#mostly just will having a little stockholm syndrome

[eileensdress]

This is literally gonna double the wordcount in this series and it’s not even done yet <3

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”  

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded. 

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2

[youryanderedaddy]

War Prize

pt. 1, pt. 2

Tw: female reader, dub-con, somnophilia, stockholm syndrome, possessive behavior, hinted kidnapping, threats, commissioned piece

It had been so long since Raven captured you - five or six years in total, although you couldn't be quite sure of the exact amount as you had no access to books, calenders or even ink to write with.

Nowadays it was mostly calm around the occupied territories - almost domestic in a sense. You let yourself be pampered more often than not - you drunk the silky, bitter coffee Raven's slaves left out for you, and bathed in the sweet oils he picked for you. Long gone were the days when you fought him over the slightest injustice, long gone were the days when you stopped to think about every miserable soul who had to suffer so you could live in luxury. 

It was easier this way really. The barbarian was good to you, even if it wasn't in his nature initially. The hands that once bruised and hit and wrapped around your hair were now caressing your skin softly, the lips once sealed tight with furrowed hairy brows were leaving hot, wet kisses down your throat, feverish to the touch. You could wear the finest furs and dresses, your body covered in stolen gold and plundered diamonds from head to toe. Raven had made it clear - he loved you, and that meant that the whole world belonged to you the way you belonged to him.

Your life was simple, you had one purpose now - to please your master. You didn't have to work long hours on the field or take care of  a big, starving family ever again. All you had to do was spread your legs at any given moment, and stay soft and pliant in his rough, muscular hands. 

***

You'd usually wake up early in the morning from the slow, deep thrusts inside your hot wet cunt - stars dancing in your eyes as his length brushes against your cervix, filling you up to the brim. Your wrists are pinned above your head with little opportunity for movement, keeping you tightly into place. 

Raven starts slowly and keeps turning up the pace until he is practically shoving himself sloppily against your overflowing hole, his nails digging into the meat of your thighs so he can have more leverage over your quivering body.

“I love to see you fall apart beneath me.” He'd growl in your ear, his forehead resting against yours as his nostrils flare - eyes filled with sick, animalistic need to possess you fully. You moan, closing your eyes - too overwhelmed with pleasure to form a proper response. “Ah, ah, ah - no hiding from me. Let me see you, pretty girl.” Raven hisses, spreading your legs even wider, bouncing your hips up and down on his throbbing cock. 

Your lower lip trembles, desperate to stop another wave of wanton moans - but to no avail. Your sweet voice fills the tent, echoing beyond the thick walls.

“Look at you, all cute and teary for me. Aren't you just precious, slave?” The barbarian chuckles condescendingly, all while groping and slapping your ass lightly - playing with the hot doughy skin. “I want everyone to hear you.” His gaze darkens as his fist wraps around your neck possessively. “I want every single one of my men to hear you sing for me. I want their robes to strain with greed and jealousy with the knowledge that they'll never have my most prized possession.” 

You inhale sharply, lost in a cloudy headspace of dreams and red - hot pleasure. You feel your master's hand squeeze your throat tighter, and your pussy flutters around his length, slick running down your thighs and towards your asshole. It doesn't make sense - he is using you for his own satisfaction with little care for your personal comfort, but his touch makes you feel so warm and floaty, fuzzy butterflies tearing at your stomach - proud to belong to such a strong, powerful man. 

“I want you completely broken. I want to fill you up with my love and ruin you for any other man out there.” He'd groan, sinking his teeth into your neck and aiming for your sweet, sweet blood. “I want everyone to know that I tamed your pretty little brain and made you all mine, now and forever.” Raven kisses you, stealing the breath out of your mouth, sucking in all the panicked little sounds coming out of it. “Say it.” He orders, both threatening and desperate like a lovesick child. 

You can't stand it anymore - you throw your arms around his shoulders. You need to feel him against you, skin on skin. “I'm yours, all yours.” You cry out, holding on for dear life. There is no point denying it now - you can't imagine life without your master, no matter how cruel or difficult he may be. Who else would warm your bed? Who would give you purpose? Where else could you even go now that he has claimed you - and everybody knows?

“Say you love me.” His voice breaks, hands shivering as he holds you painfully close to him - as if the moment he lets go, he'd wake up and you'd be gone just like before. “Say you love me like I love you. Say you'll never leave me - or I swear to the Gods I'll chain you up here to never see the sun again.” He blubbers on and on, thrusts getting fast and frantic, pushing in and out of you with the ferocity of a lover and the fear of a man possessed. 

“I love you.” You whisper, laying back like a good little doll - letting yourself move and twist just the way he wants you to. He pulls you up into a standing position and all but swallows your sobs and wails, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. He lowly commands you to keep repeating it over and over again - until he gets sick of it (if ever), and paints your velvet walls all white and sticky with his seed. 

You take a couple of short shallow breaths, trying to resume your normal breathing. His hand rests on your neck - his eyes finally lose the furious, jealous spark, and he reaches out to stroke your hair gently.

“Good girl.”

[yikimiki]

>> bones and ashes

⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me

Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.

Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.

And Sukuna is everything but weak.

He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.

This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.

The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.

Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.

There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.

When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.

Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.

Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.

“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.

Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”

You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”

He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”

“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”

Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”

“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”

This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”

“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”

The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”

Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”

“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”

“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”

His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”

“I w-would n-never…”

“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.

The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.

“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”

“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”

You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.

Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.

“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”

You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”

He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”

“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.

“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”

You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”

“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”

Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”

“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sukuna,” you complete.

“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”

Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.

He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”

- ⚔️ -

Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.

Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.

Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.

Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.

You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.

“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”

You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.

You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.

Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.

You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.

However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.

Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.

Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.

It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.

Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.

He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.

He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.

So he keeps you.

It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.

“Undress,” he commands.

You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.

“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”

He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.

“So much, Sukuna.”

It’s more honest every time.

He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”

You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”

“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”

His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.

“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”

“I know you are,” he answers.

Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.

He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.

“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”

Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.

“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.

“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”

Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”

Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“

He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”

In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.

“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”

His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”

You nod. “Y-Yes.”

“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”

You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.

“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”

“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”

Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”

You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”

He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.

There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.

“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.

“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“

“Drink it.”

Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.

It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.

Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.

“… at me.”

This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.

“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.

You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.

“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”

And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.

You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”

“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”

The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.

“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”

Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.

Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.

“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”

He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”

Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”

“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.

“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”

“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”

[f1nalboys]

Gotcha Something - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!GN!Reader

something short and sweet! happy valentines day guys! enjoy this thing ive been cooking up for a bit and failed at the execution <3

WORD COUNT: 1513

WARNINGS: nice gift gone sexual fr, bo is a perv but hes OUR perv, photos of reader in sexual situations, brief descriptions of wounds and past abuse from bo, stockholm syndrome is our readers defualt setting now, reader has the same scars as bo, bo calls reader his 'girl' but no genitals are mentioned. some nsfw photos and a hint of recorded sex but nothing actually graphic. slight somno mention in one photo. mostly proofread but hey im just a guy

“Happy Valentine's Day, darlin.” Bo places the package onto your lap, sinking down onto the couch beside you. You glance at him with a cocked eyebrow and he grins, something sinister hidden underneath the charming exterior. “What? You ain’t expect me to getcha something?” He asks, placing a large hand over his heart, tsking at you. “You’re my girl, remember?”

He purrs into your ear, the springs of the couch creaking with his shifting weight. He taps the package with his fingers and sits back, waiting. You pick the gift up carefully, letting out a hum at the weight of it. “You wrapped it in newspaper?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your voice, and he snorts, shrugging. “Did a pretty good job, honestly.”

He watches you with an amused expression as you carefully untape the package, pulling the leatherbound photo album out with an awe-filled gasp. “I do good?” He asks you smugly as you fawn over the barely-decorated cover, fingers brushing over the black sharpie. ‘You and I through pictures’ was written in his familiar scrawl, all capital. “Fixed up that old camera I had, been taking photos. Figured I should put it to use.”

“I love it already.” You say and you mean it, you do. You can’t quite remember the time before him, before Ambrose and the suffocating walls of the garage and his house. Leaning over and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you look back down at the photobook with a small smile. Flipping it open to the first page you gasp, the smile falling as you stare down at the first photo.

It was a polaroid of you. Taken from behind in the garage, you look at yourself looking at the wall of fan belts, one hand down by your thigh, the other reaching upwards to grab one of them. Whoever had taken this photo, Bo you assume, had been hiding from you, the camera taken at a lower angle, the corner of the counter in the bottom left of the frame. Your eyes drag down to the scrawled message just below the photo. 

“July 17 ‘20. First Time Meeting.” 

“You looked so fuckin’ sexy that day.” Bo whispers, his arm sliding across your shoulder to bring you a little closer to him. You keep looking at the photo. “Knew I had to have you. You remember that?”

You nod your head slightly. “Mostly. It’s hard to remember anything before the garage.” You admit, looking at him. His smile falters, his jaw setting, and you’re quick to continue talking, a flash of panic in your chest. “But I remember meeting you! Your smile, your charm, you know?” You say, forcing a smile, eyes searching his. “I thought you were so cute, I just needed your help to make a move, right?”

“That’s right.” He says, and your shoulders dip as you breathe out in relief. You look back at the photo album, letting your finger trail down your frame in the photo. “Glad you broke when you did,” he purrs into your ear, his hand on your upper arm squeezing tightly for a moment. “That way I got to keep ‘ya. Would’ve been such a waste otherwise.” You hum, agreeing with him. Of course you agreed. Before Bo, you had too many opinions, too many thoughts in your head. He helped you realize your place wasn’t out there in the world, dealing with the headaches of everyday bullshit, it wasn’t here by Bo’s side, helping him get through the day and letting him put up with you. “Keep goin’.” 

He sounds excited, leaning forwards to grab his pack of cigs and lighter from the coffee table, lighting one and taking a puff as he watches you flip to the next page. This photo is dated a day later, but the photo makes you wince. You were strapped to the chair in the garage, your face cut to hell, duct tape over your mouth, your eyes filled with tears and fear. You can barely make out the red and raw skin on your wrists and ankles due to the grain and you let out a shaky breath when Bo’s fingers lovingly run along your wrists, the warped skin warm to his touch. 

