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#reader is lowkey manipulative
deunmiu-dessie · 1 month
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you’ve done it again, but i must ask… does ahn’thu get reader her cat back? (that stayed on my mind even while getting plowed by an alien lmao)
♡♡𝆬 nonnie! my dove! hehe--- i like to believe he does. ahn'thu is quite literally wrapped around your finger whether you believe it or not. the two of you stay in the clearing for a week or so and when ahn'thu tells you it's time to leave, you have to throw a fit. ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ₊˚⊹♡🫧— 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑒
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"we need to go back and get mr. cuddles. i'm not leaving earth without him." ˙◠˙
ahn'thu expresses his agitation through trills as you turn away from him, crossing your arms and pouting with puffed cheeks.
despite your attempt to give him the silent treatment, it doesn't have the desired effect. ♡
it's only when you stop eating that he finally gives in, understanding the depth of your attachment to your beloved cat. (it's easy to find mr. cuddles as he's splayed out on your destroyed couch.)
and you're absolutely ecstatic, jumping into his arms and nuzzling your face into his chest when he comes back to the ship with your black and white tabby cat. ˙ᵕ˙
you're undeterred by his claims of finding the cat annoying, and his cute little grumbles as you kiss all over his face. ( he loves it )
especially when mr. cuddles curls up in ahn'thu's arms, purring in contentment.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year
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❝ You're just making sure I'm never gettin' over you ❞ [part 1/2]
Peter Parker x male!superhero!reader | break-up, light angst, mentions of nsf(t) stuff, 'nudes' | wc: 2k
masterlist; part1; part 2;
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Peter had made sure to erase any traces of (Y/N) from their once-shared apartment. He finds himself tonguing his cheek as he confronts his ex-boyfriend on 'their' rooftop with a naughty Polaroid of (Y/N) in his hands.
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Peter regretted even agreeing to spend the night out with Flash. He knew why he had but now he wished he hadn't - if he could, Peter was sure he would punch himself right in the jaw, so he'd experience this spiderweb (hah) of pain that climbed from up his jaw to his temple then and not now. The club he'd gone to was called Highball, nothing at all special other than the fact that Flash got VIP lounge access because of a friend. Peter had mulled over the thought for hours before deciding he needed something other than Grey's Anatomy to take the edge off his breakup. Flash had a whole entourage of friends and Peter mostly nodded his head to the bone-shaking music on the booth seats. He didn't hate the blonde for inviting him out. Sure, he had a somewhat complicated relationship with him, what with him being his high school bully and all. But Flash was just being nice and said something about Peter looking particularly pathetic. I probably look worse now, he thought with a muffled moan. He was hunched over his desk as he squirmed and knocked his knees together. A few concerned classmates glanced back, wondering what kind of drinks he'd gulped down to be this hungover. Sure, the brunette was clumsy, a bit messy too and came off as snarky if the smell of coffee wasn't emitting from the stains on his shirt but he was so studious! This was new. "Mr Parker" his head shot up faster than his headache liked, Peter grimaced and pursed his lips but mumbled out a 'yes, sir?' The professor eyed him apprehensively, was that slight disappointment Peter saw through his squinted eyes? "Your opinion on the current discussion, Mr Parker?" Peter bit back a snappy retort but his eyebrow twitched either way. The man had disturbed him just to ask for his opinion on whatever the fuck he'd been droning on about at 8-fucking-am? "It's uh, it's great, sir" he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose and nodding just slightly. "You...you think the modern-day slave trade is...great?" A few heads turned to stare and Peter's eyes widened. "O-Oh! Oh my God! N-No! Not at all!"
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Peter elected to be the last student out of the lecture hall, worrying over his backpack which only had two wire-bound notebooks, stray pens bouncing around, a few crumpled receipts and his web shooters. His professor gave him a pointed look as he approached the front. Peter grinned sheepishly, "I'm sorry I just..." he trailed off. How was it easier to find an excuse for web-slinging than it was for getting drunk? The guilt probably made it harder to lie, he thought. "You have been concerning me as of late, Mr Parker. You show promise. I'm willing to look past your tardiness if you're alert and aware in this class, however, lately" Peter looked at his shoes as he scratched the back of his head. "I know, sir, just been a tough couple of days" his professor arched a brow. "Something to do with Mr (L/N)?" Peter's eyes widened, fist tightening on the strap of his backpack. It's been weeks since the breakup and Peter had taken the liberty of completely cutting-off contact, he'd even emptied their apartment of (Y/N)'s belongings. Hearing his name now felt so taboo. "He's been absent for a while now...after your" he scrunched his face up in pity "...tense, sudden, uhm, distant seating from each other". "Oh God" Peter was now covering his face. Had it been that obvious? A goddamn professor had taken notice! "I'm an old man, seen it all" Peter nodded while still hiding his face "Please don't let this ruin two of my best student's grades". "Yes, sir" he groaned as he walked out of the class.
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The only comfort from today was the fact that he only had two lectures. Only one of which he had made a total buffoon out of himself. He'd have enough time to recuperate before it was time for patrol - AKA, nap time. Peter entered the apartment and greeted them aloud. No one answered. He felt stupid as he stood on the threshold of his front door, his grip on the poor doorknob making it squeak in alarm. Peter all but growled as he kicked it close and tossed his backpack on the stupid, lumpy, couch. "Come on, Petey. Lay with me" Peter grits his teeth together as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He'd been petty in telling (Y/N) to get all his shit out of the apartment. Hell, he'd even opened all the windows to air out (Y/N)'s scent after a rough fight with Doc Ock which had left him bruised and annoyingly in need of (Y/N)'s tender care. He had no privilege anymore, but he wished he had, he could hear what (Y/N) would've told him. "Shh, I got you taken care of, pretty boy. Don't worry, I'm here, shh" "Fuck" he should have probably taken off the clothes he'd worn to the club - and his lectures - before he fell onto the mattress, but he felt his throat burn with the familiar rise of a sob and he simply turned to his side. "Fuckkk" (Y/N)'s side had that familiar dip, Peter could feel it, and it felt achingly foreign since he never laid on his side. Just an arm or leg tossed over the territory, maybe even his whole body if (Y/N) had gotten him in a pliant enough mood to spread his legs apart. Peter felt as though the dip was heating up in retaliation. Equally as peeved that (Y/N) wasn't there. Where he rightfully belonged, a voice whispered in his head. Peter felt tears slip past his eyelashes and he began sniffling.
The mattress wasn't exactly something he could simply toss out. Being a college student and freelance photographer whilst paying rent for a shitty apartment in New York meant that buying a new one wasn't in his budget. The whole gig as Spiderman didn't exactly pay well. Maybe he was being dramatic, imagining a dip in the mattress had feelings? Wanting to throw it out simply because his ex-boyfriend had slept on that side? He was definitely losing it. But he could do this, he could get over a boy. He had gotten over his previous partners, albeit, they did stay as friends...and they never made him feel as (Y/N) did but he'd gotten over them. For Christ's sake, he's fought against such a fantastical array of supervillains that would rather have him dead and squished on the sidewalk. He could get over a boy. With that thought in mind, Peter peeked open his eyes to stare at (Y/N)'s side of the mattress. The shitty round rattan bedside table (Y/N) had gotten from a sidewalk and refurbished for fun left a dust imprint on the floor that made Peter sigh, he'd need to wipe that away... He paused as he noticed a gleam of white stuck between the floor and mattress, hidden slightly by the bedsheets being bunched up above it. The brunette reached down, thinking nothing of it as he pulled it out. 'Meet me here, Spidey ♡ ' That was (Y/N)'s handwriting. Peter could not not know it from the hours they spent studying together. He turned it to the front and his face erupted in such delicious shades of red he did not know it could even make, it reach all the way up his ears and down his chest. (Y/N)'s vigilante suit was bunched around his hips, skin looking ever so delicious with only the camera flash, moonlight and New York lights washing over him. Peter felt his mouth go dry as he took in every little detail that shitty little Polaroid camera he'd gotten for (Y/N) for Christmas managed to capture. His lips were exposed, teeth slightly covered by a wicked tongue that was mid-lick and one of his eyes were exposed. His mask was lopsided in a way that reminded Peter of the times they'd meet up during patrol to kiss each other until oxygen ran out. "Fuck" Peter didn't need to look at the background to know where (Y/N) was. He knew exactly where the shithead had taken this picture. "Fuckkk" This day could not get any worse.
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(Y/N) felt him before he heard him. Call it his spidey senses if you will, but (Y/N) could tell Peter apart from the millions of brunettes on this Earth even if his senses were taken. He'd worshipped that body too much to ever forget it. The usual thwip and thud came but then cool silence. (Y/N) hummed, feigning amusement as he straightened up from his crouched position on the ledge of the building. "Took you long enough, Spidey" "What is it that you want, (vigilante name)?" He turned his head ever so slightly to peer at Spiderman from over his shoulder. Peter gulped at the sight of (Y/N)'s darkened profile. The way the shadows sharpened the planes of his handsome face, his fingers ached to hold him. "Still bitchy?" And suddenly all that aching turned into ash in his mouth as his hands clenched into fists. "I don't have time for this" (Y/N) laughed, so sharp and loud it made Peter flinch. "No time for me but plenty of time for Flash Thompson and his goons?" (Y/N) faced him, taking steps towards him and a part of Peter cursed at himself for not moving back. He stood his ground, glaring at his ex-boyfriend through his mask. "You seriously think you can replace me with him?" (Y/N) sneered. "You seriously stalked me?" Peter said incredulously. A flash of hurt came across (Y/N)'s expression, his eyebrows sloping all pretty and it made Peter equally as hurt as he was angry. "No, I wasn't...I"
(Y/N) was so close, their chests nearly touching. But then he pulled away, arms crossing his chest as he turned to stare at the city instead. "I got worried" Peter swore his brows reached his hairline from that statement but he said nothing, knowing that (Y/N) was chewing on the insides of his cheeks as he tried to find the words to speak. Peter hated that he knew that about (Y/N). "I was an asshole, yelled things I didn't mean in the heat of the moment but I just, I can't sleep without knowing you're okay so I..." he took a breath, shoulders hugging his neck as he let his hands go limp by his side after a loud exhale. "I did some light stalking. Not Edward Cullen shit, I just make sure Spiderman isn't doing something stupid". Peter crossed his arms, watching (Y/N) for a long minute, urging him to continue. "You're usually back by 4 am when it's quiet, no bullshittery brewing. I checked the police scanners, so I know. I checked all the usual crime hotspots too, so I know. I checked if you were home so-" "You knew" Peter finished. (Y/N) swore he couldn't remember what made them fight so badly that he hadn't even fought when Peter told him to get the fuck out of their apartment. All he knew was the hotel mattress he had been sleeping on felt so foreign, uncomfortable, and strangely unclean - despite the hotel being on the higher end. (Y/N) couldn't sleep. Physically could not get his mind to shut up. Too spoiled by Peter's lips on his neck, drowsily sleep-talking, and Peter's arms around him holding him close so he didn't untether into the land of nightmares.
"...How'd you know I was at the club?" Peter scratched the back of his head and (Y/N)'s shoulders droop. His head shook as he chuckled. "Flash, asked me if I wanted to join" "But he knows we-" Peter scoffed as realized. Right. What better way to get your friends to get back together than drinks and dirty dancing? Nice try, Flash, Peter thought. He leaned against the door leading up to the rooftop, watching (Y/N) as he sat on the ledge, still facing each other. (Y/N) leaned on his hands, in the same pose as the Polaroid. Which prompted Peter to tongue his cheek. He reached into the neck area of his suit, mask lifting above his nose in the process, to pull out that goddamn Polaroid. His ex-boyfriend watched, crossed legs opening as Spiderman marched close and shoved it to his face. "Oh". "Oh," Peter mocked. "The 'light' stalking, I can forgive" (Y/N) perked up at that "But nudes?" With his mask partially lifted, (Y/N) could tell that Peter wasn't angry enough to be taken seriously - his lower lip trembles when he's excited. "Partial nude" he defended. "Unwanted partial nude" Peter retorted which made (Y/N) tilt his head as he pushed himself up to stand. Since Spiderman was between his legs as he towered and berated him, as (Y/N) rose, their breaths fanned across Peter's lips. They were closer than before. "Unwanted?" did he have to whisper so seductively? Peter felt his face warming. Peter tensed as (Y/N) pressed forward, their chests now touching. Peter scolded himself for wishing the suits they wore wasn't in the way. "Is that why you haven't tossed it away? Why haven’t you ripped it apart? Because you" his finger ghosted along Peter's sternum and towards his navel, "didn't like it?" Peter's lower lip trembled and (Y/N) fought back a smile as his hands wrapped around Peter's waist and he pulled him in. Closer. So close Peter swore the very air he was breathing was (Y/N)'s. "Never said I didn't like it" Peter whispered, his hands reaching between to cup (Y/N)'s face.
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t0rturedangel · 3 months
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can i have some yandere!Vox using his mind control powers on the reader??
╭ . . . 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ੭
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄-𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 ! 𝐕𝐎𝐗 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
♰ ৎ﹕𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦
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WOOO VOX STUFF, ngl vox is my favorite out of the three vees (idk much abt velvette and i fucking HATE valentino)
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✧⠀⨾ the only way he'd ever hypnotize you was if you dared to leave him- i mean who would leave him HIM?? the cool, chill guy Vox, the guy who anyone can trust with their stuff? How could you, in the name of lucifer himself, dare to leave just like that?
✧⠀⨾ you used some lame excuses too, "oh you're scaring me!" "This isnt healthy or alright in the slightest" like seriously? that's not even that serious! all he wants is for you to stay with him. BY HIM. that's all he's asking, is it too much?
✧⠀⨾ fuckin must be, since now you're sobbing and grabbing bunches of clothes- throwing them into a small, very pathetic suitcase so you'd have something when you ran away.
✧⠀⨾ you see, now, now you've went too far- now vox has to step in, which will not be good for anyone.
Through tears in your eyes you grabbed even more clothes, stuffing them all into your [ favorite coloured ] suitcase, occasionally blinking tears away or rubbing them off of your face. Vox went mad, he was always weird to you during the later period of your relationship- always too touchy and manic, too close to you. Yes, the two of you were dating, and everyone thought it was fine- you and vox were happy together. That was true, at least at the start of this twisted relationship, Vox genuinely seemed to care, to love you and would never dare to hurt you, he said so himself.
Yet, recently he's been acting so off- so wrong. Before he was kind, gentle, never forced you to do anything you didn't want to, but now? Lucifer, what happened to him? What happened to that man that you cared and loved so much, what infected his mind? You ,it seemed, were the answer- he changed because of you of how much he "loves" you. he hates seeing other sinners get too close to you- his precious angel- one who should be untouched by the filth of imps and lower sinners, he even went as far as to ban you from seeing the other vees (who you grew decently close to, earning their respect), he seemed to adore the fact that he controlled every aspect of your life and that you failed to notice it at first, too blinded by your love for him, for everything he did for you before the relationship became official- it was so foreign to see him like that now that you knew, that you've opened your eyes and saw the true intent of his actions, now you're scared, horrified.
