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kasagia · 2 months

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Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before?

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

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beetlejuicyy · 2 months

Text

Ascension | True Form! Sukuna x Reader

Summary: Ryomen Sukuna is a ruthless monster who takes pleasure in slaughter and destruction. You are his favorite, but that makes the other servants on his estate envy your status. What will master Sukuna do to you when he hears the rumors of his favorite slut bedding a common servant from the kitchen?

Warnings: all of them lol it's sukuna violence, blood, death, sexual content, graphic description, exhibitionism (if there are any others I should mention please let me know)

Word count: 6,518

Read on AO3

Notes: I also had the audacity to end it with fluff??

Masterlist

The corridor leading to master Sukuna’s chambers was infinite. You had walked along the creaking wooden floor so many times before, shortly after you went into his service. Stories of unimaginable violence were spreading from servant to servant, starting with the man who would fix a broken wall to the girl wiping blood off clothes. Clothes of men and women who were called in but never came back. He was a monster. Tall muscular body and four arms, always towering over mortals from his throne in the main hall. People were saying he could have your body sliced in half with only one look from afar. Four blood red eyes, feeding off the trembling of voices, shaking of bodies begging for forgiveness. He had none to spare.

However gruesome the stories about Ryomen Sukuna were all over the country, people still flocked to his mansion, offering their services. People with nowhere left to go, people betrayed and hunted by their own kind, the weak, the poor, the lonely. As much of a monster as he was, his home provided a purpose and a haven for those with no place left among humans.

You were no different. When he first summoned you to his chambers, you expected the most painful and humiliating fuck you could ever imagine.

Violence turns him on.

A lot of the women who survived his bed were saying the same thing. Especially then, when he had just come back from killing an entire village, leaving fire and blood in his footsteps, he was sexually aroused for sure. The girl who was going to be summoned that night was going to die, everyone was sure of that. But you didn’t.

“Men are pathetic.” You told him, looking straight to the floor. That was the first time you saw him, sitting high on his throne, an immaculate white yukata covering his now clean body. No sign of the disasters he had brought upon were left on his body, except the obvious erection you could see poking from underneath the fabric. He crossed one muscular leg over the other, resting his chin on the palm of his lower left arm.

“How so?” His voice didn’t scare you, like you expected. But then again, after you walked along the hall and stopped in front of the stairs of his throne, you couldn’t look at him anymore. His form was so imposing, so intimidating, towering over you. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a god.

“They kill and they rape and they destroy. But they pretend to be righteous.” You were wearing a royal green kimono that softened the red of your skin, as blood was running rapidly through your veins.

“I did the same thing just earlier.” He said, exposing his sharp teeth in a vicious grin, as if he had just caught you lying.

“They are weak, master. You are a god.” You forced your eyes away from the floor. If you were to survive in his service, you had one simple thing to do. Obey. “I would rather serve you, my lord.”

He looked at you in silence, all four eyes quietly analyzing you, your posture, your face, your breasts that barely fit in the kimono who belonged to someone else. You could hear the sound of your own breath, empty air echoing in your lungs. He was unmoved.

“I’ve heard this tale before.” He said, eyes looking down at you through lashes.

He never seemed bothered by your daring eyes so you compelled them to keep looking up. You were sick and twisted compared to other people, you’ve noticed it since you were a child. Maybe that’s why, contrary to all the stories you’ve heard in the first few days you had already spent there, you found Sukuna handsome, more than anything else. Yes, he was a monster in size and in strength, his build terrifying, his eyes piercing and deadly. But all of these things came together as hunky, almost statuesque. The way he was looking at you, a mix of boredom and indifference to your existence, like he controlled the way the universe worked. Your eyes roamed along his body, taking advantage of the time he took to ponder on your fate. The most popular rumor, that was acknowledged as a fact by all the stories circulating, was that he had two cocks. Your eyes fell on his lap and your lips parted slightly in curiosity. Did he really? You were so focused on his body that you didn’t notice the corners of his mouth curled in a perverted grin splattered across his face. Sukuna noticed you were practically undressing him with your eyes alone.

“You seem to be sincere.” His voice reverberated in the empty hall, snapping you out of your daydream. You looked at him with eyes round in surprise as he gestured for you to approach him, his arm extended towards you, rough long fingers inviting.

This time, however, you had the feeling you weren’t going to be coming back alive. You had become his favorite quickly. He would always call for a different woman, most of the time specifying certain features that she had to possess. One night he wanted a short woman, the other a big breasted one with short hair, other times he wanted a woman with visible scars on her body. He never knew their names and never bothered with remembering. They were simple objects to fulfill his bodily needs. Soon, he started asking for you, specifically by name. In no time, you were the only one summoned to his chambers. People noticed it as did you, and you began getting ready, washing your body, bathing in perfumes, decorating it with jewels and the most beautiful of fabrics, knowing Sukuna would soon be back drunk on brutality and violence, eager to fuck you numb.

At first, the other servants were relieved. The women gradually let go of the crippling fear of being chosen to entertain the master in his chambers, the men relieved of the fear that, if the woman they brought in front of the master failed to satisfy him, their bodies would be slashed in pieces. But lack of fear allowed enough space for other emotions in the hearts of the servants.

Envy.

You were too quiet, too serene. As if you enjoyed your status. Moreover, the stories about what was happening behind the closed doors of his chambers were now scarce. You abstained from talking about it to others and, besides the usual bruises that covered your body all the time, there were no signs of violence or terror inflicted upon you. Much to their dismay, when you would return to your room, long after sunrise, a smile of satisfaction would always be plastered on your worn out face. You enjoyed whatever was happening to you. And that gave you power.

This is how you ended up being framed. A few servants, both men and women, came up with a false narrative, accusing you of giving yourself to one of the boys working at the kitchen. They had seen you helping him bandage a deep meat knife cut. From that simple gesture to detailed falsehood about sexual activities was only one step. First, they spread it amongst each other and now they went directly to master Sukuna to inform him that his favorite slut was throwing herself at any man.

All you could do was deny. You had been summoned to the main hall and you knew exactly why. It was your word against theirs but, as much time as you spent in Sukuna’s company, you didn’t know if he cared enough to even find the truth. None of his women were allowed to be touched by any other man. There had been multiple instances when the women he forcefully took had lovers or even husbands that they tried to go back to and they all ended up decapitated. You finally reached the end of the corridor, palms sweaty and heart beating relentlessly in your chest.

Pushing the doors open, the first thing you laid your eyes upon was Sukuna, sitting high on his throne, a depraved look glistening in all of his four eyes. On either side of the room stood your accusers, more than you would have imagined. At least half of the servants of the estate were standing humbly, heads kept down, eyes sticking to the floor. Contrary to their form, you could see the looks of pride on some of their faces, while others seemed to doubt the success of their plan. In the middle of the room there was a large futon mat. It was there often times when Sukuna enjoyed having you touch yourself while he instructed your every move as he sat on his throne. You thought you saw the servants take it out last time.

Sukuna didn’t say a word. Only his superior grin could be a hint as to how this charade was going to end, but you never knew what to expect from his eyes clouded with lust when he looked at you. You walked in, not expecting any formal invitation, passing by the group of servants, not bothering to spare them a look. The only important thing was in front of you, sitting at the top of the stairs, sunk back in his throne, legs parted widely, four arms crossed across his chest. You felt like a mouse walking right into a trap.

“I’ve heard some interesting stories from your friends.” His low voice echoed in the room. It seemed as if you were being choked by an invisible hand. “I believe you’re aware of it.”

“They’re all lies, my lord.” You answered, just as you had planned. You had your most beautiful attire on, your most prized golden hairpin he had gifted you. But you didn’t expect he would have the accusers present while he would decide your punishment. Your ears picked up a faint sound of rushed breaths and steps behind you, as one of the women tried to argue with your answer. Sukuna ignored her as well, all his attention on you. “My body and my soul belong to you, master. You can use them however you consider suitable.” In response to your last words he grinned, that wide grin that exposed his teeth, like a predator.

“Come here, slut.” Pressing your lips together in anxiety, you grabbed the sides of your long kimono and pulled it up as you climbed up the steps of his throne.

The servants looked in shock at your body gradually ascending to their master’s place. No one was allowed to even dream to stand as high as him. He had fucked you before on his throne multiple times, especially after fights with jujutsu sorcerers that would wear out his body but make his cocks hard, his skin still stained with the blood of those he had slain. When you reached the last step you dared to look at him. It was one of the few instances when you got to look down at him, as you stood up in front of him while he comfortably sat on his throne. His arms were now resting at his sides, his crimson eyes filled with contained rage. The closer you got to him, the more you could feel the killing intent lingering in the air. He looked at you with indecipherable lust. For sex? For killing? For revenge?

“Show them how you serve your master.” Sukuna’s command had air stuck in your throat and eyes widened in shock.

You expected to be punished, even killed, although you had grown to trust him and feel safe in his presence. But not to have you humiliated in the front of the very people who falsely accused you. Your lips parted in a pathetic attempt to protest. No sound came out. You took a moment, one that would have gotten any other human in your shoes killed in an instant, to look for the reason in his eyes. Have you become arrogant enough to think you knew him that well? The only thing you could see in his wicked gaze was your own reflection, nothing else beyond the crystal clear layer of his four eyes. You obeyed, conscious that you were a moment too late. You ought to be punished for that too. But did it even matter, given your situation?

You kneeled down in front of him, his eyes following your face as it lowered until it was at the same level with his crotch. Your hands effortlessly worked on the knot tied at his waist, undoing it. You heard gasps and murmurs from the people filling the room when your hand reached under the fabric of his clothes, pushing it away and displaying his two throbbing cocks. Most of these people had only heard stories about it. You licked the top one, pressing your tongue flat along its length, while your hands gently stroked the other one, cupping his thick balls full of seed waiting to be released. This was your chance to maintain your status, to remain in his good graces, so you tried to ignore the thought of all those people watching you sucking Sukuna’s cocks. He let you adjust to his size quietly, one hand reaching to take the golden hairpin out of your dark long locks and throwing it away. Your hair fell down over your shoulders and back, thin strands sticking to your face. The metal fell down the stairs with sharp noise that covered the wet sounds of you slurping and licking his cock. The pin fell tapping in the middle of the group of people but none of them dared to move, even though its worth could have easily earned them a new life.

Some of them were looking anywhere else but at your small body compared to his beastly frame, as your head bobbed up and down his length, unable to ignore the sounds. Others, on the contrary, mostly men, were watching fascinated. Sukuna’s upper right hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing it away from your face and you looked up at him when his rough knuckles grazed faintly against your cheek. Your eyes met his only for a fraction of a second before he pushed your head roughly, forcing his cock deeper inside your mouth to touch the back of your throat. He groaned in pleasure, a deep guttural sound coming from deep inside his throat as you choked, tears filling the corners of your eyes.

“Undress.” Sukuna commanded.

You let him fuck your mouth as your hands moved away from his other cock. More than anything, you needed your hold on him for stability. While your body was shaking with every thrust of his cock inside your mouth, his hand a tight grip in your hair keeping your head steady. Your trembling hands moved to weakly remove your obi and push the hems of the kimono away, the soft fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling around you on the floor. You had almost forgot people were watching, but you heart a faint constrained reaction from the crowd as your naked body was revealed. They could only see your back, some of the lucky ones your large breasts from the side as they jiggled in the rhythm of master Sukuna’s movements. Your hands desperately searched to get a hold of his body as soon as you fulfilled his command. One of your hands found his thigh while the other faintly touched his lower cock before he pulled out of your mouth.

You could feel the taste of his precum deep inside your throat. His upper left hand grabbed your jaw harshly. He pulled your face closer to him, forcing you up from the floor. If he wanted to, he could throw you away from up there, and you would land on the other side of the room, skull crushed against the wall. The thought sent terror through your entire body and you began shaking in fear. Instead of this, he held you by the jaw a few inches away from his face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He could see the distress in your eyes and he grinned maniacally. You could feel his hot breath on your face as his cocks rubbed against your chest, between your breasts, while his large lower hands cupped them together, his sharp nails scratching the soft sensitive skin. Eager to satisfy his needs and cling to your pathetic life, you moved your body along his length, creating friction between his cocks and your breasts. Your hands grabbed his forearms for support as you moved and his grip on your jaw softened, allowing you to move up and down as you needed. He cooed in approval against your lips, only for you to hear. A good sign.

“You’re so eager to please.” He said loudly, for everyone to hear. You wanted to play along, let yourself consumed by the humiliation of the servants seeing you being used like a sexual object only for Sukuna’s pleasure. The more time your spent looking in his darkened red eyes, the more you forgot about the people watching. No, that was wrong. You were not forgetting. You were enjoying it.

“Yes ma-“ You noticed his lower eye look to the side full of rage right before the screams of people covered the low sloppy sounds of his cocks fucking your tits.

"Silence." He growled and the commotion stopped, people biting their tongues and looking away from the headless body on the floor, head rolled a few feet away.

Some were sobbing. Others were frozen with terror. The man that just died in an instant was about to touch himself, turned on by the sight of you. No one was allowed to take pleasure in what belonged to Sukuna. You felt his cocks throbbing even more aroused between your breasts and you knew it wasn't just the warm and soft feeling of your body that got him that hard.

Violence turns him on.

Sukuna pushed you by the head, forcing you to take one of his cocks in your mouth again. This time he was aiming to cum, as both his upper hands were holding your head in place, with each movement the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he groaned like a beast. Your hands grabbed his thighs, nails digging into his skin as you took his entire length in and out of your mouth, your tongue running along the veins of his cock. You took a chance to look up at him, knowing he enjoyed the sight of your face while he fucked it relentlessly, teary eyes and brows furrowed upwards in a helpless expression. Instead, you saw his head thrown back in pleasure, mouth slightly open to let out ungodly sounds. Tears fell down your cheeks but you enjoyed the sound of his grunts, and you joined him with moans that reverberated around his girth. He came in no time, one cock inside your mouth the other on your chest. You swallowed all that he gave to you as the tip of his cock softly rubbed against your lips, the last drops of his milky seed dripping at the edges of your mouth.

“Thank you, my lord.” You moaned, grateful, looking up at him through your lashes, waiting anxiously for his next move.

You heard several overlapping sounds of meat slashing, blood spilling and bodies falling on the floor. Sukuna was taking his time effortlessly killing every single man whose dick got unbearably hard because of you, one by one. You were still with your back turned to the crowd so you could only imagine the number of butchered people and the terrified sight of the ones still left alive.

Sukuna let his robe fall off his shoulders on the throne as he leaned down to grab you by the waist, pulling you up over his large shoulder as he descended the stairs. You let your small body relax, hanging over his muscular one, your soft belly pressed against his shoulder. One hand held you firmly by the waist while the other had both your ankles in a lose grip, holding you in place as he walked down the stairs. He was completely naked as were you. Your feet dangled against his abdomen, your ass and leaking cunt exposed. You didn’t even realize you had gotten so wet until the cool air hit your folds. He could feel your juices on his chest as your thighs rubbed together against his skin and he grinned to himself. He hadn’t even done anything to you yet.

With his every step, you could see more and more of the people filling the room. It was a horrifying sight. Blood was pooling on the floor, people were trying to avoid looking at the dead bodies while also avoiding looking at their master, looking at you, at the same time. It was impossible. Your accusers, who were so certain they would get rid of you, were dying one by one.

Sukuna let you fall off his shoulder on the mattress in the middle of the room. So he had it prepared for this, you thought. Suddenly, as you were laying on your back while he stood up next to you, waiting, you became extremely aware of all the eyes looking at your naked body. Up on the throne you felt safer, above everyone else. Who cared if they were watching you choke on their master’s cocks? But down here, with all these people, blood and killing surrounding you, a spark of fright erupted in your mind. What if master Sukuna was going to leave you here? Wasn’t this the most sadistic end you could meet? He got the servants tormented by the deaths of their own, all because of you, and now he was going to let them get their revenge. They would tear you to pieces. You desperately tried to hide your large breasts with your arms, pressing your legs together as if he didn’t parade around with you and your soaking cunt over his shoulder moments ago. You looked up at him with wide doubtful eyes. When did you become so uneasy in his presence?

“You really don’t get it, do you?” You didn’t know at whom this question was directed. His voice was coated with a thick sense of dominance.

In the following seconds, you saw three people falling to the ground, blood spilling out of their bodies. Sukuna kneeled down next to you, grabbing you by the ankles and raising your legs up in the air. The back of your thighs pressed against his abdomen where his tongue rolled out and licked the soft skin. You whimpered, feeling the burning sensation in your lower body that meant one thing you knew very well. Your cunt needed him. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his neck, the feeling of his soft pink hair on your skin making your shiver. You tried pulling him closer to you, but he only watched, amused. You were struggling to have his body closer to yours, get him to penetrate you already. His lower arms pinned your legs in place while another hand lightly slapped you across the face.

“Beg.”

You had never quite felt the need for him to own you like you did right now. You were desperately clinging to him, ever fiber in your being telling you that the only way you could be safe, the only place you belonged to was in his possession.

“Please master.” You whined, without any second thought.

Somehow, only unconsciously, you knew that the reason he took a liking to you was that you weren’t afraid of him. Not once before this day did you doubt your master. The fact that you found him ravishing, the fact that you carnally wanted him so bad out of your own accord, it was something he never expected but got addicted to. Sure, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted gave him a sort of high only power could attain. But to feel needed, to feel wanted like you wanted him, to have you suck on his cocks so eagerly, beg for him to fuck you like an animal, cry out in pleasure because of his touch, Sukuna would never give up on these things.

“Please, punish me like I deserve.”

You gasped out of air when you felt his lower cock easily sink deep into your moist pussy, while his top cock rubbed against your folds. The feeling of your warm walls clenching around his girth sent a wave of indescribable pleasure through him, a pleasure that only made him eager to chase even more. His movements picked up a fast paced rhythm from the start, balls slamming against your ass with every slap of his hips against yours. He had his upper arms around your legs, keeping them up on one of his shoulders, while his other rough large hands were grabbing your breasts, kneading, playing with your nipples. You began moaning uncontrollably, the mixed sensation of the cock inside your cunt and the stimulation of the cock rubbing against your folds and over your clit with each thrust sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through your body. Your fists were grabbing the mattress tightly, your body hot and sweaty.

Through half open eyes you could see the golden hairpin on the floor and a woman trying to walk and pick it up. Fool. She really thought Sukuna wouldn’t see her, too drunk on your body to pay attention to his surroundings anymore. You could understand, though. Any man fucking with such violence and focus like he was thrusting inside of you was sure to lose all his other senses. But Sukuna wasn’t just a man. He was your god. Part of you wanted to warn her, tell her not to test her luck. Her head was sliced off her neck right when she was ready to reach out and grab the hairpin.