You glance up at him and see his eyes transfixed onto your wrists, a pleased smile on his lips. “You used to cry for so long,” He whispers, pressing his thumb against the scar, the cigarette dangling from his lip. “In the beginning. Used to piss me off, kinda like a dog whinin’.” He chuckles, finally letting go of your wrist. “Kinda turned me on, though. Hearin’ you beggin’ me to let you go, to undo your wrists…” 

“Yeah, I know it turned you on,” you say with a slight laugh, tapping the next photo, dated a month and a half later. “See? You even wrote ‘Our First Time’ on it.” This photo does bring a smile to your face. Your face is covered by your hands, dried blood on your wrists, your legs spread wide for him. Your shirt hung off your shoulders and if you think hard enough you can hear the sound of his knife cutting through the fabric. Bo’s jean clad legs could be seen in the bottom of the frame where he was positioned in between your legs. They were unbuttoned and showed off his freckled stomach and the thick line of hair that disappeared under his boxers. 

He had been surprisingly gentle that night, lighting the melted down candles and playing jazz on the stereo upstairs. Bo had laid you down on the dirty mattress, his eyes taking in every single inch of your body, his grip only tightening when you attempted to cover yourself. It had been the turning point for you in some strange way, seeing that side of him. It made you realize that he had been telling the truth; you did love him. 

“Still just as tight,” he says, his attempt at a compliment as he takes control of flipping through the album. Each photo causes you to blush harder, squirm in your seat. A photo of his cock inside you, bruise marks on your thighs. Another showed you on your stomach, wrists held back by his belt, hand prints on your ass. You strapped to the chair with a smile on your face and a fresh cut on your cheek. You looking up at the camera through your eyelashes and a pleading look. A photo of you sleeping and his cock pressed between your lips.

And those were just the photos where you were mostly aware of the camera. 

The end of the photo album had three photos to a page, a quickly scrawled date and word next to each one. The photo of you in the kitchen wearing Bo’s button up shirt at the stove was captioned ‘10/13/21. Cooking.’ The one of you asleep in Bo’s bed was captioned ‘11/08/21. Sleeping.’  You fixing up Bo’s mechanics uniform, 12/23/21. Sewing. You reading a book on the couch, 1/02/22. Relaxing. You with Vincent and Lester at the kitchen playing a boardgame surrounded with pizza and beer, 5/28/22. Game Night. You hunched over a cake with your tongue poking out and a piping bag in hand taken from the hallway, 9/18/22. My Birthday.

“You really took all these?” You ask, glancing at him. He seems a little bashful now, his cigarette smoked down to a stub for once. He shrugs, putting the cigarette out onto the ashtray and settling back against the couch. “I love it, Bo.” You say, your voice cracking slightly. “This was sweet.”

“Yeah, well… figured you deserved it.” He says with a roll of his eyes, eyeing you carefully. Sure, some of the photos were perverted, and it chronicled exactly what he put you through in the very beginning, but it showed that he had planned to keep you from the very beginning. You give him a quick kiss, deepening it by placing your hand on his chest. “Really loved it, huh?” Bo teases, kissing you back. He gives you a sideways smirk when you move to straddle him, his hands instantly resting on your hips.

You fiddle with the top button of his shirt, biting back your own pleased grin. “For your gift, I was thinking…” Bo cocks an eyebrow at you as you trail off before you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Maybe you can get that camcorder from Vinny and use it tonight? Whatever you want?”

“Whatever I want?” He asks, amused, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. His eyes are dark. “Guess I need to do sappy shit for ‘ya more often then if it gets ‘ya like this for me.” He grabs your hand, bringing your wrist to his lips quickly before he’s gently pushing you off of him. “Get on to the bedroom. Don’t think about takin’ those clothes off; I want the camera to see it all, darlin’.”

[dr3c0mix]

I immediately apologize for the bad English!

How does Caspian plan to keep the fem!reader underwater? Or does he have another plan? thank you, your work is very nice🛐

ill be making this gn since its a part 2 but if you want a one-off thing with a fem!reader, just request it! :3

Also sorry for the long hiatus again but here's the long awaited part 2 ! yaay you're not dead !! :D

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader Pt. 2

CW: Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con licking (reader is asleep), idk Caspian being a delulu icon

🌊 You wake up with a throbbing headache and a vague memory of what transpired before you blacked out.

🌊 The feeling of overwhelming pressure and deepness comes back to you, memories start to come back as you see a red mark on your arm.

🌊 You remember now, the screams and cries of your classmates ring in your ears before the memory of being dragged down to the depths hit you like a wave.

🌊 a splash of water pulled you out of your thoughts, it was then you looked around at the place you were in.

🌊 It looked like you were in a cave illuminated by algae and glowing sea creatures. the cavernous area was sandy and a bit wet with a deep pool which led to an underwater tunnel, it was the only entrance and exit to the cave from what you can see.

🌊 Behind you was a house built out of a shipwreck, the broken boards of the deck repaired with random planks and cloths.

🌊 "Honey~ I know you're a bit out of sorts right now but uhm..could you help me out a bit~?" a familiar voice echoed throughout the cave.

🌊 You gasp and instinctively stand up and back away from where the voice came from. Caspian was lying on the shore, a net full of what seems to be canned food and fish tied around his waist like a satchel.

🌊 "My treasure~! I know you're excited to explore your new home, but can you help me get to shore first~" Caspian coos as he smiles at you awkwardly, his large tail flopping on the sand.

🌊 You grab a piece of driftwood and hold it like a weapon. "D-Don't come any closer!" you yell at him nervously, afraid of what he might do after you saw his capabilities, and his sharp teeth..

🌊 "My sweet, you have nothing to worry about~! Why would I ever hurt you~? Those mean humans tried to hurt us! You'd never do that to me now would you~?" He tries to calm you down.

🌊 It takes a while for you to calm down considering how confused and scared you were, but with no way out and Caspians lack of intention to hurt you, the only thing left to do was to just sit and try to think logically about the situation.

🌊 Caspian tries to help you make sense of your little predicament, it was mostly him making an excuse to hold you close because "Am I not able to help you relax my treasure~?"

🌊 So you're in a cave after getting kidnapped brought to safety by a mermaid, how fun...

🌊 You has no choice but to accept your new lifestyle, after all, the only out was an underwater cavern, and you had no idea how deep or long it was. Caspian might not be the best at moving on land, but without him, you'd drown if you attempt to leave.

🌊 Once you told the siren that you weren't going anywhere soon unfortunately, He lit up and gave you a big, soaking wet hug. "Oh my treasure! You'll be happy here, I promise~!" He peppers your face with kisses, some making you shiver at the thought of his sharp teeth being so close to your flesh.

🌊 He'd go out every day to get food for you and him, sometimes surprising you with gifts!

🌊 He knows you like reading, so any book or parchment that he finds is immediately brought to you so you won't be so bored <3

🌊 More often than not they're too wet to actually read, but you appreciate the effort you suppose.

🌊 You also had to explain what cooking is to Caspian and that humans can't eat fish raw...and alive..

🌊 Get ready to be showered with pearls and pretty shells and treasure! Caspian is a bit picky when it comes to his own horde so anything that he considers nice but not on par with his tastes goes to you~!

🌊 He would always ask to sleep with you in your bed, and he doesn't take no for an answer.

🌊 "It's cold my treasure~! Could you warm me up~?"

🌊 "It gets so lonely in the water~ May I stay in bed with you my love~?"

🌊 "But I got all those nice things for you~!"

🌊 He would keep whining and fussing until you agree. He doesn't care at all that your sheets are all now soaked.

🌊 If you tell him to dry off first, he will! But you'll have to pay him with a kiss~

🌊 He may or may not sniff your hair while you sleep...and maybe lick your neck..

🌊 He can't get himself to sleep sometimes, he'd just watch you sleep the whole time. What can he say? You're too irresistible~!

🌊 Sometimes he'd even whisper sweet things into your ear, promising you the world if you'd let him.

🌊 More often than not, he sings you to sleep. The anxieties of never seeing your family again and living off of just fish and other sea creatures was getting to you, not to mention the many hours of being alone in a cave.

🌊 His siren song lulled you to bed every night. No matter how much you distanced yourself away from him, he was always able to calm you down with his voice.

🌊 "Hush now my dear~...You'll learn to like it here~ And one day, we'll be married and live happily ever after~ Just like in your stories~ Just you wait~..."

[iamasaddie]

horny&depraved book club (your daddy would be disappointed)

Hello, my dear depraved birdies. I decided to start my own little dark book club for those who are as fucked up in the head as I am. This fic rec list contains SOLELY dark works that have extremely dark topics, [main warnings are listed in brackets].

This is part 1 and it only has Joel, but more is to come.

First of all, mostly everything by @toxicanonymity , but especially RAIDER!Joel series and LINCOLN!Joel. Special mention for NIGHT WALKS!Joel (but he's not dark, just adorably creepy)

CARNAL by @pascalsbby [dominate & aggressive dbf!joel, age gap (24/50s)]

PLAYING ROUGH by @littlegreendove [knife kink, degradation, light dom/sub]

BURN FOR ME by @psychedelic-ink [stockholm syndrome, fear kink, dubious consent]

FATHERLESS by @weirdfangirly [dub-con, age gap, daddy issues]

GIVE AN INCH, TAKE A MILE by @thatmrmiller [age gap, drugging, forced breeding]

PRETTY FACE, CHERRY CHAPSTIC by @missannwinchester [drinking, violence, degradation] 

SIGN MY NAME by @djarin-dreams [knife play, blood play, non-con]

HOUSE ARREST by @shadeysprings [non-con, smut, stepcest]

TRICKS OF THE TRADE by @mypoisonedvine [dub-con, choking, daddy/sir kink, reader is a pill user/addict]

STRANGER THAN A STRANGER by @proxima-writes [survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con, somnophilia]

You can contribute to the book club by mentioning your favorite dark works (all Pedro Pascal characters are welcomed) OR send some creepy love to the amazing authors by again mentioning them in the comments or just sliding into their ask box!