Through your hysterics, as Vox labeled them when you first began to cry over all of this, you failed to notice that very same 'boyfriend' (you cringed at calling him that, that thing was not your boyfriend- was it ever your boyfriend?) standing in the door frame, his screen glitching with annoyance and screeching out quiet static noises that seemed for familiar yet so eerie, and his eye wider than the other- a beautiful black swirl dancing around on a red background, such an entrancing sight ❝ babe. ❞ you heard his voice, so distorted and full of displeasure making you shrieked out of almost pure instinct and turned your body so fast you almost has whiplash- eyes wide at the sight of Vox, a horror engraved into your [eye colour] irises . Your body began to tremble it felt almost natural to fear Vox, of what he'd do- he want others to imagine him as this stupid cool guy, who has not a care in the world but you knew what he was truly like. you knew what he was, what he said, what he felt about the other desperate sinners.
❝ go away vox- im not your 'babe' im leaving❞ it was barely above a whisper but sounded so loud in your head, so very loud. That one sentence could have leaft you deaf, you wish it did- wishing it left you deaf and blind so you didnt have to hear his voice, coated in an artificial love, dripping with his real poisonous intent, or see his face- that face you loved to see plastered around the pride ring, the face that now glared at you. ❝ Dont be like that [name]- you know you're my [girlfriend/boyfriend/lover] you cant leave me ❞ his voice, still laced with that distortion didn't register in your head, it's like you didn't even hear it- like you really went deaf.
you could hear his steps echo through the room and that confidences you held a meer second ago- drained from your stature immediately. A fear washed over you, overwhelming your body... Millions of questions raced through your tormented mind all desperate to be your sole focul. „ what will he do? ” „will he kill me? Torture me? Sell me off to some beggar?”
Those questions, such meaningless questions you thought, will never be answered. Though do not fear, Vox cherishes you too much to allow you to be in harm's way of anyone else- he just loves you so much, so much so that he'll forgive this silly little attitude of yours just this once: next time he won't be as forgiving. Though, in all his honesty there won't ever be a 'next time' and all he needed to prevent this was for you to look at his eyes, to just give him one glimpse, it's like deja vu for you ist it? What were you thinking? Those fears, those worries and silly little thoughts of leaving him should have never been thought in the first place, oh how could you be so horrible to think that your loving boyfriend Vox would EVER be so controlling and terrible? My dear, Vox only wants what's best for you, and whats best for you if to stay with him! That's all you need to do, he'll do all the hard work, he'll get his hands dirty, he'll protect you. No one else can do what he does, no other overlord, no other vee, no sinner, not even Lucifer himself can keep you safe like how he can.
after all, he just loves you too much to let you leave, and why would you? being with him had never been better. Though now Vox re-thinks letting you think for yourself again, after all last time he did you wanted to leave.
That cannot happen again. NEVER again.
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playing chapter three right now and I’d beat the SHIT out of Azul (read more in place because this is a long ass rant) spoilers ahead btw
ITS NOT EVEN BCS OF THE STUDY GUIDES bcs that’s just smart business tbh I respect that
The MC was just out of nowhere teleported to this insane ass magic world with no money or magical ability, has 100% been struggling, dealt with 2 overblots already and has the useless headmage hanging their financial situation above them to get them to do shit for him,,, Azul probably knows all of this mind you,,, they come to him bcs out of the kindness of their own heart with all the shit on their plate already they want to save their friends (and like 223 other students) AND HE PRETTY MUCH DOES EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO MAKE THEM HOMELESS???
like yea MC could stay at Heartslaybul (in a room with 4 other guys) or maybe at Savanaclaw (while basically being Leona’s servant) or there could be other cannon possibilities (like Kalim is really kind so he might have let MC transfer there if they lost Ramshackle) but none of those options were ever a guarantee plus he would have taken all of MCs belongings they couldn’t carry with them out of Ramshackle
and Azul was making it actively more IMPOSSIBLE to fulfill the terms of the contract. yea no sorry Jack Howl the Moral Compass Haver but both twins would have to pull me off of Azul I’d break his bones
EDIT BELOW: I finished chapter three
yea I still think Azul is a huge bitch and I realized I kin him
like I was bullied as a kid for being chubby too and I’ve never tried to make someone homeless to open a restaurant branch ffs
though I am proud of him for pulling a character development (however small and long overdue it was) I sure as hell would’ve asked for something in return
like oh u wanna erase your past so bad??? yea I’ll forget all about ur overblot for a free sushi buffet courtesy of Mostro Lounge
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ivanzplaid · 2 years
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nvm im having a lot of fun w the grabber and i need more of him so have this🫶 ( the grabber x male reader )
i've been thinking if ways to keep the black phone relevant in fics, so for this one youre able to hear it🙏
Warnings: Language, Choking ( belt ), Manipulation, Bruises ( mentioned ), Kidnapped, like a tiny bit of Stockholm Syndrome
SFW
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Stop Leaving.
The door to your room was open, as most nights, and the feelings of anticipation mixed with dread flooded your stomach. You knew tonight had to be the night, he had caught you talking to the kid with the bike lock code earlier that day, and he wasn't happy. You knew he had been strategically spending more time with you, coming in nights if you couldn't sleep to talk and comfort you, sitting next to you and rubbing your hair, other nights when you did sleep he'd lay next to you and just admire you, seeing you peaceful, safe, and calm while he was around helped him calm himself down.
But now that he was playing the game, you knew you had to if you wanted a chance of leaving. You had the code, 3 different versions of it popped in your head, but you just kept repeating it, calming yourself and making sure it wouldn't slip your mind. As you walked up the stairs to open the door, your heart was pounding, and you were honestly afraid it would cause him to wake up. From only being inches away, his chest going up and down slowly, the mask on, ready, and his shirt unbuttoned, displaying his chest and stomach, and highlighting the silent warning in his hands, the belt, the belt you've managed to avoid until now. Thankfully his breathing was steady and shallow, he was asleep.
You took one step at a time, knowing that the next could be the one to set Sampson off, or wake up him. The pressure really hit you once you finally reached the locked door. One code after the other, steady breathing, and brief checkins over the shoulder covered you, and the locked finally clicked open on the third try, of course your last. You slipped out of the door silently, or you thought you slipped out silently. The moment you took a step onto the pavement, you heard a gasp from behind you. Fear paralyzed you, your instincts to run immediately shut down, and left you only able to turn your head ever so slightly. The only light came from the street lights & kitchen, so your face was hidden.
"Who the FUCK are you!"
What?
You gave a confused look, and soon realized it wasn't The Grabber, no no, it was his brother he'd mention on occasion, but it wasn't until now you actually saw him of course. But you remembered quickly enough that, he doesn't know his own brother is a maniac serial killer, and this hit you all too swiftly.
"Al, get in here! There's some fucking- did you break in? Someone broke in!"
This idiot, this delusional idiot of a man ruined it, you could run but you knew someone would send the dog after you, or The Grabber would live up to his name again, and have you in his clutches with a worse outcome. So you stood there, lock in hand, face gone pale, just staring. How should you react?
"Max, what are you,"
You heard his voice. You could feel your face heat up, your palms getting clammy. It felt like the air suddenly dropped, and it was just him and you in the room, a vulnerable victim left out for dead by someone who thought he was doing good. His eyes immediately covered you, knowing you had lost, knowing he had multiple choices running through his head, deciding what your fate was.
"Don't worry about it Max, I can take care if this, just go back to bed, I will make sure he's taken care of."
It was over. You saw that 'Al' had taken his mask off, maybe to cover himself for his brother, but you saw that this only enraged him more as he glared at you with a newfound look in his eyes. The brothers talked briefly back and forth as you stood there, but in the end, the older brother set the initiative. And your fate was sealed, you were soon being guided back harshly, by a furious kidnapper, swearing under his breath about everything he wanted to do to you. You walked and it felt like time slowed. The room felt blurry snd heavy, you felt like it was all collapsing in at once and soon the pressure was enough to make you pass out.
When you awoke, you had a moment of quick joy, thinking it was another usual day of being trapped, the joy quickly left when you saw the multiple tiny bruises you had on you, and only did it really sink in that you had fucked up entirely when you saw the man walk in. The man who was clutching his fists tighter than ever, a shaking body and his deep breathing. You saw that he had the entire frowning mask on, and when he entered, he slowly paced towards you, extending his time examining you, intimidating you, and instilling fear.
"Would you look at that. You cowering in your little corner, not so powerful now hm?"
You shook your head violently, anything to let the pain he would inflict be lighter, you knew the bruises were only the beginning. He soon made it to your mattress, where you pushed yourself against the concrete and closed your eyes as hard as possible, you could feel tears swelling and you were afraid.
"Well? Anything you'd like to fucking mention?"
His voice grew raspy, and he stood on the mattress and bent down on his knees, getting closer and closer to you.
"Cry all you'd like, it's just me and you here now, nobody out there to help you, now lets begin."
He quickly grabbed your shirt collar and brought your face to his makeshift mask, inspecting you through it, before pushing your head to the mattress. His breathing getting heavy, he began to undo his belt while keeping you still with his body weight on you. You knew what was next, the kids constantly warned you about the belt. But what he did made you spiral into a panic. The belt soon found its way around your neck, looping like a collar, and you could hear him giggling under the mask, finding humor in your struggles to get it off, knowing this could be the end.
"Why'd you have to do that? I thought those nights were getting easier together, and now you expose yourself, forcing me to punish you since you want to test who's in charge here. Can you tell me who's in charge?"
You started sucking in air, the belt becoming slightly looser, waiting for an answer. And in the moment, you obeyed his command.
"You- you're in charge sir,"
The moment you said that, the belt pressure was released, allowing you to take as much air in as possible, quickly taking the belt off and just staring at the ceiling. Your heart rate was sky rocketing and you felt sick and lightheaded. But as your eyes shifted to him, you saw his satisfaction, his resolute feeling from almost killing you.
"Good, what a good boy, you're finally understanding, but I think a few more punishments will really prove that I'm the one who's holding the power."
You felt the weight on your chest come back, those words made you feel helpless, but seeing him over you, like this, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for trying to leave him, after all, he was being awfully caring earlier.
His plan was working.
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this one felt easier to write so im hoping its good, but i love this one alot :) Im abt to rewatch the movie a third time because i cannot get over it, but my requests r open and id love to write more for yall!! im also considering writing ( platonic ) fics for the other kids, so ofc theyre open as well if youd like to see them! i love the idea of friendships w the kids and seeing them live on💔 but as always, requests, reposts, etc r lit! tysm
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peacekeeper!coryo x reader where she's like the commanders daughter and she manipulates him to find out the real reason why hes in district 12 and not 8 where he should be. could include smut up to you! love your writing sm <333
In Control || Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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GIF by @youremyvioleta divider by @firefly-graphics
A/n: I really really love this one just bc I got to write reader in a manipulative light which was fun and interesting. I also had another request sorta but not really similar to this, ALSO I can’t remember for the life of me if there were any female peacekeepers especially in district 12 so let’s just imagine there weren’t any for the sake of the storyline :) 1/4? fics Im posting today
Warnings: smut! virgin reader, possessive, obsessive, manipulative, lowkey dark reader
Wc: 2,975 another long one!
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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You had to see for yourself Coriolanus Snow in peacekeeper uniform. When news travelled around that Coryo was to be sentenced to years as peacekeeper in the districts, you nearly laughed at the idea of him being here.
Your father, Commander Hoff, leader of the peacekeepers here in district 12, even found it amusing himself. So here you were, leaned against a beam as you peer down at the new peacekeepers in training. What the hell was Coriolanus doing here in district 12 when you knew damn well from your father that he was supposed to be in district 8.
Of course, your eyes looked around for the one and only, Coriolanus Snow. You went to school with him but you highly doubted he knew you since you were a couple years below him. You often moved from the Capitol with your mother to district 12, with your father, so most of the times you weren’t even at school.
“You will rise together and you will fall together,” Your father’s loud voice echoes in the room. “You will be our eyes and ears out here on my base, and it will be your duty, to report anything suspicious you see because if you do not,” Coryo gives you a curious look as a light smirk adorns your lips.
He was probably wondering what the hell you were doing up there on the platform with the commander, and who you were. “You are as good as a rebel, yourself.” Your father concludes as you straighten up and push yourself off the beam.
Your father watches you with a warning look as you ignore him; walking down the steps, your footsteps echoing as you knew the peacekeepers were fighting hard not to look away from the commander. You honestly preferred being in the districts with your father than in prison that people call the Capitol.
You slowly study each peacekeeper before you stand infront of Sejanus Plinth. “A plinth back in the districts?” You say with a hint of amusement as you study him. His hair shaved, his expression cold. “Y/n.” Your father warns.
Coriolanus was the first to break his gaze from your father as he looks at you. Y/n. “I think there’s somewhere you must be?” Commander Hoff spoke with such sternness it made you gulp. “Yes, Commander,” You lightly sigh, addressing him professionaly, before giving Sejanus and the man beside him, Coryo, one final glance. 
~
Coriolanus couldn't help thinking about you, for a few reasons. You intrigued him, not only because he thought there were no females at all in the base, but also because he found you attractive. Very attractive.He had a feeling he has seen you before, maybe around the academy, but he wasn't sure on it.
He wondered what the hell you were doing here at base. Maybe you were here as punishment as well, but that didn't explain why you were up on the platform beside Commander Hoff.
~
"Let's go!" Coriolanus shifts his attention outside as he hears a whistle being blown. Sejanus and Coryo walk side by side onto the open field where Commander Hoff and you stood at the front.
The two of you make eye contact before he quickly looks away and stands in the front row, beside Sejanus. "Today you will be participating in physical exercises..." Commander Hoffs words became muffled to Coriolanus as he only pays attention to you.
You were stood beside your father, a clipboard in one hand as you tap the tip of your pen against your bottom lip. That made it clear that you were probably not here as punishment. Your uniform was the same except slightly altered. "Go!" A whistle blows as Coriolanus stands there confused because he wasn't paying attention.
"Do you think your special, boy? Get on the ground and do pushups, now!" Commander Hoff barks as he looks around before quickly following along side the others. You watch in amusement, your father shakes his head at you as you try and stifle a giggle.
You write down notes on your clipboard as you listen to your father instruct the peacekeepers. You were training to be the first female commander in history. Focused on Coriolanus practically the entire time, you sauntered past your father to where he was, on the ground doing pushups.
It was a particulars hot day so they all were wearing white singlets with their blue pants. You were secretly salivating the entire time you watched Snow perform the exercises, his muscles bulging, his skin slightly covered in a layer of sweat.
He looked fucking hot. The few times you saw him around the academy, he looked handsome, ethereal, with his blonde locks, but now with his buzzcut, he looked like a complete different person, he was a walking sex appeal. You lightly bite your fingernails as you watch the way his dog tag would dangle from his neck when he was doing pushups.