Your eyes were already tightly shut when that happened, the feeling of Sukuna’s cock throbbing inside you ready to release having your walls clench around him and your whines louder, more desperate as you approached your orgasm as well. He pushed your legs open, leaning over you, reaching deeper and deeper into your sensitive hole. You felt the wet tongue on his abdomen again, licking the sweat off your tummy, circling around your navel. The strain on your thighs was getting more and more painful the more he pushed his heavy body against yours.

“I would massacre the whole country for you.” He grunted against your lips.

His name reverberated in the room when you screamed it as your orgasm washed over you. His cum filled your hole, his sticky seed overflowing and dripping along your thighs and your ass. His other cock released his seed on your belly. Your fucked out face was the most beautiful thing Sukuna had ever witnessed in his life. All hot and sweaty, hair a mess around you like a halo, biting your lips, your eyes closed your eyebrows furrowed as if you still felt him inside you. The sight of your body covered in his seed, marking you as his and his only. It only made him want to ruin you even more. You opened your eyes lazily, your chest rising and falling with big movements as you sucked air inside your lungs.

You saw his eyes already fixed on you. Around the room was only death and blood and despair, while Sukuna sat down calmly, eyes fixed on you. You lost count of how many people were dead and how many were still watching. He didn’t call out for you, didn’t gesture in any way, but his eyes were imperative, commanding you without any effort. You forced your body up, supporting your weight on your arms. You crawled to him slowly, already feeling a mellow pain between your legs that would sure hurt a lot more the next day. He welcomed you at his side, a hand placed between your shoulder blades gently pushing you over his lap. You laid on your belly obediently over his strong thighs. His fingers ghosted over the line of your spine passing over the round curve of your ass.

His right hand was still aimlessly feeling the smoothness of your skin when his other right palm landed in a harsh slap over you other cheek. You cried out in pain, right before you felt two fingers of his left hand savagely pushed inside your mouth. You sucked on his fingers as he landed the second, then the third slap, the muffled sounds of your whines echoing from your throat. He spanked you again, in the same spot, and your eyes filled with tears at the growingly stinging sensation. Sukuna was consumed by your touch, by your scent. He loved how easily you got wet because of him. He could smell it before you were even aware of it. When he pulled you up from the floor, carrying you on his shoulder, your cunt was so close to his face, so obviously releasing that delicious scent of your leaking arousal that had his mouth water. Now he had you sprawled on his lap, the need to consume you insatiable. The urge to abuse your body until you were a trembling mess, unable to control it anymore. He leaned over just when you were expecting another painful slap and he sank his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass. He was careful enough not to seriously hurt you, but impatient to feel you in every way, leave his mark wherever he could. You cried out, drool falling at the corners of your mouth around his fingers. He pulled his teeth away and licked the round red mark left on your skin, making you shiver.

Another slap landed on your other ass cheek and he grabbed a fistful of your hair with his free left hand, forcing your body to arch painfully much. He leaned his face closer to yours, fingers still in your mouth. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, his deep red eyes swallowing you whole.

“Who do you belong to, slut?” When you tried to answer you choked on his fingers, unable to articulate any word.

He slapped you again, his other hand squeezing between your thighs. He could feel your juices mixed with his cum drip over his thigh. Sukuna knew slapping your ass was guaranteed to have your cunt drenched. He wouldn’t repeat himself. You squeezed your eyes shut when his large hand landed another slap, his fingers slightly pulling away from your mouth, allowing you to speak.

“I belong to you, master.” His fingers fell from your lips down your jaw to have your neck in a tight grip, choking you and forcing you to look at him.

“Then you can take your master’s cocks at the same time, can’t you?”

“Yes, master.” You replied weakly. He slapped your face, demanding a better, more convincing answer. “Please, master. I need both your cocks inside me.”

Sukuna seemed pleased with your answer, grinning at your deplorable state. You pushed your muscles to stand but he quickly and easily handled your body, using you as he pleased. He had you on all fours, your face sunk in the mattress soaked with your sweat. He ran his palm along your pussy, feeling his fingers slip, drenched in your arousal, as his lower arms had your hips pinned exactly where he needed you. You cried out in pain, feeling both his cocks stretching your walls. He was massive anyway, and now you had to take double the size. As dripping wet as you were, you still whined in discomfort when he forced himself into you. The mattress was wet with your tears and the room filled with your cries of pain that gradually turned into moans as you adjusted around him and pleasure overcame the pain. He slammed his hips violently against your ass, pulling you into him, his nails digging in your skin. One of his hands was on your head, pushing it further, keeping you in place as if you were a doll specifically made to fulfill his needs.

The beastly sounds he let out seemed to come from deeper inside his being, so savage and violent that seemed he was going to break you in half. You were too fucked out to pick up the sounds around you anymore, only his animalistic groans as he hit your insides, covering your moans and whimpers. You only felt a faint splash of hot thick liquid falling at your sides and the smell of fresh blood mixing with the smell of sex. You didn’t open your eyes until you were out of the room, not even when Sukuna came again inside you, his cum not fitting inside your pussy anymore, leaking out, spilling on the mattress and on your ass. Your body fell limp, exhausted and dirty, as soon as he let you out of his grip. The room grew silent like a grave, only Sukuna’s panting triumphantly overcoming everything.

You felt him pick you up in his arms and carry you in the other room, where two frightened servant girls wiped your body clean of the cum, sweat and blood. You moaned in pain when the wet cloth grazed against parts of your body that were already turning purple. Your body was starting to feel cold.

The feeling of being submerged in warm water was the most comforting thing. That is until you felt Sukuna’s large frame behind you, your back resting against his chest, his hands gently pouring water over your shoulders. You sank into his embrace, flesh melting on your bones. His lips hovered above yours, as if testing to see if you were awake. Or if you would allow it? You pressed your lips against his weakly, and he kissed you gently, almost surprised that he was capable of such a soft touch. You opened your eyes languidly, the first thing you saw being the half opened door that lead to the room where a few servants were already cleaning up the blood and bodies. As if you had only dreamed about it, you blinked several times. Sukuna had killed all the people that accused you.

“So, did you?” Sukuna’s husky voice gently purred in your ear.

“Hm?” You asked, eyes still on the other room, as if you didn’t hear.

“Did you fuck the servant from the kitchen?” He asked calmly, almost unbothered, as if he didn’t kill so many people because of it. Your back straightened and your head turned to him, finding the last bit of strength in indignation.

“Of course not!” He grinned at your fervor. “Did you… ever consider it to be true?”

“I don’t need unthankful servants to tell me. I would smell it on you.” There was a hint of threat in his voice, like warning you not to ever do something you would regret. When you looked at him questioningly, he pulled you closer, pushing your back against him, his cheek touching your soft hair. His hand cupped one of your breasts as he spoke, squeezing it, running his fingers over your warm skin. “If you’re afraid, if you’re sad, if you’re angry, if you’re horny. I can smell it on you.” His other hand ran down on your body, fingers resting just above your pussy. “Now imagine if someone else touches you. You would reek of dirty human.” You were sore already, drained. But you didn’t fight his touch, you didn’t try to stop him.

“I am a human too, master Sukuna.” You said and your breath hitched when you felt his fingers lightly rub circles around your clit.

“No.” He argued, your heavy breaths filling the room. He knew you didn’t get the chance to cum the last time. “You are my queen.”

With your eyes closed your hands searched for his. He took your hands in each of his, resting at the edge of the tub, intertwining your fingers together. Your soft whimpers echoed according to the motion of his fingers and he kissed your hair, encouraging you through your orgasm.

The water was starting to get cold. You were resting there in silence, your mind rewinding everything that happened. Sukuna said he could smell fear. Did he smell the fear on you when you first walked in? When you thought he was going to kill you? When you feared he was going to leave you at the hands of his servants? Instead, he called you his queen.

“There’s… someone.” You said instead, not daring to ask these questions. The silhouette of a man standing still in the hall was visible through the half open door.

“Oh? Yeah, it’s the boy from the kitchen. I haven't decided what to do with him yet.” Sukuna replied. “He’s the only one who defended you. But then again, what could he say? Defending you means defending himself.”

“Someone needs to live to tell the tale.” You mumbled. He cocked his head to the side, encouraging you to continue. “I would free him from your service. Give him some money. He will surely spread the tale of the ruthless Ryomen Sukuna.” He didn't reply. You doubted he was going to listen to your suggestion.

That night was the first time you went to sleep by his side. Usually you would pick up the moment after he was satisfied enough with your presence and retreated. He never commanded you to leave but never signaled he wanted you to stay, either. This time he carried you in his arms to your new room. You were probably not able to walk on your own anyway. He was going to have you moved away from the servants, closer to his chambers, he explained when he slided the door open. He laid you down on the freshly clean mattress before you felt his large frame next to you. You quickly scooped closer, with much effort since all the muscles in your body felt sore. With your head on his chest, one arm over his wide muscular torso, you fell asleep faster than ever, fatigue winning over your body. The last thing you remembered was the feeling of his fingers in your hair, while his lower hand was softly laying on your hip. You've never felt so relaxed before.

When you woke up, the painful sensation between your legs hit your brain before you were even able to open your eyes. Sukuna was nowhere to be seen. You didn't even feel him leaving your side, fallen deep in your undisturbed sleep. Next to the mattress, on a small low table, a covered tray was waiting for you to wake up. On a small note, written by hand, a message greeted you.

Regain your strength soon, my queen

《《previous Corruption | next 》》 The Hunt |

Geto Suguru x Reader True Form! Sukuna x Reader

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #true form sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujustu kaisen #sukuna jjk #sukuna imagine

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ac0smicdanc3r · 5 months

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Eddie getting out of Steve’s bed in the morning and sleepily going downstairs to get some coffee from the kitchen. He grabs Steve’s polo from the floor on his way and puts it on, his outfit now consisting of a preppy polo, that is unmistakably Steve’s, and his underwear.

As he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, he is met with the sight of all six members of the party both sitting on and standing around the kitchen counter. It shouldn’t be surprising, the party hang out at Steve’s fairly often. The real mystery is how on earth they got in when Steve has been asleep all morning.

However, Eddie’s train of thought is cut short by the six pairs of wide eyes now staring at him. It’s then that he becomes aware of his appearance. So much for keeping his and Steve’s new relationship a secret.

The party stares at Eddie for a few seconds and he stares back. Without saying a word, he retreats back round the corner and up the stairs to Steve’s room. He stands at the foot of the bed where a half-asleep Steve peers up at him.

Eddie: Well, I think everyone’s gonna know.

Steve: What are you talking about? Why are you wearing my shirt?

Eddie: I put it on to go get coffee.

Steve: Downstairs?

Eddie: Yup.

Steve: But the whole party’s here…

Eddie: (sarcastically) You’re kidding!

Steve: You walked into the kitchen looking like that!?

Eddie: Yeah well, I didn’t think people could be in your house without you letting them in!

Steve: I gave Dustin my spare key, he can just let himself in.

Eddie: Oh he certainly did, just in time for the floor show.

Steve:

Steve: …maybe no one noticed?

Eddie: Look at me!

Steve: Okay yes, but you wear crazy outfits all the time

Eddie: They usually include pants.

Steve: Okay, so they know. So what? I mean, they’re gonna find out eventually, right?

Eddie: Right…so we’ll hear about it for a few days.

Steve: A few weeks.

Eddie: Six months of hearing about it, but then it’ll die down…so, okay, well, they know. It’s out.

Steve: It’s out.

Steve: …Where’s your coffee?

Eddie: *gestures to himself, still only wearing Steve’s polo and his underwear*

Steve: Oh, I’m getting your coffee.

——————————————————————————

Btw I cannot take credit for this hilarious dialogue, it’s a scene from season 5 episode 3 of Gilmore Girls where Lorelai walks into Luke’s diner wearing only his shirt, revealing their new relationship.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party #gilmore girls #I’m sorry about the dialogue format

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cherry-cola-on-ice · 2 months

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Slashers with a sleepwalking s/o

AN: totally based off my personal experiences sleepwalking lol asked my friends and family what their favorite sleepwalking episode was.

Jason Voorhees 🏕

Jason is already paranoid AF about you unknowingly wandering into a trap during the day.

But the first time he comes across you in the woods at night? When you should be asleep?

He is not a happy man. Many thoughts run through his mind. Are you trying to leave him? Trying to get yourself hurt? Would you rather die then be with him?

It takes him a good while and a lot of explaining for him to understand what's happening. That your not intentionally doing this. Science shit™️

He sets up a system. Maybe a bell or two. Something loud to let him know where you are. Maybe some trip wires.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: He watched you eat a entire sleeve of saltines while standing in the shower.

Michael Myers 🎃

Michael's seen some shit. So this is nothing. All those years in Smiths Grove have prepared him for this. So you sleepwalk? Cool, his neighbor at Smiths Grove used to eat cockroachs.

That being said, the closer you're relationship grows, the more worried he becomes. What if you fall down the stairs? What if you wander into the road? What if, what if, what if??

He doesn't have the foresight to set up traps, like Jason does.

Uses his fucked up sleep schedule to his advantage and often stands over your sleeping body. Jumpscare.

Will definitely tie a bell on you while you sleep. Totally not a collar what are you saying? Don't make it kinky.

The strangest thing he's seen you do: Put all of the remotes in the refrigerator because they needed batteries.

Thomas Hewitt 🥩

Poor sweet man. You're going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

However, he's probably one of the more better prepared of the lot. His house is set up to keep people in and out. So there isn't much danger you can get into.

Unless he forgets to lock up the basement. Which has happened once. And only once. You were fairly unharmed if not a little traumatized.

Has taken to locking your bedroom door. Also installs like 10 latches. AND puts a bell on the doorknob. And maybe sometimes you.

Look, he's already scared of losing you to somebody else, he doesn't want to have to worry him losing you to you.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: Him, Monty and Hoyt sat and watched you stand in front of the sink for a hour and a half. Just standing there. Menacingly

Brahms Heelshire 🐀

Oh, poor baby is confused. Especially at the start of your situation-ship. You don't know he's there, you just think you're babysitting a doll for a sad old couple. Not their grown ass son who lives in the walls.

The first time Brahms finds you sleepwalking, he's pissed. You trying to leave him, he knows you are. But... did you just snore?? Wait, you're asleep. He feels a little better about the situation.

Until you start walking towards the stairs. Boy's never moved so fast in his life. He knows if he wakes you up it's game over. So he gives you a gentle nudge back to your room.

Now after you find about the rat man in the walls, things are different. Brahms, even in the deepest REM cycle, will never let you go. Man is a koala and you are the tree he's clinging to for dear life. It's almost impossible to escape his arms at night.

Almost makes you sleep in the walls instead of the bedroom so you're safer. Like ain't no way you're getting out of those without him waking up.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: Sat up in bed, complaining about the maracas in your mouth??? He cried.

Billy Lenz 🎄

World's worst caretaker 👑

Especially before yall start dating because, at that point in time, he's still trying to decide if he wants to kill you. He won't lie, he very briefly thought about pushing you down the stairs.

But? After you win him over? Yeah still kinda sucks ass at keeping you from hurting yourself. He'll keep you alive, mind you, just a little worse for wear.

He asked you once if he could tie you down in bed. You didn't like the look in his eyes so you declined. Billy pouted for the next three days.

TBH he might do it anyways. Look he's just trying to keep your silly little self safe, S/O. Get your mind out of the gutter. Haha, jk...unless 😏?

The strangest thing he's seen you do is eat a entire bag of gummy bears while standing outside. He joined you.

Vincent Sinclair 🖌

Another prepared king 👑

His workshop is dangerous. Upstairs is dangerous. The whole town is health code violation. And bby cannot stand the idea of you hurting yourself.

But other then the constant anxiety that you'll some how end up falling off the stairs or falling into the wax or the any other number of things his brain comes up with, he's very level-headed.

Child safety locks. He buys that shit in bulk.

But hey, gives him a excuse to hold you at night. (Vincent, they're literally your s/o)

The strangest thing he's seen you do is stand over Bo's bed, chanting tomato. Bo almost cried.

Bo Sinclair 🔧

Definition of "Look at that idiot...oh wait that's my idiot!"

Honestly, probably the worst. Not like 'let's you just walk around' worst, but more like 'Imma gonna chain you to the bed' worst.

Dude's so scared of losing you, pretty much the best thing that ever happened to him, that his willing to go to drastic matters to keep you safe.

Don't try to explain the science behind it, you'll only give him a migraine. Just let him keep you safe. K, bby?

Bo's gonna lose sleep some nights, he's that scared. No doubt you will wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. Just comfort him, ok?

Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit up in bed and start singing 'Livin La Vida Loca'

Asa Emory 🪲

Number one prepared king™️

I'm not saying he may or may not, kinda sorta perhaps placed cameras around your living situation before you two even began dating. But yeah he did.

So he knows all about the crazy shenanigans you are up to at night.

He reads the books, watching online lectures 👏all👏the👏research. You can bet your sweet ass he knows exactly how to wake you up in case of emergency.

In the same breath, despite how much he does love you, science. Prepare to be studied like a bug under a microscope.

Strangest thing he's seen you do is standing with the refrigerator doors open, telling him how much you love this show.

Norman Bates 🚿

My poor sweet innocent murder bby. He doesn't know what to do.

Yeah, keep you safe, he's got that much down. But at what cost?

The hotel looks like a a daycare center now. Baby proofing everywhere (ask him about getting locked out of the bathroom, it's funny)

Suggested a collar once as a joke, wasn't expecting you to agree. Got flustered. Dropped his cup, maybe got a bone.

Another koala sleeper, so good luck escaping his embrace. Will go as far as following you to the bathroom to make sure you're actually awake.

Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit down in a fake potted plant in the living room and talk about dinosaurs.

#Michael Myers x reader #Jason Voorhees x reader #Thomas Hewitt x reader #Brahms Heelshire x reader #Billy Lenz x reader #Vincent Sinclair x reader #Bo Sinclair x reader #Asa Emory x reader #Slasher x reader #norman bates x reader

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diejager · 2 months

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The writing where reader died, what happens if they were revived as a wraith like Ghost? There's probs going to have a lot of fluff and a small angst here and there. But I mostly wanna read your writings!! It's cus' I can't get enough, and kept rereading it all the time

Cw: pain, death, turning, cannibalism, implied torture, implied blood and gore, angst, fluff, hunger, tell me if I missed any. We’re going to forget how you previously died, cuz @bluegiragi gave us more info about wraiths and I just love where the comic is going.

