#tw non con hugging/affection

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, kidnapping, LOTS of non-consensual touching, threats of violence, implied public sex, and unbalanced power dynamics.

Geto Suguru is a surprisingly tactile man.

You wouldn't expect it from a man so cold, so withdrawn, so prone to keeping his hands tucked in his sleeves away from any filthy, undeserving lesser beings like yourself, but it's not hard to spot once you know what you're looking for. When his girls were young enough to put up with it, he always had at least one, if not both of them in his arms, and his preferred form of greeting towards those in his select, but not exclusive inner circle has always been a hug, kiss, or some combination of both. Even when he claims he can't stand to look at you, when he orders you to bathe in scalding-hot water before admitting you so much as might be worth of his affections, he never lasts more than a few minutes before slipping in beside you with excuses of 'you're not thorough enough' or 'I can't even trust you to do this correctly' ready on his tongue. It might be sweet, if it wasn't so controlling. You're not really in a place to complain, though.

He likes keeping you close. For someone he claims is nothing more than a pest, he treats you akin to a lapdog; constantly calling your name, constantly petting through your hair, constantly keeping you pressed against his side or slotted against his chest or perched on his lap, an arm as thick as your leg wrapped around your waist to better snuff out your attempts to squirm. Any attempts to withdraw before he allows you to are met with punishments of the most severe order. You don't like being at his beck and call, having to sit through his depraved sermons for the sole reason that he doesn't trust you to leave his sight, but it's better than being shackled to his bedpost for another four weeks. You can be a lapdog, so long as you aren't a collared one.

Even the politest touch he offers you is unspeakable invasive. You're not sure how he manages to turn something as simple and as shallow as grazing you're lower back into yet another show of his authority over you. Part of it just might be the whole 'genocidal cult leader' shtick (it's hard not to find someone a little creepy after they've abducted, tortured, and traumatized you), but you'd like to think that even if you had entered into his company more willingly, you'd still find his intimacy more than a little off-putting. The worst of it comes at night, when he assumes you're asleep. The way he holds you to his chest, clings to you like a child does a stuffed animal might be cute in another context, but it rarely serves to endear him to you. If anything, it only proves that even unconscious, his greatest pleasure in life is smothering you.

Worst of all, he's handsy. That, in itself, shouldn't be all that surprisingly, but the lecherousness of it, the shameless of it still manages to leave you as disgusted as you are unnerved. It's rare for a full hour to pass in his company without his hand slipping under the collar of the silken kimono's he dresses you in and groping at your best until he's left indents in the shape of his blunt nails. Other times, his fingers will find their way underneath your skirts or into the waistband of your shorts while he's preoccupied with another matter, splitting you open on his fingers with all the attention one might pay to tying their shoes or brushing their hair. If you're lucky, he'll choose a private moments, one where you'll be forced to fall apart for his entertainment alone, tucked safely away from the prying eyes of his co-conspirators and congregation.

You don't get lucky very often.

Sometimes, you think he does it just to be cruel. He does most things to be cruel, and this would be far from the only way he's cruel to you, in particular. But, when drapes himself over you at night, when he drags you so suffocatingly close to his side, when he grinds his palm into your most sensitive point of vulnerability and whispers so possessively that you ought to be thankful for each second long he lets you live, it's not cruelty you see in Suguru's dark eyes, but rather something much, much more dangerous.

Desperation.

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Gyomei Himejima NSFW Profile

Yandere! Gyomei Himejima x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of non-con, reader is implied to be smaller than Gyomei but let's be real EVERYONE is smaller than him regardless of your weight or height, anal play/fingering (m receiving), allusions to breeding, sub-ish Gyomei, masturbation, minor objectification, Gyomei is whipped, Stockholm Syndrome, accidental exhibitionism, Gyomei is a stone cold virgin (haha I am very funny), fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13.6K

HABITS:

 Sex is not a priority for Gyomei.