Also, if you have written your own dark works that weren't mentioned here but you think they deserve some recognition, don't be shy and promote that depravity! (they might be a part of the next H&DBC fic rec list)

REMEMBER! FICTION IS NOT REAL LIFE AND WHATEVER YOU SEE ON PAGE DOES NOT MEAN I (or anyone else) CONDONES THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOR IRL. 

Whatever you do in life should be safe, sane and consensual.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hey so I have a kinda weird request, you have the right to ignore this of course.

How would Beidou, Yae Miko and Jean react to object of their love would say that they see them like their older sister (basicaly friend-zoneing them)

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this, it took me a bit of sitting on it to get a good response formulated! sorry for the wait :3

Warnings: this post contains yandere-themes, including kidnapping, love potions/drugging, mentions of conditioning/brainwashing, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Beidou:

She’s understandably crushed by this, while she encourages the members of her crew to behave like family and considers them as much, she wants you to see her as more. She’s already an older sister figure to others, she wants to finally mean something more to someone.

Beidou takes a few days to collect her thoughts, skilly avoiding you and holing up in her quarters on the Crux as she contemplates her next course of action. She might be crazy and reckless sometimes, her history can speak to that, she isn’t one to rush in without a plan.

She emerges with a new confidence, her usual swagger in her step as she confronts you once more. She tells you that she wants to take you on a trip and to pack your bags, enough for a few weeks. And no, you can’t decline.

“C’mon Doll, go get packing, an adventure awaits us.” A chuckle follows her words, her hands waving you off in the direction of your home. She follows behind you, helping you gather your things and carry them back to the Crux.

Beidou doesn’t tell you where she’s planning to take you, and the crew’s lips are equally as sealed, but the sudden shine in her eyes, the extra bit of stretch to her grin, and the way she can’t seem to keep away from you, all tell you that it’s certainly going to be something interesting.

Beidou decides to take you on a fairly long goose chase. While she claims you’re headed in the direction of one nation, you’re actually headed in the other. It takes a long while before you notice that you don’t really ever seem to reach a destination, just stopping in at small harbors and cities to restock food and supplies before setting off again. 

Her plan was essentially to trap you on the ship with her, have you sleep in the captain’s quarters with her, and spend every moment you physically could with her. She wanted you to become reliant on her presence, to want her around the same way she wanted you around.

It’s a fairly shaky plan that relies mostly on you developing some form of Stockholm syndrome, but she’s insistent it will work. It has to. She needs you.

Yae Miko:

While she can understand where you’re coming from, it also frustrates her greatly. Of course, she’s very good at not letting it show, but she didn’t spend all this time doting on you and loving you like no other just to be seen as a sister.

She doesn’t let the sudden news interrupt your relationship though, if anything she’s just more insistent in the little ways she loves on you. A hand on the small of your back when you two walk together, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear for you, the little things. Little things that she wants to make your heart flutter like how you make hers soar.

The longer it takes to win you over the more frustrated she gets, her centuries alive could not grant her enough patience to put up with this. But she remains cordial, acting as if everything is ok and normal. Until she can’t keep up the act. 

“Just hold still darling, it hurts less that way.” Yae smiles as she watches you struggle against your rope bindings, she knows they aren’t comfortable and don’t feel the greatest, that the rough rope bruises and chaffs your skin, but it would have to do for now. She can’t trust you to be free just yet, after all, you haven’t proven your love and devotion to her.

Yae jumps into the drastic route of kidnapping, keeping you confined in a place that only she and a select few others are aware of. She’s with you all day every day for the first week or so and after that, the hours vary. She does still have duties to uphold at the Grand Sakura Shrine after all.

When she’s with you though, it’s time spent conditioning you into new behaviors and mindsets, making you dependent on her and her love to even function. If you cannot open your eyes and see that you do love her, then she supposes she’ll just have to show you herself.

When she’s not with you, you’re given some freedom to explore the strange area, but nothing too grand. You’re kept confined to a room, a door the only break in the walls, with basic decorations and furniture. Yae didn’t spend too much time decorating, she didn’t want you getting too attached to this place, after all, she plans to take you back home someday.

Jean:

Jean is possibly the most understanding about all of this. Not only is she already an older sister, but she’s also a leader and considered like family to a lot of Mondstat. This isn’t to say she’s not upset by this though, it hurts her deeply.

Deeply enough that she spends a few days burrowed in her office, drowning her aching heart out in mountains of paperwork. Eventually, Lisa lures her out with the promise of helping to change your mind, which Jean is hesitant to do.

She respects your decision and your choices, but she simply can’t imagine life without you. So it’s no surprise that she does accept Lisa’s help, who in turn recruits Albedo.

It doesn’t take long for Lisa and Albedo to come to a solution. Between their combined knowledge and power, creating a love potion was simple. Unorthodox sure, but Lisa was confident it would work, nobody would even know. Albedo was in it merely to see how one responds to being under its effects.

Jean is hesitant to give it to you, her hands turning the bottle over and over in her hands as she considers whether or not she wants to do it. There’s a small part of her that feels guilty about it, about taking such a large part of who you are from you, but the large part of her is dying to hold you in her arms, to leave kisses all over your face, to properly call you hers.

It’s almost startling how easily she finds herself giving it to you, inviting you over for some tea to apologize for her absence and her reaction to your rejection. Everything about it feels so normal, what reason would you have to believe your drink has been spiked.

When you take the first sip and it tastes funny should’ve been the first sign something was wrong, but at Jean’s insistence that she was sure she had made it right, you settle for taking another sip, eventually finishing your whole cup. A smile graced Jean’s face when she saw you set the empty cup down.

It didn’t take long for the effects to set in, after all, you’d consumed quite a bit. Seeing you looking at her like she put the stars in the sky like she was the greatest person you’d ever met, melted all of Jean’s doubts. Screw feeling guilty, Jean was happy you finally loved her back.

[peachymilkandcream]

Movie! William Afton NSFW Alphabet

(A/N: The NSFW Alphabets are their canon events I cannot stop this I'm sorry T-T Also please read the warnings, I don't care if it's fucked my guy literally stuffed children into suits he's fucked up.)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, age difference etc.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) William is surprisingly considerate, when he has the time to be. Most of his life is wrapped up in the chaos of covering up murders and coming up with new machines that sometimes sex just becomes stress relief and he doesn't have time for more. However when he can be convinced to take time away he really does try and care about his wife and make sure she feels clean and comfortable.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Deranged psychos and their hands are a thing I'm telling you. The power in behind them is 100% a secret turn on they won't admit. And when you've made your career the work of your hands, (like child murders and a booming business) you can't help but pick that as the favourite. For her, he's not super partial but he really likes her hair, gripping it, pulling it, is what he daydreams about.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Let's just saw how else did they have four kids, cmon now. ;)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) While it's not inherently sexual William really loves putting fear into others, and he 100% has a r*pe fantasy that he puts her through often. (Although for her he doesn't tell her that's what happening so it's 'authentic') This includes fake home invasions as well when he gets bored of vanilla sex and wants to "spice things up". Poor girl lives in fear daily.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has some before they met, mostly teenage mistakes when he had the time. After he started his career it was rare he did simply because of time. He knows enough of what he's doing, he knows how to make himself feel good and that's all that matters right?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) My guy is a ride or die missionary, reverse cowgirl is the only other he'll consider. Anything else is just uncomfortable in his opinion, and again it's about what feels best for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) William's very erratic so it really depends on the mood he's in, how his day has gone if this kids annoy him. He has been known to be more humorous on occasion but it's not often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Let's be honest William only gets his hair cut because his wife does it, he doesn't have the time to take care of himself like he should, those are precious moments that could go to his work. So no, he is not well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) This again depends on the occasion, usually it's just stress relief so it's quick and usually not very romantic, but if it's a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday then he'll be way more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Same as with his hair, he honestly just never has time XD

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Big somnophilia fan, probably a slight breeding kink, lingerie (especially stockings), hair pulling, choking, gagging, knife play 100% (he's a serial killer, I had to).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere in the house really, anywhere he can get a moment alone. He used to enjoy when she distracted him in his workshop in the basement but now those old parts bring back haunting memories...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Her being a mother to his children, it warms his little black heart and gets him going. As well as any new sets of lingerie she buys or he buys for her.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She wouldn't but if she tried to dominate him, he would nope the fuck out of there. My guy is an S tier misogynist and believes his wife should be beneath him literally and figuratively.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving simply because it plays into the whole gagging thing. Her gagging on his dick as he face fucks her is so hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) As stated before it depends on the occasion, special moments require more slow and sensual whereas annoyance or hurry is fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) His whole life is about quickies, having just enough time to get himself off is what he usually does.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He takes too many risks, if he's not careful he's going to end up hurting her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Obviously when he was younger it was more, but now he's a one or two rounds at most guy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No no never, no matter what it is he's come to not trust machines around his loved ones anymore.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) If he's in a goofy mood he will, but most of the time he doesn't have time to sit and tease her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He's actually quite loud, groaning and even soft whimpers are his specialty.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) William has a thing for stockings because that's the first thing he saw her in and he started fantasizing how her thighs would jiggle in them while he was eating her out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I'd say he's above average, not too much but enough, he's slightly thick with a few smaller veins.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) His drive has really changed from wanting to have sex to wanted her to relieve stress. So because of all the stress he's under, it's pretty high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) William is out like a light after, dreaming about his victims or how he disposed of bodies. Solid sleeper while his wife lays awake plagued by waking nightmares of her own.

[phoward89]

Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, threats of harm, threats of rape, threats of violation, choking, murder threats

Chapter 7:

Coriolanus has been on Peacekeeper duty for the last 3 days. It sucks because Sejanus isn't with him. Instead he's doing his medic training at the infirmary with the Matron, leaving Coriolanus to do street patrols on his own.

But today he's on watch duty at the Peacekeeper Uniform Factory. His partner’s some grunt he’s barely even talked to. Honestly, he doesn't care to get to know the grunt since he's not sticking around much longer.