What a cruel joke, irony hitting him in the face the same way his abrupt shift hurt him, an apathetic slap to the face that left him bloody and in shock the way he left Roba on his dying breath. Simon didn’t know what was crueler, the knowledge that you were tortured and buried alive, left to die alone for the sins of his own making and the wrath of another, or that you were left to die a slow and excruciating death after being beaten half to death, expected to lose your resolve solely on the fact that you were a medic, and turned into the monster he was.

Neither your captor nor death had been merciful, much less the reaper, a collector of wandering souls and lost ghosts, waiting their turn to cross the river with a small token for the afterlife. Be it Hermes, the messenger and the carrier of souls, Thanatos the reaper and collector, Anubis - or Inpu, however people called him - the guide, Ankou the shadow, Sgàthach the warrior, or Freyja and Fólkvangr; you weren’t granted the soft embrace of a calm death, but the cruel rejection of it, forced back into life and abandoned by sweet sleep.

He remembered his own, the painful pull of his back, the crazed smoke that filled his mind with a thirst for blood and revenge, the crack and ugly break of his bode, reshaping his body and organs dyed dark, dying and pained. He remembered well the pain of it like it was yesterday, having to crawl out of the shallow grave on his own and discover the carnage he left behind, stained in his and Price’s blood. He was reborn.

And so were you, crying and sobbing, your skin scarred beyond thinking and mind in shambles of broken faith and abandoned affection. He knew first hand how it felt, the burn and agony of it, the hunger and ache that plagued you like an undying pestilence, darker than the one that ripped through Europe in the fourteenth century and more devastating than the Justinian’s. He’d been too late, too slow to help you through the first ripple of shock and fear once you’d quenched your thirst, staunching it like you would a wound. He let you fester in your sorrow and hunger, left you without a guide or caretaker until you ravaged the area, leaving only blood and rubble in your devastation.

But he’s here now, picking you up from the mess you found yourself in, a storm of smoke and thick black that you hid yourself in, to hide the monster you had become. He might not be proud of who he’s become - much like you - but he grew into it, lived his life as one, and he would be here to help you through the process of it. Where he wished he had a helping hand, you would have his. He would help you with your hunger, the famine that grew the more you left it alone, filling your being with bodies he’d gather up for you to absorb. He would teach you how to control the smoke - the sinews of your being, the consistence of it forming your figure - and build from it, stopping yourself from phasing to and from it, staying as a physical manifestation of it rather than darkness itself.

Where he felt lost and confused, alone and wishing for a swift end, you wouldn’t, he made sure to stay, to be the pillar of support for you whenever you crashed, his body covering yours to stop you from vanishing in a fit of tears. Where he spent time hating himself, demeaning the cannibalism he became, you wouldn’t, he’d rather send himself to hell than let you think you were the lowest of the low, a human eating another. And where he was cruel to himself when death had renounced him, you wouldn’t, he’d whisper the sweetest words, praises, compliments, affection and guidance, he would make sure you wouldn’t drown alone like he did years ago. He loved you too much to let that happen.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #monster 141 au #monster cod au #monster 141 #wraith!reader #tw death #ansgt #fluff #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #tw: torture

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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months

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Eye for an Eye

Summary: Miguel rescues you in an ugly way. A/N: my guilty pleasure is sometimes i wanna be saveddd Warnings: Brief suggestion to sexual harrassment/assault, a bit of violence.

Somehow in the year 2099, most people didn't understand that Spider-Man in this age didn't follow the famous "no killing" rule that the original Spider-Man upheld in the Heroic Age. Most people meaning criminals.

Spider-Man, even when saving people from falling from skyscrapers or punching Public Eye scum in the face, if pushed to his limits- he would kill. This was his rules, his timeline, his Nueva York and if some pesky criminal wouldn't understand that then he'd get rid of them by any means.

So where do you come in all this?

Despite your efforts at secrecy, in the dead of night Spider-Man would often escort you home after work or if you had gotten into trouble with some purse snatcher. Other times, he'd sneak in your apartment window after a long fight, wanting to see you and have you patch up the wounds that would take a little more time to heal.

Spider-Man had revealed to you that he was actually Miguel O'Hara, the handsome stranger that had seemingly bumped into you more and more often after your very first encounter with Spider-Man. Having already been in an established relationship, you felt your heart drop at this major secret.

A part of you was angry at him for not telling you. For revealing your feelings about Miguel to his alter ego Spider-Man and making a fool of yourself. For all the nights he cancelled seeing you without explanation-something that put a strain on your relationship for a while.

However the other half of you was drowned in worry. So all those times his masked covered face had come in to see you, bloody and bruised while you fixed him up, it was all him. He could die, you told him. Why would he do this to himself?

"I haven't been good all my life," He groaned while you pressed a damp cloth to his wound one night. "I think of all this as repentance for being a shocking moron in my earlier years."

"There are other ways to repent. Like donating to charity or some confession booth at a church. Not some...Not risking your life." You could barely look at him, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall while it clouded your vision.

"I'm not religious." Miguel replies. "It wouldn't mean anything with these in my body now. They'd probably still send me to Hell regardless." He lifts his hand, his talons auto extracting from his fingertips and he feels the bile from his stomach stir, an urge to vomit at the disgust of himself.

He forces his talons back into his fingertips so he could tilt your chin up to face him. His thumb caressed your cheek to wipe off a stray tear that had fallen. "I'm sorry I put this all on you." He whispers.

You shake your head. "You're stupid, I always knew that," You sniffle and Miguel bites his cheek so he doesn't smile. "But I could help you better now. I...I know who you are and everything makes sense now, we could-"

Miguel stops you by shushing you. "No, no, no. You're not helping me anymore." Your heart drops again.

"What do you mean?"

"This is the last time we'll see each other."

Your jaw drops this time. Eyes that widened in shock now turn to anger. "Shock, Miguel. I knew you were an asshole but breaking up with me after revealing your secret identity to me has got to be one of the lowest things you're doing."

You lean away from him, bloodied and dried cloth thrown at his chest. "I was useful when you could just pop in whenever? No strings attached–was it fun?" You scoff in hurt.

Miguel grits his teeth. "No, carajo, it's-it's me-"

"Don't bullshit me Miguel with that it's not you, it's me rhetoric." You cross your arms tightly to your chest.

"It's dangerous!" He barks back.

"Like it wasn't dangerous before?"

"It was! That's why I can't come back! I can't let myself lead them to you!" Miguel sits up and grabs onto your shoulders tightly and gives you a firm shake. His hands shake as he holds you, his head hanging. "This...this power of mine. I...it can lead so many of those assholes to you." He whispers. "I trusted you enough to come here, which I hate myself for. I should’ve never involved you in any of this.” Miguel’s hands fall from your shoulders and down your arms to grip your hands in his. “I’ve already put you in so much danger. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”

The feeling of his talons pricking your skin and the sight of his fangs leaking a drop of his venom made you think maybe he did know what he’d do. He would just really want to avoid it.

“Miggy,” You say softly. “How about you let me make that choice? Now that I know, it doesn’t scare me. Do you know why?” You take your right hand out his grip to cup his cheek. His tired eyes look up to yours, nostril dried with blood and a scar on his forehead that surely needed bandages.

“Because I know you’ll protect me. You’re Spider-Man.” You lean in closer, Miguel under your spell. “Let me help you. That’s my decision. In return, if I’m ever a damsel in distress, I hope you’ll help me.” You give him a small smile and his hand covers yours on his cheek. He squeezes your fingers. “I promise.” He swears. Miguel always kept his promises even if he stumbled on the way. So when he went to visit you after his nightly patrol, he didn’t expect to see your entire apartment in disarray. His mask phases off his head, scarlet eyes wide and panicked. He gulps down his fear, muscles tense as he steps into your room. Blankets and pillows on the floor, some slashed and stuffing being poured out the seams. Your desk that held photos of you and your friends had also fallen to the floor, glass shattered and frames broken. Miguel takes another quiet step outside of your room. Your entire living room was a mess. Your couch had been moved and cut in half, lamps cracked and more photos on the floor. His heart stops when he sees blood in the kitchen. Some of the knives had been taken and another wave of fear splashes down his spine. It was clear there had been some sort of resistance with whoever took you. Whoever took you. Who took you? Miguel feels the fear morph into rage, his mask phasing back on his head. “Lyla. Scan this place.” He growls. His AI assistant glitches into existence, her eyes behind her pink heart shaped glasses full of worry. She begins phasing in and out of different places while Miguel lets the anger fester in his body. HIs talons on his fingers and feet itch to come out, to be sharpened for whatever poor soul’s flesh he’ll rip into. His fangs seep out his paralyzing venom, his tongue licking off the excess. Lyla appears in front of him, more meek and smaller compared to her usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. She knew there was a time and a place. “The blood isn’t hers. They most likely knocked her out since there’s no trace of her own blood around. Fingerprints on the knife handle are hers. No other DNA samples could be acquired.”

Miguel walks towards the entrance of your apartment. His hand grazes the door frame that had been split apart. Lyla appears next to him. “Forced entry, probably by foot. There’s some traces of wet soil–mainly seawater. I’ve tracked several fishing ports–most in Staten Island.” She displays holograms of different spots, standing tall by his side while he skims through. “Did you find a match on the blood?” His voice rumbles. “Negative, Miguel. None in the criminal database, including The Raft. Looks like this is the work of someone new.” Miguel grows furious. He roars as he punches his hand through the already destroyed couch. Some novice wants his attention so badly, he’s willing to piss him off for it. Miguel swings out of your place and searches the entirety of Staten Island’s fishing ports until he finds the one he was looking for. You don’t know where you are but you can feel everything. A sash was wrapped tightly around your eyes, some rope or zip ties held your wrists together and your ankles to the chair you sat on. You felt the pounding of a headache when you woke up. The last thing you remembered was one of the intruders lifting his gun and slamming the barrel down on your temple. They grew tired of you after reaching into the kitchen to protect yourself. You held them off well but you were still just one person. The sash had been lifted from your eyes and you groaned when a bright light of a lamp shined in your face. While you squinted, you could make out at least three people in front of you.

“I’m sorry about my men. They’re still a little new. You know how it is when you get trainees for a new job.” The one in the middle speaks, you noticed he also is the one that took off your sash. “What the hell was the point of all this? You just kidnap random people from their homes?” You glare up at the man and his two puppets. “Streets say you’re good friends with Spidey.” One of the smirks. “Had one of these guys watch him crawl in your window like some squashed bug.” You scoff softly, rolling your side to the side. “So what?”

The man in front shrugs. “Either you’re his whore or you know him. So which is it sweetheart?” He rests his hand on the back seat of your chair and leans in close to your face. “Who is Spider-Man?”

You licks your lips and stare back up at him, choking back the stretch his breath was. “I don’t know.”

He grins. “Hm. So you’re his whore. A special one at that. He doesn’t appear in just anyone’s home so what services do you offer him in exchange for some protection? Do they apply here? Baby, I can protect you too.”

He’s sick, your mind screamed. You struggled against your restraints.

“Shock you.” You spit on his shirt and he lands a hard slap across your cheek.

He mumbles a string of curses before grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Don’t forget who’s in the shocking chair, sweetheart. Your hero ain’t here so be a doll and shut the hell up.”

Your chest heaved up and down in deep breaths to calm your scared heart. You feel your cheek stinging and it didn’t help with this rotten man’s fingers digging into your skin.

Your silence pleases him and his other hand reaches down to your knee. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweet thing. It’s just one simple question and I’ll let you go.” He lies. His hand rides up your thigh and your leg tries to kick him away from you but he just grips you tighter. “I don’t know.” You plead hoarsely. “I know, I know. So you say.” Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his men snatched into the darkness with a clawed hand around his mouth. Miguel. The guy in front of you digs his nails deeper in your skin and you can feel the scratch. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You whine at the pain, pursing your lips to keep yourself quiet. “See, Spidey’s head goes for millions of dollars–money you can’t even comprehend so if you could do your community a favor of just letting us in on some intel on the son of a bitch; that’d be great.” “You wanna kill him?” You ask breathlessly, looking to the other side to see another newbie being hindered, his neck tilted to the side while some teeth bite into his flesh. His body slowly lost consciousness and was also dragged into the darkness silently. “Most of Nueva York wants that guy dead. All the ones on top but I’m dirt poor, sweetie. It’d be a disservice for the hero to not let me kill him. Shouldn't he give to the poor and needy?” He sighs, letting go of your cheek so both his hands rests on your upper thighs. You feel your skin crawling and try to move away as far as you can in your seat. “But you don’t know anything do you? Then I’d be doing a disservice by throwing out some useful goods here, don't you think?” His grimy hands grip your hips, looping his fingers around your jean belt loops. Before you could even think, the man is instantly ripped off of you by his shirt. He’s thrown back on his side, skidding as he comes to a halt. Spider-Man towers in front of you, his back facing you. You could still see the rage oozing from his suit, shoulders and muscles tense and claws out. His chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, the only sound coming out of him.

“Spider-Man!” The man growls, stumbling to get back on his feet. His pistol had slipped from the back of his jeans, sliding away from him. “Dammit–Darrell! Fernando!” He calls to his two men but he freezes. On the floor are both his associates, one’s clothes ripped apart with claw marks on his chest, the other with his jaw slacked open and two puncture holes in his neck–a strange mixture of blood and another liquid oozing from the wound. He lets out a strangled scream as he looks back up at Spider-Man. His tall frame stalks over to him but the man crawls to find his gun. Before he could grab it, Miguel stomps on the man's arm, giving a satisfying crack to his bone which the man cries out painfully. While he writhes on the concrete ground, Miguel grabs onto his broken arm and lifts him up–he screams, trying to push Miguel away. “You wanted to kill me?” Miguel growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man pleads for his life and another set of footsteps come from behind. “Shoot him!” The man yells as Miguel looks back over his shoulder. The rest of the group comes up from behind Miguel, raising–what Miguel considers pathetic–guns up to his face. The eyes on Miguel’s mask squint slightly and just as quickly, he turns with the man in his hands and uses his body to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets. The man’s entire group fires and every single bullet pierces into his body, splattering blood on the ground and Miguel’s suit. Miguel makes sure that you weren’t hit at any moment. Miguel tosses the limp corpse to the side and pounces into the group, attaching his fangs into some man’s neck while his talons ripped along his arm to let go of the rifle he was holding. Chaos ensues and they all begin shooting at one another in hopes that one shot could land on Spider-Man. Miguel’s claws ripped apart limbs and skin, every single hand that raised against you was littered to the ground. He continues to swing and jump around, letting everyone get lost in the confusion before tearing through chests and stomachs. His rage knew no bounds at the moment. He had planned to just come in secretly while he still had a part of his mind. Get in, use his venom, take you and get out. But when he saw what that scum would’ve done to you, touching you, gripping onto you–he lost his mind. Even with Lyla’s brief protest, Miguel couldn’t help but want to tear him apart. So he did.

It wasn’t often Miguel had to be reduced to such measures but everyone had their limits. By the time it was over, he barely noticed how silent it had become. His ears were still ringing, he felt like he was underwater as he gulped in heaps of air. “Miguel!” He hears Lyla yell at him. He snaps his head to where he heard her voice, blind rage melting when he sees you still in the chair. He sees Lyla with her arms crossed, her little foot tapping angrily in mid-air. Lyla had done her best to cover your sight and hearing of the crime Miguel had done with holograms of whatever–surely it was much nicer than watching Miguel gnaw off a piece of someone’s throat. Miguel glances at his hands stained and dripping with blood. He wipes them on his legs, hoping to get it off him before you could see. He falls to his knees in front of you with a soft whine of your name and his mask phases off. “Lyla, blur the room.” Lyla does as told and lets you see him. Your eyes are concerned and scared. “Miggy…” You whisper, feeling the trauma set in. “I’m here, I’m here–I told you I’d protect you, yeah?” Miguel uses his talons to cut off the zip ties from your wrists and ankles that were digging in your skin. Once you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. Miguel fell back but made sure to hug you back, his arms going around your waist while his other arm went up to cradle your head. He buried himself in your shoulder, breathing in the mixture of your natural scent and the scent of the man. He growled and held you tighter. He’d do something about that smell.

“I was so scared–I didn’t know what to do–How did you find me?” You babbled as you finally felt safe enough to sob and cry. “Don’t worry about that. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Miguel reassures you, kissing your temple and cheek, pulling away gently to brush your messy hair away from your face. He wipes your tears with the back of his hand, unintentionally leaving a bloody mark. “Shit..” He mumbles, ashamed and pulls his hand away. You stop him, holding his hand back to your cheek. You just wanted to feel him, his warmth. You weren’t stupid. You knew what happened when Lyla put up holograms that blurred what you weren’t supposed to see. You didn’t care. May they rot. “Thank you.” You whimpered. “Thank you.” Miguel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Always. I’ll take you home.” “But, my apartment–” You try to speak as Miguel moves to hold your body in one hand while he swings on his web with the other. “Not your apartment. Mine. My penthouse. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” Your arms were securely around his neck. He was still tense but much less before. You tried to look back down but he squeezed you tighter– he didn’t want you to see.

For tonight, he’d take care of you just like all those nights you took care of him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara imagine

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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

Text

Face to face

Din Djarin x f!Mandalorian!Reader

Summary: as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment

Tags: just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Din and Reader being insecure, they're sweethearts though and so in love, Din being a supporting husband <3, mandalorian customs are probably half-accurate but i did my best in research 😌

Word count: 3K

A/N: haiii guys!! long time no see 🤗 i had this idea ever since i watched s2 of the mandalorian almost a month ago and i'm finally done! thank you to all who stick around and i really hope you'll enjoy my first attempt at writing din (feel free to let me know what you think 🤭)! i love all of you darlings 🥰 and as always, happy reading!! 💕

Din Djarin wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he always wanted a family. The memories of his parents were hazy, but he remembered how much they loved each other and in the depths of his soul longed for a connection like this someday. Being the bounty hunter didn’t give many opportunities to look for a relationship, however, and with time he abandoned the hope for a place and people he could call home. He convinced himself that he was content being on his own.

But then the Child came along, and with it everything has changed. This little wrinkly womp rat became the most precious being in his life and Din was ready to die to protect Grogu – but he never expected that he’d also meet his future riduur because of the kid.

He did. You, a fellow Mandalorian Din spoke to only a couple of times in the hideout on Nevarro, decided to help him on his quest, and from this moment on he didn’t stand a chance. You were everything Djarin admired – brave, compassionate, skillful and kind – and though you both respected the Way of the Mandalore and never removed your helmets in each other’s presence, he knew in his soul that you were beautiful as well.

It was a long road to come to terms with what he felt for you and gather the courage to actually let you know it. But it was all worth it just for this moment when you exchanged your vows and he officially became yours, and you his. Now you were his riduur and he finally had every right to admire and cherish you like you deserved.