Not only does his lifestyle make having a partner difficult, but even the physical act of sex is something he’s never been particularly interested in. He’s just simply not that physical of a man – affection isn’t something he’s especially comfortable with, and while he wants nothing more than to hold you and keep you in his arms forever (and he really does mean forever, something he doesn’t hesitate in reminding you), touching you isn’t at the forefront of his mind.

And this is especially true in the context of sexual intimacy – it’s one thing to crave holding your hand, but it’s another to crave having your thighs wrapped around his head. It’s one thing to desire you falling asleep with your cheek pressed against his chest, but it’s another to imagine you perched on top of him, your pretty moans of his name making his cheeks feel hot and his pulse rising dramatically.

It feels disrespectful, more than anything, to imagine you in a sexual light; he’s already painfully aware that having any sort of romantic feelings towards you is wrong, but to doom himself even further with explicit, lewd fantasies of you? Just the thought makes him bristle, unease and shame crawling up his spine because only perverted men do that, men with no morals or self-control.

And he’s able to keep this mentality for an impressively long period of time - you’d be hard pressed to catch him having any sort of risqué thoughts regarding you for much of the time his obsession festers, the furthest possible thing being imagining kissing you and gently cupping your cheeks.

(And even then, the idea of slipping his tongue into your mouth makes his cheeks feel hot, his entire body feeling like it’s on fire and making him hurriedly forget the thought, instead busying himself with imagining hugging you or pressing a quick kiss to your temple. But as time passes, if his concentration lessens for even a single moment, then he’s suddenly thinking about you putting your tongue in his mouth, and suddenly he needs to sit down, his head feeling dizzy and light and overwhelmed.)

He manages to stay within the confines of innocent fantasies of you, physically conditioning himself to halt any thoughts further than holding you by pinching himself or biting his tongue, anything at all to deter such thoughts and reprimand himself. But really, while Gyomei may be a very morally guided man with one of the gentlest hearts, he’s still a man.

And like most men, he has needs – even if he himself isn’t truly aware of them.

And so, while he forces himself to stay respectful of you during the day, he’s not so in control of his thoughts at night. It’s not as easy to stop himself from playing out vivid, pleasure-filled scenarios when he’s in the grips of slumber, his subconscious running wild and imagining how you’d feel with your hands on his body, your soft breasts pressed against his own rigid chest, your lips kissing his neck, and the wonderful warmth between your legs that he’s absolutely sure would be such a tight fit, truly stretching you out in every possible way.

(And god, while the size difference intimidates him ever so slightly because he doesn’t want to hurt you, there’s something about the fact that you’re just so damn tiny compared to him that makes something primal and territorial stir in his gut, the sense of protectiveness and ownership he feels over you only amplifying, despite his wishes. And then he’s imagining the way you’d squeal and grasp onto him as he sends rope after rope after rope of thick, white cum as deeply inside of you as he can manage, and it’s only then that Gyomei truly gives up any hope of not viewing you in a sexual light because how can he not fantasize about stuffing you so full that you’re leaking it? Leaking him?)

He’s woken up to messy sheets, a sweaty body and heavy breathing more often than he’d like to admit, the cum smeared across his softening cock and the material of the bed making him feel dirty, ashamed and disgusting.

(And when he sees you later that day, you’ll notice he’s a bit quieter than usual, not standing as close to you as he normally would, but if you bring it up he’ll only tear up a bit, telling you to disregard his strange behavior, but not really giving you a reason for it. He can’t lie to you, it feels wrong, but he can’t tell you, either, so he settles with omission, praying you won’t push the issue further.)

And so, as time passes, slowly he’ll find himself becoming a victim of the lust that begins showing itself, rearing its ugly head when he finds himself wanting you most, the bouts of loneliness he feels late at night making fighting off his desire difficult.

But even then, Gyomei has the patient of a saint and could probably stave off his urges to actually touch himself for the rest of his life. Dirty thoughts, no, but the act of actually stroking himself or acting upon those thoughts? He could, if he really tried – or at least he could without the intervention of something outside of his control, something that pushes him to finally, finally give in.