Your father raises an eyebrow as he watches you sit on Coriolanus' back whilst he was doing a pushup. Coriolanus grunts at the sudden weight on his back. You smile in satisfaction as you hear him grunting. Music to your ears.
You sitting on his back only made Coriolanus push harder as you let out a small yelp, placing a hand on his shoulder to stabilise yourself. Your jaw dropped at his speed, it was as if you weighed nothing. His stamina was insane as he kept the same rapid pace.
"What do you think you are dong Miss Y/n?" Your father raises an eyebrow at you, "Extra punishment, Commander Hoff," You beam at your father, patting Coriolanus' firm back as he Snow lets out a groan. Hoff hums before walking away, his hands behind his back.
When you hear the final whistle blow, you get off his back. Coriolanus stayed laying on the grass, his chest going up and down rapidly as sweat ran down the side of his face. You pulled out a handkerchief from your pocket with your initials embroidered in fancy writing and hold it infront of him.
He quirks an eyebrow at you, your roll your eyes before taking his hand and placing the lacey handkerchief in his hand. "Thanks," He says in a hoarse voice. You don't break eye contact with him as he wipes his face free from sweat.
Coryo hands your handkerchief back to you but you shake your head, "Keep it," Is all you say before turning around and leaving him there dumfounded. The thought of why he was here in district 12, and not 8–where he was supposed to be–still lingered in the back of your head.
~
For the next couple of days there was an unspoken tension between the two of you. Sexual tension to be specific. You were still itching to know what his business here in district 12 was. You were attracted to him for sure, how could you not when he looked like that. But your curiosity overpowered your desire for him.
You were walking along a quiet corridor before you felt a hand reach out and grab you, pulling you into a room. You let out a muffled scream, a hand firmly on your mouth as you felt someone's breathe fanning your neck.
Your eyes were wide in shock before the person spins you around and he reveals himself. He was dressed in his full attire, hat and everything included. You let out a sigh of relief, all while he watches you. "What the fuck are you thinking?" You whisper yell at him, as you quickly lock the door behind you.
"I wanted to introduce myself-" You scoffed loudly, turning your head to the side. "You think I don’t know you, Coriolanus Snow?" You raise an eyebrow at him as his tongue wets his bottom lip. Truth be told, Snow actually never mentioned his name to you. He just assumed you didn't know who he was. "I just wanted to properly introduce myself to you, Y/n.” 
"Well, that is not a very good reason to pull someone into a room without warning," You shrug your shoulders at him as he stays quiet, studying you as you study him back. Tilting your head slightly, you open your mouth, "You have another motive, Coriolanus,"
He swallows, "I want to see you again-" "why-" "privately." Oh? All the times you and Coriolanus would see each other was always out in the open with prying eyes everywhere, particularly from your father. You'd be lying if you said you weren't purposely whoring yourself for him just to get information out of him. From your lack of response, Coryo speaks again.
"What are you doing here on base? You don't seem to be here for punishment-" You let out a low chuckle, stepping a few steps forward towards him. "I could ask the same for you, Have you really no clue?" Coriolanus purses his lips, looking away before meeting looking over your face.
"Your initials on your handkerchief..." He starts, ignoring part of your question as you lips start to quirk up, "Are you Commander Hoff's daughter?" "Maybe I am. Does that bother you?" You step even closer to him as you notice his breathe starting to hitch.
"No," He breathes out.. "But what would your father think if he found out that you and I are here alone, when we shouldn't be," A smirk forms on his lips as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.
"Truthfully, I couldn't care less," You whisper before pressing your lips against his. Coriolanus froze when your lips touched his, you honestly thought he might just shove you away. You were pleasantly surprised when you felt his hand coming up to grip the base of your neck, deepening the kiss. It was as if he was a starved man, feasting on his food. Like you were oxygen that he desperately needed. 
He wrapped his arms around you and kissed with such savageness. The heat was like wildfire. The tension, the waiting. Days of expecting him to make a move on you. After the wandering eyes and the way he would make up any excuse to touch you or say something to you.
You slid your fingers across his broad, firm shoulders. One of his large hands gripped your loose locks, tugging at it, while his other hand reached down and tugged at your shirt. You pull back for a second as you take off your shirt, your bra covered chest on display as he wastes no time in unclipping it.
Coriolanus palmed your breasts hard enough to make you hiss against his mouth. You kissed him deeply, your fingers slid behind his neck and along the tendons of his neck. Coryo reaches up to take his hat off before you stop him, "Keep it on," You breathlessly say as Snow smirks before continuing his assault on your lips.
You tore your clothes off in front of him as he gapes. A surge of confidence ran through you as you grab his hand and push him against you. His rough hands dragging up your body, feeling every curve and dip he found to be perfect.
Snow kissed across your breasts and once again tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling at it until you whimpered and tilted your head back. His mouth was at the base of your neck and he kissed and nipped along your collarbone until he reached a point where you moaned gutturally and arched against his still fully clothed body.
Coriolanus pushed you back, your ass bumping into the only piece of furniture that was in the room which happened to be a desk. He pushed your legs apart and sank into you with a single, hard thrust. The he paused and pressed a kiss against your lips before he started to move.
You bit back a cry of pain and forced yourself not to stiffen or pull away. Your whole façade crumbling as he thrusts into you. It hurt. You knew it might, if not done slowly at least. But the pain still caught you off guard. The abruptness of it. He most likely assumed there had been others before him by the way you sauntered around the base and interacted with the other young peacekeepers.
You were glad it hurt. You were whoring yourself for him. You had seduced him the moment he made it abundantly clear that he wasn't keen on sharing his story of why he was here. You had manipulated him because you wanted something from him. You were greedy.
You weren't just going to settle on the undivided attention he'd give you. No. You wanted him, body and soul. Coriolanus was so much bigger that his frame practically enveloped you. His hands were tangled in your hair so tightly you could barely twitch your head as he met your eyes and moved inside of you at an almost inhumane speed.
His jaw was tense. His expression partially shielded from his hat. But the grip he had on you, and the speed he was going at, you could tell you were his. And similarly, he was yours. You forced yourself not to show any signs of discomfort as your threw your head back, eyes screw shut, when his fingers started playing with your stiff, perked nipples.
You moved your hips to meet his movement and clenched around him, your fingernails dragging across his clothed back. You lock your feet below his hips to drive him further in driving him crazy as a string of curses fall from his lips.
Coriolanus hisses, dropping his head against your shoulder as he thrusts deep inside of you. The angle of his movement, the intensity between them wasn't just his–you whimpered and gasped near his ear. 
His pace faltered slightly, and he lifted his head. His hands moved away from your tits, caught hold of your hands and intertwined your fingers together. He kissed you. Deep, passionate kisses that made your chest hurt as you returned them.
He shifted his pace. Slower. The angle was different, the way your naked pelvis met his as he pushed into you, and you realised with alarm that it was tearing your sense of control away from you. And you desperately wanted that control back or otherwise you’d be vulnerable. 
Coriolanus was kissing you. Hot. Bruising. Almost punishing kisses, as he gripped your hands and kept driving into you relentlessly. The pain had dulled to a fainter throb. Several more hard, deep strokes, then Coryo's hips jerked, and he gave a deep moan and dropped his head down in the crook of your neck.
His breath dragged across your skin as he panted near your ear and kissed your shoulder. You were still against him. You were suddenly aware of the rough table biting into your skin. And that the room was hot. Coriolanus stayed pressed against you and still inside of you for several seconds and then he abruptly tensed and pulled away.
He expression was drawn, and he didn't even look at you as he zipped up his pants. You slowly sat up, watching him carefully. He was progressively getting paler and paler as his hands lock behind his neck. His expression was both disbelieving and horrified.
"Fuck-" He said under his breath, he seemed devastated. And part of him was. He just fucked you. The daughter of his commander. He may have just screwed up his opportunity to see the one person he had risked everything for. If Commander Hoff found out that Coriolanus fucked his daughter, he could be transferred to another district, away from her. Or even worst, he was going to be executed.
His desire for you got the better of him and his initial plan. But he just couldn't resist you. Coriolanus clapped his hand over his mouth and looked over, meeting your eyes. Whatever he was battling inside his head seemed to be giving him a panic attack.
He swallowed visibly, closed his eyes and adjusted his hat. Then he opened his eyes, he seemed to have composed himself. He drew a deep breath and turned to you. His expression tense.
As he looked at you, his eyes dropped to your legs and he blanched white. You couldn't believe someone could even possibly blanch that white. "You were a virgin?" His voice was rasping. Coriolanus felt his hole that was dug out for him was getting deeper and deeper.
"Yeah," You say seeming unbothered. Snow looked like he was about to be sick. His jaw was clenched as he kept staring at you. "I–would have been gentler–if I had known," He finally said.
You slowly got off the desk, the middle of your legs aching as you put your clothes back on as Coryo watches. "I didn't really want you to be," He pressed his lips together.
"Fuck I'm not going to be able to see her," He muttered as his hands once again lock around his neck as your heart dropped upon hearing what he said. You smile bitterly to yourself. You got what you wanted. You found out what he was doing here. You'd grieve over the cost later.
Maybe he couldn't change course now. It was set. Obsessive. Possessive. You had him; possibly forever, if you didn't decide to use your cunningness. You had him. For whatever reason, you had him. Now you had to find a way to take advantage of it.
A slip of words to your father and he could be transferred to another district, away from her, or even hanged for taking your -virginity. You knew you had him wrapped around your finger now. And by the way Coriolanus stared at you and swallowed hard, horror in his eyes, he knew it too.
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sunsburns · 2 months
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kiss of life (ii.)
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pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader
part one
summary: i actually suck at writing summaries but basically this is part two of part one of that soulmate au fic i posted a week ago lol
—or: luke castellan is being haunted by kronos and... well, you.
word count: 6.42k
warnings: sorry for any spelling errors, i haven’t checked yet, suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov as he's slowly being corrupted by kronos, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is stubborn and a dick, loser!luke, annabeth smacking some sense to luke, grover being an icon, reader is lowkey unreliable tbh... cliff hanger (again... lmfao sorry)
a/n: part two!!! thank you guys for all the love on the first part! i am so grateful for everything and i love reading all the comments and reblogs. i hope this one doesn't end up flopping lmfaooo. i honestly wanted this to be a short angsty fic but i got carried away and now i'm planning a whole multi-part fic for this, phew. anyways enjoyyy <;33
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At eighteen, Luke was cursed with nightmares. 
They clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel the fragile front of peace that he had fought so hard to maintain. Each night, he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, the echoes of his tortured dreams lingering in the corners of his mind like a haunting melody.
The Hermes cabin, once a sanctuary from the outside world, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him with each passing moment. The moon, a silent witness to his torment, cast its ethereal glow through the window, illuminating the slumbering forms of campers. Some were children of Hermes, like himself, bound by the tenuous ties of blood and kinship. Others, however, were unclaimed, their parentage shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.
And as Luke lay awake in the stillness of the night, a sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of doubt. In the depths of his troubled sleep, he could feel the tendrils of darkness closing in around him, threatening to consume him whole. And try as he might to deny it, he knew that his nightmares held a deeper significance, a harbinger of events yet to unfold in the shadowy pits of fate.
His nightmares were callings. A taunting voice would echo through the corridors of his mind, its insidious whispers weaving a thought of deceit and manipulation. It masqueraded as a voice of reason, a beacon beckoning him towards a destiny that promised demigods everything.
At first, Luke dismissed it as nothing more than the ramblings of a tortured soul, the byproduct of his own restlessness. But as the whispers grew louder and more insistent, he could no longer ignore the chilling realization that they were something far more sinister—a call to arms, a summons to embrace his role as a harbinger of the new world.
The nights he wasn't shaking from night terrors, he was tossing and turning at the thought of you. And he didn’t know what was worse. He couldn't escape you. The haunting image of you lingered in his mind even during sleep — your lips, your eyes, your skin, your voice, and that shared scar and your demise.
But at least, you'd given up on him by then. Your persistent efforts to reach out to Luke gradually dwindled into nothingness. Though you were still everywhere, a shadow that seemed to torment his every move, you no longer gave him even a fraction of your attention.
Gone were the days of you seeking him out, your footsteps no longer echoing in the halls of Camp Half-Blood in search of him. You refrained from asking for Chris's help, no longer burdening him with questions on Luke's whereabouts. The notes you once left behind were now relics of a time long past, their words fading with each passing day.
And as the full moon rose once more over the waters of the lake, you no longer waited by its shores.
Luke turned in bed, his mind restless as he tried to shake the image of you. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, seeking comfort in the warmth they provided, but the chill of unease still lingered in the air.
His gaze drifted across the row of beds, each a testament to the diverse personalities that inhabited the Hermes cabin. The floor was strewn with a chaotic array of sleeping bags, toys, and discarded clothing, while a collection of rocks adorned one corner near the closets, and drawings adorned the walls.
Despite the usual chaos that reigned during the day, the cabin now lay quiet and still. The children of Hermes, along with the unclaimed children and the ones of minor gods, had finally settled into the embrace of sleep. 
But amidst the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at Luke's consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that had settled over him after he noticed the empty bed and the slightly ajar door. 
Luke pushed back the covers and rose from his bed. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the empty bottom bunk, hoping not to wake anyone. The sight of an old penguin stuffed animal discarded at the foot of the bed made him edgy. His eyes trailed to the traces of blood splattered on the hardwood floor, stark against the dim light filtering through the cabin windows.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Luke picked up the toy, its soft white and black material now stained with crimson. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he made his way out of the cabin, the urgency of his steps echoing in the stillness of the night.
He knew all too well who the missing camper was – five-year-old Penelope, one of the newest arrivals to Camp Half-Blood and possibly one of the youngest campers. Found wandering alone in the woods near the camp hill just a week ago, she had been brought to safety by a group of fellow demigods on a quest. Luke couldn't shake the resemblance she bore to a younger Annabeth, with her wide eyes and insatiable thirst for knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised if Athena claimed her as her own one day–that is if he ever found her.
Luke's worry for Penelope weighed heavily on his mind, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as he combed through every inch of camp. The traces of blood he discovered fueled his unease, each droplet a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of the camp's borders.
In his search, Luke traversed familiar paths and hidden corners, his footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. He scoured the armour, the climbing wall, and the camp store.
Luke had known all about campers disappearing, whether it be on a quest or to escape and try to live a normal life with humans that never really lasted long enough as monsters would dwell within the shadows outside of camp. 
It was in the dim glow of the kitchen lights that Luke finally caught a glimpse of Penelope, perched on the counter in her pyjamas, her hair adorned with two loose pigtails. A sense of relief washed over him at the sight of her safe and sound, yet it was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.
His hand hovered over the door, hesitating as he listened to the soft murmur of conversation from within. With a steady breath, Luke pushed the door open ever so slightly, peering through the crack to catch a glimpse of Penelope. And you.