And most importantly, he could finally see you. The pair of you talked about this moment a lot during the nights spent on the Crest, tangling your fingers together when the ship was flooded with pitch-black darkness. Din used to whisper to you of his dreams, how he longed to run his eyes over your uncovered body, taking his time to commit to memory every little detail of your physique and expressions. You, with a giddy and wistful tone, told him how impatient you were to at last find out how his lips would feel on yours and what color his eyes were. Even when you both knew you were going to marry, you didn’t rush things and never removed your helmets until your union became official.

But you did see each other’s faces, once, though not in a conventional way. Din remembered it clearly as a day, though his eyes – as well as yours – were covered by a piece of a material the entire time. Both of you were desperate for each other that night, the tension hanging above your heads straining the resolve about waiting. And then came the moment when you didn’t fight it anymore. Instead, you both sat down on Din’s cot and without your sense of sight spent the next hour talking and trailing fingertips down each other’s faces.

Din reminisced about this moment a lot of times. He tried to remember the shape of your features to create a full picture of you in his mind while he laid alone in his bed, longing for your vicinity. Even if your bodies were separated only by the layers of beskar, it was still too far for him.

He didn’t have to wait any longer now.

It was the day of your wedding and Din Djarin never felt happier than in that moment when you recited Mandalorian vows and he got to touch your bare hand again, not covered by a glove, to put a custom-made ring on your finger. It wasn’t a necessary but he wanted to make this day memorable and meaningful for you. A few tears of joy were shed, but his face was still concealed by the helmet, allowing his emotions to take hold of him.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the small ceremony (if one could even call it that) ended, and you squeezed his palm every few steps as you walked toward a house that was going to be your home for the next couple of days. The Child was being taken care of by other Mandalorians so that you could be completely alone for this special moment.

You were buzzing with excited energy for the whole week prior to your wedding, but now Din could sense his partner’s nervousness. He wasn’t exactly surprised – after all, it has been years for both of you since anyone saw you without your helmet on. But with every moment that you neared the bedroom, you seemed more insular, more withdrawn and hesitant, and Din started to really worry.

“Are you okay, cyar’ika (darling)?”

You slowed down, not answering right away, which caused Din to furrow his brows with confusion. Maybe you didn’t want to do it after all? Maybe it was too sudden for you? Or maybe he came off as too eager?

“Cyar’ika,” he repeated softly, wanting to put you at ease – but it didn’t seem to meet the target. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. No, I’m ready. I just…”

You trailed off. Din wordlessly guided you to the edge of the bed, cradling your hands in his – one gloved one and one not. The light of the setting sun flowed in through the small window and reflected off the hard beskar you both wore, bathing your figure in a beautiful golden light.

He was already so in love with you. What could possibly be the cause of your hesitation?

“I’m just nervous,” you murmured at last with your head bowed, looking at your joined hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” the Mandalorian repeated before he could think, and shook his head slightly. “What are you… What are you talking about? Why would I ever be?”

You lifted your gaze, and though Din couldn’t see your eyes, he could almost feel the weight of your fears on his own shoulders. The modulator in your helmet was hiding any trace of it, but he knew you long enough to recognize the tiniest shift in your body language.

“Ner kar’ta (my heart). I could never be disappointed with you.” He laced his fingers with yours, once again admiring how perfectly they fit together, and lifted them to his chest. “You own my heart and soul now, and nothing will change that.”

He hoped to soothe your nerves, but you were still silent. It wasn’t at all what Mando was expecting from this evening and he was at a loss for what to do to fix it.

“Would it help if I showed you my face first?” he asked after some time, and your head snapped up.

“No.” Even with the modulator, your voice clearly sounded broken and regretful, and it was wounding Din more than anything else could. “We were supposed to do it together.”

“We can,” he assured quietly, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “But the most important thing to me… is for you to feel comfortable during it. If you want to wait–”

“I don’t.” You untangled your hands from his hold and instead brought them to his chest, placing them on the beskar breastplate. He couldn’t wait to take it off and feel your touch on his skin. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t marry you and make you my riduur.”

You leaned forward and lightly bonked your helmets together, a sweet gesture Din loved since the first time you did it.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum or’atu an mayen. (I love you more than anything.) More than life itself.”

“I know,” he answered simply and delicately brought your hands to the edges of his helmet. It was obvious what he was offering you. “That’s why I’m willing to do it for you.”

You were still, not daring to move, and Din nodded slightly to show you that he’s certain of his decision. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, though, and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck.

Showing your face to others was one of the worst crimes in Mandalorian culture, but doing it with your riduur was the highest honor that not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. But Din Djarin was among the lucky ones. Even though it was not in a way he always imagined, he didn’t care as long as you were happy.

You gripped the edges of his helmet tighter and a high hiss sounded, a telltale sign that the metal piece was ready to be removed. And slowly – so very slowly – you did. Din felt a flow of cooler air on his hot skin: first his chin, then his cheeks, finally his forehead…

And lastly, he inhaled shakily before lifting his head to look into the void of your visor.

A second passed by. Then two. Then ten, though Din felt like it must’ve been a full minute now. And still you didn’t move, just watched him silently, motionless as a statue.

The Mandalorian swallowed with difficulty, starting to feel very self-conscious. The crisp air cooled the sweat gathering on the nape of his neck and he had to use all his self-control not to fiddle his fingers nervously. He felt so naked and exposed under your gaze, though he absolutely shouldn’t – you were his riduur and there was no reason to feel ashamed or insecure with you. But he couldn’t help worrying: what if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you didn’t find him attractive at all?

Then a movement of your hands drew his attention and he watched, transfixed, as you slowly started to take off your glove, tugging one finger off at a time. Once your hand was freed from the confines of the protective material, you flexed your fingers before lifting both of your palms to his face.

Even though Din was acutely aware of your every move, he still somehow flinched in surprise at your touch, causing you to freeze and search his eyes with the air of concern around you. He quickly gave you a small nod, silently begging you to proceed, and, thankfully, you did. Your fingertips traced his cheeks, so delicately it almost tickled, brushing down the path to his stubble, and then back up to the arch of his nose and eyebrows. Djarin’s eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a shaky breath, giving in to the most amazing sensation that your touch was.

“I knew you had to be the most beautiful being in the galaxy,” you whispered from under your helmet with a voice filled with a plethora of raw emotions. Din regretted not being able to see your face at that moment, but if it would help you feel more comfortable in such a memorable and important situation, he was ready to do anything for you.

“I’m sure you’re a million times more radiant, cyar’ika,” he said back. His voice was weirdly weak and raspy, sounding strangely to him – probably because he knew there was another person hearing him without his helmet on. “Even if I don’t see your face, mesh’la (beautiful), today or ever… The love I have for you will never change or waver. That I promise.”

“It won’t exactly be fair to the Creed if I don’t remove my helmet in front of my husband,” you answered, half-teasing, but Din knew there was a real worry behind your words.

“You know very well there’s nothing said about it in the Creed.” He opened his eyes, offering you a small smile. “And I don’t remember our vows mentioning it, either.”

You clicked your tongue with exasperation, but Din also saw your shoulders relaxing, a sign that some of your nerves ebbed away.

“Gev bic (stop it),” you laughed, letting your hand fall down – but before it could happen, Din caught your wrist and lifted it back to his face. He slowly kissed the inside of your palm, down to the veins disappearing under your sleeve, his eyes fixated on your visor the entire time. His smile grew slightly when he felt a shiver run through you.

“I love you, ner kar’ta,” he whispered. “Even if you’re a half-Hutt under your armor.”

“Don’t push it.”

You let go of his hand and Din’s face fell, fearing that he really went too far. He reached for you but stopped when you straightened up and took a deep breath, your hands going to the last thing that separated you from him – your helmet.

He held his breath and his heart beat erratically as he watched you. He tried not to blink, not wanting to miss the moment when he finally got to see your face. Just the fact that you were willing to do this meant so much to him, but…

Slowly, you took your helmet off and placed it down on the mattress right next to his. Then, a pair of irises gazed into the depths of Din Djarin’s heart.

…you were wrong.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was no mistaking it that you were by far the most breathtaking sight the Mandalorian had ever laid his eyes on.

The Maker must’ve been overly generous, or maybe favored you, for looking at you… it felt like coming home.

You stared at him with gentle, tentative eyes of the most beautiful color in the world, and Din would’ve gladly lost himself in them. Your lips, so tempting and soft-looking, were parted slightly as you awaited his reaction, but he couldn’t move. He just watched, spellbound, and wondered if this truly is reality and not some cruel, elusive dream.

He hadn’t felt such awe even when he saw Grogu doing his magic for the first time. Hadn’t felt such elation even when a new skin made of beskar was forged just for him. Had never before felt such love in his life.

You were a wonder. A miracle.

“Cyare?”

Your voice sounded almost fearful to your ears, but you couldn’t help it – Din seemed unable to utter even a word, and panic started to flood your veins when you noticed tears gathering in his dark, beautiful eyes. “Din–”

But before you could move away, he slipped off the bed and knelt by your feet. You were so taken aback by this action that you didn’t even react when he cradled both of your hands in his and pressed lingering kisses to your fingers, one after another.

“If I could, I’d marry you all over again,” he rasped, meeting your gaze with so much love and adoration in his brown eyes that it took your breath away. “How did I get so lucky…?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you let out a breathless laugh of relief, your pupils darting across the lines and grooves of his face. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cyar’ika, look at me.” He gently tilted your chin up, making your eyes meet his. For a second he faltered, parting his lips in wonder at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, before he swallowed and gazed at you again. “Do you doubt my words?”

No. There was really no questioning his motives. You knew Din was as honest as one could be and there were only your own insecurities at play here. But the longer you looked at him, his expression so full of love and devotion, the less relevant your own doubts were becoming.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whispered instead of answering, and his face broke into a wide, joyous grin. “Can I–?”

The Mandalorian didn’t even wait for you to finish – the second those words left your mouth, he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours forcefully, eliciting a surprised sound out of you, which soon turned into a needy whimper. You didn’t give him a chance to back away and instantly tangled your fingers into his hair, moving clumsily to be closer to him.

But when you attempted to climb onto his lap, your breast plates collided with a metallic clank, forcing the pair of you to put some space between you. Din huffed with frustration, while you laughed and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’re quite impatient for a bounty hunter,” you accused him playfully, nudging your nose with his. You took a deep, calming breath, wanting to surround yourself with the smell of him completely, but your riduur didn’t let you indulge for long.

He moved quickly and, without a warning, kissed you briefly again – and then one more time. It was more like a light peck, and you longed to feel his tongue inside your mouth once more, but at the same time relished in every sensation that his lips brought. Every touch he gave you was something infinitely precious.

“I’ve waited longer than you,” he murmured. His hands were already moving, taking off the beskar on his forearms and shoulders, reaching where he could without removing you from his lap just yet. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, cyar’ika.”

You smiled widely and looked up from his deft fingers to throw another teasing comment, but in one second you lost your train of thoughts.

Because Din was blushing.

The feared Mandalorian’s face – a face you were finally allowed to see whenever you desired – was sprinkled with redness across his cheeks and ears. And you were the cause of that.

The thought of it almost caused your eyes to water.

“What are you looking at, mesh’la?”

Your eyes found him again and you smiled brightly, causing Din’s heart to skip a couple of beats.

You took his stubbly chin in-between your fingers and brought his lips closer, planting a soft kiss there that had the Mandalorian melting. He covered your hand with his, feeling the band on your finger under his own.

A miracle.

“I’m looking at you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fic #this man needs to be PRAISED he needs to be LOVED and CHERISHED !!!!!#imagine having pedro pascal's face and still being insecure 😔 /j

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4ngel-inc · 5 months

Text

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓐 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮

notes: mdni. fem reader. fluff & smut. it's your first, second, and third dates + dazai goes down on you. ꪆ୧

warnings: this is the longest thing i've ever written (3k) but dazai has my whole heart in his hands, help i'm just in love ʚ ɞ

𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕯𝖆𝖙𝖊 — THE DARK AGE. ࿐

you weren't expecting to walk in on a very suspicious-sounding conversation that night between three handsome strangers when you walked into lupin. you were mostly expecting it to be empty, possibly a lovesick couple making out in the corner somewhere, hiding their affair from their respective husband and wife—no doubt. that was the norm.

however, that night was different. did you know you were walking toward something that would consume you for the rest of your life? difficult to say. but something was different, you tasted it in the air. it lingered in the stale atmosphere of the bar that suddenly smelled of lavender and cherry blossoms when you laid your eyes upon him—osamu dazai. a man more beautiful than you could've rendered in your own imagination.

your confusion at the three (admittedly stunning) men occupying the space you normally sat in, likely showed on your face—and your perfume and the light clicking of your heels surely caught their attention as well, the three of them turning to you as the bell over the hidden entryway clinged and you descended the staircase fully.

they were all so handsome. but you still couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something about him—the way his eyes lingered on your body before settling to lock with yours made your stomach twist. neither of you looked away, though the situation was awkward at best—was this your heart telling you it knew, before you even did?

a few hours later and everyone else in the bar had drifted away, only you and dazai remaining. only the two of you in the world—that was how it felt. neither of you had a single sip to drink from the moment you walked in, too drunk off one another. you'd sat down next to him and started talking, and somehow, in the sea of intoxication the two of you were drowning in, hours had passed in a matter of seconds.

"who are you?" he asked in that deep, sultry voice that had you reeling. he knew your name—you'd told him hours ago. but he wanted to know more—he wanted to know what really made you, you.

"who do you think i am?" you smirked as you placed a gentle kiss on his neck.

"someone who wants to ruin my life," he laughed as he struggled and failed to hold back a needy groan, your lips feeling like heaven against the pulse of his neck.

you laughed at that, "now, why would i want to do that?"

your arms wrapped tighter around his neck as his hands squeezed your waist, grinding your hips against his ever so slightly, not enough to cross a line, but enough to show his desire. at some point you'd found yourself straddling him as he sat on the bar stool, facing away from the bar, your heels abandoned on the bar floor as the sleek pantyhose covering your toes glided smoothly against his clothed calves.

his eyes were half lidded as he groaned, your hands running through his hair exactly what he needed after another brutal day working for the mafia. the killing, the carnage—it was nothing and sometimes, all at once, it was too much. but in that moment, your soft touch was like an oasis to him.

"why do you want to die?"

"what's the purpose of living?" his answers matched yours in speed and wit, something you hadn't expected.

"to make people's lives better."

his eyes met yours again as his hands slid up your back, eyes lidded and fingers barely grazing your skin as he inadvertently lifted your shirt slightly with the tips of his fingers. his delicate touch felt like it was burning you—this was moving too fast, you knew it. this was dangerous, but you wanted more.

"you think you can make my life better?" he asked ironically, clearly doubting your logic. "you can't save me, angel."

"i don't want to."

"what do you want?"

"there are things worth living for."

"and you think you're one of those things?"

"no, but love is."

"everything i've ever loved has been taken from me."

your heart hurt at that—and the moment you pressed your lips to his, a gentle kiss that sought to cradle his soul turned needy and desperate. everything felt right, nothing had ever felt more right.

pulling away moments later, both entirely too breathless and desperate for a one night stand, you sought to penetrate the scarred exterior, to unveil his true intentions— "who are you, osamu dazai?"

"i guess you'll have to wait and see, princess."

𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝕯𝖆𝖙𝖊 — SOMETHING WORTH LIVING FOR. ࿐

maybe you were manic. . . maybe you were making things out to be more than they were. you'd been known to be a fool for love, but this felt different. osamu felt like someone you could trust.

but naturally, hadn't all the others felt the same way in the past? it was difficult to find something worth living for, he'd told you that. you'd kept your own pessimistic confession from leaving your lips the moment you'd heard his—you felt the same. but somehow, you felt differently. you wanted to live. osamu didn't.

but there was just something about osamu you couldn't explain—something you couldn't understand. and despite the way the gears were turning in your mind, your analytical brain fighting against your heart to find some logical reason why you felt so infatuated with him so early on—someone you weren't even sure would be around much longer (you'd deduced he was in a dangerous trade, that much was clear, though he hadn't told you yet)—you didn't want to solve the mystery that was osamu dazai. you wanted to float in the warm, safe abyss of ignorance and the euphoria that had you feeling lighter than air.

each time his name popped up on your phone had your heart singing—you hated it, in a way. it was a recipe for disaster. heartbreak would surely find its way to you soon. osamu was dangerous—not only in the way he lived, but in the way he made you feel.

your heart felt so vulnerable. so weak. so fragile. you felt like you would crack at any moment, and just like that—your feelings would consume you. the same way they always had in the past before disappointment inevitably struck you like lightning, crippling you and tearing away any hope you'd ever find someone who matched you.

things had gotten a little heated between you two on your first "date," if you could even call it that. but you hadn't let things go too far—you wanted to know more about dazai before you committed your body and heart to him. would he even be comfortable sharing anything about his life? about his past? about his job?

you checked your makeup one last time in the mirror, ensuring your lips were perfectly lined, a natural shade paired with the casual look you were sporting—a touch of mascara to give a different impression than you had last time—last time you saw him, you'd been tired and exhausted from work, your full makeup and sleepy, dreamy flirtiness giving a different vibe than you normally did.

osamu had suggested a walk for your second date. you were a little surprised, judging from the suit he wore the night you'd met him—you expected him to plan an elaborate date at some fancy restaurant and take you out for a night on the town. you were grateful he suggested something you were more accustomed to, something a little closer to your comfort zone.

you grabbed your bag and tucked your gloss in the back pocket of your jeans, a comfortable solid-colored tee tucked into your belt, a suitable pairing to the tennis shoes you laced yourself into.

as you grabbed your coat, the insecurities began sinking in—what if i'm not what he's expecting?

you'd been a little too forward the night you met him, naively swept up in his good looks and charm. you were wondering if his interest would hold once he realized how. . . normal your life was. surely, it was a little more dull than his.

however, the way you got lost in each other's eyes that night, made you feel a little safer in opening your heart to him. was this really only the second time you were meeting?

you probably talked a little more than you should have—but dazai seemed to get lost in the way your words flowed, listening intently with soft eyes as he drank up every word that left your lips, autumn leaves falling gently one after the other as they brushed the two of you intermittently, one last time as the chilly air wrapped around you both, winter quickly on its way.

"what makes you happy?"

he looked confused at your question, contemplating his answer briefly before turning toward you, pulling at the lapel of your jacket and wrapping it tighter around you, tucking your scarf back into it.

"i had a friend once, spending time with him was the closest thing i've ever found to happiness."

the way his voice trailed off at the end left you feeling sad and lonely—feelings you picked up from the tone of his voice. you weren't sure if you should press the subject, but the smile that traced his lips involuntarily as he spoke about this mysterious friend, told you he wouldn't mind.