And that intervention comes one summer evening, when the wind is warm and the night air is full of liveliness. The village he’d been sent to had a night market that was bustling, hence the presence of a demon slowly picking off the shoppers every night. Finding and destroying the demon was quick and easy, and as Gyomei wandered through the market after completing his mission, a wrong turn led to a rather shocking discovery.

The woman’s voice sounds almost exactly like yours, only a bit higher, a bit more slurred, a bit sultrier as she moans presumably the name of the man pinning her against the wall. The alleyway between the two buildings in the downtown segment of the town reverberates her cries strongly, the wet sucking and kissing noises as the man worked at her neck making Gyomei freeze, embarrassment slowly creeping up his spine.

Of course, Gyomei isn’t naïve – he knows about the intimate relations between men and women, and although he has no sexual experience of his own, the heavy breathing, racing hearts and wet plap plap noises echoing down the alleyway towards him tell him more than enough about what exactly is taking place just a few meters away. He knows that this is really quite a private moment, and he knows that he should really, really move.

And yet, the similarities between your voice and the woman’s make him pause, his legs suddenly feeling like lead, even as the man’s grunts and questions of you like that, baby ring in his ears, making Gyomei’s eyebrows shoot up because oh no, what a horribly inappropriate thing to be hearing.

A particularly harsh thrust and a nearly pained groan from the man has Gyomei suddenly moving, sensing that the man is close to his end and the Hashira would prefer to give them privacy during such a moment. He tries to continue on with his evening, focusing entirely on the feeling of the beads between his palms and the bustling sounds of the town’s evening life as he heads back towards the more populated area, but the damage is already done.

The woman sounded so much like you that it haunts Gyomei that night, the sound ringing through his ears on repeat and driving him nearly mad, forcing him to head back home to his estate early. Once he’s smelling the familiar air of his home (tinged ever so slightly by your scent, you having visited earlier that day and leaving a lingering reminder of you that he immediately deeply inhales once he enters), Gyomei relaxes ever so slightly, head dipping down in shame as he notices the way his trousers are still fitting tightly, the woman’s sounds and the small, barely-there thoughts he’s trying to repress about your sounds physically affecting him.

Furrowing his brow, he resigns himself to the knowledge that he’ll likely spend the rest of the evening hard enough to be uncomfortable, instead simply sitting and resting atop his bed. He tries to distract himself as the minutes slowly tick by, thinking of training, praying, and anything else he can conjure up, brain working as frantically as possible because the idea of you moaning his name in that same wanton, needy way just absolutely refuses to leave him.

It’s infuriating, really, and it leaves Gyomei with a heavy sense of shame in his gut because it’s just so, so disrespectful to be thinking of you in such compromising, lewd ways. It’s abhorrent, truly a sign of just how weak he’s become in your hands, all without you even realizing it.

The next few hours are painful, his erection remaining prominent and sweat beading his brow, his concentration waning the longer it drags on. Every time he lets his mind wander, it’s turning back to you – he’s thinking of the delicious smell of curried meat that was coming from a market stand, and suddenly he’s imagining the way you would suck on the meat stick, and it’s not long before he’s thinking of how you’d suck on his lips, his fingers, him –

He sits up abruptly, biting his lip and forcing himself to his feet. And eventually, as Gyomei tasks himself with whatever simple task he can think of as a distraction, the concentration and resolve eventually breaks. The neatly folded pile of his clothing in the corner of the room shouldn’t make him pause as it does, but as his fingers feel over the fabric to identify each piece, he can’t help but notice the presence of something new atop the other items – something lighter and softer, a material completely unlike the rough, thick fabric of his uniform.

Curiously, he brings the material up closer to his face, leaning down slightly and inhaling, only to immediately stop, eyes going wide because fuck, this is your shawl, isn’t it?