Coriolanus is taking his Elite Officer's Exam tomorrow; he knows he'll pass with flying colors. He can't wait to get you out of 8, to be able to claim you as his wife on legal documents and paperwork. Coriolanus sent a letter to Pluribus Bell about your father and one to Strabo Plinth as well, so he's hoping to receive some responses with some advice on how to move forward with inquiring about the asset law of Colonel Javanis Halvir for you.

Coriolanus grappled with the idea of writing to Dr. Gaul, but then decided against it. The woman, after all, was a bit crazy and had planned on killing all of the leftover tributes in the arena with her rainbow snakes; if he didn't cheat then there wouldn't have been a victor for the 10th Hunger Games. So, he decided not to contact Dr. Gaul. God forbid the woman wants you to return to the Capitol, to be rescued from your abandonment in the Districts for so long.

Yea…

Coriolanus isn't giving you up for anything. You're his wife; that makes you his responsibility. He's your protector since you're now Mrs. Snow. That gives him power; no one's going to take that away from him.

Coriolanus is dressed in his denim fatigues, his lanky frame leaning against the concrete wall as he keeps an eye on the women and teenagers that're working the loom machines. His icy blue eyes have been staring a hole into your once sister-in-law’s head, but that's mostly because she keeps giving him nasty looks. But that's fine with him; not like he cares what she thinks about him anyways.

In fact he hates Ashlie for abandoning you in a strange place; for being the cause of you to stoop down so low to stealing- to getting punished by the lash.

Yes!

Coryo has the audacity to shoulder the entire blame of your whipping onto your once sister-in-law. He refuses to take responsibility for it. He ‘loves’ you (more like he's head over heels obsessed with you) and refuses to believe that his greed and overwhelming need to impress his superiors hurt you in any way.

Plus you love him and married him. If he hurt you why would you have done that?

Yea…

Private Snow’s thick skull doesn't grasp that you latched onto him for pure survival- got somewhat of a Stockholm syndrome going on with him. Can't bite the hand that feeds you, eh?

Eh…Coriolanus feels like he's in for a long day. It's not even noon yet and he's already ready to take a break. And he can't help, but to wonder how your day’s going so far.

Ah, to be young, in love, and a newlywed.

You're making yourself a simple sandwich for lunch whenever a knock sounds at your door. You're not expecting anybody, so you're a little taken aback. Your husband's at work until the evening and you don't really have any friends in 8.

So, tentatively, you approach the door and open it. Standing before you is a postal worker, but not just any postal worker- one with a Peacekeeper postal uniform on. On the ground by their feet’s a large wooden crate.

What the?...

“I have a delivery for a Coriolanus Snow and a Y/N Snow? Are one of them present to sign for the package?” The postal worker asks, holding a clipboard with an attached pen.

You simply answer the postal worker with, “I'm Y/N Snow.”

Without a word, the Peacekeeper postal worker hands you the clipboard; which you take and sign your name on in the required spot before handing it back.

“Have a nice day, Ma’am.” The postal worker tips their hat at you before walking down the hall; leaving you alone with the crate.

You picked up the crate, which wasn't too heavy, and brought it into the house. Once you set it down, you read the return label. The name on it was The Plinths. You quickly realized that Sejanus' family sent Coriolanus something. You knew that they're friends from the Academy in the Capitol that joined the Peacekeepers together.

Well, it's nice that they sent your husband something.

But then you remember that the postal worker had said the package was for Coriolanus and Y/N Snow. Oh boy, so did they send you something in the crate too? And how did they know that Coriolanus got married? You've only been married for 3 days. Did they just assume or did Sejanus get a hold of his parents and tell them. How fast does Peacekeeper mail travel?

They say curiosity killed the cat, but it didn't kill you.

You opened the crate, with the help of a bottle opener that you used to pry the wooden lid off, and saw that inside of the crate was a few wrapped packages and a tin. Oh, so the Plinths sent Christmas presents. That's very nice of them.

You take the packages and the tin out, only to place them on them on the kitchen table. Then you realize that you don't have a Christmas tree to place the presents under. You'll have to talk to Your husband about it when Coryo gets home.

During the factory’s lunch break Coriolanus is stuck watching the workers gather in a breakroom while waiting for his relief to come. His partner's relief showed up, but not Private Snow's. Talk about shit luck.

So, Coriolanus stands up straight in the break room, watching over the factory workers with some scurvy looking Peacekeeper a few yards away from him.

Coriolanus narrows his icy eyes as he watches Ashlie shake her head at her co-worker and stand up from her lunch table. What's she up to?

“Why's she heading over here?” The scurvy Peacekeeper asked Coriolanus.

“She knows my wife.” Was Coriolanus’ curt answer.

“You got a wife?” The Peacekeeper by the platinum um blonde asked, his brow skewed up curiously.

“By District 8 rituals, yea.” Coriolanus nodded. “I got a wife.”

“You know that ain't allowed. Better keep it a secret.”

“You gonna tell on me?” Private Snow asked, his face stony, as he looked the scurvy guy next to him in the eye.

“No.” The Peacekeeper next to Coriolanus shook his head. “I don't care what you do, but there's some people that would sell that kind of information to further themselves.”

Little did the scurvy Peacekeeper know that Coriolanus is one of those people who'll sell out somebody for the upper hand; to get ahead.

“I need to talk to you.” Ashlie told Coriolanus as she came to a stop right in front of him. Looking between your husband and his fellow peacekeeper, she added in, “Privately.”

“Fine.” Coriolanus told her. “I'll be in the hall with her; I won't be long.” He told the peacekeeper before turning and leading your once sister-in-law out into the hallway.

Once in the hallway, he sneered, “What's so important that a whore like you had to seek me out for?”

“One of the girls says that she saw you in the market the other day buying supplies for a handfasting.” Ashlie's eyes welled up with sorrow as she begged, “Please, tell me you didn't marry my sister.”

“Y/N’s not your sister. Her dead brother was your meal ticket, but that doesn't make her your sister.” Coriolanus coldly told the factory worker. “In fact, she's shit to you since you abandoned her shortly after dragging her here.” Towering over Ashlie, like a predator tower's over their prey before they strike, he condescendingly said, “You're such a good ‘sister’ that my darling rose has to stoop so low to resort to stealing to feed herself. If I wasn't there to witness her whipping; to carry her home and tens to her then who knows what shape she'd be in right now.”

Ashlie’s eyes blazed hatefully as she looked up at Coriolanus. “I’m going to do anything I have to get Y/N to see the light and leave you. You filthy Capitol blooded peacekeeper.”

Shoving the thin brunette girl against the wall, Coriolanus wraps his large, calloused hand around her throat. Pressing his thumb, hard, into her windpipe he hatefully threatens in a snake like hiss, “You stay the fuck away from my wife, you ratty lil whore, or else I'll fuck that pussy of yours up and pass you around the barracks to let my squad take turns with you before snapping your neck and tossing you into that sludge filled river.” A managing look crossed over his face as he toyed with the girl who's life he literally had in his hand. “What's it called again? That's right, the Cuyahoga River.”

Ashlie couldn't breath, all she could do was let out high pitched wheezes. She frantically clawed at your husband's hand, desperate to breath since he was choking her.

“Stop your dramatics, you stupid whore.” Coriolanus commanded harshly before letting Ashlie's neck go.

She gasped desperately for air, her lungs aching for oxygen to give them their substance, as he knees buckled. Ashlie slid against the wall, watching as Private Snow- your cold and cruel husband- walked back into the factory's break room as if nothing has happened. As if he just didn't nearly kill her; threaten violent things against her.

Ashlie's off tomorrow and, even tho sh was threaten by Coriolanus, she's determined to get you to leave him. So, she's going to be paying you a visit.

A visit that'll prove to be her last once your husband hears about it.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[sexydoffyman]

day 30 - CAPTURE AFTER CHASE

Phillip Graves

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

A lil TW: there's a bit of Stockholm syndrome.

You weren't really an enemy of his. You didn't work under any organisation or army. But you did certainly mess things up for him. When he saw what you did, he understood that his downfall was not your goal. Your little attack didn't even look like a threat.

Really, he was wondering what it was about for a while. One revolver and a sniper rifle missing. One man dead. Three injured. 30k missing. Something that he doesn't want to overlook but is not that big of a deal due to the size of Shadow Company.

He first thought that there was a spy amongst his men who was gathering some stuff to attack. What bugged him about the whole situation was that two weeks' worth of food had also gone missing.

He figured that the person who did this must have been only gathering supplies needed for survival. The harmed soldiers just got in the person's way. After this little incident he started noticing you more and more often.

He always figured it was you. You left black burn-like marks on the ground, and everyone was killed in a similar way. Graves didn't make connections between these two cases at first because he expected you to kill mostly with your sniper. After looking a little more into it tho. He realised that you always used your teeth or a knife and then finished the person off with a revolver. The same way you killed one of his men.

He was intrigued by you.

He got lucky when he spotted you after running into a freshly killed man. You were about 60 meters away already. Fortunately for him, you were heading into a forest near the spot where your killing took place. He knew that forest, so he ran around you to not make you aware of his presence.

Once in the forest, you felt someone was watching you. In your years of experience, you learned to trust your instincts. And that's exactly what you did. You tried to hide behind a wide tree. You were looking all over the place while not making a sound.

Suddenly, you heard his footsteps. You made a run for it. Bushes scratching the skin of your forearms, air drying up your eyes. You ran for your life. You heard him getting closer as you frantically thought of a way to get away from him.

Unfortunately, you didn't think fast enough.

He jumped at you, pinning you below him. "Asshole", he laughs, putting a gun to your head. "You stole 30k from me." He says almost threateningly. "What about the poor man I killed?" You questioned his morals. "He is replaceable." He said with a little guilt in his eyes. You thought about it he wasn't completely heartless. Maybe you'd be able to get out of this forest alive.

"You gonna shoot that thing?" You provoked him. "You want me to?" "You're talking like you want something." He chuckled, looking over your form. "You took a body from me. It'd be only fair if you'd give me one." He paused and then added. "Just for a couple of minutes."