"what was he like? or she?"

his eyes flashed a trace of appreciation at your words, grateful you'd even asked. no one had ever wanted to know more about his life. and surprisingly, he finally seemed eager to fill the space between the two of you with his own words.

"he was the kindest person i've met." he was staring at the ground now, "although, if you pissed him off, you were in for it." he laughed at that last part, and it was enough to have you laughing with him.

his eyes seemed sad now, and you figured it was time to change the subject.

"i love autumn." your eyes followed the trees surrounding you up to their canopies, in awe of all of the beautiful, natural creation around you. it was almost like the two of you were trapped in a masterful painting—you never wanted to escape.

"i think i do too, now." he pulled you in and brushed your hair behind your ear, leaning closer as your lips just barely grazed, his dark eyes staring down at you. "i wish i could see things the way you do—wish i could see the beauty in life."

"i'll show you."

"you can't fix me."

"you aren't broken, just lost."

"find me, then."

"i will." his delicate kiss soon turned needy, his tongue testing the waters as he cradled the back of your head. just the same as the first you'd shared in the bar—it felt electric. his hands pulled you as closely as possible, the threat that you'll leave seeming to haunt all of his gentle touches.

i hope you do.

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝕯𝖆𝖙𝖊 — JUST A LITTLE TASTE. ࿐

"i knew you wanted to ruin my life," he laughed against your lips. you'd been teasing him for the past hour, all of your soft touches and warm breaths against his neck leaving him whining against your lips—he hated how needy he was for you already, but not enough to stop your hands from exploring every inch of his body, bandages doing little to resist the heat of your skin on his.

he was hard and leaking for you—attempting and failing to resist falling into you even more. osamu didn't remember the last time he'd felt this wanted. he couldn't think of anything but your body as he pulled away from you, settling on the floor in front of you, your back pressed against the couch.

"stop." he kissed your wrists one at a time, stopping your hands from reaching out for him, attempting to pull him back in for more kisses. he placed a gentle hand on your stomach, encouraging you to relax and let him take the lead as your hands found their way into his hair.

"i want you," you whined, "so much."

"the feeling is mutual," he smirked.

as he pushed your legs back, your pussy on full display for him, you could only think to yourself—troublemaker. that's what osamu was—but only in the best way. he tore down your walls and ripped you out of your comfort zone, only to build new ones around you that made you feel even safer than before.

how it was possible to trust him with your whole heart after only just meeting him, you could never explain. but you were no longer interested in fighting your feelings, you couldn't deny your heart. you wanted him—all of him.

"fuck me, please." your voice was broken and desperate, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes from how much you wanted him.

"not yet."

the disappointment in your eyes faded as his pretty fingers spread your folds, a moan escaping his lips when he noticed how wet you were, a string of your slick caught between your lips. he was sure the taste of you could make him fall even more in love—the way your body responded to him, almost like it was meant for him. you were meant for him.

"mind if i have a little taste?" the look in his eyes was devious and lustful, and your nod of affirmation desperate and frantic, hands in his hair pulling him closer to your cunt.

his tongue darted out to kitten lick your clit just once, before pulling away to savor the taste.

"osamu, please—don't tease me."

"what do you mean, pretty girl? i'm just enjoying myself."

his hot breath against you was enough to have your eyes rolling back, practically screaming when his lips finally wrapped around your clit, sucking softly before letting the wet nub slowly slip from his mouth, a mixture of his spit and your slick making it glisten in the candlelight as he admired your pussy, his gaze soft and intriguing.

your moans turned needy as he continued to lick gently at your clit, pulling back every so often to spread your lips more and expose the sensitive little nub that insisted on hiding from him, his tongue hard against it as he picked up the pace, firm licks setting the perfect rhythm to make you cum quickly.

"'your tongue- feels- so good. . ."

"hm, is that so?"

he pulled away only for a brief moment before diving back in, intent on making you cum before he fucked and satisfied your desperate, sensitive little pussy. it'd been entirely too long since he'd fucked a pretty girl like you. something foreign took over him as he groaned and whimpered and whined against your pussy, seemingly more desperate than you were to make you cum.

"i'm gonna come soon. . . don't stop, baby. don't stop. . ."

you came only a moment later, a wave of your slick gushing from your quivering hole as he slid a finger in, eager to feel the powerful waves of your orgasm as your pussy squeezed his fingers. he devoured your pussy after you came, licking and sucking everywhere he could find, playing with your lips and pressing gentle, careful kisses to your clit, still twitching from such a high-octane orgasm.

as your breathing settled, a burning desire grew in your stomach. "'samu, come here. . ." you grabbed his hand, trading places with him on the couch, settling on your knees as they found their home on the soft carpet. your hands found their way to his thighs, spreading his legs as your eyes landed on his cock and balls, pretty veins decorating the shaft and making your mouth water. he was lightly trimmed, head pink and leaking and firm. the way his cock jumped before you even touched him, your hands simply running gently up his thighs before squeezing his hips, told you he was painfully awaiting your touch. even so, he seemed hesitant.

"aww, you don't have to angel—only if you really want to."

so that was it. he didn't think he deserved you—didn't think he deserved your touch. he slid his fingers through your hair before resting them on your chin, admiring your beauty and all of your pretty features—his gaze tender and loving as something swelled in his heart. it was more than he deserved.

despite his doubts, your lips wrapped around his cock had every thought leaving his mind, only a few remnants of his existence still floating around in his conscience. the tip of his cock was so sensitive from hours of waiting for your pussy, his thighs quivering each time you slid your tongue over the cute little vein on the underside of his cock. it was enough to have any cohesive thought pattern fade away.

as he gave into you entirely, head rolling back as small puffs of air left his lips each time you slid his cock deeper in your throat, your name, your body, the way you touched him, the way you wanted him—were the only things on his mind.

he wanted you close. he never wanted to let you go—for the rest of his life, he wanted to stay in this warm glow with you.

save me from myself, angel. give me something to live for.

#— love notes: [dazai] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai fluff #dazai smut #bsd smut

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bandgie · 6 months

Note

I need a part two to that choking channie fic pleasseeee I begggggg

a/n: it's been a week and I cannot come up with the plot for the life of me. but imma write and see where it takes me :p (part 1)

warnings: MDNI 18+, confessions and sex ya know

3.2k words

You have to bite on your lips to keep yourself from smiling. The green-haired man looks like he's seen a ghost as he spots Chris's neck covered in bruises. They're not pretty ones either, mixes of purple and black wrapped like a necklace around his throat.

"A fight with who?" Felix leans forward in his seat as he hears Chris's explanation.

"Some dude just jumped me I dunno," Chris looks down and awkwardly rubs his neck. "Tried taking my wallet."

You take a sip of your drink, trying to do anything as a distraction to keep from laughing. The tip of Chris's ears are red, his lips are shiny from how many times he's licked them, and he can't stop fiddling with his hands. All clear signs that he's lying, or that something's up at the very least. However, it was just Felix who joined you two at the cafe, and he was none the wiser.

Chris and you were supposed to talk about the other night. If it was a drunken mistake or a heat-in-the-moment decision. Felix, god bless his soul, invited himself. Even if his presence wasn't needed, or even wanted, it felt good to have someone familiar with you two. It made the atmosphere lighter rather than discussing sex like a business meeting.

Felix sips on his sugary drink and places the cup down. "Did you call the police?"

"I uhh," Chris's eyes briefly meet yours then back to Felix. "I didn't. I was trying to get out of there."

"Do you remember what he looks like?" His friend can't help but try and pry for more information. "Maybe they could make a sketch or something." You can't help but smile at Felix's persistence. Chris keeps sneaking you looks as a way to ask for help, but you like watching him struggle.

"It was dark." Now that's a good excuse. "Couldn't see a whole lot. And honestly, I don't wanna remember it, freaks me out ya know?"

Felix nods rapidly, understanding. "No, I get it. I don't think I would ever be able to leave my house again. I'm sorry that happened to you, man. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

Chris nods and thanks his friend, a pink shade over his cheeks.

It's not until an hour later that Felix takes his leave. He thanks you both for the company and heads out the door, leaving you two. You erupt into giggles the moment Felix is out of view. "What kind of thief chokes someone like that?"

Chris smiles bashfully, eyes twinkling in a mixture of delight and embarrassment. "I panicked! What else was I supposed to say?" This makes you laugh more, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I dunno! Maybe the truth?"

Your suggestion makes Chris choke on his coffee. He coughs and reaches for a napkin, dabbing his face. "Fuck no. I'd rather die." He clears his throat and sets the used tissue aside. "I don't think you'd be cool with me telling everyone what we did."

What we did. He makes his sound so scandalous, so wrong. A secret meant for the two of you. And he's right, that's something you wouldn't want to share. Memories flood in from that night, how his skin felt underneath your fingertips and how soft his lips were. You have to force yourself to reach for your drink and take a gulp. The ice numbs your hands for a moment, a stark contrast to how hot Chris felt that night.

"That's fair. Plus I don't think they'd wanna know how you creamed your pants." You say, putting the drink down. Chris's eyes nearly pop from their socket. He covers his face with his hands and groans, "Don't remind me."

His reactions amuse you, and you smile mischievously. "Nah, I think I will. Weren't you begging to cum inside me? Something like 'I don't wanna cum in my pants! You. I wanna cum in you.' No?"

Chris makes a strangled noise, half-shamed and half a warning. "There are people here." You sigh, finally deciding to grant Chris a break. There's a tense silence that hangs over you two. Reciting Chris's desperate moments reminds you of why you've come to the cafe.

His confession.

Fuck, it would be so much easier if Felix just stayed. Neither of you would have to talk about it today, or if at all. Maybe you could just go back to your normal lives where everyone's friends, and nothing more. It's better to live in blissful ignorance than face reality, but it would only be a matter of time before that facade would break.

You clear your throat, "Did you mean it?"

Chris keeps his eyes on his drink playing with the lid, "Mean what?"

"That you love me."

He pops the lid off from the pressure. His hands shakily grab it and place it on the cup, snapping it back into place. "Of course I do. I always tell you that."

Now he's just playing dumb. Rather than seeming shy only minutes ago, there's a nervous air around him. He's unsure of himself and of what you might think. Chris regrets ever opening his mouth, he regrets playing that stupid game.

At the same time, he's glad he did. All those sleepless nights thinking of you changed from physical to something more. Something intimate in ways he didn't dare think about. He doesn't dream of your violent hold, he dreams of your soft one. Not the way your hands wrap around his neck, but how they could intertwine with his hands.

You sigh again, shaking your head. "Chan, that's not the type of love I'm talking about. Can you be honest with me? Please?"

How can he say no to that? Chris finally looks up at you. He wiggles in his seat as if his uncomfortable state comes from his seating position. He opens his mouth and closes it again. He sighs and attempts again, but all that comes out are small squeaks and groans.

Lie. He can hear his insecurity talking. Both of you were drinking, it was just a mistake.

"I..."

Even if it wasn't, would she really be okay being with a friend? What if she grows bored of me? What if I have nothing to give other than my body?

That can't be true. Why else would you be here? Sitting patiently, watching Chris struggle internally with himself. There's no judgment on your face, no anger or disgust as you wait. If you didn't want to know Chris's true feelings, you wouldn't have asked in the first place.

"Honestly, I've loved you for a long time now." He said it. There, he did it. His heart beats quickly in his chest, it feels like it might explode. Chris needs to spit it out before his adrenaline runs out. "I don't know when I don't think there was like...a specific moment when I knew. But I know now, and I just...really really love you. Like a lot. I'm sorry that…" he takes a breath. "I'm sorry that you found out so...weirdly. But yeah... So yeah. Sorry"

You blink a few times, trying to remember how to speak. "Don't," you shake your head. "Don't be sorry. It was a little weird finding out that way, but it's nothing to apologize for. I never thought you'd think of me that way."

Chris cocks his head to the side, "Why not?"

Being put on the spot makes your stomach churn, but it's only fair you experience the same feeling Chris did moments ago. "Oh, you know. I'm just me." You play with the near-empty cup in your hands. "I don't think there's much to me. I just don't get why someone like you would be interested."

"Someone like me?"

"Yeah," you sit up straighter in your seat. "You're so...beautiful. Inside and out." Chris squirms from the compliment, but it makes you smile. "You are! Chan, you really are. I don't think you get how good of a person you are. Knowing that a soul like yours likes mine is unbelievable."

Chris can't take the consistent praise. He turns red, "What kind of a good person likes being choked?"

You throw your head back and laugh, thankful for the comedic break in tension. "Hey, I never said you weren't a freak." Chris returns the laugh, his eyes mirroring moon crescents as he smiles at you. It feels good, even if you wanted to run and hide in the beginning, to be open with him. Someone you've befriended for years, someone you trust.

Someone who could quite possibly be your lover.

"But seriously," you go back to your serious tone. "You are...amazing."

You can tell Chris wants to deflect, to tell you that you're wrong. But he silences his nagging voice and nods, "Thank you. You're not too bad yourself."

"Ah, I'd hope not," you beam at him. "So when are you gonna ask me out?"

The sudden boldness makes Chris jump, a nervous laugh escaping him. "I...You want me to?" He's surprised to see you look excited as you nod, biting your lower lip, "Yup." You add on after a few beats. "To turn you down of course."

He laughs again, though it's more relaxed. "Guess I have no choice then." Chris chews on his lower lip, debating on how to begin.

He decides to start with your name. "...Will you be my girlfriend now until the unseeable future?"

You giggle at his dramatization, "Absolutely. You still want to cum inside me?"

"Oh absolutely."

ꨄꨄꨄ

Neither of you make it back to his place. All it took was Chris to place his hand on your thigh and it was over. He had pulled over somewhere on the side with no lights before turning the car off. The sound of the engine dying was replaced by the wet sound of your lips meeting.

You don't think there's any way you could get over how nice Chris feels against you. Even if the backseat is crowded, it only creates the golden opportunity to be flush against his broad chest. the position is familiar with you on top, but everything feels entirely different.

Chris isn't scared to touch you this time, he doesn't hold back moaning into your mouth when you grind on his cock, and he absolutely cannot shut up about how much he's wanted this.

"If you make me cum my pants again, I think imma lose it." His hips buck into yours to chase the pressure. You decide that you don't want that either and lift your hips just enough for Chris to shimmy his pants down and pull his cock from his boxers.

It's already dripping, red at the tip, and twitching uncontrollably. He gives himself a few pumps, but you quickly smack his hand away almost offendedly.

"That's my job," you huff. Chris only smiles when you look down to dribble spit on his cock, grabbing the base before stroking it upwards. His smile falters into a look of pleasure, eyebrows knitting together. He groans when you slide your thumb over his slit, collecting his early release.

Your hips mimic your hand movements as if you're riding him. The desire pooling in your stomach stains your underwear and leaks down your thighs. You can't help yourself as you bring the head of his cock to your clothed core, tapping it against your cunt.

Chris's arousal leaves wet strings where his cock and your cunt meet. He gives your lips a final kiss before looking down at your soiled underwear and his flushed dick. "Fuck," he moans. "That's so hot. How wet are you?"

Rather than telling him, you pull your underwear to the side to show. The interior lights of the car show your glistening cunt, how your pussy's swollen and dripping. Chris groans at the sight, moving a hand from your waist to touch you. He rubs his fingers in circles and dips them down, collecting your arousal and smearing it on your engorged clit.

"I'm so wet," you finally answer in a breathy voice. "I need it in me bad." Chris lifts his head to meet your eyes darkened in arousal. His lips quirked upwards in a smirk, "Yeah? How bad?" You place his tip onto your bare cunt, sliding his fat head up and down yourself. "Don't make me beg," you tut. "That's your job."

Chris laughs and nods, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're right. Let me feel that pretty pussy baby."

You kiss him back in response, keeping your lips lazily on his as your guide his cock low enough to catch your entrance. You angle your hips higher and slowly sink down. Chris rubs soothing circles on your clit to help with the stretch. He knows his cock can be rather unbearable in the beginning.

But it feels so good to have him open you up. Even if it leaves a slight burning sensation in your pussy, you like fucking yourself with just his tip. If you're not careful, you could cum just like this. It would be easier, just clenching around his head and letting his hand play with your folds. But the thought of creaming around his entire length encourages you to sink further down.

Chris's hand falters at your cunt. He closes his eyes and sighs as you take more inches of him. He moans and tilts his head back, shivering when you've fully seated on him.

His exposed bruised neck sends shivers down your spine. It's like he's begging for you to mark him more, to put his entire self in your hands. Your hands trail up to his torso, his chest, before reaching his throat. You can not only see but feel how his breath catches in his throat. He peeks an eye open to see what you'll do.

Against your better judgment, you tighten your grip around his neck as you pick your hips up. His girth slides out of you a few inches more sliding back down. Chris's throat acts as leverage as you fuck yourself on him.

He hums under you, making your fingers vibrate. His hands grip the fat of your ass, squeezing and trying to get you to ride faster. "Fuck me baby," he grunts out. "Use my cock." Chris's raspy voice sends shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you pick up your pace. Hips slamming on his in wet consecutive slaps as you fuck yourself on him. A particular thrust of Chris makes you whine. He hit the deepest parts of you roughly, a tingling sensation spreading throughout your lower half.

"Fuck," you gasp out. One of your hands moves down to his shoulder for better grip. You lean back slightly to force Chris's length to hit that gummy spot you swear has your pussy seeing stars.

The material of your shirt does little to conceal your breasts that bounce beneath. Chris's eyes lock onto the sight, and he moves his hands from your waist to underneath your bra. His fingers find your pebbled nipple easily and he tugs at it.

Your hips still for a moment as he gives attention to your chest and he takes this opportunity to fuck up into you harder.

Chris quickly grabs the bottom of your shirt and lifts it to your mouth.

"Bite."

You obey immediately, and Chris goes to work spilling your tits from your bra. He watches as your mounds move with the motion of your hips. You can see his tongue poke out hungrily, but he makes no move to bury his face in your chest. It doesn't take a genius to find out why though, and you finally release his neck from your grip to reach for the headrest from the front.

Chris's lips instantly find your tits, tongue licking and swirling around your bud. His hands return to your hips and he leans forward to get better access to where you both connect. You can hear him panting just below your chin, the grunts and groans as he holds your nipple between his teeth.

Your legs wrap around his lower back now that they have room to move, and you bring him closer.

"Imma cum," it's a muffled, weak voice you announce in, but Chris only finds it endearing. He pops off your breasts with a wet smack! and looks up at you, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fat cock?" You nod mindlessly, the hand on his shoulder reaching up to pull on his hair. "You promith to cum in me Chan? Pleath I need you to cum inthide me."