You, who looked older than when you first met in the infirmary. There was an air of maturity about you, a gracefulness that hadn't been there before. Your features seemed more refined, your presence commanding attention in a way that spoke of inner strength and resilience. Luke couldn't help but notice how your beauty had blossomed, surpassing the standards of mere mortal allure. It was a beauty that seemed to defy classification, uniquely yours yet undeniably captivating.
Despite this, Luke sensed a shift in your demeanour—a resignation, perhaps, to the reality of his ignorance. You had lost any hope you once harboured for him. His guarded nature would forever keep you at arm's length. And while part of him knew that this was for the best, a small, almost imperceptible part of him couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.
For in the crossroads of his heart, amidst the shadows that threatened to consume him, there lingered a faint glimmer of longing. The thought of being intertwined with someone who could offer solace in his darkest moments, who could bring light to the depths of his despair, held an undeniable appeal. And as much as he tried to deny it, the chance of you approaching him once more tugged at the fringes of his resolve, tempting him to let down his guard and allow you closer than he ever dared to imagine.
"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing up this late?" You approached Penelope with a gentle smile, a cookie in your hand as a peace offering. 
Your words hung in the air, gentle and coaxing, as you tried to draw Penelope out of her shell. Luke watched from the shadows, his gaze flickering between you and the young camper, a sense of admiration stirring at how you spoke to Penelope.
Penelope hesitated, her gaze shifting between the cookie in her hand and you. 
"You don't know?" You persisted, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of playfulness. You settled beside Penelope on the counter, your posture was relaxed as you leaned in closer to her. "Is it... a secret?" you whispered.
Luke noted the subtle change in your demeanour, the way you seemed to adapt effortlessly to Penelope's shy nature. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, one that resonated deeply with him.
As Penelope nodded in response to your question, you continued, your tone gentle and reassuring. "Let me tell you a secret," you offered, holding up your pinky finger as a symbol of trust. "I am the best secret keeper in this camp. I pinky promise."
After a moment's hesitation, Penelope tentatively reached out, her tiny finger linking with yours in a hesitant pinky promise. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
Penelope murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got hurt."
"What?" You gasped in genuine concern, your eyes widening as you shifted your attention to the young camper. "Can I see?"
Penelope nodded silently, her arm outstretched towards you. Luke observed from his vantage point, his heart twisting with worry as he noted the faint hint of red near Penelope's elbow.
You took Penelope's arm into your hands gently, your touch tender and reassuring as you rolled up the sleeves of her pale pink pyjamas. Luke couldn't help but notice the familiarity of those pyjamas, a subtle reminder of Annabeth's kindness and resourcefulness in making Penelope feel at home.
"Oh, wow, that looks like it hurts," You remarked softly, your brows furrowing in sympathy as you retrieved a first aid kit from the nearby cabinets. "You're handling it very well," you praised Penelope, your tone gentle and encouraging. "So brave of you."
Penelope watched you attentively as you began to clean her wound, her small frame tense with discomfort. "I don't feel brave," she admitted quietly.
"No?" You glanced up at her, "why not?"
"I miss my mommy."
Her words were tinged with a sense of longing that struck a chord with both you and Luke.
Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts drifting to his own longing for his mother. Penelope's admission resonated with him deeply, reminding him of the ache that never truly faded, no matter how many years passed, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. 
It was a sentiment shared by every demigod at camp, a silent ache that echoed through the cabins and training grounds. Yet, it was a pain rarely spoken aloud as if verbalizing it would make it all too real, too unbearable.
The yearning for a parent, for someone to fill the void left by their absence, weighed heavily on each camper's shoulders. It was a burden they carried silently, masking their vulnerability with bravado and determination. But for Penelope, the longing was raw in its innocence.
At just five years old, she was too young to fully comprehend the extent of her emotions. She couldn't grasp the complexities of her situation, the world of gods and monsters that surrounded her. All she knew was the absence of a mother's embrace, the absence of a comforting presence to soothe her fears and wipe away her tears.
It was a pain she didn't deserve, a burden too heavy for such a young soul to bear. The gods, in their arrogance and indifference, seemed oblivious to the lives they had shattered, and the pain they had inflicted upon their own children.
"Yeah?" You responded gently, "How much do you miss her?"
"This much," Penelope replied, her small hands spreading wide.
"Wow! That's a lot," you remarked, a sombre note underlying your tone as you processed Penelope's words. After a beat of silence, you shook off the heaviness of the moment and mustered a smile for her. "There we go. All cleaned up," you announced cheerfully, pressing a bandaid onto her elbow.
Penelope's smile widened in response, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she kicked her feet. In a quiet voice barely above a whisper, she murmured her thanks to you.
"So, you wanna tell me how you got hurt?"
"I don't know." This had been the most Luke had ever seen Penelope talk, and while her voice was still timid, the words slipping out hesitantly, she seemed to confide in you. "I woke up because my arm hurt."
"The cut was just there?" You asked, and when she nodded, you hummed sympathetically. "...I get those too, you know."
Penelope's eyes widened, "You do?"
"Yes," you affirmed with a soft chuckle. "A lot of people do. You get them from your soulmate. Did your mom ever tell you about soulmates?"
"Sometimes."
"Well, a long time ago, humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces," You explained.
"What?"
"I know, right? Super freaky. So freaky that Zeus decided to split them in half. So, now we have two arms, two legs, and one face."
"What happened to the other half?"
"That's our soulmate. Our other half. And Aphrodite gave us a gift to help us find our soulmate." The smile that had adorned your face slowly waned, "Every time you get hurt, your soulmate gets hurt too."
"Is that why you have a cut on your face?"
The question lingered, hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Luke held his breath, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response. But instead of answering, you reached out to Penelope, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you guided her off the counter.
"Let's get you back to your cabin."
Your words were gentle, a soft reassurance for Penelope's sake, but Luke could sense the undercurrent of sadness that ran beneath them. As you led Penelope away, Luke's heart ached in a way that felt so familiar yet foreign at the same time. It burned the same way it did when he returned from the quest when he hated the world and everyone in it, but this time, the only person he could find himself hating was himself.
He retreated from the door, clutching the stuffed animal in his hands. He felt a fleeting reminder of the times he would hide from the monsters with Thalia.
Luke's mind swirled with discordant emotions, each thought a whirlwind of uncertainty. He knew he didn't deserve your answer, didn't deserve the solace of your words. He had made it clear too many times to count that he never wanted a soulmate, never wanted you.
But despite his protests, despite the walls he had built around his heart, Luke couldn't deny the tug that pulled him to you, the hunger in his soul that refused to be ignored. It was a longing he couldn't shake, a yearning that whispered of a connection he dared not embrace. Knowing that keeping you away was the only way to protect you from the darkness that lurked within him was what kept him sane.
"Luke?"
The sound of his name tore Luke out of his thoughts like a violent gust of wind. He spun around, finding you standing on the porch to the kitchens, Penelope at your side. She held your hand, a small beacon of warmth and light in the dimness of the night. 
It seemed too perfect, too surreal, and Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of disbelief. Were you trying to kill him? It had been too long since the last time he spoke to you, let alone stood so close to you, and here you were, the epitome of what a demigod should be, even if you were still in the dreaded bright orange camp shirt.
"Hey," he managed to say.
You continued to descend the stairs, each step cautious and deliberate. "What- uh, what are you doing up?"
"I was actually looking for Penelope." Luke motioned to the girl hiding behind your legs. When he caught her eye, Penelope grinned and let go of your hand, darting over to Luke and jumping into his arms. He lifted her easily, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed her the stuffed toy she had left behind. 
"Oh." You hummed, "I didn't know you're a Hermes kid?"
"I'm unclaimed," Penelope chimed.
"For now," Luke's voice was gentle as he held Penelope in his arms. "And what were you doing up?"
"I was looking for a bandaid. I got lost." Penelope's words were punctuated by a soft yawn, and she nestled her head against Luke's shoulder, her exhaustion evident in every movement.
You hesitated, your gaze shifting to meet Luke's. "I found her by the canoes... near the dock."
The silence that settled between you felt heavy, suffocating almost as if it threatened to engulf you both. Luke found himself wandering back to the memories of you waiting for him at the dock during the summer nights and the regret that weighed heavily on his heart for never approaching you. He remembered the countless times he stood among the trees, watching you from afar, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.
Were you waiting for him there tonight? 
No, you couldn't have.
Guilt gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Listen, I-"
"I'm gonna go." You cut him off abruptly, your voice carrying a hint of tension. "Counsellor duties and all. I've got cabin checks in the morning so... you know, I gotta print papers... and stuff..."
Luke frowned at your lame excuse. "It's midnight."
"It's never too early to start now." You huffed defensively. "Bye, Penelope."
"Bye," Penelope mumbled sleepily, her hand lazily waving in your direction as you walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the trail leading to the Aphrodite cabin.
As they made their way back to the Hermes cabin, Luke held onto Penelope tightly, feeling the weight of her small body in his arms. The night air was cool against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of shame for the unease he noticed in you earlier. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you, but the words remained trapped in his throat.
Once they returned to the warmth of their cabin, Luke moved with a careful grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping campers around them. He gently placed Penelope back on her bed and tucked her in. But as he began to step away, her small hand shot out, wrapping around two of his fingers. Luke froze, eyes wide with surprise.
"Luke?" Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the cabin like a knife.
"Yeah?" Luke's voice was equally quiet.
"I think your soulmate is really cool." 
Penelope's words hung in the air, a simple statement that carried more weight than he could have ever anticipated.
Seven hours later, the memory of your face lingered in Luke's mind like an unshakeable ghost. Tossing back and forth in his bed, he tried to rid himself of the image, but it clung to him like a shadow. Each time he closed his eyes, your face flashed before him, haunting his thoughts. Even when he turned away, the spectre of Kronos lurked in the depths of his subconscious, a reminder of the choice that still loomed over him.
As morning broke over Camp Half-Blood, Luke found himself seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of his fellow campers. Annabeth's presence brought a brief distraction.
She slid into the seat in front of him during breakfast and gave him a strange look, slightly out of breath from the morning rush, a half-eaten apple in hand.
"Hey," she greeted him, her voice carrying a note of concern. Pausing to tie back her braids, she studied him intently. "Who you looking for?"
Luke's response came too quickly, "No one," he replied, his voice strained. Thankfully, Chris had left earlier because he was in charge of the climbing wall in the morning, he wasn't there to tell Annabeth that Luke had been looking for you. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the dining hall, a futile attempt to catch sight of you amidst the crowd. He felt pathetic. "What's up with you?"
Annabeth raised her brows. "Archery? Together? Remember? Or did you forget?"
"No. I didn't forget."
She only stared at him, skeptical.
"What?" he asked, "why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Oh, I get it," Annabeth's smirk hinted at a newfound understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dining hall, as she shook her head and rested her chin on her hand. "How long are you planning to keep this up for?"
Luke frowned, confused.
"This entire act you have with... you know," She didn't need to say your name for him to catch on. "It's getting out of hand, no?"
"I..." Caught off guard by her directness, Luke hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Choosing to play dumb, he feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right." Annabeth's knowing look pierced through his facade. She was always too perceptive for her own good. Fixing him with a narrowed gaze, she gave him a playful kick under the table, the impact enough to draw a startled reaction from Luke. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she took another bite of her apple before teasing him further. "Well, Grover said you're killing yourself."
"What?" He blinked at her, taken aback, "I'm not killing myself. Grover's just being dramatic."
"I don't think so." She said, slowly, carefully forming her words. "I mean, if I had a soulmate..."
Luke's defences bristled at the mention of soulmates, a topic he preferred to avoid. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?" 
"I'm allowed to worry, "Annabeth reminded him, her words tinged with a gentle insistence. "Family, remember?"
The word 'family' carried weight, a reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged over the years. It was a phrase Annabeth often employed to coax Luke out of his shell, to encourage him to confide in her. When they were younger, 'family' meant everything to Luke, thanks in no small part to Annabeth's influence.
"You don't need to worry," Luke assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve. "I know what I'm doing." But did he? Luke longed for the simplicity of a time before he met you when the idea of having a soulmate seemed like a distant fantasy. Now, every decision he made, every scar he bore, carried weight, knowing it could impact you in ways he couldn't comprehend.
"The least you can do is get to know her before she leaves."
Her words struck a chord within him, prompting Luke to cast a discreet glance around the dining hall, searching for you amidst the bustling crowd again.
"She's leaving?"
"Not forever, "Annabeth clarified with a chuckle, "Just on a quest. Search and rescue. Nothing fancy."
"...How do you know this?" he said after a moment.
"Chiron told me," Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "He also told me to tell you that the ceremony is tonight. I hope that doesn't kill you."
It did kill him a bit. At least, it felt like it did. Luke Castellan moved through camp with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding weapons, throbbed with a dull ache with the burn from the bow and arrow. 
Shoulders tense, skin prickling under the relentless glare of the sun, he scanned the bustling campgrounds.
The weight of his bow rested heavily on his shoulder, the familiar weight offering a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos. With practiced precision, he counted the arrows in his quiver, his movements fluid and sure. 
Then, he heard it—the sound that drew him like a siren's call. Your voice, lilting and laughter-filled, cut through the clamour of the camp, pulling him toward you like a magnet. There you stood, leaning against the doorway of the Hephaestus cabin, a clipboard clutched to your chest as you exchanged banter with Atticus, the skilled swordsmith whose craftsmanship had forged Luke's sword.
There was something different about you today, something delicate, more approachable than he had ever seen before. Last night, with Penelope, you had worn a similar expression—gentle, caring—but it was a side of you that Luke had never been privileged to witness. With him, you had always been guarded, reserved, as though afraid that he would cut or maim you.
As you scribbled something onto your clipboard, Luke found himself intrigued by the way your smile softened. It was a stark contrast to the confident facade you often wore, and for a moment, Luke felt a pang of guilt for pushing you away so soon.
Unbeknownst to you, you were drawing closer to Luke with each step, your path inexorably leading you toward him. Part of him craved to reach out, while another part hesitated, unsure of how to talk to you after all this time.
"Hey," Luke finally managed to utter as you drew near, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You paused, a hint of surprise flickering across your features as you registered his presence. "Hi?" Your response was tentative, laced with a hint of confusion. After a moment's hesitation, you glanced down at your clipboard, "I'm not changing my rank on your cabin. I know three is low, but I was being generous."
A ghost of a smile tugged at Luke's lips. He was all too familiar with the chaotic nature of Cabin Eleven, where overcrowding was the norm and taking turns on the sleeping bags was treated as a game. "No, no. I just..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought through the purpose of seeking you out. "I think we need to talk."
The confusion in your expression mirrored his own, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging between you. "Talk?" you echoed.
Luke nodded, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "Yes."
"You want to talk...? To me?" 
"I hope it's not that bizzare."
He tried to smile for you, but it felt wrong. Luke couldn't shake the weight of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew all too well that he hadn't been the embodiment of an ideal soulmate. In his mind, there lingered a pervasive belief that you harboured nothing but hatred towards him, something that you made obvious with every interaction between you two.