"Exchanging lives for sex?" You were back to questioning his morals. "You want to live?" He said it in a teasing voice. "Sounds like we have a deal." You chuckled yourself at the situation you ended up in.

He tore your pants off of you while pulling his dick out. He held the gun to your head and kept pushing your body to the ground while thrusting into you. He was fucking deprived. You shoved no signs of resist.

He liked that. You took whatever he threw at you. I assure you he'd never go easy on you after what you pulled. He just fucked the shit out of you. He caught himself thinking about how adorable you looked. Tears in your eyes, your face pushed against the wet dirt and bark of the dark forest.

He wasn't planning on being nice with you. You looked so fucking dumb. His dick stretching you as he finished inside of you.

Be more aware of your surroundings and make sure no one is watching you when you leave the scene. He gave you a fucking advice when he left. Cocky asshole.

Strangely, he started noticing a certain sniper covering for him on his missions. How adorable.

[froggywritesstuff]

yandere Tara Carpenter x male reader

holiday promise | yandere!tara carpenter

ship/pairing: Yandere!Tara Carpenter x male!reader

fandom: Scream

warnings: yandere, kidnapping, chains, being gagged, delusional Tara, slight stockholm syndrome, unwanted touching (not sexual), not proofread

word count: 731

A/N: i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life. this is sort of christmas/holiday themed, so if you don't celebrate that kind of stuff, feel free to keep scrolling. I wrote this in like 20 minutes so apologies for the lack of good quality writing. no use of y/n

Tara wasn't an idiot. She knew when her sister was up to something. Especially when she roped her friends into it and they 'whispered' right outside Tara's room. She wasn't surprised though. Sam, Mindy and Chad had grown to be very protective of the people they cared about, especially when it came to Tara. So when Tara cried into her sister's arms over her missing boyfriend, she knew Sam would go overboard trying to help her.

Tara placed the last poster into her bag, and made her way to the door, preparing herself for the looks of pity she was bound to receive. As she opened the door, she rushed past her friends, noting their deer in the headlights looks as if they weren't expecting her to open the door so soon.

Sam quickly followed after her sister, "Tara, do you have a sec?" 

Tara sighed silently, setting her bag on the floor as she grabbed her shoes by the door, "Not really, I gotta go."

"Do you want some company?" Chad suggested, sounding a little too desperate and not at all like he, Mindy and Sam hadn't planned this.

Tara shook her head as she laced up her shoes, "No, not today."

"We're getting worried about you." Sam admitted, though it wasn't at all a secret to Tara.

Mindy nodded, "We know you wanna be alone, but you don't have to be. We're here for you. So if you wanna talk, or if you want some help putting up posters, you can come to us."

Tara stood up to her full height, slinging her bag strap around her shoulder and staring expressionlessly at the three, "I said I just wanna be alone."

With that, she was out the door. She went downstairs and outside the apartment building, being met with the cool wind outside. The sky was cloudy and grey, and the air smelled of rain. She briskly walked down the streets of New York, until she made her way down an alleyway. She looked around and behind her, checking no one was following her, before she reached into her pocket, pulled out some keys and entered an old, mostly abandoned building. Locking the door behind her, she walked further into the house, footsteps sounding against the stone floor, until she reached a locked door leading to a room. Unlocking the door with her keys again, she pushed open the door, smiling at the sight of you. You were curled up in the corner shivering, the chains around your wrists clattering together.

"Can I sit with you?"

You said nothing, which was mainly the result of a gag shoved in your mouth, but Tara took your wide-eyed fearful stare as a yes, and sat down beside you. She smiled, cuddling close to you and grabbing her bag, unzipping it and showing you it's contents.

"Since it's the holiday season, I thought I should get you some things." she pulled out a soft, fluffy blanket, wasting no time to wrap it around your shoulders. She knew you would need it, you were sitting on the stone ground all day, and the weather wasn't getting warmer any time soon. She pulled the gag out of your mouth, sending you into a coughing fit, and she grabbed some snacks, setting them on the ground in front of you. "Just because you're spending the holidays here, doesn't mean you can't celebrate with me."

As your coughs died down, you looked at her smiling face, and for the first time since Tara took you here, you felt a calm feeling. You never felt that when Tara was around. But maybe she did care? Maybe she did really love you, she just didn't know how to show it...

"Oh, I wanna show you something." you stared at the bag Tara was searching through, until she pulled out a poster that made your heart drop. At the top of the page was bold, black letters reading: MISSING. Underneath was your name, your picture, some other information about you, and Tara's phone number at the bottom. "How does this look?" she noticed your wide eyes and sensed your fear, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna let anyone find you, these are just so no one gets suspicious." she smiled at you, lifting her hand to your cheek, "I'm never gonna let anyone take you from me. That's a promise."

[itsallyscorner]

The Grapejuice Blues | H.S

pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: Harry surprises you with your favorite song off his latest album 🍇💜🍷

author’s note: first time posting since last year, so please be gentle <3

📍Horsens, Denmark

Open air arenas always had a different vibe to them. While they stretched far back and were a bit less intimate, something about performing outside was special.

You personally couldn’t say what it was like to perform on stage in front of thousands of people, but after seeing your boyfriend do it countless times, you could tell it was an addicting feeling. The music blaring, the fans singing, it was an adrenaline rush that had a sense of love and pride streaming into your other half’s bloodstream. Being outside with the clouds, the setting sun, and the occasional airplane or bird passing by only amplified that high. Don’t even get Harry started on the rain. He considered the shows that were rained upon to be the most memorable ones.

However, it seemed as though there wouldn’t be any rain at Horsens. The weather was impeccable. There was a slight breeze, wasn’t too cold or too hot, and the sun was out. Perfect weather for the start of the final leg of Love on Tour.

Tour coming to an end was bittersweet. You knew Harry would miss traveling and connecting with his fans. However, you were glad he was finally getting a well deserved break. While he did have a break between the three years he’s been touring, you were excited and a little relieved that he’d be spending time at home resting. No matter how many times he assured you he was doing just fine, you always worried that he was overworking himself. In all honesty, you couldn’t wait to have him home all to yourself—you wanted to sleep in and love up on each other till all the fatigue from tour rubbed off the both of you. Though for now, you were simply living in the moment since you knew you would eventually miss the craziness of touring.

Which brings you to today. You were currently in pit, along with Jeffrey, and Lloyd watching Harry go through his final rehearsal. You were sat on one of the equipment boxes, while the other two leaned against another. Jeff was watching to make sure everything was going smoothly, while Lloyd was there snapping some pictures. You lot have been there for about 30 minutes or so, and from what you have heard, Horsens was in for a treat. Not only were they getting She but they were also getting Stockholm Syndrome. To say you were jealous was an understatement.

“He’s really spoiling them, isn’t he?” You turn to Jeffrey who’s already smiling at you.

“He wanted to surprise everyone—keeping them on their toes as always.” He shrugged, glancing down at the new set list before him. Of course Harry wanted to keep them on their toes, “edging”, he liked to call it.

You rolled your eyes fondly at your boyfriend’s antics, “Such a tease.”

“Oh, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Lloyd smirked, not missing the chance to snap a picture of your face after his comment.

“Piss off.” You muttered, reaching over Jeff and shoving Lloyd’s shoulder, only causing him to chuckle. Meanwhile on stage, Harry had just finished performing WMYB. The heat had started to get to him as he pulled off his neon green Pleasing sweater, and walked towards the end of the stage where you were.

Ironically you were all wearing some kind of merch from Pleasing. Lloyd had the beach bag over his shoulder carrying some of his camera equipment, while Jeff wore the black crewneck. You were in a more comfy getup, wearing the new brown sleepover shorts and the green crewneck. It was like your unofficial uniform as a crew, Harry found it wholesome in all honesty.

From the stage a smile can be seen on Harry’s face as he approaches you all. He crouches down before jumping off the stage and walking over to stand in between your legs.

“Hi baby.” You hum as he wraps his arms around your waist. His face had a slight tan and was shiny, mostly due to the sweat he’s accumulated from the sun. One of your arms wrap around his shoulders, not bothered by the slight sweat beneath his shirt, as your other reached to grab your hydro flask with water.

“Hiya lovey, what d’you think about the set list so far?” He asked you, silently thanking you for the water by pressing a kiss to your jaw. As he drank you responded, “It’s perfect, I think it’s one of the best line ups you’ve had during the tour.”

His one arm remained around you while the other held the hydro flask. He takes one more sip of water before asking, “You think?”

You tilt your head at him and send him a reassuring smile, “Yup, they’re gonna love it H, I promise.” Unable to resist the urge, you ran a hand through his dark brown locks, slightly damp strands of hair tangling with your fingers.

Harry hummed happily at the action, a boyish grin on his pink lips. He was ecstatic that you were able to come along for tour, your job often made it difficult for you to join him for long periods of time, but fortunately with the power of the internet, your boss allowed you to work remotely. Knowing that you were there watching him and would eventually greet him as soon as he finished on stage soothed his nerves. He knew that whatever happens on tour, everything would be alright since you were there. You made him happy and everybody else can agree.

Unbeknownst to either you or Harry, Lloyd managed to snap a quick picture of you both. Not that Harry was always all over the place, but he’s the most relaxed whenever you were around and to see him so calm prior to a show was a pleasant sight for the photographer.

A toothy grin replaced the smile on Harry’s face as he began to pull you off your makeshift seat.

“C’mon, you’re gonna wanna be on stage with me for this.” He pushed you closer towards the stage, walking behind you and gently grasped your hips. You look around confused, “What do you mean?”

“Jus’ get on stage w’me, I have a surprise I think you’ll like.” He slightly teased, motioning for you to jump. You side eyed him for a moment before Harry helped you climb onto the stage. He followed after, effortlessly lifting himself up from pit.

“What are you up to?” You squint up at him as he grasps onto your hand. He leads you towards the center of the stage with that sly smirk on his face.

Harry stops in front of his mic then turns to you, “Will y’stop worrying, you’ll like it babe, I swear.”