You’d accidentally left it in his home and he’d placed it in the corner with the hopes of keeping it out of the way to preserve it and not accidentally ruin it. And yet, as he stands there, muscles tense with each inhale bringing your scent to his nose again and again, Gyomei finds that he simply can’t take it anymore. He’s so hard that it hurts, and with the smell of you filling his lungs, how can he possibly hold himself back any longer?

And so, with a heavy heart and shame creeping up his neck, Gyomei finds himself once again laying on his bed, back flat against the ground and swallowing heavily. He’s never touched himself before – maybe once as a young teenager, but he’s simply not had the time nor desire to, and he’s ashamed to admit that he’s nervous.

But then he’s imagining the way you’d moan again, your pretty voice ringing in his ears, the syllables of his name rolling off your tongue like velvet, G-yo-mei whimpered in his ear as he kneads at your breasts, thumbing at your nipples and kissing along the sensitive skin of your jaw.

And that’s all it takes for him to gently loosen the belt of his uniform trousers, his hand slightly trembling as he shuffles them down a bit, the cold air brushing against his freed cock and making him shiver slightly.

He’s slow and methodical as he very, very slowly relaxes. Guilt still consumes him, but he’s already got his pants off, cock in hand – and soon, he’s throwing caution to the wind and instead focusing on the idea of you.

He starts by imagining a simple part of your body – your hands, the ones whose fingers always brush his own, resting against his clothing as you compliment him, always feeling warm and soft and so, so very foreign. He swallows, his fist moving to grip himself at the base, the dull pleasure making his toes curl a bit.

Then he’s mentally picturing your arms, remembering the way they feel against his palms. He’s sure the skin there is soft, too, and he squeezes tighter as he thinks of the way you’d wrap them around his neck as he thrusts into you, hovering over you and trying to get as deep as he possibly can – he wants to feel every possible inch of you, to leave you stuffed full enough to be a gasping, stuttering mess.

He’s imagining your collarbone, his free hand coming up to trace his own for reference. He decides that your must be more delicate, softer, pretty and mirroring the shape of your jaw. Slowly, his hand begins moving upwards, a low, uneven breath falling from his lips because oh, this is a strange feeling.

He’s not entirely sure what breasts feel or look like, but as he licks his lips, he thinks back to all the (unpleasantly and unwilling) conversations he’s overheard from perverted older men. Soft, he thinks, and surely firm enough to grasp onto – one hand continues the slow, steady strokes as the other reaches up in front of him, shame eating away at him as he spreads his fingers, cupping and squeezing them as if your chest were right in front of him, your pretty tits bouncing, the plap plap noise of skin hitting skin filling the room.

He quietly groans your name as he continues to squeeze, head lolling back slightly against the floor, a strained look crossing his features because no, he knows the feeling that’s coming is an orgasm but dammit, he wants this to continue, even as depraved as it is. Even as disrespectful and rude – even as badly as he hopes and prays that you do this thinking of him, too.

His thumb comes up to quickly swipe at his tip, his abs clenching tightly at the sensation. He’s thinking of your stomach – it’s soft, he just knows it, the perfect thing for him to grab at, imagining the way he’d rest his head against the soft pudge of your lower tummy as he licks and sucks between your legs, feeling your thighs cage around his head, squeezing and crushing and fuck fuck fuck –

He groans your name, hips bucking up and up as he imagines what lays between those pretty thighs of yours, the exact picture a mystery but the idea making every nerve feeling like it’s on fire, white hot pleasure burning its way from the pit of his stomach through to every limb.

He’s sure fucking you would be heavenly – he’s heard women’s genitalia described as warm, wet, and tight, and the mere idea of you being that way is enough to get him gasping, his orgasm hurriedly approaching and his concentration too haphazard to use a technique to slow his breathing and delay the inevitable.