He wondered if this was the way you felt during the days he avoided you. 
Luke had noticed the shift. There was a calculated recklessness to your actions, a deliberate disregard for your own well-being that bordered on self-destructive. You stubbed your toe on roots and table legs, tugged too hard at your hair, and scraped your knees. You started to pull your punches while sparring with Clarisse, just enough to ensure that he felt the sting of every blow. You never blocked a hit in the face, a twisted satisfaction in the knowledge that your pain mirrored his own. Together, you would limp into the infirmary, bloodied and bruised where you'd be grinning far too wide, barely offering an ounce of guilt when Luke held ice to his face.
You lowered the clipboard from your chest, letting it rest against your side as you faced Luke. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the dense foliage above, casting dappled shadows that danced across your features and forced you to squint against the brightness. The noise of children's laughter and the sound of feet pounding against the earth filled the air.
Your voice cut through the noise, "You've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me, Luke," you began, your words carrying the weight of unspoken hurt. "You can't blame me for being surprised."
As you began to walk toward the next cabin, Luke fell into step beside you, "Can you just give me a chance—" 
"I think you're too late for that."
"I know, I just—" Luke's words faltered, his thoughts tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to articulate his feelings.
"I have nothing to say to you," you declared abruptly, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Luke skidded to a stop just in time, his gaze meeting yours as you regarded him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Seriously. I understand, okay? Did I come on too strong? Maybe. Yeah, I'll admit that" you acknowledged, your expression softening slightly. "Maybe coming to you hours after your shit quest was stupid, but I gave you space when you asked—"
"I just wanted to wish you luck on your quest," Luke interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of remorse.
With a quiet "Oh," you stepped back, your eyes momentarily averting his gaze. Were you embarrassed? Were you disappointed? Did you want to fight? 
"Sorry," you mumbled, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm seeing the Oracle after this. So... not technically a quest yet."
"It's your first one, right?" Luke's voice softened, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
"If you're worried about getting another scar, don't worry, I doubt it's anything dangerous," you reassured him, though your words held a hint of hesitation. There was a fleeting moment where your gaze lingered on him as if expecting a sudden change in his demeanour, but Luke remained still, his expression unreadable. "I just need to find Eros and go from there."
"Eros?" Luke's pace slowed, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he raised his brows in interest. Yet beneath the surface, a seed of annoyance sprouted, tendrils of jealousy winding their way through his thoughts. Your quest sounded far more intriguing than his own, and a bitter brew of envy churned in the depths of his stomach. Despite his inner turmoil, he attempted to play it off with a forced chuckle. "Has Cupid gone missing?"
"Apparently," you muttered bitterly under your breath, the resentment palpable in your tone. Luke sensed the edge to your words, though he pretended not to notice.
You sighed, "Is this conversation going anywhere? I really need to finish these cabin checks. I'm busy enough as it is."
Your words held an unspoken plea for him to leave, and though Luke understood, a pang of disappointment nagged at him. He couldn't entirely blame you; after all, he'd been an ass for months.
Both of you hesitated just outside the door to cabin eight, and Luke could feel your eyes on him. When you began to step away, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You froze, eyes wide with surprise.
“I also wanted to thank you,” He said, words rushing off his tongue.
“For what?” you asked.
“For last night.” He wasn't sure why he brought it up, why he felt like he needed you to know. "With Penelope."
"It was nothing," you said, voice barely audible. "We gotta look out for each other, right?"
Then, you left, you hurried up the short staircase to the cabin door, barely sparing him a glance before knocking. From his place, Luke could hear someone welcoming you into Artemis's cabin. He watched you until the door was shut behind you, vanishing you from his sight.
As the ceremony approached, the hues of twilight painted Camp Half-Blood in a golden glow, a serene yet foreboding atmosphere enveloping the surroundings. Luke's unease mounted with the setting sun, casting stretched-out shadows that seemed to carry something unnoticed. He couldn't shake the image of the figure from his nightmares, its monstrous visage haunting his thoughts with each passing moment. Yet, amidst the creeping darkness, there was an allure to the unknown, a temptation that beckoned him; its words, its promise of seeing the truth.
His gaze remained fixed on the white marble archway, half-expecting the nightmare to materialize at any moment, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with outstretched fingers. However, it was you who appeared, ascending the steps with graceful determination. Your presence seemed to dispel the shadows, bathing the surroundings in a radiant glow that eclipsed the fears that had once gripped Luke's heart. You were a blinding vice.
"Didn't think I'd see you here."
A sudden jab to his side sent him recoiling, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs. Luke winced, his gaze flickering to you as you flinched, subtly reaching for your own side. Quickly diverting his attention, he focused on the girl who had spoken.
Clarisse arched a brow at Luke, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Jumpy."
"Give him a break," Chris interjected, joining Luke's side and draping an arm over his shoulder. "Luke had a rough night, he lost a kid."
"Is that so?" Clarisse's grin widened. "And Chiron doesn't know? I'm assuming he doesn't otherwise, he wouldn't have picked you for this."
Luke scoffed and crossed his arms, "I'm the best swordsman at camp."
Luke's arms crossed defensively. "I'm the best swordsman at camp."
Clarisse's sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I don't doubt it. The most humble, too," she retorted, unfazed by his glare. "But let's face it, a search and rescue isn't exaclty your thing anymore. You're more of an action kind of guy. You live off the glory of victory. Chiron knows that."
She was right, Chiron did know that. Which was why he rarely requested Luke to stand in unless there was a catch. Then, the flames in the torches flickered to life, and silence enveloped the candidates. Each demigod chosen by Chiron swiftly took their place, standing tall and resolute by a marble pillar, eager to showcase themselves as the prime choice for the quest. Anything for Kleos. Anything for glory.
Chiron nodded, his gesture sharp and decisive, as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before addressing the assembly. 
"The Oracle has confirmed that this quest is a search and rescue," he stated, casting a brief, confident glance in your direction. "One where you will use all your best efforts to bring Eros back to the safety of Mount Olympus and restore the lost balance. I'm sure you know where to find him." His gaze then shifted to the rest of the candidates. "Here, I have selected some of our most compelling candidates from which you will choose one to join you on your quest, ensuring your success. Annabeth Chase, Atticus Brang, Chris Rodrigues, Clarisse La-"
As Chiron listed the candidates, you carefully evaluated your options, your eyes calculating. In the dim torchlight, Luke could just discern the thin line etched across your face, stretching from the end of your brow to your-
"I choose Luke."
The ensuing silence felt like something they could all drown in, leaving everyone stunned. Even Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spotted Luke's bewilderment. Surely, he must have misheard. There couldn't possibly be any way you had chosen him, could there?
Chiron turned to you, his tone measured. "Are you sure?"
You never shifted your gaze from Luke, who refused to meet your eyes as he stared fixedly at the pillar across from him. Yet, the clenching of his jaw, whether from anger or annoyance or something else, was enough to elicit a satisfied smile from you.
"I'm sure," you affirmed.
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gimmethatagustd · 3 months
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oxygen | jjk
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If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.
○ Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Mafia, established relationship, angst, smut
○ 9 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mafia)
○ Word Count: 2,053
○ Warnings: Organized crime, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, infidelity (MC's boyfriend is Yoongi *gasp*), MC is actually kind of sick in the head lowkey lmfaooo, marijuana (is it a jai fic if weed isn't at least mentioned?), casual conversation about being murdered, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, gunplay, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm control, hair pulling, rough sex, pain kink
○Notes: I was never here. I repeat, I WAS NEVER HERE.
○ Post Date: February 13, 2024
○ Masterlist |
○ What was Jai listening to? Oxygen - Jackson Wang
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“I fucking hate you.”
Jungkook tastes blood as he watches you stumble up the marble stairs, break-ankle stilettos grating into the stone like his molars grate against each other when he chews the inside of his cheek.
It takes three steps before you give up, bending to slip your finger under the thin black strap that hugs each ankle to keep the red bottoms in place. Off-balanced from holding your leather jacket balled up under one arm, you teeter on one foot, and Jungkook has to fight the urge to grab your waist.
Air rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils, a scoff that mixes with the wind. It’s one of the last days of summer before autumn cuts the nights short and chills the air. If Jungkook could have his way, he would be sitting out on his balcony right now with a fat blunt and his phone on silent.
Instead, he’s dealing with you.
“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fucking help me?” you snap, words slurring together when you pout through them.
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek where he’s bitten into the fleshy skin. The metallic flavor mixes oddly with the aftertaste of his half-smoked blunt from earlier.
“Thought you said you hate me,” Jungkook sucks his teeth, tattooed fingers squeezing your bicep to steady you while you unclasp your shoes.
“I do.”
“Hmm.” Jungkook exchanges a grip on your arm for the heels, black and deadly like the Glock clipped to his waist.
Your dress rides up far enough that your asscheeks are exposed when you bend down again, your skimpy black thong doing nothing to cover you. The sheer pair is one Yoongi bought you for Valentine’s Day last year. Yoongi hadn’t batted an eye when he dropped thousands of dollars on a lingerie set that he isn’t even patient enough to appreciate on your body before he rips it off.
Not Jungkook, though. Jungkook is patient.
“Carry me,” you whine, pushing up against Jungkook’s side, nimble fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging.
Jungkook knows not to look up at the columned overhang, but the many cameras lining the mansion's exterior weigh heavily on him as he helps you up the stairs to the front door.
“I can’t,” Jungkook grits his molars, jaw flexing beneath taunt skin, “And you know that.”
The keypad at the front door unlocks with Jungkook’s thumbprint. Inside, the foyer is dark. It’s nearly four in the morning, and the rest of the guards are either monitoring the cameras or asleep. They’re all lower-level and easily bend to Jungkook’s will, meaning none of them will rat you out for slipping off in the dead of night to go party with your friends despite being under strict orders not to leave the house until Yoongi returns from his business trip.
As second-in-command, Jungkook should be in Japan with Yoongi, handling what will likely be one of the largest arms deals in Bangtan’s history. But Yoongi is paranoid, and paranoid men don’t leave their girlfriends with just anyone. Especially when their girlfriends are trouble.
And you? You’re trouble in a tight little black dress, hips swaying as you walk with new purpose through the foyer, your leather jacket thrown on the floor for Jungkook to pick up as he trails behind you — always trailing, following just a half step behind you, only in front when he puts his life on the line over yours. And he does, has the scars on his body to prove it, scars you like to bite to remind him of everything he’s willing to lose for Yoongi. For you.
There are only three types of rooms in the house that don’t have cameras installed: bedrooms, bathrooms, and arms rooms. You like to have Jungkook fuck you in all of them.
Tonight, it’s one of the basement-level arms rooms, the one Yoongi likes to use for entertainment because there’s a full bar and a conference table typically littered with guns, drugs, and money.
And sometimes, if Yoongi is in a shitty mood, girls.
You don’t care what Yoongi does, though it wouldn’t matter even if you did. As Bangtan’s leader, there’s no room for criticism of the boss — unless someone wants to lose a limb or their life, and Yoongi is known to be trigger-happy.
You learned that from him.
Jungkook lets out a shuddered breath as you drag the muzzle of his gun from the middle of his sternum down his abdomen. The metal is cold, and you move slowly, taking your time over every hill and valley of his muscles, painting goosebumps across his skin until you reach the waistband of his underwear.
The chamber is empty, but it still makes Jungkook’s heart jump in his throat when you press the gun against his clothed cock.
“Yoongi is going to kill us one day,” you whisper, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back a smile.
Jungkook leans back with his elbows against the table where you’ve sat him at one of the chairs. You’re in your heels again. Jungkook loves it when you stand over him, a powerful force far too often squandered by Yoongi’s overbearing leadership and desire to be the most feared person in the room. It’s one of Yoongi’s greatest mistakes.
You’re gorgeous, stripped down until all you’re wearing is another man’s Valentine’s Day gift, your own body a present Jungkook has the unholy pleasure of opening again and again — but only after you’ve opened him up, gutted him like a fish.
Or blown him open, a bullet bursting like shrapnel to cut him from the inside out. Jungkook would let you do it.
Jungkook stares up at you with innocent eyes that tell nothing of the secret horrors his hands have done, of the horrors he has endured and inflicted upon others. He stares up at you with innocent eyes and his lips wrapped around the muzzle of his gun that you hold with your finger on the trigger.
“Bang, bang,” you giggle as the gun clicks, and Jungkook lets you slide it further into his mouth, the tangy taste too similar to blood and nothing he hasn’t tasted before.
Maybe it’s fear that makes Jungkook crave you. Maybe Jungkook has a death wish. Maybe Jungkook likes the idea of you being his lifeline, the sole decider of whether he lives or dies. All it would take is one tiny confession twisted into a lie, and you could convince Yoongi that Jungkook came onto you and tried to seduce you.
Jungkook knows Yoongi would enjoy making him suffer if he thought Jungkook was treating you unkindly. Yoongi would enjoy violently murdering Jungkook even more if he knew just how good Jungkook treated you.
You don’t pull the gun back until Jungkook gags. Tears collect along his eyelashes, but he blinks them away as you toss his gun onto the table.
“You’d let him kill you.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook’s voice is hoarse from the gun, and it cracks when you sit on the table in front of him and spread your legs. “I would.”
“You’re fucking stupid.”
“So are you.”
Jungkook’s cock throbs as he watches you slip your thong down your legs. You drag his spit-slicked gun along your dripping pussy, parting your folds and getting the muzzle shiny with your arousal. When his eyes flit up to meet yours, you let out a broken moan, tongue slipping out to lick your bottom lip.
“Come here,” you beckon, the curl of your finger tugging Jungkook forward like a red string tied in a noose around his neck. He fits perfectly between your thighs, his clothed cock pressing against your exposed pussy.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers against your lips. His body crowds yours, forcing you to tip your head back to look into his pretty doe eyes.
“Be a good boy and clean this up first,” you say as you hold up the gun in front of Jungkook’s face.
Jungkook doesn’t look away as he licks a stripe up the length of the gun’s muzzle, too turned on by how intensely you watch him lick and suck your juices off it. How eagerly he bends to your will is pathetic, but he doesn’t care.
When you toss his gun away to dig your nails in his hair and tug him into a bruising kiss, Jungkook feels like he can finally breathe.
You taste sweet, like whatever fruity cocktails you’d been drinking with your friends. Jungkook sucks your tongue, and he feels the vibration of your moans go straight to his leaking cock.
“Fuck me,” you moan with nails in his back, “And make it hurt.”
Jungkook helps you off the table to bend you over it. He may prefer sex that is slow and face-to-face, but Yoongi is coming home in a few hours, and sometimes, you like to punish yourself by denying yourself the sweet, sensual care that Jungkook prefers to give you. Sometimes you like it dirty and fast like this, Jungkook fucking into you with your wrists behind your back and your face pressed into the conference table’s cold, sleek surface.