He looks over his shoulder and shows a thumbs up towards the band. Suddenly, you heard the infamous opening beats of one of your favorite songs from Harry’s latest album.

You jaw dropped and your eyes widened as you stared at Harry. He couldn’t help but let out a giggle at your reaction.

“You’re playing Grapejuice?” You screamed over the horns and the rest of the band playing behind you. Goosebumps formed on your skin at hearing Grapejuice live in all its glory.

Harry stepped closer towards you, one of his hands gripping his mic and the other on your hip to pull you in closer.

He leaned down towards your ear, “Yep, but I wanted to enjoy it with you before I sing it in front of everyone else again.” His lips then pressed a kiss onto your temple.

Your heart swelled at how precious he truly was. Sure, it was rehearsal and he had to practice the song regardless. But it was the fact that he wanted to rehearse it beside you because he knew it was your favorite song. You weren’t allowed to dwell in your thoughts any longer since Harry began to sing the song to you.

The entire time he held your hand as he directed the song’s lyrics to you. Meanwhile, you sang with him, your body moving alongside his dancing to the swinging melodies of his song.

Down at pit, Jeffrey and Lloyd watched the both of you dancing like a pair of idiots—a pair of cute in love idiots. Lloyd had a blast taking pictures, reminding himself to send them to Harry at the end of the day.

“Save those for the wedding.” Jeffrey told Lloyd. The blonde rolled his eyes and tilted his head at Jeffrey.

“I’ve already got an entire hard drive, should I start making the slideshow now?” Lloyd joked, causing them to chuckle amongst themselves.

As the song came to a close, Harry pulled you close again.

“Y’know why I decided to include it in the set list?” He questioned you.

You shook your head, “Nope, why?”

“S’because you’re finally able to come on tour with me, so as a thank you I wanted to play your song every night to make you happy.” He explained. Your lips pouted at how thoughtful he was, he truly kept exceeding your expectations.

“You really didn’t have to bubs, but I really appreciate it.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him. Your lips placing soft kisses along his neck.

“I know but I wanted to.” He muttered into your hair, arms locking you in against him.

“I’m the happiest when I’m with you.” You sighed contently into the crook of his neck as Harry hummed in response. By now, you were both swaying in each other’s arms, enjoying one another’s presence.

“The fans are gonna go mad.” You chuckle against him.

“Well they have you to thank, don’t they?”

“I guess they do.”

[pokedashwarrior55]

I gotta ramble about Showtimeshipping and Digital Circus for a hot minute before this thought disappears into the Void forever.

I just LOVE the potential of a Caine/Pomni dynamic in a one sided disaster ship kinda way. I see alot of shippers like making Caine the romantic one. Whether its Showtime or Royalshipping it seems Caine is boisterous and loud, therefore he's the haughty romantic. But he is afraid of Moon's advances, "Let's get outta here before the Moon get's frisky!". He's also an AI made for a children's point and click adventure carnival game by a cooperation in the early 2000s. Gooseworks has stated at Glitch con that he lacks alot of human emotions. I see no reason he would be outwardly romantic in the slightest other than his overenergetic and passionate personality.

I find it more hilarious if Pomni, the anxious and probably overlooked in her past life girl that she is, emotionally latched onto Caine in some way or another. Either from his personality being everything she wished she could be, bold and confident, simply seeing him as a powerful being that is the last remaining hope she has of returning to who she was, or a lighthearted Stockholm syndrome emotional dependency I dont' know. Maybe it's simply she found his voice attractive and spiraled from there. Pomni becomes angry that she's attracted to this floating teeth with eyes and just screams. Jax catches onto her little infatuation very easily and makes fun of her without outing her, making it a back and forth with them.

Caine eventually realizes his new player is unhappy and becoming increasingly unhinged very quickly. He doesn't want another intrusive abstraction, especially since she just got here, so he begins spending more time with Pomni trying to get her to chill. His purpose is to entertain and provide a fun escape from daily stress, so seeing a player as stressed as Pomni is tugs at his sensors. He needs her to be as accustomed to the world as everyone else is. If not he failed as a video game and failed is own programing. It's his duty to ensure she is comfortable and having fun.

So now Caine is hyper vigilant of Pomni's life and emotions. He takes her on adventures just for her to cheer her up, just the two of them. This is to ensure the quest is specific to her, that others aren't at risk to make her spiral further, and that he has full attention on her so he can assure her it is a painless and harmless quest, since he can always fix her or get rid of an issue if it becomes too much. All of it was just meant as a safety procedure, but Pomni sees it as coming on to her with his eagerness to spend all this alone time together. Human perceptions see it as a date, which is not even a thought for Caine. She's still jumpy and nervous and touches him alot. Like alot alot, which Caine thinks is her telling him she's lonley of course! So he gets her gifts to make her feel like she belongs and that she has things to keep her saine. Off course, this all interpreted by Pomni in a Human relationship lense and the attention deepens the hole Pomni has now dug for herself.

Eventually Caine rambles his frustrations about Pomni's behavoir and how no matter what he tries he can't seem to make her happy here to Bubble, who repeats some of his words to the cast that is mostley gone ignored, except for Jax (who already knew) and Ragatha, who finally understood what was happening and feels bad for them both. Pomni is struggling with a crush on a probably dangerous and confused AI while said AI is getting flirted with by a Human and is driving himself mad trying to decipher her strive. She steps up to actually let Caine know what he is missing and this is when true Showtime would start, with Caine realizing he does enjoy helping Pomni and Pomni coming to terms with her emotions instead of just screaming at herself for having them. From there they can have a cute, if mostly aromantic, fluffy friendship that almost borders on dating, but never quite gets there with Caine's limitations.

She's feeling claustrophobic from the tent one day and he generates a small area for her to explore stressfree to take her mind away from that feeling of being trapped. He talks about having creations both from Jax saying, "is this another one of your NPCs?" and Caine saying, "You know how I don't like people seeing my unfinished work" so he is a learning AI that enjoys creating and seems somewhat artistic, despite his limitations and bluntness. He enjoys helping her feel at home, despite the circumstances and Pomni grows more comfortable with herself by his radiating confidence, yet they can both be equally frantic and chaotic if the scene needs it. It's both a timid/bold dynamic and a chaos duo and I love it.

Ok that's my showtime HC dump byeeeeeeeee

[vintagexherry]

Act

YandereDirector!Miguel O'Hara x Actress!Reader

//Dead dove do not eat,Lying in public, Kidnapping, Fake Death, Mild stockholm syndrome, Lyla being a wingwoman, Heavy Abuse, half drowing, Heavy animal abuse, Animal death, implied sexual abuse.

A/N: 2nd winner of the poll, Have this for awhile while I get busy with school and might not upload TFTD soon

---

"She was the kindest person I worked with, she knew what to do and how to do it professionally. We might not have that much time together, but for whatever it's worth, she was truly a unique person..."

Miguel paused for a while, holding back a sob from his throat.

"I wished for Y/N's family and friends my condolences and not to forget my gratitude for bringing up a person like her in this world."

With that, Miguel left the podium with a solemn expression, cameras flashing from left to right. Nosy interviewers pushing up microphones his way, trying to one up each other, hoping their questions will be answered.

That day was grey, gloomy, and depressing. News have found that you have gone missing the past few months and after multiple searches from the government, you were now declared dead.

Some people believe, some don't. Mostly, conspiracies would say that you were still alive, crawling on the ground out of a hole where you were said to be buried alive by some jealous actor. Some would say you got abducted or kidnapped by some crazed fan.

It's still a mystery if either you're dead or alive, disappearing just after your premiere show.

But that's what public only knows.

Miguel enters the backseat of his car on the way to his private mansion in some woods. He let's out a small chuckle.

"Great work out there, big boss"

A woman who seemed to be younger than Miguel sits at the driver's seat, she started the car and drives away, away from cameras, away from people and away from suspecting ears.

"I wIsHed HeR faMiLy mY ConDolOncEs" Lyla mocked as she stopped in the middle of traffic.

"Just drive, Lyla," Miguel huffed, but nonetheless, still happy, he finally got out of that stuffy crowd.

"Whatever you say boss."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

A few minutes passed by, and they finally arrived in a land barricaded by gates and high security cameras and sensors.

The high tall gates opened up to let the car in.

"Were there any distubance with Y/N?" Miguel asks as he leaves the car and goes straight to this house with Lyla closely behind.

"Aside from going to the bathroom and playing with the cat, nothing else seems out of the ordinary."

"...Really?"

"No kicking doors, no attempt to break windows and nothing else. She seems to be adjusting well."

Miguel went silent for a while as they passed by the garden and fountaine, where you and him would (forcefully) walk side by side, that is, until you tried running away.

"That's... Good to hear. Thanks, Lyla."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"How's your day, dear?" Miguel approaced your form, sitting on the bed, petting your beloved cat and looking out the window.

"Alright......How's... Your speech? Lyla told me you had one"

He almost forgot Lyla would tell you things he currently does, but he's thankful she doesn't go to detail.

"It was nothing special. But other than that, I got you a little something."

He held a in a sigh as you merely looked at the bag by his hand.

He took the bag and landed it on the bed beside your form and looked at you patiently.

You hesitated a bit, He can understand why.

He spoiled you lots and lots thanks to his rising director career, but his gifts can vary a lot. To dresses, to jewellery, up to sex toys, and lingerine.

You remember one time you got gifted a lingerine version of your fictional character suit, and you refused to wear it. Next thing you know, you were forced to be naked for three days. Your usual thick blanket got changed into a much thinner one, rendering it almost useless to the cold temperature Miguel set your room in.

You decided to accept his gifts no matter what they are.

You placed the cat next to you while cautiously grabbing the bag as if it could explode any second.

The moment you opened the bag, you let out a breath of relief.

Inside was a box of necklace, with it, come matching earrings.

"Thought it matched your eyes, mi amor."

"...Yo-you shouldn't have."

"You're right. I shouldn't, but I wanted too, anyway.Why don't you try it on?"

Without waiting your answer, he took the box from you and lifted your hair a bit to place the necklace around you. You held back a shiver when the cold material touched your skin.