It’s futile, really, because when he imagines the way you’d clutch onto him and tell him such sweet praises, your pretty lips pressing against his desperately, whining that you want him, that you need him, it’s only natural for him to start bucking up into his hand, thrusting against his fist faster and faster and faster, the sound of his ass clapping back down against his bedsheets reverberating through the room, along with the wet slapping noise of his balls clapping against his fist as he imagines fucking into you harder, faster, more more more –

And just the idea of you moaning a breathy, adoring I love you, Gyomei is enough to get his back arching up, every muscle in his body going taut as spurt after spurt of warm, thick cum spurts from his tip, landing in rivulets across his chest, feeling hot and wet even over the fabric.

He’s panting, breathing heavily and bathing in the aftershocks of his orgasm, cock still pulsing and throbbing even as the minutes tick by, still mostly erect even as he grasps at the sheets, a fresh wave of tears beading at his eyes because what has he done?

Clarity rushes back to him and for a moment he’s in shock, the pleasure still numbing his senses. He’d masturbated to the thought of you – imagining your naked body touching his own, fantasizing about the way he’d taste you, how he’d ever so carefully ease inside you, a thumb constantly pressing against your clit to make sure everything feels as good for you as he’s sure it will feel for him.

He’s breathless, disappointed in himself, and as he silently sits up and washes himself up in the bathroom, scrubbing at the drying cum stains on his uniform, Gyomei can only sigh. It’s truly amazing what you’ve done to him – what you’ve reduced him to.

And yet, as Gyomei walks towards your home the next day with the intention of walking you to the market, he can’t help but subtly take wider steps, hoping to adjust himself as he grows hard at the mere thought of being close to you.

What have you done to him?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Voice

Due to his blindness, Gyomei perceives your beauty in more meaningful ways than simply your appearance.

He fell in love first with your voice, the things you say never failing to leave him in awe of your kindness and your humility. He falls in love with your laughter, loving the sound and finding himself speaking more often simply for the chance to say something that would amuse you.

(Something that both you and others will notice, if only because it’s extremely unlike Gyomei to say anything even remotely hinting at humor, and while his comments often don’t land as he intended, you’ll often times end up laughing simply because it’s so out of character and odd of him. And oh, in the moment Gyomei is basking in the sound of your laughter, committing every inhale of breath and slight snort to memory, obsessively replaying the sound over and over and over.)

And so, when he’s falling into the depths of loneliness, arousal and desperation for you becoming too difficult to handle, he’ll think of the lulling sound of your voice, the way you roll your letters and how you enunciate your words. He’s memorized your speech patterns, always trying to engage you in conversation just so that he can listen to you talk, eagerly absorbing everything you say because it all feels important, like he’d be doing you a disservice to not memorize every little quirk, mannerism and opinion you have.

And so while his love for your voice begins platonically and innocently (or at least as innocent as it can be, considering his feelings for you are anything but), Gyomei finds that over time, this sentiment begins changing.

Sure, he’s still in love with your voice, but now he can’t stop thinking about what you’d sound like when you’re out of breath, when you’re moaning, when you’re whining and keening and begging and needing him to please touch me Gyomei, I need it so bad please please please –

He’s fantasizing about what you sound like during sex long before he feels comfortable with it, his mind conjuring up all these questions and hypothetical scenarios without his control. He’s idly wondering if you’re more of a moaner, all high-pitched and girly, plentiful sounds that are expressive enough for him to very easily and quickly be able to read exactly what you’re feeling, exactly what you’re wanting. Or perhaps you’d be a little deeper, more of a groaner, more likely to let out sighs rather than whines. Or perhaps you’re just very quiet - he’d be happy with that, too, finding that the minimal sounds he does manage to get out of you are all the more rewarding, all the more precious and worthy of cherishing.

(He’s even found himself, in a moment of dissociation as he tries to sleep, mimicking what he imagines your noises would be like – he catches himself after the third moan slips out, immediately stopping himself and becoming mortified because oh god, does he now not even have autonomy and control over his own body and actions?)