Chris laughs at your slurred, muffled speech, "Of course, I promise baby." To make a point, he starts lifting your weight off his cock before slamming you back down. You cunt quivers and drools over him and the car, but you only spread your legs more to give him a better entrance.

Now that Chris can use you like a fleshlight properly, you trail your hand from the back of his head to your dipping folds to rub and flick. He feels your walls squeeze from your ministrations, and he moans in your neck. You have to keep your back arched so it doesn't hit the middle console, but Chris does most of the work by keeping you somewhat upright.

"Gonna cum in your tight pussy. Mmm, gonna give it to you all."

His announcement makes you tighten around him, your pussy locking him in so nothing drips out. "Fuck yesh," you bite into your shirt harder in anticipation. The increasing tingling sensation builds into warmth pooling your belly. All you can feel is constant pressure and how your shirt has started collecting your drool.

Your legs snap against Chris's waist and your hips try to escape his relentless thrusts when you cum. It's overwhelming and blinding, but Chris keeps a harsh grip on your hips when you try to twist away. You can't even play with your clit from how sensitive you got, and you use that wet hand to push against his chest.

The material between your teeth falls, and you hear Chris tsk in feigning disappointment. It takes too much energy to even speak, let alone hold something between your teeth. All you can manage are breathless moans and pathetic mewls.

Chris's own high isn't too far behind you. He groans at the hotness in your cunt, the way he can feel your orgasm leaking onto his cock. Your walls are unbelievably soft and slick. Relaxed enough to let Chris fuck you as he pleases while maintaining a tight embrace that he pumps his cum in.

His arousal floods your pussy along with consecutive moans. His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he stills his hips. Chris's deep grunts combined with his high-pitched squeaks make you whine in return.

Then he pumps slowly but with harsh thrusts. It makes your body jolt and tighten, shivering from his warm cum and how he fucks it deeper inside of you. Chris lifts his head to look at your drooly lips, then your hazy eyes.

He hums with satisfaction at your fucked out expression and kisses you passionately. It's a stark contrast to his cock that's pouring his seed into you relentlessly. Your lips cave and your head falls slightly back from the weight of the kiss.

Chris licks alongside your bottom lip, mixing your salvias'. He wants to ensure he shares every part of himself with you. Down to the spit he mingles in your mouth to the sticky slick between your thighs. A reminder that he's yours, and you're his.

Now, until the unseeable future.

a/n: if you read this then I love you and I really wanna give you head jkjkfj but here's the 2nd part hope ya liked iittttt

468 notes · View notes

margotw10bis · 6 months

Text

Blank Pages. JJK [m]

bestfriend!jungkook x reader

Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; non-idol!jk; f2l

Words: 8k

Synopsis: You have a secret: you're a popular writer on Wattpad. The worst thing that could happen is your best friend Jungkook to discover that your erotic novels are about him...

Warning: protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); writing of sex scenes

JK was pounding into me at an animalistic pace. I couldn't help screaming his name due to the overstimulation of the three precedent orgasms. His grip around my hips tightened as he was reaching his high. A few more dick strokes were provided before I could feel his hot shots of cum inside my pussy.

It didn't take long for the both of us to fall asleep, exhausted by the intense sex ride.

Your cheeks are red when you finish posting the new chapter of your story on your Wattpad account. Vivid images of the imaginary roll in the hay fill your brain — and your panties with wetness. You always feel the same after writing a sex scene starring your best friend: horny and guilty. You can't imagine how Jungkook would react if he knew he was the main character of a popular erotic online novel... You would die of embarrassment, knowing your best friend, whom you are madly in love with, had discovered your deepest sexual fantasies — featuring him. On the other hand, writing those filthy stories is your way to control both your feelings and your desires. Jungkook is your best friend, you can't risk your friendship.

You didn't have any thoughts other than trying to contain your sexual attraction for him when you created your Wattpad account. You had never thought that so many people would read your stories. You can't deny that you feel kind of proud that people love your writings but you also feel horrified that so many strangers are fantasying — and obviously masturbating — on your best friend. You are so glad that you kind of anonymized him by using his nickname JK. You mean, people could think it stands for Jin-Keon, right?

Just as if you needed some reminder that your writing is nothing but fiction, your phone screen brights up to notify a new message from the very same Jungkook.

'Hi, buddy! We're going to the club with the guys, wanna join?'

You hate so much when Jungkook calls you 'buddy'. It's so far away from the nicknames you wish he'd give you. In your stories, JK always uses 'baby', 'babe', sweetheart' and this is what you want... Not a stupid 'buddy' like you were his classmate in sixth grade!

You growl in frustration and answer that you're too tired and you're just going to bed. Your best friend replies that he is disappointed not to see you tonight and you hate how your weak stupid heart melts at that. You are also disappointed not to see him tonight or every single day of your life. You wish you could go home after work and know that Jungkook is waiting for you before heading to bed, together. You know damn well those are silly thoughts and maybe that's why they hurt so much. They are too far away from reality.

As you think.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You hum, half-asleep as you feel something moving against you. You tighten your arms around the thing next to you to keep it still. However, it moves again to softly caress your hair.

"Y/N, let's go to bed" A whispered voice says

You lowly growl and bury your face deeper into the thing you're hugging. If you weren't in this sleepy state, you could notice that what you have in your arms is actually Jungkook. He doesn't really mind and it's not the first time your movie night ends up with you falling asleep. He'd just let you gradually collapse on him because he knows you always feel cold when you are sleeping. So he is happy to provide some warmth while you're visiting Morpheus' world. He even rested his arm around your shoulders to be a little more comfortable to watch the end of the movie — and enjoying this excuse to hug you.

But now, the film has ended and the couch is not the best place for a full night of slumber. Jungkook sighs when he accepts the fact that you just won't wake up. He tries, as gently as he can, to stand up and lifts you up in his arms. He pushes his bedroom door open with his foot, which causes him to almost loose balance. Finally, his mission is a success when he lands you on his bed without waking you. He smiles softly as he looks at you. He wonders what you are dreaming about right now. Are you having nightmares because of the horror movie? Or are you in a happy place full of your loved ones? He hopes for the latest.

He heads to the bathroom, brushes his teeth and joins you in bed. He knows you don't bother sleeping with him — it's not the first time either. And honestly, if he knew your feelings for him, he could be even more aware of how poorly you care. He makes sure the covers are tightly wrapped around you and scoots closer to hug you. He likes how your smaller body fits in his embrace — it's way better than his usual pillow. He gives you a small peck on the top of your hair and follows you in dreamland.

The sunlight coming through the unwell closed curtains wakes you up. You're surprised not to feel cold as usual in the morning. You want to lift your hand to rub your swollen eyes but you can't: something, or more like someone is completely wrapped around you. Your eyes snap open when you realize it's Jungkook. You turn your head and your heart melts at the sight: his sleepy face is so cute, especially with his pouty lips. You're close enough to clearly see his scar on the cheek as well as the little molds on his nose and under his lower lip. You wish you could taste its softness. You move carefully to free one arm and you caress your best friend's hair as softly as you can to not wake him up. You almost moan when you feel how silky it is underneath your fingertips. God, Jungkook is so perfect that it hurts to look at him.

Your heart beats fast in your chest due to the proximity but it suddenly stops when Jungkook, in his sleepless, presses you closer against his body. And then, you feel it. As clear as day. His morning wood. It stands hard against your lower belly and you gulp. Does your saliva drive straight to your pussy? Because your panties are now soaked. Oh god, Jungkook's cock is pressed against you and you love it. All kind of sinful scenarios take control of your brain and you wish your best friend was a sleepwalker but more like a sleepfucker. Okay, you are clearly deranged...

A normal person would try to bring some space between your two bodies but you do the opposite: you scoot closer, almost grinding on his boner.

Small sleepy growls from Jungkook make you stop moving as you really don't want your best friend to know how much of a sexual freak he is turning you into.

"Good morning, goober" Jungkook says with his sexy raspy voice before kissing your forehead

"Hi" You reply with cheeks as red as a tomato

Fuck, you still feel his dick but Jungkook doesn't seem in a rush of stepping away. Does he not feel it? Or maybe he does and he needs some friction because he fucking holds you tighter. You wish you could feel embarrassed but it's not the main emotion you experience: your horniness takes the most of you. If Jungkook doesn't release you soon, you could jump on him to ride him. Perhaps all the hot sex scenes you have written are messing up with your brain and you can't distance fantasy from reality.

(Un)fortunately, your best friend frees you to stretch. You try your best not to peak at the tent of the sheets caused by his hard-on. Jungkook leaves the bed and stands up in front of you, asking about breakfast with a very distant — according to you — voice. However, you can't focus on any words he is saying because the only thing that gets your attention is his — huge — bulge in his boxing shorts. He clearly doesn't wear any briefs and your mouth waters at the fact there is just one layer of fabric separating you from his cock — and also a whole moral code but you can't care about it right now. On the hand, it's not like Jungkook would stop you but you don't have any idea of it. A sparkle of playfulness brightens his doe eyes as he notices how you are gazing at his dick.

"Are you even listening to me?" Jungkook asks while snapping his fingers right in front of your face

"I-Jungkook, you..." You start but struggle to find the words that won't make you look like a sexual freak

"What?"

"You, uhm, seem to be awaken" You eventually decide to say

Jungkook looks at you with a faked questioning face and you point at this crotch. Rather than to be embarrassed, your best friend smirks proudly.

"Impressed, right?" He teases you and your cheeks take a new brighter tint of red

"Jungkook!" You scold him but you secretly are impressed by his obvious blessed area — way bigger than you have wrote

Your best friend just laughs with his childlike cheerful chuckle and announces that he'll cook some rice with sausages. You fall back on the bed, sighing in frustration. Jungkook is driving you crazy and you wish you could take off his wry smile by sitting on his pretty face. However, you decide it would be wiser to just sit on a chair and have breakfast with him.

"I could like to go to Songdo Beach today and go on a ride of the Busan AirCruise" You say at one point, your mouth full of food which makes barely impossible for Jungkook to understand you

"Why? You already did it a hundred of times"

"But it's raining today!" You pout "You know I love the atmosphere the rain gives to the skyline"

Your best friend does know it. You have told him countless of times how relaxing you find the sound of the rain on the glass cable car and the pale blue, almost lavender color, the Busan sky gets tinted on rainy days. Jungkook sighs to pretend it's a burden to go with you but you both know he likes it too.

As usual, the queue is not that long. Busan people tend to stay home or to take shelter in the numerous trendy coffees. What a shame people don't appreciate how nice it is to fly upon the near ocean while raindrops surround you. As usual, Jungkook buys the tickets for the two of you. You don't quite understand why he insists every time to pay but you can't deny it is heart-warming. Your best friend knows it's one of the things you love the most in life so he just wants you to enjoy it entirely.

A soft smile paints your lips as you step in the cable car. Slowly elevating you in the sky, you watch the nearby buildings growing away between the big and round drops of water. The sight is blurred yet so poetic. The glass floor allows you to take a peak at the waves and if you look at the ocean side, you can see some huge cargo boats, waiting in Busan bay to deliver their merchandise.

The calm atmosphere, enhanced by the melody of the rain on the glass, soothes you. However, Jungkook couldn't just let you be and he suddenly moves to make the cable car swing. You scream and scold him which only makes him laugh. As usual.

"Let's take a picture" Jungkook says while pulling off his phone from his oversized bomber jacket pocket

Then, he sits next to you and frames to crystalize both your two faces and the skyline in the background on the photo. You and your best friend smile brightly. If someone asks Jungkook right now, he could say that it's one of sunniest days ever because of how radiant you are.

"A last one" Jungkook announces

He clicks on the button to snap the picture at the exact moment he pecks your cheek. The photo clearly notifies how surprised you were, your eyes growing wider and your mouth slightly opened. However, your shy face mixed with your blushed cheeks make you really, really cute in Jungkook's opinion. He can only chuckle as he gazes at the picture with affection eyes. He will definitely make it his new wallpaper.

However, the small peck you have received from your best friend moves you more than it should. Your heart beats so loud in your chest that it seems to echoes down to your toes. You try to calm down and you resonate: it doesn't mean anything for your best friend. It's just a small friendly peck. Fuck, you write some erotic stories in which the characters fuck like beasts, you can't be all shaken up by a stupid kiss on the cheek!

You soothe your crazy heart by focusing on the view of the grey tinted skyline and on the few people defying the rain with their umbrellas. Deep down, you know it's the best memory you will have on the Busan cable car despite the numerous times you went on.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"What do you think about this one?" Jungkook asks you a few days later while presenting another shirt in a dark blue color

You try hard to put a smile on your face to hide your painful chest. Does your best friend have any idea that helping him choosing an outfit for his date is torture for you? You could wince at the pain if you didn't have to act like normal.

"I think the white one is better" You answer nonetheless "You can't go wrong with it"

Jungkook nods and then finishes you completely: he casually takes off his t-shirt, flashing you with his so perfect buff chest. If it's true that you sometimes gripe when your best friend spends two hours at the gym, you are so thankful of it now. You practically drool when your eyes run through his flexing biceps — the right one delicately wrapped with ink —, his well-defined pecs and his fucking hot abs. You almost faint when your glance ends up its route on his very low pants, making his V-line and the hem of his black underwear visible. His skin seems so soft, your fingertips tickle at the thought of touching it. Fuck, this is better than anything you have ever written. You gulp when you think about all the nasty things you could like to do with Jungkook's torso.

"So, what do you think?"

Jungkook's question snaps you out of your fantasies but you have absolutely no idea of what he is talking about. Suddenly, the thread escaping from your jeans is very much interesting and you just pray that Jungkook hasn't noticed how you were eying him.

"About what?" You timidly ask

"Gogi Yummy, the restaurant I'm taking her to. Do you think it's a good idea?"

Your heart squeezes painfully when you think about Jungkook having a perfect date, doing everything you could like him to do, with someone else. You wish you could be a good best friend and be happy for him but the truth is that you love him too much not to feel hurt when he is going on a date.

"I think it's great" You reply as cheerful as you can be but still not looking to him in an attempt to hide the hurt in your eyes

"What about you?" Your best friend suddenly asks

"What about me?" You repeat his words with confusion, brows furrowed

"When are you going on a date?" He clarifies

You sigh while notifying him that you don't have time to look for a date. The real reason is obviously your feelings for Jungkook, you don't want anyone else but him.

"You know Jimin, right? The last time I saw him, he told me you were cute. Maybe you should give him a chance" Jungkook tells you with an encouraging tone but you only wince, which makes him sigh "Look, if my date goes well, we'll do something together, the four of us. This way, you won't feel pressured. How does it sound?"

Awful. But there is no way you'd confess that, especially when Jungkook is looking at you with his sparkling doe eyes and his so cute bunny smile. So you tell him that it's a great idea and you hope, even more than before, that his date is a disaster so you don't have to go on a double-date during which you won't be the partner of the person you love.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

JK was drawing delicious patterns on my clit with his tongue. I couldn't help tugging on his raven hair, not really knowing if it was to stop him or to urge him to do it harder. My breathe was cut when I felt a long and thick finger sliding into me, automatically making my walls clench around it.

"I'm close"I told JK, which provoked a proud smirk on his face

His only mission on Earth seemed to be providing me great orgasms — and he'd never failed.

"Come on, baby. Make me taste your yummy juices" He teased me, sending me on the edge

He stood up and took off this t-shirt so I could admire his delicate yet strong torso, the definition of perfection. His muscles were making me feel all kinds of butterflies in my stomach — or was it the remains of the orgasm? — and JK knew it well. He knew he was teasing me, and the way he was flexing his muscles proved me right. My mouth watered and my hand caressed the bulge of his six-pack. His tattoos always had an effect on me, making him as intriguing as sexy. A sin I wouldn't care to go to Hell for.

I wished I had time to enjoy it more but I had to go to work — JK's cunnilingus made me late as it made me come.

You save the last chapter and publish it on Wattpad. You stroll through the comments and smile when you read some very supportive ones. Almost every readers are in love with JK — only of they knew that real life Jungkook is one hundred times better. You sigh in content and close your laptop, ready to head to bed but your phone rings, stopping your plans of having a good and relaxing sleep.

'My date went great. Save your Friday night buddy cause we have a date ;)'

Why does your best friend have absolutely no clue of the draggers he is stabbing into your heart? To be fair, he went on this date because he thinks he doesn't stand a chance with you but you obviously don't know that. You growl and turn in your bed, tugging your sheets around you like if you were a burrito. Yes, going on a date with Jungkook is one of your dreams but going on a double-date with Jungkook having another date than you is a nightmare. You spend the night ramming through all the possible ways the date can go, which leads you to cry when scenarios of your best friend kissing a girl in front of you play in your mind.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You growl while taking your clothes out of the washing machine. You don't what went wrong but it seems like every single pieces of clothing has sized down. Well, you could guess what went wrong: you were deep in thought and clicked on the wrong washing program. You sigh when you see your favorite dress... A slight and ridiculous hope that maybe it's not too bad makes you try it on, which takes you way more efforts than usual. But it only confirms what you thought: the red dress is now so tight that it looks like a second skin. The bottom hem barely covers your underwear and shows some of your ass in the back. And let's not talk about the neckline because it's worse: half of your bra is on display.

Of course, fate is never on your side — because it has been such a nice day so far. You hear your front door opening and it only means one thing: Jungkook is here. He is the only one to have a spare key — which was supposed to be for emergency but turned out to be a way to visit you without warning every time he is in the mood to. You start to panic but you don't have time to cover yourself as your best friend's pretty face appears. You feel embarrassed to show so much skin to Jungkook, even though you often fantasize about him seeing way much more. Shock — and some other expression that you could interpret as lust — paints his features. His eyes run through your very exposed body and your cheeks match the color of your 'dress'.

"Are you going to wear that?" Jungkook asks with a as natural as possible tone while he places his hands in front of his crotch to prevent you from noticing his growing boner

"Are you crazy?!" You defend yourself "I fucked up my laundry, that's all. I have no other choice than to throw away my favorite dress" You sigh in despair

On the other side, Jungkook likes the new style of the dress. It's now his favorite. Fuck, you're hot. You look so naughty. And it's even better when you turn around and some of your asscheeks are visible. He wonders how they would jiggle if he'd spanked you. He knows he shouldn't have this kind of thoughts about you but he can't help it. Your body is so fucking perfect. The peak he had of your big rounded tits, covered by your bra which led appear the shadow of your picky nipple, and the almost peak he had of your panties drive him mad. He does't think you should throw the dress away. You should keep it. For him. For when he fucks you.