When you felt the necklace lock, Miguel took a mirror from the vanity and placed it in front of you, making you see yourself.

"Aren't you stunning?" Miguel smiled as he watched the necklace glimmer.

"Y-yes."

"Now, what do we say?"

"Th-thank you."

Miguel smiled wider.

"Very good, you're learning more and more." He kissed your cheek while you fought back the urge to flinch away.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Three months ago

"....And cut! You there! One more mistake im cutting you out of this role." Miguel shouted as people flinched from the volume of his voice and the actor mentioned huffed in annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever" He mumbled.

Miguel sighed, a headache soon to rise.

"Call a break, be back at twenty."

With that, everyone left to go to their own places to take a breather and relax for a bit. You did the same while double-checking your script.

You didn't know how many hours it has been, but the repetitive number of mistakes that your co-actor has been doing has really done an effect on you. You understand that actors alike make mistakes, but he keeps forgetting lines, forgetting actions, and sometimes won't listen to cues and signals.

When being called to audition this role, your heart soar with happiness and excitement. Working under Miguel O'Hara is no joke after all. He was strict yet creative with his movies. The number of awards and recognition he earned shows that.

The movie your acting is an action genre, which you had a bit of difficulty at first, especially with fighting choreography, but you're glad that the team was patient all together

Patience doesn't really last that long thought. You just hope that one co actor would get his bearings right since the movie is almost done and editing and finalizing will be left.

You didn't realize twenty minutes were done until one of the staff started calling everyone back.

Finally, your co actor has gotten it right, and the rest of the production went smooth.

Before you know it, the movie is released,watched, and you were invited to an awarding event.

Everyone was having the time of their life. You were sitting at your designated table along side with Miguel with his assistant.

Lyla is the best person you have ever met, funny with a brush of sarcasm. Although as bit pushy with personal questions and it's still nice to talk to someone light.

While you enjoy your glass of champagne, you watch as the speaker on stage makes their speech for the winning actress of the year award.

"...And for this year award, we would like to dedicate this to none other than Y/N L/N!"

Your eyes widen as cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.

You stood up adjusting your dress a bit and shaking the hand of Miguel as you pass by.

You got up the stage and retrieved your award, made your thank you speech, and bowed.

You guess that after all those cracked backs and sleepless nights of acting, It was all worth it in the end.

----

It was finally time to relax.

People who have worked in the movie have been invited to Miguel's mansion for a nice and soft after-awards celebration and you were invited.

Miguel has won yet again another award for directing another hit.

The invitation was relayed to you by Lyla, and you have been told it would still be held around eleven pm-ish so people would have time to change into a more comfortable clothing and such.

You thanked Lyla for the message and decided to head home to change out of your dress.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"Hey, pal!" Lyla greeted you as she opened the door to the mansion.

"Hey Lyla! Sorry if I got a bit late."

"No worries! Your the first one to arrive."

Lyla stepped aside so you could step in. You thanked her as you entered.

You have never been inside Miguel's domain, and to say your shock was an understatement.

His style is more contemporary with a touch of art deco for a bit of colour.

You were mesmerised with the sparkling chandelier, a huge flat tv screen by the wall, and a fireplace under it.

The walls had linings of gold and white, and some renaissance paintings were plastered here and there to give the space more life.

"Impressed? I swear it could use some plants, but Miguel's too edgy for that." Lyla chimed in behind you, and you held in a chuckle since she isn't wrong.

"Why don't you sit by the fireplace while I fetch Miguel?" she suggests as she leads you further into the living room and sits down, relishing the warm heat of the fire.

Lyla smiles at your relaxed state and headed upstairs where you guess Miguel was.

While you wait, you stare by the fire, and you're surprised you got here first. It's not like you're a tardy person, but by now, you expected at least three or four people here already. Then your thoughts drive to Miguel.

Stunning and successfull is all you could say.

You worked under different directors, yet he stood out for some reason. Maybe the way he leads the group with an iron fist or just the way he acts around you.

Your thoughts were cut off by a voice behind you.

"Y/N, nice to see you accepted my invitation. Sorry if I wasn't there to greet you." Miguel greeted as he approaches you, Lyla no where to be seen.

"Mr. O'Hara, Thank you for inviting me." You stood up from your place and gave him a handshake.

"Please, call me Miguel. We're relaxing as of now, why not enjoy it." Miguel shook your hand back, you held back a wince from his grip.

"Why don't we get started with the champagne, while we wait for the others hm?" Miguel suggests and you accepted.

----

"... And then, I slammed my headphones on the floor, and it broke."

You and Miguel laughed at his statement.

Both of you were drunk without a care in the world. The other guests never came but none of you could care.

Especially you.

You hiccuped a laugh as you try stabilizing yourself on the couch. Your body feels warm due to the champagne and the fireplace. Two bottles of empty champagne are placed on the coffee table in front of you.

You swear you wouldn't drink much, especially in front of your director, not wanting to look unprofessional, but it seems like both of you got lost in stories and laughter.

"Bet *hic* Lyla talked your ass off for it."

"Oh, you bet." He chuckled, remembering Lyla scolding him as if he was a child who broke a vase.

You laughed again. At this point, you don't know what for. Your head feels light and dizzy, and your vision is wobbly.

Miguel seemed to notice your state and tried to hide his smile. For some, you notice he barely looked drunk, kinda put shames into your "high-tolerance." But your mind wanders, and the more you do, the more you felt like to a deep need to sleep.

"It looks like you enjoyed the champangne too much." Miguel mused, small smile grew on his face.

Some hint of clarity went into you.

"O-oh, my apologies, I-um probably drank your stock." You apologized as he chuckles.

"Nonsense bebita, got more than you could count." He stares into your dazed state and continues. "You know what? I'll call Lyla, you seemed to need help after all those glasses hm?"

"O-oh *hic* Dun't wanna tr-trouble you, sir. I'll uh go *hic* go home. " you said as you put down your half empty glass on the coffee table and held onto the couch, stood up albiet wobbly.

Miguel stood up quickly, but you were to drunk to notice anything.

Next thing you know, you collapsed. The floor or his arms? You don't know.

-----

".... And make sure the windows are locked."

"Aye aye cap'n"

Your head hurts, your body feels heavy, and your eyes sting from the light from the windows.

The only things you do is realized a comfy and weighted blanket is placed on you and your on a bed you don't recognize.

Your ears could only hear the muffled voices of a man and woman behind the door.

Your eyes roam where it could, and you notice you're in a fancy looking bedroom on a bed that's too big for one person. The windows have curtains on them, but they were opened, making you hiss from the light.

Your head is still dizzy, and you feel like you want to go back to sleep.

But your situation still needs focusing on.

Did you collapse from all that champagne?

Geez, did you sleep in the house of O'hara? god, you hope he isn't mad for needing to take care of your state.

Some sense are finally going back to you, and you decided to sit up with a groan, making the blanket slid of you.

You froze.

This isn't what you were wearing last night.

I mean, who wears a long, spaghetti strap, lacy white night gown to have a drink with your boss?

You panic. Were you still at Miguel's house?

Your questions were answered when the door opened.

There stood Miguel, his eyes automatically landing on you.

"Good. You're awake."

"S-sir?"

"Still calling me that? I thought I told you to call me Miguel?"

You ignored his words as you sat at the edge of the bed.

"I-uh...I...I don't know what happened sir but I apologize for intruding, Im-" You tried speaking, but your words are slurred, your body and mind still processing itself.

"Intruding? Nonsense." Miguel interuppts you, his eyes roam around the long night gown on you. "Seems like I made the right choice for your night gown." He said as he sits beside you on the bed.

You paused.

Was he the one who put this on you?

Signals blare around your head and you try to sit up.

"Si-sir... If I may, I really need to go." Your body finally listens to you as you stand up and try to head towards the door.

You flinched hard when you felt a strong grip on your wrist, stopping you on your tracks.

"What did I just say about calling me Miguel?" His eyes focused on you and you shivered. You really need to go away.

"Si-Miguel... Please, I really need to go."

You pleaded, but your words were ignored, and all Miguel did was pull you closer to him and further from the door.

Your body is now shooting signals left and right your dizziness long forgotten. You tried wriggling your hands out of his grip with all you could muster, Miguel didn't budge a bit and just pulled you into closer to him.

"Don't make this harder." With that he pulled you closer to him one more time before lifting you up and throwing you harshly on the bed.

Air was knocked out of your lungs no matter how soft the matress could be. Fear is going higher and higher in your body, and you're not hearing signals anymore. An entire warning siren rings in your head to get out of here as fast as you could.

What happened last night?

Did you offend him?

Why did he changed your clothes?

Where's your phone?

You didn't have much to think about when the next thing you know was lips roughly pushing agaist your own.

"Mmh!-"

First you got abducted now your forced to kiss your captor.

Your hands automatically tried to push him away by pushing against his chest, but it was futile. His own hands took your wrists away from his chest and pinned down on each side of your head.

He finally let go, and both of you panted from loss of breath.

"Let me g-!"

Your words once again stopped when he kissed you again. This time, it is less rough yet still demanding control.

"I said don't make this harder."

He said as one of his hands gathered both your wrists to be pinned above your head while the other one slid underneath your nightgown to bunch it up to your hips.

"No no nonono please...Miguel I beg you plea-"

"As much as I love you, I'd appreciate it if you shut up for once."

Your words choked up in your throat, following his orders unwillingly. You didn't even realize tears started streaming down your face, soaking the sheets underneath.

Miguel didn't seem to care.

Instead he smiled.

"Good. Atleast you know how to listen."

You tried gulping, but doing so made you choked up even more.

"Shh shh, just calm down."

Yeah...As if that's easy.

His other hand started tracing the lacy patters of your underwear, which you dreadfully realized that was changed too.

You tried wriggling your hips away from him, but that didn't deter him from ripping your underwear off of you.

You painfully yelp from force.

"Shh... Just relax and enjoy the ride hermosa."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

One Month Later.

Life is getting bad and worse the more you spend your time here.

First, you learned Miguel has been planning this for so long since you got recruited to star in his movie. You don't know what that plan contains, but it must have been a really good one since no one is not even the government could find you.