And once he’s stolen you away, his hand forced by some external event, Gyomei’s love and appreciation for your voice persists. He’s still captivated by it, except now he’s paying even more attention, listening to your heartbeat and the way you breath, finding himself pressing his ear up against walls when he wants to give you space but still needs to hear you.

Once your sexual relationship begins, he’s absolutely addicted to drawing all sorts of sounds out of you – he wants to hear your every moan, your every comment, every everything because he wants to know exactly how you’re feeling and what he can do to make it better for you.

He’s always encouraging you to be louder, to be more expressive, always asking you questions during sex in attempts to get you to be more vocal. It’s selfish, sure, but with the way his cock throbs at the sound of your voice, can be really be blamed?

You just have an effect on him – one he absolutely adores, shivers running up and down his spine merely at the sound of you breathing.

His Fingers

Even outside of the bedroom, Gyomei is reliant on his fingers. It’s a necessary part of his job – wielding his axe and flail, praying, even simple day-to-day activities. They’re thick, and they’re strong – calloused and weathered with the scars of battle and a tough life, and Gyomei has remarkable dexterity and control over them.

And while he may be blind, Gyomei notices almost immediately that you seem to take a liking to them, once your fear and apprehension towards him starts to wear off, once you start to see him as less of a threat and more as a provider, a lover, even.  

So while he’s never really given them much thought, there’s just something about how you react to his thick, scarred digits that makes him positively swoon with happiness – it starts off relatively platonic, with you simply touching his fingers. Letting one of his hands rest in your lap, your smaller fingers comparing sizes, tracing scars and callouses, idly toying with them as you talk about something seemingly trivial to you.

(Little to you know that Gyomei is listening with rapt attention, every one of his senses heightened because you’re touching him, and it feels so soft and sweet and adorable that he almost thinks he might combust, his cheeks feeling warm and something fluttering in his stomach.)

It’ll move to you asking him to rub your shoulders, letting out little moans at the feeling of him running thumbs against your back, digging in – carefully, of course – against the tight, sore muscles of your shoulders, all the while Gyomei has to focus on continuing his job and relaxing you, ignoring the rather insistent erection pressing heatedly against his pants as a result of your sounds, the feeling of your skin, and the proximity of your scent.

And of course, you absolutely adore his fingers in the context of sex - one of them is enough to have you pleading with him to wait, please, the stretch is too much, you need a second to adjust, immediately pausing or pulling back, listening to you and asking if you’d like him to try again, if he should go slower, if you’d like to be done and instead do something else, or nothing else at all.

(He hopes, prays, even, that you’ll let him try again, that you’ll let him sink his fingers into you, curling and rubbing and mapping out every inch of you like some sort of sacred knowledge, like knowing you inside and out is his only purpose.)

And while Gyomei has never been an especially prideful guy, he can’t help the surge of satisfaction that rolls through him at the knowledge that he’s enough for you in bed, that he’s able to satisfy you and give you what you want at any time, sometimes even with just his fingers alone.

He had no experience before his infatuation with you began - he’d never even kissed someone, let alone fingered them or been inside them, but once he realizes how badly he wants to make you come, how desperately he needs to hear up-close the way you sound as your orgasm crashes through you, he’s suddenly learning as diligently as he can, taking into consideration your every whimper, moan and gasp.

Soon, he’s able to pinpoint your spot within the first three thrusts, and once he feels the way you tighten around him, almost as if you were sucking his fingers in further, deeper, he gets to work - he’s thrusting, curling, rubbing and stretching you out just how you like it, hearing the symphony of your noises and cries, along with the lewd squelching noises of his fingers pushing and pulling out of you again and again.

And when his calloused fingertips find your already swollen and sensitive clit? Honestly it’s game over – they’re never leaving the spot, quickly learning precisely how you like to be touched, the accuracy and ease of the movements nearly unfair as you squirm and writhe and gasp out his name.

