadn’t caught on to anything—to how your cheeks would no longer flush at the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin, how you wouldn’t spontaneously pull him into a hug or wrap your arms around his waist—even how neither of you would say those three special words in public, claiming that everyone had grown tired of hearing them.

A chill ran down your spin, shivers vibrating in your bones as his eyes met yours. Pupils dark and gloomy, ravishing you under the LED lights—despite the vibrant colors in the room, cheerful decor, and happiness for Asahi and his new line of clothing—he looked at you as if you were his prey, a shark beneath the mask of a kind smile.

Holding up a finger to his former teammates, Suga made his way towards you, slinking through the crowd easily, managing to push past every single person without coming in contact. A sly grin graced his face, casual and appropriate for the current situation—just as it always was—perfectly appropriate.

“What’re you staring at, beautiful?” He whispered, slinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his body whilst craning his head outwards, watching to make sure that there were at least some eyes on you. It was as if you were a caged animal, a dolphin in a tank as the children came to watch the show at the zoo.

Sighing deeply, glancing up at him and leaning upwards to press a soft kiss against his lips, you replied—you replied with the thing you knew he wanted to hear. “I’m staring at you of course.” As his eyes narrowed, nose touching yours, he smirked, a shit-eating look in his pupils. “You’re all I’m ever looking at, Koushi.”

“Damn, right I am.” Suga scoffed, grabbing your jaw and pulling you upwards into a sweeping embrace—his mouth moving fluidly with yours, devouring your surprise, corrupting the innocence he’d already taken from you so many years ago in the physical sense as well as emotional—encouraging you to continue your show. “Smile for the audience sweetheart.” He said against your lips, biting yours, claiming you in front of his friends.

“We wouldn’t want to let down their expectations, now would we?”

Your high school friends were going wild, laughing at the sight of the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms, showing your displays of love just as you always had at Karasuno—the displays of love that were nothing but an act, a charade that you continued for the sake of your reputation—the reputation you had as the young sweethearts who would undoubtedly live up to their yearbook expectations and get married after graduation.

“Enough already, Suga!” Daichi dragged his best friend away from your puckered lips, away from the unwanted desperation that you had for him. It wasn’t your fault that he was practically irresistible, despite the many downsides of his obsessions. He’d been your dream man for all of your life, a man that you wouldn’t give up for the world no matter how toxic the relationship had become—your body longed for him, muscle memory inact with the feeling of his skin on yours.

A sheepish smile grew on your lips, shrugging at the hollers and cat-calls the party had thrown at you, thinking they were laughing along with the wild act—but in reality, it felt as if they were reacting to a comedy show—a show in which you were the star, the only person that was being completely humiliated for pleasure.

The former captain’s chuckles bubbled from his throat, hands holding his stomach as he became breathless, seeing the situation as all the more humorous, not at all suspicious with the perfection of it all. “You guys really are our little love birds, aren’t you?” He nodded at Suga, giving him a little high-five as if to congratulate him for loving you.

The gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes was one of unmistakable happiness, pure joy at the words he was hearing come from Daichi’s mouth. He looked like a man in love, a man who was so overcome with the unconditional feeling of belonging to another that there was nothing else that mattered—nothing that could surpass how his heart beat for you.

How he’d brush your hair in the morning, gently caressing your face, helping you apply blush and bronzer—making sure that you looked beautiful, beautiful enough to impress your shared friends. How he’d spontaneously buy you clothes, dresses, even shoes—ones that he saw in the latest media posts, knowing that they were exactly in style so you’d be envied for your impeccable fashion sense.

Or even how he’d continue to make love to you, all on a planned schedule—a poll made by millions that stated the perfect time to be physical—the perfect time for you to become his again and again.

And perhaps this should’ve made you shy away, grow tense at the feeling of his touch, the feeling of his lips on yours. You could’ve been long gone at this point, far away in the arms of another, someone new who would treat you the way you truly deserved to be treated—a person that would value your love above all else, above the opinion on your love by others.

That was your life, your life in another world—another world where you were able to ride his wave, steer your ship away from his raging sea, and into the calm of the sunset. A world where you were miles and miles away from his predetermined coordinates, compass thrown into the depths of the ocean, buried under the tons of black water.

But this wasn’t that world, and you hadn’t left him—you couldn’t just leave him.

Since there was still a shadow of the man he once was underneath the plastic persona he chose to put on display, the Ken-like reality that he saw through rose-colored glasses. You knew that he was in there somewhere, that if you could just stick around long enough, you could save him from the currents that were drowning him—the currents of obsession and self-doubt.

Which is why it wasn’t your fault when you’d instantaneously fawn at the little looks he’d send your way, or the light kisses pressed to the palms of your hands. When your eyes would roll back as he’d whisper in your ear, telling you how amazing you are, all the things he wanted to do to you as you touched below the belt—hidden beneath the taunting silky white of your bedsheets.

You were victim to the corrupt angel that was Koushi Sugawara, the true demon that’d fallen from heaven—Lucifer, himself, in his most beautiful human form.

There was no crest to this wave, no tunnel that ended in a bright and blinding light, no still beneath the moonlight with sparse waves rippling in its after-light. All there was was the droplets of love that he held for you, a drought in a desert that would never see rain—a horizon that would be barren of life and love for an eternity.

You’d never leave him, never tread the next surf without him behind you on that board. He was your world, while you were his constant—a single variable that he had complete control over, an equation that he could dictate and solve over and over again, never finding the last solution as there was no real solution to perfection.

There was only the idea of it, the idea of being something equal to that of heaven—equal to that of absolute bliss and serenity. You were stuck in a loop that would go on forever and there was no one to blame but your blind love for a man that would never again feel the same. So, in that moment, in every moment onwards—those three little words, three little lies, would be permanent tattoos on your lips.

“I love you.”

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