You look forward to the tender bruise you’ll have on the apple of your cheek and against your hips from where Jungkook fucks you hard enough that you slam into the edge of the table. It’s a gamble, wondering if this will be the time Yoongi finally notices.
Sometimes Jungkook wonders if Yoongi already has noticed, and he’s just biding his time, waiting for the opportune moment to kill you both.
“Fuck, jagi,” Jungkook moans. The table squeaks and grunts as the force of Jungkook fucking you pushes the table back and forth across the floor.
“Do I feel good, baby?” you gasp, twisting your hands in Jungkook’s so you can wrap your fingers around his wrist, too, to have something to hold onto.
“So good,” Jungkook whimpers, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Can I cum? Please?”
Your skin is probably chafing from how hard you’re being bounced against the table, but all you do is moan and clench around Jungkook’s cock, taunting him.
“Jagi, please,” Jungkook begs, hips faltering slightly. You’re so wet and creamy. There’s something about fucking you in the arms room that always makes you feel and sound better.
“You wanna cum? Baby boy wants to cum?”
“Wanna cum so bad, you feel so, fuck, so, so good.”
Jungkook lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips and pull you onto his cock with each thrust. You lift off the table slightly so he can wrap one arm around your waist and slip his fingers through your folds, playing with your clit as he fucks you. He knows he needs to make you cum first before you’ll let him.
"Just like that, you're doing so well," you pant, pussy clenching and pulsing around Jungkook's cock so hotly that he knows you're going to cum soon.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long. Jungkook has you so worked up that you cum once he pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingers while you writhe and squirm on his cock, whimpering his name.
“Come on, baby,” you moan, “Cum for me, now.”
Tilting your head up, you let Jungkook kiss you. He squeezes his eyes shut as he cums inside you, mouth hanging open and completely useless to kiss, so you press light kisses along his sweaty throat instead.
“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers once his body has calmed down, gently easing out of you. His hands shake as he collapses into the chair and pulls you into his lap.
You kiss him properly this time, sliding your hands through his sweaty hair. He’s pussy-drunk, fucked dumb, nothing but static in his head as your lips glide with his. He could stay like this, pliant like clay in your hands, let you mold him into whatever you want him to be. Let you make or break him. Jungkook doesn’t care.
“Tell me you love me,” you demand, nails sharp against Jungkook’s scalp.
“Jagi,” Jungkook whimpers when you pull his hair, “I love you so much. I love you more than anything.”
“More than yourself?”
“More than myself.”
You hum into the next kiss, and Jungkook feels his body melt. 
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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 
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mypoisonedvine · 8 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || william killick x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3.7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption
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"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace.  You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully.  "Doesn't she look ravishing?  Don't I have excellent taste?"
The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to.  That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks.  Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile… as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladies— he just made trouble for them.
"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.
"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him.  "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"
"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.
"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.
"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you?  Can't get anything past this one— sharp as a whip, she is—"
As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now.  He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.
"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you must— all in honour of this lovely woman right here… a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."
As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown.  "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.
"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working together— I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon then—"
You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.
"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.
"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour?  That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.
But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way.  "Speaking of people here for you…" he trailed off.
You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.
"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.
"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.
"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him.  "It's black tie only, you know."
William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together.  "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.
"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.
"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug.  "We know each other, don't we?"
"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy hand— adorned with golden decorative rings— on his shoulder.  
"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh.  "She's already so established with the maiden name!"
"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended.  
"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."
"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.
Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.
“She’s quite a prodigy!” Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then.  “You’ve read what she writes, haven't you?”
“Some of it,” William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment.  “The rest is too sad for me, I’m afraid.”
“Her latest is a masterpiece,” Gordon assured.  “Forbidden love, secrets, affairs—”
“Sordid stuff,” William frowned, shaking his head.
“Sells, though,” Gordon winked.  “Men and women— we’re even selling copies in America!”
William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husband’s hand.  “Aren’t you proud of me?” you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.
“Of course, darling,” he smiled at you, “always.”
“You don’t mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?” Gordon beamed.  “There’s some people over there she should meet— they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.”
“All these book tours, I feel as if she’s hardly ever home,” William sighed.
“Well, we’ve got to keep her on the tours,” Gordon chuckled, “or that pretty face will go to waste!”
William’s jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.
“You should have a drink, soldier,” Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.
He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whatever— you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.
~
Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the night— it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity.  It must’ve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.
William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair.  When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.
“What’s the matter, love?” you asked sweetly, but he said nothing.  “Love?”
“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” he explained flatly.
You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace.  You didn’t even really notice the silence before it was broken.
“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” William said suddenly, and you scoffed— once you realised what he was talking about.
“He’s just that way,” you assured, “I don’t take it personally.”
“And all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writing— that’s not personal?”
You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion.  “Isn’t that why you married me?  I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.”
“But you know him,” William insisted again.  “You knew him before you even met me, you work with him— you spend long hours with him, when I’m gone—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you.  You tilted your head as you approached him.  “William, you couldn’t really think—”
“Don’t patronise me,” he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.
“William!” you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them.  “William, please—”
“Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand.  “Look at your husband, darling.”
You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fiery— yet cold— stare.  “You’re hurting me,” you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.
“I can see, you know,” he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth.  “I can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer.  His hand on your hip—”
“It’s nothing, William,” you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.
“Wearing the dresses he buys for you,” he noticed with a sneer.  “God, he’s got you looking like his fucking whore.”
He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.
“Now you want to play innocent?” William spat as he towered over you.  “I told you to fucking look at me!”
“I can’t!” you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back.  “I can’t, William, not when you’re like this!”
“You made me like this!” he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head.  “You made me like this,” he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl.  “You let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didn’t you?”
“No, William,” you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head.  “Never.  I love you— I love you more than anything.”
“But you won’t tell me the truth,” he snarled.  “The truth, darling, not another story— not another one of your goddamn stories!”
“He kissed me!” you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours.  You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.
“Tell me how it happened,” he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.
“I swear, Will, I told him to stop,” you breathed, “I pushed him away.  I told him I love you, William— and I do, don’t you know how much I do?”
“He kissed you,” William repeated, rage tinting his voice.
“That’s all, I swear,” you promised.
“And you didn’t tell me—”
“I thought you’d get angry,” you defended weakly.
“You didn't tell your poor, doting husband,” he groaned, “your heartbroken husband—”
“I’m so sorry, William,” you whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me, hm?  Because you love him?”
“No!  Fuck, no,” you cried.
“Because you considered it— because you thought about letting him make love to you?”
“No!” you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it.  When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.
“He must have forgotten,” William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet.  “He must have forgotten that you… belong to me.”
You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.
“That these lips belong to me,” he continued with a sigh, “that this neck belongs to me—”
He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.
“That every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,” he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, “belongs to me.”
He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.
“Did you forget too, darling?”
“William, you’ll leave marks,” you whimpered, “you’ll bruise me—”
“Good,” he purred, “then you can’t just take your ring off and act single, can you?”
“I never take off your ring, William,” you swore, “not even to bathe…”
“I still want my marks all over you,” he explained darkly, “I still want you bruised tomorrow.  I don’t just want them to know you’re married, darling— I want them to know how good I fuck you.  I want them to know that your husband fucks you.”
Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.
“And I want them to know,” he continued with a groan, “how much you love it.”
He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees.  Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.
“W-wait,” you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down.  Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down.  “W-Will, love, please—” you whimpered helplessly.
“Fuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,” William sneered.  “If he could see you now— he’d know who you belong to, wouldn’t he?  If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for me…”
He fucked you even harder— his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldn’t fall forward from the force of it.
“If he could see what a dirty little wife you are,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your skin— more marks, you were sure.  “Fuck, you’re soaking me already, darling.”
A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.
“You like it, don’t you?  Playing with me,” he hissed.  “You like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?”
You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible.  “N-no, love, no—”
“You like how I fuck you when I’m angry, don’t you?” he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him.  “Is that what got you so wet, darling?”
Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.
“So sweet,” he cooed, “such a sweet little wife.  You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you are— none of them do, but fuck… they will.”
He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed.  He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hips— it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.
"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wife— how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place.  This is your place, isn't it?  In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock?  Not out with that awful man— not on those godforsaken book tours—"
When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.
"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the way— fuck, you're so beautiful like this.  You're so perfect, my angel…"
He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder.  
No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didn’t see him like this— which you really hoped they didn’t.  From the very beginning, he’d pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published.  And then when he came to your publisher’s office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed.  He insisted you were the love of his life… and before you’d even really gotten to know him!  You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldn’t help but fall for him.  Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive… and creative, much more than you expected.  He had quite an imagination.
Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous.  It had never gone this far before, though.
He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you.  “Look at me,” he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, “look up at me, beautiful.”
He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.
“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you.  Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than before— though still not all that slow.  "My beautiful girl— you can't help it, can you?  The way men feel about you."
A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.
"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too.  I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."
"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.
"I know, I know," he cooed.  "But I still can't stand to think of it… of my darling wife being kissed by someone else.  He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you know— he thought you would let him fuck you."
He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.
“When you’re pregnant, then he’ll know,” William announced proudly as he held your hips.  “Then everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.”
Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that.  He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.
“Say it,” he ordered.
“I belong to you,” you promised, “I’m yours— you know I’m yours, love, always—”
He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun.  “You’ll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,” he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts.  “These nice and full— all of you swollen and soft—”
“W-William,” you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.
“Big belly,” he cooed, “and my baby inside— our baby.  Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?”
“F-fuck,” you choked out, “don’t stop, please… please, my love—”
“I’ll fill you, darling,” he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into it— your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.  “I’ll give you everything I have, every night, until it takes—”
“Please,” you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder.  You cried from the intensity of it all— from everything— as shudders wracked your body.  He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.
“What a good little wife,” he praised as you came, “what a perfect little wife— you want it, don’t you?  To be pregnant, have my child?”
You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you.  But you did, and he growled proudly.
“You will, my angel,” he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.  Just say one more time that you love me, darling— that you’ll always be mine—”
“I-I love you so much, William,” you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily.  “I’m yours— I’m always yours— oh!”
You lost track of your words, but it didn’t matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.
Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love.  It was too much to take even if you weren’t still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.
After coming down from his high— though he was still catching his breath— William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder.  Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed as he held you tightly, “I’m so sorry.  You know it’s just my love that makes me this way— I just can’t stand to see another man lay his hand on you… I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.”
“You break my heart, William,” you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, “when you think I could ever hurt you like that.  When you accuse me of something like that—”
“I just get scared, darling,” he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms.  “I just get scared that you’re too good to be true.  That this beautiful creature can’t be all mine.”
You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter.  “I love you so much, William… I’d never— you have to believe me, I’d never—”
“Shh,” he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it.  “I know, darling, I know.  Because you belong to me.”
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bigfatbimbo · 1 month
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saw ur post ab the vees and i wasn't sure if u wanted nsfw rambles or sfw rambles so like... i'll send the sfw rambles in a separate ask 😭
anywaysss im thinking ab putting them all in their place.... maybe they're all arguing over you or being pissy to eachother in general so you punish them all- seperately ofc, u cant have them getting off in eachothers pleasure bc ik damn well they'd be into watching you fuck someone else especially another one of the vees
i am always willing to rant about the vees🙏🙏🙏
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summary — The Vees being humbled by the reader in the form of loose, unprofessional headcanons and vague thoughts.
warnings — dom reader, sub… everyone else, very messy, not proofread, read at the risk of incoherence
a/n — I HATE THEM SO MUCH!! THEY’RE THE WORST!! Let’s as a society fuck them to tears.
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So, unpopular opinion, I’ve see a few ideas of being the vees collective lay or ‘plaything’ fucktoy, and the idea is so much more fun with a dom reader.
And i’m saying that objectively too, like not just as a dom reader blog. Because these are three people who make up the worst aspects of society, and lowkey are basically just manipulation tactics personified. Propaganda the trio!
Looking at these cocky assholes, who are the embodiment of what is considered terrible people, and who all have unmatched mathematically impossibly high egos, would it just be so fun to fuck the pride out of them?
Especially, for example, let’s say you’re around a lot and you’ve become a trusted person a good fuck for the Vees. They all have terrible attention seeking tendencies, so it would be safe to assume they’d be all over you.
Vox would be trying to talk to you about whatever particular subject he thinks is most interesting (about himself) to capture your attention, while Velvette would be close to you as well, flicking her phone your direction to show you something she finds funny or hot, but mainly as a subtle power-play to get your attention off Vox and onto her.
Valentino would be much less subtle, of course, by nature. He’d be all up around you, touching you, running his hands along your shoulder blades as he walks past, and probably the type to ‘drop something’ and bend over to flash you his fishnets and panties.
Needless to say, they’re all pissing each other off immensely. Obviously, being short tempered people, this leads to an argument because Velvette was ‘talking to you first’ but Vox had ‘actually important things to say’ and according to Valentino ‘the two of you were boring them out of their minds’ and he had to ‘spice your day up.’
Unfortunately for the Vees, you don’t do your one ‘job.’ Your attention isn’t given to any one of them. Yet. You just simply sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone and flicking through channels. Maybe you even actually leave the tower and go eat out or something.
Of course, until later when you pick them off one by one. And no matter who you decide to fuck senseless first, they will be so obviously loud just to be petty because, after all, you did choose them first. Like they would be being obnoxiously vocal about how ‘full they are’ or how ‘you’re going so fast!’ or some other fake shit like that. It’s honestly a whole show. Now, I feel like fucking all of them at the same time is kind of inevitable, because they’re all deprived horny freaks on the lowkey. (Except for Val it’s very highkey.) But I think there would be little mannerisms that appear on one on one sessions that they would NEVER show during a foursome. For example, Vox’s certain… titles he uses. mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink. Because he would literally die before calling you mommy or daddy in front of Velvette or Val. It’s okay when it’s just you because it’d be easier to be vulnerable around someone he trusts to set his dominance fully aside for.
And like, yeah, the other Vees know he gets fucked just like the rest of them, but it’s simpler for him to keep his illusion of dominance and respect out side of the bedroom, if the more shamefully submissive aspects of himself stayed hidden.
Also, I think Valentinos would have an easier time actually giving into to subbing during one on one sessions. Like yes, he does sub when it’s with you all the time. That’s the point of the fic.
But he’s less of a power bottom, and his flirtatious, incredibly disgusting remarks subside much faster into whimpers and whining.