Jungkook tries to get rid off those thoughts but his hard-on makes it difficult. When you send him off to change, he gladly accepts and opens your fridge, pretending he is looking for some soda, to let the cold soften his cock. You'll be the death of him.

"What are you doing here?" You asks, making your best friend jolt

Jungkook grabs a random can and turns around to discover you are now wearing your usual light green sweatpants and an oversized t-shit — former his, if he might add. You are really messing with his brain because earlier, with your tiny dress, he could pretend that his attraction was just a normal one of a guy seeing a sexily clothed girl. But now, even with a not so appealing outfit, he still thinks you're beautiful and hot.

You lift one brow when your best friend doesn't answer. Jungkook clears his throat and tries to gather his thoughts. He needs to focus on something other than you, otherwise he risks to cancel all his plans to fuck you against your washing machine.

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to grab some food at PadThailand. It's been a while and I know you like it"

Your heart melts at the fact that Jungkook thought about you before ordering from one of your favorite restaurants. Your smile seems to illuminate the place, so much that your best friend wishes he had sunglasses. You nod with enthusiasm, spurring Jungkook to call the restaurant and book a table.

You've changed, for the third time of the day, into a simple jeans and long sleeves sailor top. You feel proud to match the area of PadThailand, the restaurant being close to one of the small ports of Busan. Delicious scents of fresh cooked fish fill the air, putting you in the mood of eating. You could even change your usual order and try the lemongrass cod fish. You giggle with eagerness, you can't wait to have your stomach full of delicious food.

"You look like you're in a good mood" Jungkook notices, a few meters from the restaurant location

"Of course!" You reply, cheerful "I'm going to one of my favorite restaurants and I'm with my favorite person"

You don't realize how your words made Jungkook stop his track. You continue your way to the door while Jungkook is trying his best to hide his wide bunny grin.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Friday night. The day of your 'date'.

You did make an effort on your outfit, opting for a cute black denim skirt and silver top. Actually, you were quite surprise when you stepped into the restaurant and discovered that your clothes matched Jungkook's. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that people around you would mistake you two as a couple. However, the euphoria left soon as your eyes landed on your best friend's date: a gorgeous girl named Minji. It took you everything you have to smile at her and lie while saying 'nice to meet you'.

Thankfully, the awkward silence that was getting set at your table disappears with Jimin's arrival. You can't deny that the brown haired man is handsome. Honestly, if you weren't so head over heels for Jungkook, you could kill to kiss Jimin's pulp lips. You also like the white light cotton t-shirt with longs sleeves Jimin chose to wear: the thin fabric gives a peak of his dark inked patterns. Do you have a tattoo kink? Well, it's definitely Jungkook's fault.

After ordering some drinks and food, you are starting to think that the night is not a complete torture — despite the occasional kisses between Jungkook and Minji. The girl is actually very nice and tries her best to find common tastes between the two of you. It honestly would be way easier if she were a bitch... You can't even hate her!

Jimin, on the other hand, is funny and shares a lot of stories of his last holidays which were a rollercoaster of unpleasant events. You don't have to force yourself to laugh and genuinely find his company pleasant. Yet, you can't imagine having feelings for someone other than Jungkook. You love him like you've never loved before. He swipes away every competition without even trying. He is more handsome, funnier, nicer than anyone else. He knows you more than anyone and he knows how to help you before you can even say you need him. It's like he can read in your mind, what a shame he can't see in your heart that it's full of him...

However, Jungkook begins to regret having set a date for you. Yes, he is Minji's date but it's just an attempt to stop thinking of you. Actually, he thought that if you were with Jimin, it would help him putting an end at his stupid crush. But the dragger in his heart when you smile at Jimin is a clear reminder that it's not just a silly crush... Jimin is having everything Jungkook wants to have with you. He wants to take you at the restaurant, as a date, just the two of you. He genuinely had more fun at PadThailand with you the other day — when he could pretend it was a real date, even if it was just in his head — than now with Minji. But he thinks you'll refuse if he asks you out, you have never acted like Jungkook could be something other than your best friend.

"Hey, Y/N" Minji starts with a cheerfulness that you can imagine innate in her "You said you love reading. You should follow this Wattpad account"

She hands you her phone and you stop breathing when your very username appears on the screen. Your whole body freezes and your blood is redirected in your legs to run away.

"The author is so good! Her writing is amazing" Minji continues

The compliments would please you in other circumstances but right now, it's the worst thing ever.

"And fun fact, the character of JK makes me think of you" She adds as a killer shot for you when she turns to address Jungkook

You feel so ashamed that you just keep your head down, the phone giving you a great excuse for it. You wish you could just curl up and die. Oh my god, what if Jungkook reads it? What if he knows it's about him? He will definitely know JK is supposed to be him! And he will fucking know how you dream about him fucking you in all kind of lustful fantasies! He'll think you're sick and deranged, there is no other way. He'll think you are obsessed with him and will cut all ties with you. Your throat is so tight that you can't even breath properly. You need to escape, far and fast.

You wait ten minutes not to sound suspicious and then fake an emergency, lying that you have received a text from one of your friends. Jimin, so kind by nature, offers you to drop you off but you refuse, even though you do appreciate the gesture. You basically run away and yell a taxi to head home as fast as possible.

Panic takes control of your body, making you shake and breath heavily. You walk back and forth in your bedroom as you wonder how you are going to get rid off this troubled situation. You definitely can't delete your Wattpad account now, it'd look way too suspicious. The only thing that soothe you is that Jungkook doesn't like reading so he won't look at your — erotic — stories. Right?

Why did you have to write those? You are so stupid, fantasizing on your best friend and making the whole world know! You should have kept your sexual dreams in your bed, rather than crystalizing them on white pages.

Your hands cover your burning cheeks before going to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on your face as a ridiculous attempt to wake up from this nightmare.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Two weeks have passed since the double-date. Jungkook and you have hanged out like nothing happened — actually for Jungkook nothing happened. However, even though you really wanted to hide from him out of embarrassment, you couldn't without presenting yourself as the culprit of these stories. Your best friend was his usual self and he didn't even talk about your Wattpad account, which slowly relieved you. Like you said, Jungkook doesn't like reading, he won't do it so you can live your life without thinking about it anymore. You did stop writing though and you felt sad when you've read comments of people missing you and waiting for the next chapter.

What you don't know is that Minji has insisted so much, arguing that the main male lead of your story was just like Jungkook, that your best friend took on himself to browse through your Wattpad account. And he read everything. At first, he was quite amused at the resemblance: more than the JK name, the fictional character has black hair and tattoos just like him. The sex scenes were intense but still a little too soft for Jungkook who likes it real rough — but it's not like you can know it. But then, Jungkook grew suspicious, some scenes being very familiar to him. Like the one of the two main characters going to the beach but can't to swim because they forgot their swimsuits. Or the one when they were cooking together and JK seasoned the meal the narrator took hours to cook with sugar instead of salt. Another example was an argument between the two characters over the film they should watch at the theatre. Jungkook clearly remembered a very similar scene with you that ended up just like the book: him buying his own ticket for Fast&Furious and you throwing your popcorn on him.

A — absolutely ridiculous and impossible — thought came to his mind: were you the author? That couldn't be. You were his best friend, and you've never seemed to be interested in him — despite his endeavours he might add. But then, how could the scenes in this book be so much like the ones you two'd shared? And then, a crazier thought lighted up in his brain: are all the sex scenes you have written one of your desires? Would you like him to fuck you, to finger you, to lick you? Thinking about your pretty face torn by pleasure made him hard in his pants. He went though the hot scenes for a second time, trying to acknowledge what you like. As insane as it might seem, if Jungkook has the chance to, he'll fuck you and he wants to be prepared. Well, that's if you are indeed the author of the book. Which is such a foolish idea that he can't allow himself to grow too excited because the odds are not in Jungkook's favors.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You are heading to Jungkook's place after receiving a text from him. He asked you if you wanted to watch a movie and you accepted. However, when you enter his apartment — you also have a spare key of your best friend's door —, the usual bowl of popcorn is no where to be seen. Jungkook has a ravishing look with his grey sweatpants and black oversized t-shirt. It's just his common look but it's so good on him.

"Hi" You greet him with a hug "You don't have any popcorn?"

"No, but maybe I have some underbaked cookies that we could eat with ice cream" He replies

You just freeze. Those underbaked cookies with ice cream are something you've written in your story. Did Jungkook read it? It's a catastrophe. You have to act like it's nothing, like you don't know what he means but god, you're such a shitty actress and your best friend knows you better than anyone else.

"Why would I want underbaked cookies?" You ask but your tone is so unsure that it only betrays you

"I don't know" Jungkook starts "Maybe because I'll get to eat you out to be fully satisfied"

Oh god. He. Did. Read. Everything. You wish the ground opened underneath your feet to swallow you whole. You throat is too dry to reply anything and your burning cheeks are screaming 'I'm the author! I'm guilty your Honor!'. You want to run away but you can't, your body refuses to move and you just keep looking down. You are so ashamed that your eyes get watery. Jungkook must hate you to have sexualized him like you did. Worse, you published this sexualized version of your best friend on the Internet and thousand of people have read it.

"Why did you write those stories?" Jungkook asks you

His tone is not harsh but not sweet either. It's just a little softer than neutral and it hurts in your heart.

"I don't know" You whisper with a shaky voice

"Don't lie to me, Y/N" Jungkook cups your face with his hands to force you to look into his so beautiful doe eyes "Tell me, I'm just trying to understand"

You are destabilized not to see any anger or disgust on your best friend's face. You thought he could be furious but he is not. He really seems curious to know. But that would mean you'd have to confess your feelings and you're not ready to hurt.

"It's just things that came to my mind" You half-lie

"So it doesn't mean anything?"

Your mouth opens in surprise at your best friend's question. Or more precisely at his tone. It's like he is hoping for it to mean something. You're taken aback. It's really not the reaction you expected. You remove his hand from your face so you can try to think again. You're lost in all the overwhelming emotions you're experiencing.

"I-" You start but nothing follows

You don't know what to say. Especially when Jungkook is looking at you with such an intense yet loving eye. Like he wants you. All of you. Your mind, your heart and your body. And you'll be happy to give them to him actually.

"Do you love me, Y/N?"

Once again, your eyes widen. You shouldn't be this surprised, it is just a logical question to ask after your interaction. You want to tell him but you're scared. Jungkook is perfect. He is the most handsome man but it's nothing compared to his personality. He is sweet and caring. He is hard-working and never gives up. He is supportive and always willing to help his friends. He is so perfect. Too perfect for you. You have nothing to offer him, he could find someone better just by snapping his fingers. But your best friend stops all those negative and destroying thoughts when he speaks again.

"You don't have to tell me" Jungkook says with a deep voice you've never heard before "I won't either. But I will show you"

With those last, enigmatic words, he cups your face with his tattooed hand. A immediate feeling of warmth rises upon the area he is touching. His thumb caresses your cheek, so delicately that you could think Jungkook is afraid to break you, but it soon drifts away to land on your bottom lip. The thinner and pinkish skin is soft underneath the pad of his finger and he can't wait any longer: he needs to feel the softness with his own mouth.

He kisses you and god, what a perfect kiss. The best one ever. His pulp lips feel like silk. The pressure is the right one: deep enough to draw butterflies in your stomach but not too much to completely overpower you. Jungkook wants to give you the opportunity to stop the kiss if you want to. But you surely don't want to. Quite the opposite: you want more.

Your hands go up to hide in his black hair to keep him close. It's the sign Jungkook waited to deepen the kiss. His hands are now on your back, pressing you closer against his strong body. Everything is just right. You seem to know each other's body like your own. Jungkook said he was going to show you he loved you and he does. The kiss is passionate but so loving at the same time. You have the feeling to fall in love with him all over again.

Without breaking the kiss, he leads you to his bedroom, which is easy since you know well his apartment. Jungkook takes off your shirt and he looks at your breasts long enough for you to grow embarrassed. But then he whispers to himself 'so perfect' and you don't feel unsure anymore. The way Jungkook looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful woman alive. To be fair, you are for him.

Jungkook cups your tits still covered by your bra and leans down to hide his face in the valley of your boobs. God, he loves them so much. You moan when he starts to kiss the available skin. But it's not enough, for any of you. Your hand sneaks behind your back to undo your bra and finally free your breasts. Jungkook doesn't waste time and grabs one boob before squeezing it in his large and warm palm. His mouth works on your other nipple, licking, sucking and even deliciously biting it.

He invites you to lean on his bed and you're happy to do it. Jungkook grabs the hem of your pants and slides them down with your panties. Your pussy is already glistening with arousal and it's driving him crazy. He can't even control himself when he step closer to eat you out. His tongue is fast and precise on your clit and you can't help the moans from escaping your lips. Your head is thrown back and your fists are clenched around the sheets. Your cunt is soaked by your horniness and Jungkook's saliva, creating a real mess between your legs.

"More" You groan

Jungkook smirks while he enters your tight pussy with two fingers. The stretch is so fucking good that you whimper. His pace doesn't show any mercy but you fucking love it. Maybe it's Jungkook's skills or maybe it's your strong feelings for him but your orgasm is close. Your legs start shaking and you rest them on your best friend's shoulders.

"Your pussy is so good" He says against your wet clit "You've dreamt about that, uh? You little minx"

Your head is spinning because of your horniness. You feel like drowning into pleasure and Jungkook's expert fingers hitting your g-sport repeatedly are pushing you over the edge. Your back arches and your toes curl while you're trying to control your orgasm. It's too good, you don't want Jungkook to stop just now. But then, he talks again:

"I've read how you wanted me to eat your pretty pussy. You're a little slut for me, isn't that right?"

His dirty mouth — both words and acts — makes you cum on his face and fingers. Jungkook's digits are squeezed tightly by your walls and he pushes your limits by pushing on your sweet spot harder. It cuts your breathe and you feel your orgasm lasting and lasting until you can't take the overstimulation anymore. Your legs try to close but they are stopped by Jungkook's head and your hands tug on his hair.

"I'll fuck you good"

Jungkook's promise lights up your body once again. You settle down from your high just in time to watch his strip show. His pecs and abs are so perfect. You wish you could lick them but your body is still in the fog of your orgasm so you just can lift your hand to caress him like you've dreamt of so many time. His skin is warm and soft but his muscles are hard right under. Jungkook closes his eyes to enjoy your touch. He's imagined it many times before you and your delicate fingers on him are delightful. His hard cock twitches in his pants when your hand reaches the hem of his sweatpants. The bulge is clearly visible and your mouth waters.

You push the pieces of fabric down to free is big cock. Oh god, it's bigger than you thought. Some pre-cum is leaking from his tip and you use it to jerk him off. Jungkook growls out of delight and your hand works fast on his length. The sight of your small hand around his cock is fucking hot but Jungkook wants to fuck you. You two will have a lot of time in the future to experience other things.

"I want to fuck you" Jungkook says but it's also a consent question

As much as he wants to, he won't if you tell him no.

"I want it too, Kook"

Your best friend walks to his nightstand after getting off of his pants and underwear. He grabs a condom that he quickly puts on and joins you on the bed. You're gorgeous, all naked, in his bed. Lust is written on your face and he still can't believe you're looking at him. He wants to worship you and he will, but right now, he will fuck you like there is no tomorrow.

You open your legs wider for Jungkook to take place between them. He grabs his hard cock and slides the tip up and down on your folds. Your back arches.

"Please, Kook, I want you" Your whipped voice is driving him crazy

He enters slowly, not wishing to hurt you. The way his dick is stretching you out is insane. Jungkook is big but it's fucking good. He fills you so well. When he sees you relaxing, he starts to move back and forth. Your soaked pussy helps him to enter you without any difficulty. His hands cup your face to kiss you. Your moans are swallowed by Jungkook's mouth and your hands grabs his wrists when he pounds you at a faster pace. Soon, your tits are bouncing with rhythm and your groans get louder.

The grab on your jaws tightens and Jungkook rests his forehead on yours. He fucks you passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist to deepen the poundings. The slight change of angle places his dick directly to your g-spot.

"Here!" You scream and clench around him

"Your pussy is so tight but you still want to be fucked rough" Jungkook smirks "You told everyone but me. I'm so disappointed, baby"

His dick strokes are harsher and deeper, kicking the air of your lungs every time. The sound your clapping skins create is loud and sinful. You're close again and Jungkook can feel it.

"You're sure you don't want to tell me that you love me?" He asks with heavy breathe "Because I'll fuck you better if you do"

It's enough for you. Your walls are squeezing him impossibly tight. Jungkook almost winces but the fucked expression on your face is so worth it.

"I love you, Kook!" You scream when you cum hard on his cock, your vison blurred by the tears of pleasure and love filing your eyes

The euphoric state provoked by your orgasm and your feelings make you loose your mind. You kiss him but a salty taste mixes in your kiss. When Jungkook wipes the corners of your eyes, you realize you're crying. You don't even know why.

"I love you too" Jungkook whispers

A few more hard poundings are provided and Jungkook cums in the condom. You're both panting and Jungkook is almost crushing you but you don't care. His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin tenderly. You hug him tightly when you finally realize that your best friend loves you too.

Your cry shakes your body and Jungkook lifts up his head and his heart squeezes when he sees you.

"Hey, don't cry, baby"

He kisses every single inch of your face: your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead and even your eyes to make your tears disappear.

Jungkook pulls out of you and takes off his condom. He quickly comes back to hug you tight. You truly appreciate how gentle he is. He has always been but now, with the love in his eyes, it's even better. Your whole body feels full of love. You know it's the right moment to share all the things you've kept to yourself for years.

"My head and my heart are full of you" You say "I'm drowning in the ocean of the love I feel for you. I love so much that it hurts, Kook"

"Your words feel so good" Jungkook replies with watery eyes, gently patting your hair "I can't describe as good as you my feelings but one thing I can say is that I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I'll never be tired of telling you or showing you how much I do"

You cry like a baby, undoubtedly the result of your post-sex tiredness and the tsunami of emotions Jungkook's confession provokes. It's the first time tears provoked by your best friend are welcomed.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"So, what's next?" Jungkook asks the next day during breakfast

Just as the last time you've spent the night at his place, he woke up with a morning wood. Except that, this time, you made love. It was different from yesterday but as good. Maybe even better because you weren't in the over-everything that your love confessions provoked. You took your time, you kissed and kissed again while caressing and feeling each other.

"Maybe I'll need some inspiration for the next date scenes" You tease him

Jungkook giggles while scrunching his cute nose. He knows you so well and yet, this part of you, your writer part, was completely unknown until a few days ago. He also knows that your book is just an excuse to take you on a date. Honestly, he doesn't have to make any excuse to ask you on a date. He wants to do it. He has been wanting for years and now, you're his girlfriend.