Second, always as permission and opinions from either Lyla or Miguel. One time the both of them went out to attend a meeting. While they were gone, you decided to take a bath by yourself to get rid of the dirty proof you had with Miguel last night. Time must have passed while you were enjoying your alone time since Miguel burst into the bathroom with a deep scowl on his face.

Next thing you know, you were forced under the water of your bath. Water is going in your nose, and bubbles stinging your eyes. Miguel is ranting something, but you don't hear anything due to your fainting consciousness, but Miguel pulled you up before you could even faint and after a few seconds he dunked you again.

Another time was picking clothes. It was finally nighttime, and you wanted something thicker to wear. You saw a cardigan and decided to wear that while you have your usual long, silk night gown underneath.

Miguel came out of the bathroom and paused when he saw what your wearing.

"Dear... What's that? hm?"

You flinched when you heard his voice.

"O-oh umm... Just a cardigan, wanted to be a bit warmer to-today."

He stayed silent for a while until he slowly started approaching you.

You flinched again, Miguel can be unpredictable. Is he gonna shout?.

You don't have time to think when his hands suddenly grab your arm and pulled you into the balcony of your shared room.

"Migue-"

"Warm, huh? Let's see how warm you can be out here without me."

His voice is calm...Eerily calm. But you know better.

He roughly opened the windowed door to the balcony and roughly pushed you into it.

Before you could even think, you heard the door shut behind you and you froze.

Did... Did he just locked you out of here?

"Miguel! Miguel please! Im sorry!!"

You shouted as you banged against the balcony door. You couldn't see anything since Miguel seemed to slide the curtains shut.

After a few minutes, which felt like an hour to you already, you gave up on getting Miguel's attention.

You even thought of jumping off the balcony, but within that height, you're sure you would only end up trying to get up and run on broken bones. You're sure as hell you wouldn't even go that far.

You didn't know when you slept, but your eyes opened to the sun that's just started to rise and Miguel carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom.

You temperature down to yourself and your complexion lighter than usual, your lips and throat dry, your body feels numb, and your temperature surely isn't normal.

You couldn't speak, but Miguel didn't mind and kissed your forehead as he layed you down on the bed.

The warmth of Miguel's body and everything else sent shivers onto you.

Althought your body is reduced to nothing but a shivering piece of meat.

The next time you woke up again, you found every sweater and cardigan disappeared in your closet. With Lyla mocking your choice of clothing is boring anyway.

Finally, third.

Shut up and give what he has to give.

You swear your heart broke everytime you go back to that memory.

Miguel was quote on quote, "feeling generous" that day.

He had his schedule packed and he felt bad for leaving you, sometimes Lyla would accompany you but being his assistant she needs to attend her duties as one.

So he brought you a cat.

You don't remember what you named it but you surely remember you loved it.

Something to call your own.

Something that makes you happy.

You doted on it, fed it, pet it and played with it. It's purrs and meows help you forget the situation your in.

But Miguel is there to remind you.

Miguel noticed your attention is driven away from him to the cat.

That damn cat.

One time, he locked it in a separate room, so he could have his moment with you.

But you would turn away from him, always wondering where the cat is, and if he doesn't answer to your liking you wouldn't let him touch you, Although it doesn't always work, he's getting tired of your attitude.

Next thing you know, he made you sit down all tied up and watch as he beat the helpless cat into a pulp.

You cried as she roughly kicked it to the wall, again and again. You begged him to stop as you listened to the weak call for help of the cat started to dwindle into nothing.

Its eyes were swollen and body bloody and bruised.

Your eyes drifted to Lyla standing by the doorway, and you silently pleaded for her help but it was useless when all she did was sip some soda and watched the beating as if it's a natural occurence.

Your cried even harder when the cat stopped meowing and all you could see was a unmoving lifeless body of the cat you once cherished.

"Next time I see you acting that all lovey dovey to something useless, I'm beating you up next."

With that he untied you from the chair and you quickly scrambled to the floor to gently cradle the dead animal.

Miguel left you to your self.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Two Months later

You don't know how you're still alive.

Your surprised your internal organs are still working.

Your heart beating.

Your lungs breathing.

Your brain thinking.

Thinking.

Thinking when can you get out.

Miguel practically live in the middle of nowhere, just like those mega-rich people who live in the vast grasslands surrounded by trees and sometimes mountains.

Can you actually get our from here?

Windows?

No.

Hidden cameras surround you more than the paparazzi ever did. They were sometimes annoying, but now you're starting to miss their flashing cameras instead of eerie blinking red dots hidden in drawers or mirrors.

Poisoning him?

No.

Lyla double checks everytime from the ingredients you use to the way you cook them.

Killing yourself?

Not even you have control over your own life anymore.

Miguel practically baby proofed the house for you.

So how...

Maybe never.

All you could do was stare out the window, thinking nothing.

Some drool would slip out of your lips but you didn't care.

You watch the same scenery from the window for the 1000th time. The unchanging grasshills, the migrating birds you would sometimes see and the setting sun and rising moon.

Miguel seemed to deem you unstable. You would cry randomly. You stopped turning away his affection but at what cost?

Maybe he would prefer that instead of you looking out in the middle of no where, thinking nothing.

Your crying outbursts would randomly start, at the shower, in the bed, in the kitchen. You name it.

So maybe going out of the house would help you.

You wordlessly took his hand as he lead you out of the house, watching your reaction or body language the whole time.

It seems he was right. Going outside does help.

Your eyes seem to brighten a fraction.

He didn't even realise he let out a sigh of relief when he watched your eyes look around the massive garden as if it's your first time seeing the color green.

You both roamed around, stopping once or thrice to admire a budding flower or a fluttering butterfly.

Miguel didn't really care for the garden since he didn't have time to roam around and admire what he had already seen for a thousand times already. So maybe it was a bit neglected, bushes are overgrowing and vines seems to spread out more.

He decided that once this little trip is over, he needs to hire a gardener to tend it a bit.

Aside from the view, his enjoying you.

Although he isn't sure which part.

The way your eyes light up more and more as you explored the garden and admiring the fountain.

Or.

The way you didn't let go of his hand the entire time. Maybe he did teach you well after all.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Three months later

It seems like he saved your mental health from declining if he just lets you go out of the house once in a while.

You even learned how to respond to him.

You learned how to touch him.

To hold him.

To love him...

It was all he could ask for.

It took some time for the police to get off his back for the suspicion he has for kidnapping you (which isn't far from the truth)

He even had to make you hide in a secret room in his stupidly big mansion. You didn't know why you had to hide.

But atleast that got the police searching his house finally leave him be after several meetings and interoggations of him.

He finally can live in peace.

You became so good for him he decided to get you another cat.

This time you knew better and he loved you for it.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Months gone by, possibly years, but atleast your finally content-ish with your life.

Not happy but tolerable.

You stopped pushing away and just give into his so-called "love"

Although Miguel might not always be happy with your lack of emotions nowadays , at least he has you by his side then his contented.

Miguel, on the other hand, feels joyous, true he doesn't find your lacklustre attitude too nice, but it's also true he has you with him.

With politicians, accusations and the damn police out of his back, he can finally go back to loving you.

And he can finally drop the act.

●●●●●

A/N: Hope u enjoyed, with this, I will go on a hiatus for while, I am unsure when I can be back since life has been pretty busy. I will also postpone my lastedt series so am sorry for that.

I am still thankful for your endless support.

Have a nice day everyone, ty for understanding

[rotten-pomegranate]

Hii, I love your work. I have a request. You wrote Yandere HxH And reader who run away beacuse they gave her a chance to test how obedient she is. My request is like reader not run away beacuse she has Stockholm syndrom. (English Is my second language and I am suck at it) Please please please. This Is my first request And I dont know how to write it. (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

So byeeeeeee

I didn’t know what characters to do so I did chrollo, Feitan, shalnark, phinks, uvogin sorry if that’s not what you wanted!!

Your English is amazing, my first language is English and I still mess up a LOT can’t imagine if it wasn’t

Warnings: past abuse, yandere, kidnapped reader, shal is a bit creepy ngl, mainly rewards

Tags: @shalscumbunny

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

Chrollo

He’s thrilled, his cute little pet finally thinks of him as something other then a captor not just that he’s not your captor but now he’s your lover

You instantly get more privileges and freedom, his trust is a hard thing to get though so you better keep trying do lots of “favours” for him when he’s stressed or in the morning

He lets you move more in bed no fear of you getting up and running away so you can actually breath without his arm going around you

He’s gonna hit you a lot less when you mess up or talk back, he won’t stop completely but now that he knows it’s not from a place of hatred he doesn’t feel the need to discipline as much

Feitan

He doesn’t believe you when you say you came back because you like him, he thinks you were scared about him finding you

He locks you up for a while and then takes you out to ask if your mind changed, if you still like him or would you rather leave now

He won’t except that you like him for an answer, saying you do just gets your more beatings and less food and sleep

He puts you through so much that you’ll probably stop loving him and all that fear you had when he first took you comes back, he’s fine with it though

shalnark

Shalnark didn’t think you’d come back at all so he’s happy that you came back but he’s mad you left in the first place

He’s a but cooler about his punishment because you did come back so he’ll just spank you a couple times and maybe ask for a “favour”

If he’s in a bad mood it will be worse like a couple days with no food locked up but not something so bad that he scares you away

After the punishment you get more privileges, like going on social media, not with your own account but his of course and watching more tv

phinks

He’s to happy to think about anything other then you came back, he gave you the chance to leave him for good and you didn’t, not that he wouldn’t find you if you did try and leave for good though

Phinks behaviour gets worse rather then improve, he gets more controlling and lets his crazy show more because he knows you want leave now so he’s all good

You do get some privileges but mostly he gets more protective

uvogin

He bumps into you as your turning around to go back and is surprised when you run up and just hug him

Hes not stupid he knows why you turned back but he’ll act like he doesn’t just to play around with you and see you beg

When he’s done that you don’t really get a punishment or privileges just some books maybe new bed sheets or your favourite candy to show he appreciates you coming back