Because, although less professional than Vox, he does still have an image. And when it’s just you fucking him, his vile horny comments disappear into whines for your attention in no time. Well actually a lot of time, but the point is that they actually do. And similar to Valentinos, Velvette’s confidence when bottoming alone with you is increasingly less apparent. Yea, she’s still bossy and definitely a power bottom, but there’s more of a recognition that she isn’t in charge. Honestly, she’s such a princess I think she’d actually have a very hard time going into subspace, even when alone. Because degradation just pisses her off. Why aren’t you worshipping her like you should be? But then it’s, what the fuck, why aren’t you worshiping her like you should be?? It makes her brat out even harder, which she does show in front of the other Vees, until she’s actually just needy to be pleased and given pleasure, making her twice as whiny. That aspect she does not show in front of the vees. But let’s talk about group sex with the Vees. Probably only used as a severe punishment, or a surprisingly giving reward. I have a very particular scene for the severe punishment aspect, however. So they’ve all been bad, but let’s say, for the sake of specifics to set the scene, Val has been worse. It is still a punishment for Vox and Velvette, but punishing them all to the same extent when Val has misbehaved clearly more would be wrong, would it not? They’re all greedy, selfish assholes, so you’ve concocted the perfect form of torture for your useless brats; they don’t receive anything until they’re good. Especially Val. Velvette has a strap on, so she can’t even feel anything but minor friction when you slide your worked open ass onto the plastic dick and open your legs, exposing your empty pussy to none other than Vox. He eats you out reluctantly, while rutting into the mattress as fast as he could, all while you cockwarm (and sometimes roll your hips to press the strap against her pussy uncomfortably) Velvette. Oh, and where’s Valentino? Tied up in a chair in front of the bed, getting a perfect shot while being totally naked and hard. You have a gag in his mouth too, because otherwise he’d be complaining the whole time. Because that’s just not fair, is it? He does this all day for a living. Seriously, he watches people fuck all day. It was his turn to feel something! And you would only have punished him more if he’d done something about this at work today. (Yikes..) I mean, this sounds like complete and utter bullshit. A lose-lose situation! But, it actually is completely fair. And as you’re receiving all the pleasure, from Velvettes feelingless, fake dick, Vox’s tongue while he humps the bed pathetically, and Val’s whines in complaint, you know the punishment is working. You’ve bothered them behind belief, you’ve hit a spot you knew would leave a message. Because none of the attention is on our poor little trio at all. These naturally selfish, greedy people, have to finally give. And god, they’re becoming more desperate for your attention and praise by the second.
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a/n — We all know I love sub Vox. But this opened by eyes to how much I love sub Velvette and Valentino. REQUEST THEM ALL MORE.
Also, Rose, I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU FOR A FIRE ASF PROMPT.
if this flops im throwing myself out of a window btw
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animeshotsh · 2 months
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Control | Various x Overlord!Makima!Reader
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Notes: Reader has the same powers as Makima from Chainsaw Man. Im leaving a link here in case you want to read about them in deep detail.
Warnings: HH violence - Cursing - Blood -
When a soul falls down to hell no one takes notice of it. You were lowkey thankful for it, your clothes the same ones as the one you had died were dity with mud and blood. Your white shirt was ruined, your black coat had holes on it.
Thats a magnificent disaster
You never expected you would be stabed in the back by one coworker, and that would be the cause of your death. But your greed was big and so was theirs so you were sure you were going to meet them down here soon.
As impressive as this was you were not under panic, maybe having to watch your back 24/7 when you were alive had helped to it.
In that dark alley you stood considering your choices when a small creature with horns appear, it showed a knife at you and jumped.
You moved your head to the side "is this a demon?" You wondered swiftly avoiding its attack. Then like instinct you raised your arm, your fingers like a gun, pointing at the demon.
"Bam" you whispered and soon the chest of the demon exploted. You looked at your fingers then at the corpse a few meters away a sadistic smile forming.
"I wonder what more I can do"
~☆~☆~☆~☆
In no time you got a name for yourself, The Control Demon. A Demon who could force others to make contracts with them, a demon who could use the power of the demons who they had a contract with.
Manipulation was your middle name. Overlords respected you and some feared you.
~☆~~☆~☆~☆
Carmilla was always wary around you, knowing your power. Her angel weapons were in reach whenever you attended a meeting. She could see behind that fake smile and eyes.
~☆~☆~☆
Zestial was amazed by your power. He knew he was strong and heavens you were stronger. He would start conversations with you only to try and get on your good side.
~☆~☆~☆
Rosie loved you, she knew you could put all the cannibal town against her but that was just amazing in her eyes, not to say, you using other overlord powers was something to enjoy.
Something she got to know was that you could force a sinner to say a name and by moving your hand that one named would explote.
~☆~☆~☆
Alastor was...well he was interested. He wanted to know if you could get him out of his own contact but then again for that he would have to confess that he had a leash on. Something he did not want to do at all.
~☆~☆~☆~
When Charlie first meet you she was...scared. Listening to your name being told and the stories....but she was sure something good was in everybody so of course she opened her hotel doors for you. Even if you were only there to see the place.
~☆~☆~☆
Vaggie straight up hated you. If Alastor was a pest then you were worse. She did not want nothing to do with you. But she also knew she was no competition against you. Specially after seeing your spiral eyes as you moved away her weapon.
"Please, at least learn how to proper use it, angel"
~☆~☆~☆~
Lucifer was charmed!!
Yes the king of hell fell for your sweet words and compliments like a young fella.
"Your majesty its a pleassure to meet the one who rules in here" You said bowing towards the short king who was suprised by your polite self.
You ended showing him the place after Alastor killed the other sinners and told him sweet nothings about hell and him. How you always have wanted to meet him (no). And he ate all up.
That night Lucifer ended on his bed blushing hard thinking about you.
~☆~☆~☆
Vox had tried to follow you only to end with a panic attack as he saw your spiral eyes staring back at him from one monitor.
"Its not polite to spy you know"
And now Vox has nightmares of you.
657 notes · View notes
jazjelspen · 1 month
Text
my angel baby (part 6)
alastor w/ angel daughter reader
(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)
(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )
(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)
(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )
my editor <3: @kruncher
Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.
You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.
You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.
"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"
You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat. 
A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically. 
In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.
Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.
Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."
Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.
"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"
"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"
Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.
"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."
Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.
Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.
You're stuck with him now.
Lucky you.
Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking. 
You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.
"--isn't that right darling?"
huh?
Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."
Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..
"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"
You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.
He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."
You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."
His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that. 
"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"
He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.
Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "
Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.
"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."
Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.
"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.
"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin. 
"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.
"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"
You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,
"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."
"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"
"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.
Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.
He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear. 
After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"
He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here. 
"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.
You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"
"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at. 
"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.
"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"
As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.
"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"
"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.
"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before. 
"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff. 
You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have. 
You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.
God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.
Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.
"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists. 
Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.
Back to you,
Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies. 
All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks. 
Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets. 
You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell. 
Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.
Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.
First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc. 
The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.
She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life. 
She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.
Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.
"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."
You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."
You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.
But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him. 
She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.
How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.
How.. sad, that truly is.
—---------------------------------------
You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.
You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'
You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do. 
Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show. 
One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive. 
Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.
But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.
You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness. 
Why were you never allowed in his study?
You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.
You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.
Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.
On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..
It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..
You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.
You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.
Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.
"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."
"Yes father, see you soon!"
"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."
He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.
You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement. 
Until you stopped.
'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.
'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..' 
And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.
The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment. 
Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.
Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.
You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.
But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile. 
But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before. 
Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind. 
And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up! 
Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--
"What are you doing here."
Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.
Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.
"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."
"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"
"I'm.. I'm sorry.." 
Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.
"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."
"But I--"
"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."
"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."
"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.
"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."
Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach. 
It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.
He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"
You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.
Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest. 
You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do. 
“_____?”
“Yes?..” 
The energy changed.
“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”
“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”
“Oh I love you very much dear..”
You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice.. 
“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work. 
“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day. 
Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too. 
“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.
“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands. 
Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.
He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.
Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..
You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”
Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..
‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.
‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall. 
‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’
(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)
493 notes · View notes
l1tw1ck · 8 months
Note
Please write more of the toy. PLEASE -🥚
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Toy (2)
dom!bottom!ftm oc x sub!top!masc reader
wellll since you asked sooo nicely and im in the mood to write some sexy dominating men,,, | AFAB Language Used
CW: Non-Con, Dark Content
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Debt Free
CW: Non-Con, Pet Play (Sort of) (puppy pet name, mention of collar and leash)
You were given the opportunity to clear your debt by dating your goddamned debt collector. He fell for you and basically ruined your life, he made you fall deeper and deeper into debt just so he could make you desperate enough to accept his offer. Now you're in his bedroom, wearing a studded collar and a leash. He likes treating you like an obedient dog and making you do things for him knowing you're not allowed to deny him. He could kill you if he wanted to.
He sits comfortably on your face, treating it like a special throne. He arches his back, shivering as he feels your tongue exploring his soft walls. "Mm...just like that, puppy~" He moans. "You've gotten better- uh~!" He gasps as your tongue finds his g-spot. He throws his head back, crying out shamelessly in pleasure as you eat him out. You're not the biggest fan of him but you can't deny the wonderful taste of his pussy and the pretty moans that come out of his mouth. "Yes- yes-" He breathes out.
"Fu- fuck~!" He squirts. "Mmh- such a good puppy.." He grinds down on your face before getting up.
ok i got lazy sorry
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How to Please a Man
CW: Stepcest, Manipulation
this was lowkey difficult to write bc i have no idea how to finger someone 😭😭😭 im an autistic asexual virgin who absolutely hates masturbating with my fingers bc sticky so if anything is off ... thats why
You decided to ask your step father for relationship advice. You're a virgin and you're very nervous about asking out your crush. He was eager to give you advice and even offered to teach you some things.
"I bet you don't even know how to kiss." He climbs onto your lap. "Let me teach you." He doesn't wait for an answer and forces you into a kiss. You try to push him away but he's too strong. He grinds down on your crotch, determined to fuck you.
He finally pulls away from the kiss. "Relax, most guys don't like inexperience. I'll make sure you know what you're doing with him." He stands up and grabs your hand, pulling you into his bedroom and bringing you onto the bed with him. He manages to shimmy his shorts and boxers off, exposing his wet cunt to you. "Don't be scared, try and do what you think would feel good."
You swallow the lump in your throat. He's probably right. Your crush would appreciate it if you knew what you were doing. And this probably doesn't mean anything to him. He's just helping you out. Although you're unaware of your crush's anatomy, this'll probably be helpful for any future endeavors too. You look at his t-dick and hold it with your thumb and index finger, gently sliding it up and down. "Is...is that good?"
"Yeah, so good.." He moans. Jerking his dick is the easiest way to get him off thanks to how sensitive is. "But, you shouldn't rely on just that to please m- him."
"Oh- okay." You slide your finger down his cunt, eyeing him for a reaction. You slowly push your finger inside him, your breathing turns shallow as you take in the feeling of his warmth. You didn't know it felt like this. So warm, so plush, and so fucking wet. God. You feel weird for thinking this way about your step father but dear Lord, his pussy feels amazing. You slide in another finger and fumble around in his insides.
"Try finding my g-spot. You'll know when you find it."
You search around for it, earning a soft gasp from him when you find it. You poke it with the pads of your fingers, effectively pleasing him. You get the smart idea of sucking his dick while doing this.
"Fuck- good boy~" He throws his head back. "That's it. Keep going.."
You find yourself getting turned on by the sound of his moans and his praise. This is so wrong but oh so fucking good.
You keep going until he squirts, making a mess of the bed. You pull your mouth off his dick and lick up his slick before pulling away.
"Do you wanna learn more?" He looks at you with a lopsided smile. You nod eagerly, no longer worried about the morality of this.