"You're sure you don't need inspiration for your sex scenes?" He asks playfully

You smile and scoot closer to wrap your arms around his neck.

"I could use some help" You whisper before kissing him

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts #jjk x reader #jjk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts one shot #one shot #bts f2l

440 notes · View notes

mariaace · 4 days

Note

Hiii,bestie♡♡♡♡. Can you write dating headcanons for our baby Kaiser? Plssss🥺🥺

A/n:deep breaths in and out...okay let's do it

Warnings:meantions of abuse Genre:fluff Type:headcanons

Soooo Kaiser

I don't have a lot to say here, but i also have a lot lmao

I'll start with the basics

Love language would be physical touch for giving and receiving, because he never got much affection growing up so he wants to make it up for the loss

He loves receiving compliments and spending time with you. Again it heals his inner child and it really makes him feels better about himself. He, of course would also give you compliments, because "you are perfect" in his opinion

If you have a good relationship with your parents would totally want to meet them. Like would be rushing to do that. Don't blame him please

He always loves when you talk about your hobbies and what you're good at whether that be a sport, something you do at home or something like collecting and exploring, and would ALWAYS want you to teach him too

He might not understand things the first time, but he'll catch up on it pretty quickly i promise you

If you do play football however half of the time you spend together will be on the court, not always playing, but it's a fun time for both of you

Would a hundred percent ask you to get matching tattoos. It's like, he would want to get it in a visible place like his arm, legs or neck so people could see it. And ever more if it's your first tattoo, he would freak out, because the first one you are getting is with him

Kaiser always looks at the crowd scanning for you before his match starts. Like he needs to now where to look and point when he scores a goal you know?

Wear his jersey. Please. I feel like every single one blue lock boy would totally go insane if you actually do (some just won't really show it)

You have his permission to die the ends of his hair. Speaking of that. He loves when you play with his hair, but like when you are sitting on the edge of the bed and he is sat between your legs with his back facing you

Would do tik tok trends with you (I'm looking at you ribbon trend) like the boy will ask, no no BEG you to do some of them

Also jokes are a must, like allllllll the time. Unless some of you is feeling down and isn't in the mood for them ofc, but otherwise he would always make you smile

Reblogs are highly appreciated!

@dazailoveschuuya

@kaiserkisser - i need youe person opinion on this🙏🏻

#mariaace 🪼#x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock fluff #blue lock kaiser #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk kaiser #bllk #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser fluff #kaiser headcanons #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser fluff #michael kaiser headcanons

190 notes · View notes

spitdrunken · 3 months

Text

response to this ask: ABSOLUTELY NOT TOO MUCH!!! This ask has brought me infinite joy and I have reread it a LOT. (Also dw, I will always assume Reader is an adult through asks!! But I get why you’d wanna say that with a term such as grooming, haha) also this got REALLY LONG… HELP.

Notes: pseudocest, obsessive behaviour, codependency, unequal power dynamics, implied minor character death, infantilization… general creepiness. Perhaps this veers away from my original post a little, but I love the idea that you’re someone entirely new to Hell. You’re fresh off the boat, so to speak, entirely unfamiliar with the way things work around here— Except that everything’s fucking terrifying, and you want out! Right now. Please. You see an ad on a random TV in a store’s display, one featuring a hotel that promises ‘sinners’ (which is what you are now, apparently, even your own body now being a new and confusing factor of your existence) a possible way to ascend up to Heaven. Now new and refurbished, after the last successfully averted extermination! Whatever that means. With nowhere else to turn to, no other leads or possibilities except sleeping out on the blood-soaked streets, of course you go! Who wouldn’t? You’d be stupid not to go! …Unless this is all a big scam In which case, you can only hope that you can’t die more than once.

Maybe you arrive, and this grand, beautiful hotel, is, well… Deserted. It’s beautiful on the outside, sure, but where are any of the staff? Or the people staying there, for that matter? You’re so uncomfortable out it all, that you nearly turn tail and run back from whence you came. You would have, if where you came from wasn’t ten times worse.

You walk up to the front desk, and, before you can change your mind, ring the little bell placed on the desk. Someone appears in a flash of golden light, and you have to squint your eyes to avoid being blinded. It disappears as quickly as it came, and a man… Demon, actually, appears in its place. (You catch a quick glance of something bright yellow being quickly stuffed into his pocket, but you have no idea what it is.) His form is noticeably more humanoid than the others you’ve seen out and about. Yes, his skin is an inhuman tone, and his cheeks take apple-red to a whole new level, but he doesn’t appear monstrous. That doesn’t make him exactly inviting, however. His face is set in a neutral expression, and he openly looks you up and down, pupils narrowed into slits. You scratch at the side of your neck, only to immediately flinch. You aren’t quite used to how sharp your nails are nowadays. “Um, hello! I— Sorry to bother you, sir,” you break the silence. “I might be wrong, but is this the Hazbin Hotel…? I saw the advertisement that was put out, and I was interested. Would you happen to be the owner?”

His neutral expression fades, and a small smile takes it place, eyelids sliding half-closed. “Oh no, no— Old me isn’t the boss of this place. That would be my daughter! I’m sure you would have heard of us.” He leans on his staff, both of his hands cupped around the apple on top. His eyes roam around your expression as if searching for something. “You’re pretty new here, I’m guessing?” “…Mhm. It’s that obvious, huh?” You don’t know how he was able to tell so quickly, but you laugh in a way that can only be heard as self deprecating. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, and avert your eyes.

“It’s kind of hard to tell how much time has passed, but— Not a lot. Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on. One moment, I was alive, and the next I was here, with this weird body, surrounded by terrifying people, and I don’t know—“ Your voice cracks under the weight of the reality of your situation. An eternity in Hell. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… Yeah. It’s just been a lot.” “I see. Yes, this realm isn’t particularly kind, least of all to newcomers. I can’t imagine what you’ve seen.” He says, quieter now. You dare a glance at his face. Something in his features has softened at your words, his slit pupils and smile wider in size. When he sees you looking, he extends a hand. You take it, and he gives you multiple firm shakes, before pulling you into a quick hug that has your knees buckle a bit and crushes the air out of your lungs. For a little guy, he really is surprisingly strong. When he lets you go, he’s still got a hand holding yours, leading you to one of the couches in the lobby, and promptly plopping down, pulling you with him. “But things are already on the rise for you from here on out!” He says, all boisterous and smiles, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “You’re new here, and already hit the jackpot! Lucifer’s the name!" And you can only imagine what kind of expression flashes over your face, because he nods rapidly and winks at you. “—Yes, that one, glad that, at least, rings a bell. And staying here places you under my family’s protection." His gaze drifts over the lobby. "My daughter and her friends are out doing trust exercises somewhere right now, but I’m certain she’ll be happy to welcome once she returns. She’s a real sweetheart, let me tell you! She didn’t get that from me, I can tell you that!” He laughs, but it quickly tapers off into a sigh. You wish you could laugh along. You have to admit you’re more than just a bit frozen up, questioning all of the decisions in your life and death that lead up to this moment. Sitting on a couch in a hotel lobby with Satan himself… Maybe you could die again, after all, and you were about to experience it. You probably have committed like fifty gross breaches of etiquette already, and, and— There’s a little rubber duck sitting on your lap.

It immediately snaps you out of your stupor, with how sudden and unexpected it is. The duck is bright yellow with chubby orange cheeks, and wearing a little black top hat. You can’t help cracking up a bit, taking it into your hand. …Maybe this guy is as silly as his outfit would suggest. Was calling himself Lucifer his idea of a joke? Things might be alright after all. “Ah..." You smile. "He’s so cute!” You relax, letting your back hit the sofa you’re sitting on. “Like a little gentleman!” This is the only adorable thing you’ve seen ever since arriving in Hell, and no one should blame you for getting a bit excited. Your days have been nothing but utter misery, after all. “You think so? I mean—“ He laughs, short and sudden. “Of course you do! Just look at the little guy! Who couldn’t love him? You can keep him, I can make another one lickety-split!” “Oh! Um, thank you! Does he have a name?” You’re full-on smiling now, and turning to look at ‘Lucifer’. At a shake of his head, you hum in thought. “A fancy guy deserves a fancy name… What about Reginald?” You turn the little toy around, inspecting it from all sides. “You’ve seen nothing yet! Just give it a little squeeze, not too much.” You do as he says. Through the little hole in its beak, a white droplet emerges. “It’s glue! He used to help me with my crafting projects. But, well, he’s yours now. Off to greener pastures, as they say.” You can’t help yourself. The whole situation is really not all that funny, but you crack up, and once you start laughing, you can’t stop. Your chest hurts, and tears are burning at the corners of your eyes. You have no idea why! Everything’s been such a mess lately. After a couple of seconds, you babble out some nonsense. “I gave— I gave Reginald such a posh name! But… Y’know, he’s a working man!” You say, still cracking up in between the words. At this, it’s Lucifer who laughs, a sound loud and sudden enough to ring in your ears. Seems you hadn’t heard a real laugh out of him before after all.

In other words, Lucifer (who you end up finding out really is the Devil himself) quickly grows fond of you, and takes you under his wings. Perhaps it’s your innocence about Hell and it’s mechanisms that pulls him towards you, combined with the fact that you’re just kind of easy to fuss over. You’re none the wiser that Lucifer was all but hopeless about sinners before helping restart the hotel, and entirely unaware that your dynamic is anything but normal. In your mind, Lucifer must befriend people rather frequently! While you’re quickly taken in by Hazbin Hotel’s other friends and staff, it really is Lucifer who helps you through your adjustment period. He makes you little covers for your claws, so you can get used to having sharp appendages, and not accidentally keep clawing open furniture or your own flesh. He requests Nifty makes some food that is at least visually similar to some Earth meal. When you wake up in the morning, there’s always a little duck sitting in front of your hotel door, making you start your day with a smile. You’ve got a shelf full of them now, and love all of them. (And when you’re curled up in your bed, late at night, crying over all that you’ve lost, smothering your sobs with a pillow, there is a gentle knock on your door. Lucifer sits on the side of your bed, wearing striped pajamas in red and white, and encourages you to pour your heart out to him.

There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everything you’re feeling, everything you’re going through— He’s heard and seen it all before. In fact, he’s sure he’s heard much, much worse. Has he ever done you wrong? No, he hasn’t. So, talk to him. He tells you, dabbing at your face with a white handkerchief decorated with apples stitched onto it. And you do.)

Lucifer looks after you. Sure, he’s not perfect. But no one is, right? Lucifer often seems to lose track of the conversation you’re having with him, distracted by the things around him and suddenly veering off into entirely different territory. In general, his memory is spotty at best, but you’re not surprised that an immortal being such as himself wouldn’t remember every single little thing you say.

He’ll hole himself up in his workshop for days at a time, only to emerge with nothing to show for it, except for a downtrodden expression. He’ll fight with Alastor (and continuously remind you to stay far away from that piece of shit), and get fussy whenever you try to leave the hotel without him glued to your side. Though his memory seems to often be unreliable, and you believe that a lot of simple conversations you have with him are simply left forgotten, there are instances you would consider insignificant that remain fresh in his mind.

“You’re doing it again,” you tell Lucifer. He’s pacing up and down the length of his room, ranting about Alastor. He blinks, and halts his movements, tapping his staff on the floor. “Doing what?” “The thing,” you emphasize, before standing up and walking towards him, dragging the top of your finger across his bottom lip. You can feel him take a quick inhale as soon as you make contact. A golden smear is left across your skin. “You’re always chewing on your bottom lip when you get upset. Doesn’t it hurt? I know it heals within, like, ten seconds, but still!” Absentmindedly, you look at his blood. It’s a weird thought to have, but it’s strangely… Beautiful. You look back up at him, and your brow furrows. “Hey… Were your red spots always that big? I think I’m seeing things.”

But things get better, and he improves. He starts to try and take little notes of the things you’ve told him, alongside the words of other people important to him, like Charlie, like a diary of sorts. The door to his workplace starts being left unlocked, and you’ll wander in, from time to time. You’ll sit on the chair in the corner of the room, reading or otherwise occupying yourself, and telling him that no, that duck or toy is not the worst thing you’ve ever seen, and doesn’t deserve to be burnt to a crisp.

You listen as he, on bad days, talks about his wife with a forlorn expression on his face. Things get better, though. He tries not to see the worst in sinners any longer, and his moods grow better. He spends more time with Charlie. All is well. You don’t realize just how entangled your existences are until you’re in too deep. That your eyes search for him every time you enter a new room, that you’ve grown comfortable with him doing the talking for you. You try to convince yourself it’s not a bad thing, but the simple truth is that you’ve lost a chunk of your independence. And when you try to go out with the other residents, it’s so easy for him to coax you back out of it.

Are you really sure you want to go? Look, I’m not trying to keep you here— I’m really not! But Hell’s a dangerous place out there, and I can assure you there’ll be things there that you really don’t want to see. …I’ve been working on a little display case for your favourite ducks, I can show you that instead.

He only grows more protective when time goes on, and you do more exercises with the rest of the hotel, bond with the other residents. At times, he tries to convince you to forgo their shared activities entirely.

(You try to forget about what you found in a drawer of his desk, one day. A note among so many other reminders that he is known to keep. But this one is wrinkled, pen pressed so hard to the paper that it’s torn in places. All of them want to go to Heaven, all of them want to leave here. Me. I get it. Because she has left, no one can be guaranteed to stay. But I won’t let the apple of my eye be taken, even if they send down an envoy and try to escort them up themselves. …But it’s hard not to remember.) When he gives you your a warning about the ‘scary outside world’ for the umpteenth time, you can’t help but roll your eyes and counter. Alright, dad. Nothing about your tone shows sincerity. You mean it as a joke or a jab, but Lucifer doesn’t laugh. Instead, he hums out a pleased little noise, a smile settling on his face.

The way he looks at you is so utterly tender, all half-lidded eyes and pupils blown wide, that it leaves you reeling. He nestles himself at your side, under the comfort of your arm, and promises to take care of you for the rest of your eternal life spent there. You have an eternity. It’s sweet, and knocks the breath out of you.

But you would’ve been able to reconcile the image of Lucifer and ‘father figure’ more easily if he, sometimes, didn’t act so contrary to such an image. He’ll call for you from behind his workdesk as you’re sitting on your usual chest, ready to show you a ventriloquist doll he’s been working on.

As you stand next to him, an arm is wrapped around your waist, and he pulls you on his lap. It’s in no way comfortable for him. He has to stick his head underneath one of your arms to see anything at all. It would be silly otherwise, but the way he pulls you flush against him, face nuzzled into your side as he audibly inhales, one clawed hand resting on your thigh… You can’t help but have it muddle your feelings towards him. He frequently kisses your hand as a greeting, and insists you let him kiss both of your cheeks before parting. You would write it off as one of his unique quirks if he did the same thing for Charlie, but he doesn’t.

Lucifer, with an eternity of time to hone his skills behind him, has picked up all kinds of crafts, including sewing. He’ll make pieces of clothing for you in his colour scheme, sew apple-themed patches on your clothing, among other things. It’s always embarrassing when he makes something. He fusses and cooes over you like you’re a child when you first wear any piece, clapping his hands and grinning. Oh, just look at you! Aren’t you the cutest little thing? It looks lovely on you!

Anyone with more than two braincells can tell something is going on between the two of you, though no one is quite sure exactly what. Perhaps Angel is rubbed the wrong way by just how overbearing Lucifer is being, and considers you to just get out there for once with the rest of them. You’re always cooped up inside the hotel! Come on, he’s been around the block more times than he count, and he knows every trick in the book. You’ll be fine as long as you stick with him. And… You have fun! Going out, dancing and drinking, accompanied by your friends, is wonderful. But maybe you drink a little bit too much, yet entirely unfamiliar with the different types of names alcoholic beverages in Hell have. How were you supposed to know you accidentally ordered one of the strongest drinks on the menu? And, in the crowd of people, you lose the rest, wandering outside without really noticing it. You’re such an obvious target, staggering on the sidewalk, giggling and mumbling to yourself, that you wouldn’t entirely blame anyone for the poor argument that ‘you were asking for it’ in a place like this. Your world is left spinning as you’re pushed against a wall, vision momentarily blacking out as your skull bashes against brick. (Somewhere in the club, Angel is looking for you, getting more frantic by the moment.)

You never get the chance to figure out exactly what the demon’s intentions are. As soon as their fingers brush over a patch Lucifer had sewn into your clothing, an apple with a little snake head popping out, they’re blasted back by golden light.

Your addled mind is still struggling to keep up when you’re wrapped in a set of soft, beautiful wings. The back of your head is cradled by gloved hands. You catch a glimpse of blood-red eyes set within a familiar face, but, soon, a cluster of feathers covers your eyes. There are horrible cracking noises, gurgling, wheezing— Though you see none of it, your imagination more than makes up for it. You press your face up against his chest, nauseous and shaking like a leaf. Lucifer takes off without a word, the flapping of his multiple sets of wings loud enough to awaken an oncoming headache. Mid-flight, when his features have returned to the ones you know him for, he peppers your face with kisses, and makes you look at him. You mumble out apologies, sniffling, drunk and shaken, but Lucifer shushes you.

What were you doing all the way out there, on your own? You’re usually such a good listener, my dove. You always listen to all of my warnings. A gloved finger traces your cheek. Someone convinced you to go out, didn’t they? That has to be it. You can tell your dad who it is. I won't be mad at you. You’ve never been afraid of Lucifer before. Now, though, you’re filled with apprehension. You frantically shake your head. Oh, then it was your own idea? The tip of one of his nails pokes your cheek. Not nearly hard enough to hurt, but the pressure is there.

…And you really do deserve to be in Hell, because prompted with this question, you take the selfish way out, and once again shake your head. More slowly, this time. See? It wasn’t that hard to be truthful, was it? I knew it wouldn’t be your fault. Now, all you have to do is tell me who it was.

That night, you spend the night in his bed, with Lucifer arguing that you’re very drunk. Which is very much. It’d be horrible for you to go ahead and choke on your vomit, or something like that! So, you should just stay with him. As you're drifting on the verge between conscious and unconscious, his lips find the skin of your throat, placing kisses up and down. Open-mouthed and warm, barely restrained.

You wake up the next morning with a splitting headache and only vague memories of the day prior. But you wake up with Lucifer’s arms wrapped around you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, each of his breaths tickling your skin. You wake up to one of his legs slotted in between yours. You wake up to the realization that you’ve bitten off far, far more than you can chew.

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere #yandere lucifer morningstar x reader #cha.lucifer #cw.dubcon #cw.pseudocest #cw.yandere #cw.alcohol #cw.infantilization

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