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part two for the second part if i remember lololol
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fics-lovebot · 8 months
Text
jungkook recs
main masterlist
pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️
e.r means established relationship
disclaimer: if you came back to read that one fic you liked but can´t find it, its bc the link wasn´t working anymore so I deleted it :/
yandere / mafia / bad boy
bloody love - smutty, king jk, evil jk, obsessed jk, posessive jk, blood thirsty jk like fr, he honestly loves bathing in the blood of those who did him wrong in his eyes, reader is lgb. this is an on going series but I´LL BE DAMNED IF IT ISN´T THE BEST THING I´VE READ in a minute!!, the writing its so captivating, not a single dull or boring moment, i can´t wait for the next part tbh
romantic dreams - yandere!jungkook, tattoo artist jk, boxer!jk, UGHH ITS GOODDD, he´s so toxic frfr, namjoon is sick of his ass lmao, totally obsessed with reader, jealous and possesive af, he´s crazy sdlfjs but i´m into it
toxic noona - yandere!noona, toxic controling relationship, jk is a victim, he´d rather die than leave, reader likes to make him cry, manipulation
crafting new memories - yandere!jk FR, stockholm syndrome, jk kiddnaped reader and fucks her while making her watch herself on the news,,,her own missing sign
twin flame bruise - twin!jk, jeon jeongguk and jeon jungkook, they look the same but are opposites, the one thing they have in common is you. it´s an on going series but I like how the plot is vvv different from what we´re used to
yours insanely - yandere!jk, serial killer jk, detective!reader, he kills women who look like you
darknet - yandere!jk, the internet is scary, human trafficking, jk is scary dangerous, it´s a LOT, just wow
who is in control? - yandere-ish, lawyer!jk, posessive jk, obsessive jk, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, secret relationship, he´s cray-cray
hybrid au / soulmate au / super hero au / alien au
his bunny - smut, fluff, bunny hybrid reader, fem reader, clingy reader
bunnytalk - bunny hybrid jk, owner reader, jk is a sad bunny bc reader won´t return his feelings but it´s all just a misunderstanding
night vision - e.r, alien!jk, suggestive, lowkey smut, bunny hybrid reader, jk has tentacles ,,,,,nothing else to say, flirty fluffy jk, this is dIFFERENTTTT i love it
closer - smut, step siblings au, noona reader, yandere!jk, jk is obsessed with him older step sister, WHEWWW this is intense, very detailed, loved it
slice of life / university au / idol jk
soju - fluff, shy baby hubby jk, reader cooks him his fav meal and he basically looks at her with heart eyes, i love it
you make him go crazy - fluff, idol!jk, slight angst, multiple scenarios, reader is constantly making him go nuts, he is STRESSED lmao, it´s cute anyways, reader is kind of a careless brat but jk wouldn´t have it any other way
you wear his clothes - fluff, thing is...HE gives you his clothes, he´s so boyfriendd
all my fault - angst, fluffy end, hubby jk, in which you pass out after an argument and find him crying when you wake up
call me soon - summer break up, strangers to fwb to lovers, obsessed jk
screw up; over wine - finance major jk x model!reader, first date drabble, he is really into reader so he takes her to a fancy pricey wine and dine but guess wHAT.. he is broke lmao so he straight up PANICS, lowkey highkey secondhand embarrasment but it´s jk so it ends in a cute way
kiss me better -angst, jerk jk, mean jk, misunderstanding, manhandling, he is crying bc he assumed she was cheating but he was sooo wrong, now he is begging, crying, throwing up,,, they make up anyways, its angsty in a satisfying way
you´re leaving me - angst af, hubby!jk, daddy!jk, he found divorce papers after an argument and thought the worse, he starts going crrrazy but as always, it´s a happy ending
snowball - fluff, angst, crack, implied E2L, flashback from their college days. this is part of an upcoming series, and I already love it bc wdym it was lovE at first sight?? galaxy in his eyes, artsy space love talks, fireworks exploding in his chest bc ur giggles are his fav soundddd and everything?? I am HERE for it. he lit spaces out, brain dead, no other thoughts but youyouyou and your pretty self
you´re sleepy but you promised you´d go grocery shopping with him - e.r, its cuteeeee
movie night monday -fluff, e.r, he is impatient lmao, clingy cuddly loving fluffy jk
couple questions with vogue - fluff, e.r, idol!jk, supermodel!reader, I LOVE THISSSS, he is the best boyfriend/fiancé soon to be hubby EVER UGHHHH its so cute
devoted to trouble - fluff, lil angst, smut, comedy, spiderman!jk au inspired by seven??? a masterpiecE. the world finds out he is spiderman but he dgaf bc he only cares about you, #pininggg, reader playing hard to get, man i love tHIS
show you what devotion is - boxer!jk, ballerina!reader, fluff, angst. you´re like his safe place, it´s giving exes to wannabe lovers, they deff like each other and jk wants to eat her uP but he´s wants it to be romantic and stuff, idk idk I liked itttt
you surprise him for his birthday - he´s so boyfriendddddd, this is so wholesome and cute
he can´t sleep bc he loves you so much - now THIS makes me want to drink bleach and die bc of how cute it is, THEY ARE SO IN LOVEEEE, there´s a lot of giggling, a lot of praising, a lot of disgustingly sweet loving talk after sex :´)))))) its such a good read i promise
fighting heart - boxer!jk, fluff, angst, he´s so stressed sldfkj, reader gets in a small accident and jk went crazy when a nurse answered your phone
make a wish - fluff, little smut, best friends to lovers, reader is so sweet, birthday surprise, jk shoots his shot, he only wants to spend his birthday with you
daft pretty boy - basketball cap!jk, classmates to lovers ig, see he´s smart but when he´s with you he gets nervous and forgets how to exist, he lowkey confesses and he´s sraightforward with itt, he´s got a hUGE crush on you lmao
ride - strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, jk is a fucc boy on campus, reader has tattoos and rides the coolest bike, jk has an instant crush, love at firts sight i would say, got him blushing and sweating lmao, this is an on going series but I KNOW it´ll be gREAT, I love it already
in your arms - e.r, fluff, smut, morning secs, waking up by his side for the first time after moving in
encore - game designer!jk, he is cool af, has a fat crush on reader, this is just the teaser of the fic but I really like it
crave you - idol!jk, crack, smut, fluff, hispanic choreographer reader, texting, taejikook, jk is HORNY but he´s a softie too, he´s got a big big fat crush, strenght kink bc we all know he can throw her around like a ragdoll
pretty girl - smut, tattoo artist!jk, chubby reader, THIS IS ITTTTT, he´s tall, dark and handsome, flirty af too, "pretty girl" stFUUUU, they both want to fuck so he shoots his shot at the tattoo appointment
easy - angsty, fuckboy jk, bet!trope, jk plays you so he can get his rent paid, i read this one a lawwngg time ago and decided i was an angst loving hoe
Inevitable - angst, fluff, smut, lovers to exes to lovers, baseball player!jk, dad!jk, parents au, you break up with jk years ago after you got pregnant bc you wanted him to follow his dreams and now he´s back home just to find out there´s a boy who looks just like him.. this is a masterpiece, honestly one of THEE best jk series out there, it has it all fr, the angst is angsty and the fluff is FLUFFY, i love it sm i´ve read it 3 times and never get tired of it
finish line -fluff, nerdy!jk, racer!jki loooooveee itttttt, so cute, so fluffy, this blurb uGHHHHH, just read the whole thing pls
ungodly hour - crack, smut, fluff, college au, broke college student!reader, lowkey slutty!reader, jk is thirsstttyyyyy, simping atp, "who´s dick do i have to suck for a hulu account?" this series is honestly so funny ksjakskjs
ceo au / sugardaddy au / rich bf au / coworker au
Over The Odds | The Confession - ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series
wrong time - smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life
don´t blame me - sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc
failed quickie - cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but it didn´t work, he likes his hair pulled!!1!
someone older -smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again
break up au / cheating au / fuckboy au
night after night - smut, angst, crack, fluff, semi-retired fuckboy jk, red flag jk, stalker jk, break up au, lovers to exes to lovers, he fucked around and found out so he is FREAKING ouT, also he is beggING okk.. we love that, he also has a Harley bc he is bad boy™, they make up anyways bc he is pussy whipped.. or in love, whatevs you wanna call it
seven plus one - smut, angst, they break up for like a week and that shit got him SIMPING fr, standing under the rain begging and stuff, the man is obsessed, we love it
what could've been - smut, angst, rockstar jk, fuckboy jk, ex gf oc, he breaks her heart then leaves to become world famouse, the sees her again, they fuck, he wants to get back together bc he´s still in love but she does´t want him like that
pwp / fwb
woof, woof, woof - smut, angsty, kinda E2L, jealousy, toxic relationship, teasing , unprotected sex
you good?? - drabble, smut, "what if you gave jungkook head?" is righT bc i´ve been thinking about it for a min!!! he is mean ok yall know he is a brat buT, the head is too good to do all that, the man was shaKINg for godssakeee, so good he had to answer with a thumbs up bc reader drained him fr, left him so brain dead he couldn´t even speak
afterglow - smut, fwb!jk, slight possessive!jungkook, dirty talking, degrading nicknames, but he cares ok, he´s trying to get out of the friend zone
every side of you - very pwp, he is a rough sex loverrr, he compares readers moans with angelic melodies like??? he´s so romantic like that, but also: degrading dirty talk, he is rouGH alright, straight up clingy bf after sex, sweet loving talk + cute cute aftercare, he is just pERFECT
come sit on my lap - pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEEE :´)
birthday gift - honoring his 26th birthday with this masterpiece, he like to talkkkk ok?? dirty talk, degrading nicknames kinda talk, "dumb bitch" kinda talk, growling while he calls you names, i was shook fr
he has a lot of cum - boyfriend!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man
riding jungkook´s nose - we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease
fucking in the gym - this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors
wicked - smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading
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“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.
Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,
Wc: 740
A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.
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"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”
"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.
A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.
"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.
"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.
You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.
Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.
It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.
The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.
You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.
The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.
Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.
Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.
In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.
"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.
"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.
His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.
The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.
As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.
Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.
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bunnycvnts · 1 month
Text
demonstration
pairing: lowkey psycho!rafe x dumb!reader
warnings: talk of sexual assault. groping. manipulation. sorta noncon/dubcon. gaslighting. talk of drugging and abuse. detailed description of readers body, excluding skin tone/hair color. perv!rafe. use of pet names (bunny, baby, doll). condescending tone + dumbing down reader. objectification. dumbification.
summary: after spotting a pretty little thing across the bar, rafe will do anything if it means he can get his hands on you.
disclaimer: this was written with plus size!reader in mind as i’ve been getting a lot of reqs for more plus size content. but other than some body descriptions, it’s not really mentioned. reader is also new to town, and pretty oblivious when it comes to crimes against women.
drinking at the country club, surrounded by his kook friends and cute little waitresses, rafes attention was caught by laughter. his eyes scanned the room, searching for the culprit, and he landed his gaze upon a pretty girl wearing a pleated white skirt and a baby pink tank top. you were still laughing and engaged in a conversation with whoever was sitting at the bar with you. you were real shy when you caught yourself in slightly anxious situations, like sitting at a bar alone, until the person next to you struck up a conversation. rafe could see your flushed cheeks from across the room, but his eyes didn’t stay on your face for long.
the conversation around him fell on deaf ears as he studied you. his eyes soon traveled down the length of your body as you sat on the bar stool. thick meaty thighs that smooshed together and into the chair, the fat of your ass hanging slightly over the sides of the chair, and your heavy tits resting against the bar counter top. his mouth felt dry, and his cock twitched faintly in his khaki shorts. he forced his gaze upwards and back to your face, your chair angled in a way that allowed him only to see your side profile. your hair was laid flat against your shoulders with small tendrils clipped back, showing off your hoop earrings. rafe loved hoops. he pulled gently at the collar of his shirt, his body now feeling warmer than usual. he wasn’t sure if he’d seen you before, possibly a tourist or from the mainland. he didn’t know, but he planned to find out.
without a word, he left his table and walked with purpose towards you, hardly noticing the much older man in the seat next to you, flirting shamelessly despite your now uncomfortable laughter. he stood on the other side of you, clearing his throat to catch your attention. when you looked over at him, your cheeks were still flushed and your eyes were slightly wide with panic.
“hey. you know this guy?” his gaze flickered back and forth between you and the moron next to you. the other man scoffed, clearly annoyed by this new presence.
“uh no, not really.” you seemed timid, playing with your hands as you avoided eye contact with either of them.
“no, she doesn’t. but, we’re getting to know each other, isn’t that right, doll?” the guy’s voice made rafes ears want to bleed; he’s not sure how you lasted so long talking to him. the guy was eyeing you up like a piece of meat, his hand brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, even as you shifted away. rafe felt his blood boil at the sight of your discomfort, and even more at the man’s lack of care for it. he was quick to get into the man’s space, pushing his way between the two of you.
“right, right. yeah. and who are you again?” his tone was ice cold, his eyes were narrowed to slits and his arms crossed over his broad chest. the older man stood up, his lack of height in comparison now very obvious by rafes tall form.
“my name is robert, i frequent this club, and id prefer if you’d stop bothering us.” robert’s face was now pale from rafes icy stare and intimidating stance.
“alright, robert. you like fucking with younger girls? you a creep or some shit? i mean, you’re pushing a good 65, and i caught that wedding ring on your finger. your wife not putting out anymore? feel like you need young pussy again? cmon robert, we both know you can’t get it up anymore, so why don’t you leave the pretty girl alone before i take you outside and put you down like a fuckin mutt.” rafes angry words were juxtaposed to his playful tone, and by the time he was done speaking, he was chest to chest with robert.
you stood up abruptly, saying “no, it’s okay. we were just talking, it’s fine. there’s no need for violence.” you were trembling as you put your hand on rafes chest, gesturing for him to step backwards, but all he did was place his hand on top of yours and smile condescendingly.
“oh, bunny, i think there will be if this perverted fuck doesn’t get out of here.” his grip tightened on your hand, and you both watched as robert quickly booked it out of the club after slamming some bills down to pay his tab. after watching robert run, he turned his attention towards you, stepping closer which, caused you to falter and take a step back.
“listen, i really appreciate you for doing that, but you were unreasonably rude. i doubt he was gonna do anything.” rafe tongued his cheek and scoffed, shaking his head. he dragged you outside and cornered you against the wall on the backside of the country club.
“are you serious? he was two seconds away from slipping something in your drink and having his way with you in the men’s locker room.”
it was your turn to scoff and shake your head. “he was touchy-sure and was making me uncomfortable, but people don’t just commit acts of violence in public places. i was fine. i don’t know you and you don’t know me. thanks for getting him away, but he was a harmless old man.”
rafe looked at you like you were stupid, that condescending gaze back in his eyes as he peered down at you. he stepped forward, caging you even further against the wall, his arms on either side of your head.
“you think any man sees your thick thighs and your swollen, heavy tits and thinks of doing anything besides fucking you senseless? are you kidding me? that perv was gonna grope you dumb if you kept talking to him.”
“grope me dumb??? what does that even mean?” you asked him, completely ignoring his comments about your body and instead focusing on his delusional ideas.
“i’ll fucking show you.” his hands fell from the wall and landed on your tits, squeezing the heavy fat over your tank top, pushing them up to spill over the seam. without giving you a second to realize what he was doing at first, he moved his hands again. this time under your skirt, and he felt up the warm plush skin of your thighs until he met the crease of your ass, squeezing the meaty skin in his big hands.
you couldn’t think. his big, calloused hands were draining every thought from your body until he plucked at the seam of your panties. you got a hold of yourself and pushed him off.
“what the fuck. i don’t even know you.” you tried walking away, ignoring the dampness forming in your underwear from his touch. he was quick to pull you back and push you against the wall again.
“see? groped you dumb, it took you forever to realize the reality of the situation and stop me. what if i hadn’t been so nice and stopped when you said to? then what were you gonna do, hm? you need me. i’ll protect you from creeps like that. no man will even think about touching you when they see you on my arm.”
you felt dizzy, not sure if you were comprehending his words correctly. you guess he had a point; his hands had made you freeze, unable to move or stop the situation. what would you have done if that’d been robert, or any other man. you were new to town, didn’t know anyone, didn’t know what places were safe, or even where the sheriffs department was.
you were brought from your thoughts by a light slap to your cheek; it wasn’t rough, but it had caught your attention.
“so, you gonna listen to me and let me protect you or are you gonna leave that perfect little body vulnerable to all the creeps in kildare? because you’re clearly a little braindead and don’t realize a threat when you see one, but that’s okay, bunny. i can fix that.” his face was close to yours, and you could feel his breath on your face, smelling of mint and bourbon. at your silence, he kept going.
his fingertip trailed across your plush cleavage, dipping past your tank top and into the cup of your bra, brushing over your nipple. “look at this, its every man’s wet dream. let me keep you safe, baby.” you could feel his hard cock rutting against your hip, making you whimper. you were at a loss for words, only gazing up at him and nodding as he was still tweaking and pulling at your nipple.
“yeah, you feel that, bunny? you’re too innocent to be left alone with creepy men. this is how you make them feel too, except they won’t hesitate to do something about it. i’m so nice to you already, aren’t i? i’m not like them; i’ll keep you safe from them.”
rafe knew you were shy, he knew it from the minute he saw robert inching closer to you, and you didn’t stop him. rafe knew you needed him, and if talking to you like you were dumb and had no other choice made you realize that, he’d do it happily. he’d scare you into being his. he’d do anything if it meant you’d let him protect you and let him have access to your plush warm body.
after that and throughout the following months, you and rafe got to know each other. you quickly became accustomed to sleeping in his bed, eating every meal with him, sitting in his golf cart while he played, and overall never leaving his side. you’d been scared into complacency, obeying his every word in fear of the dangerous men he often talked about who lived on the island. he said there were many of them—too many for him to call out by name and too many for you to leave the house unprotected.
every night that you spent in his bed was accompanied by rafe showing you exactly what each man would want to do to you. what ideas flooded sickos, creeps, and pervs brains when they saw you. rafe would lay you down or push you against the wall and talk you through it, telling you how lucky you were that this was just a demonstration from someone you trusted, someone who loved you. rather than someone who would only abuse you and fill your holes; there’d be no pleasure in sight for your small body. you’d only be used like a toy by dangerous men, but with rafe he’d love you. after each demonstration, he’d caress your soft skin and spend hours eating you out before giving you another orgasm with his thick cock stuffed inside you, feeling your fluttering and spasming walls clench around his length.
he told you he’d protect you from those men, and if you ever left him, he would be one of those men.
taglist: @sunkissedrafe @mousie101 @cxsmiclore @judessangel @ditzyzombiesblog
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