Gyomei is determined, and he will get you to come, if it’s the last thing that he does. After all, how can he call himself good enough of a lover for you if he can’t even manage to do that?

DRIVE:

Before his infatuation with you began, Gyomei’s drive was quite literally nonexistent. The thought of sex hardly ever crossed his mind, and if it did, it was immediately shoved away, pushed aside for more important matters in his everyday life. Survival, hunting demons and saving innocents took all of his free time and energy, and touching himself was both unnecessary and a stark reminder of not having a partner.

(Something that doesn’t bother him up until he meets you – because now he’s suddenly hyper aware of what couples do. He’s constantly thinking of holding your hand, brushing back your hair and cupping your cheek, softly pressing his lips to the corners of your mouth and against your jugular, holding you in his arms at night to keep you protected from both the cold and any wayward demons. And of course, the other things couples do – the things that make him feel like some hormone-driven teenage boy for being so easily flustered, for being so horribly eager to try them out with you.)

His libido was essentially non-existent, and while he’d sometimes overhear Tengen talking in shockingly explicit detail to Rengoku about his latest sexual escapades with his wives, he genuinely never felt the need to even so much as think about intimacy like that, let alone indulge in it.

But once you worm your way into his heart, suddenly the urge to be with you in an intimate manner is just too much to ignore. Of course, it’s still very gradual – it takes years of friendship in order for Gyomei to even form romantic feelings towards you in the first place, much less feelings to this degree. And even once they’re realized, it’ll take a long while before he moves past fantasizing about simply sitting by your side and slowly breathing in the air you’re exhaling and instead towards fantasizing about fucking you until you’re crying.

But as time passes and he slowly gives in more and more to his better judgement, Gyomei finds himself idly toying with the thoughts lingering at the edges of his subconscious – ideas of how you’d feel underneath him, how your lips would curve against his skin, how you’d keen and sigh his name. It becomes too hard not to imagine the way your pretty cunt would suck in his fingers, clenching down and fluttering around him as he curls and thrusts them, listening to the beating of your heart and slowly but surely finding every spot that drives you absolutely crazy.

His drive is still quite low even once he realizes his infatuation with you (simply finding that while he very, very much wants to have sex with you, it’s not something he needs on an hourly or daily basis), but the more lewd, dirty thoughts about you are most certainly still swirling in his mind.

And really, how can he be expected to not fantasize about you?

 You’re so beautiful, inside and out, and Gyomei is sure that if you were to allow him to touch you in such an intimate way, he'd be in heaven. The softness of your skin, the tightness of your throat, the warmth of your pussy…

(He’s heard, once again mainly from Tengen but also from others he’s unfortunately overheard, that vaginas tend to be warm, hot even. Initially, he’d just thrown aside this information, having no use for it, but the comments flow back into his head as he tries to picture what your cunt must feel like. Warm makes sense, but then he’s thinking of how it’s supposedly so very wet, assuming the woman is aroused, and Gyomei can only gulp at the thought, imagining the wet schlock noise that would ring in his ears when he’s got you bouncing in his lap. And of course, the tightness – he’s gripping himself harder at the mere thought, gasping sharply as he brings his fist up and down, varying the strength of his grip as he imagines where you’d be tightest, how your walls would squeeze and massage at him just how he’s been told it is.)

And you make it very, very hard to keep the thoughts from entering his head once he's accepted his sexual attraction to you.

When he notices the little sound you make when you throw your arms over your head and stretch, how can he not think of the way you’d squirm and cry out when he gently, sweetly presses a finger inside of you, curling and rubbing at the spot that Tengen promises will make you feel good? And although he knows it’s probably a bit inappropriate to be thinking of you in such ways despite you not being married quite yet, he honestly can’t help it - you’re too attractive to him, you mean to much for him to not want to be with you in every possible way.

After all, Gyomei wants to do everything in his power to make you as happy as possible, and if it means burying his face between your legs for hours on end and bringing you to your high a few times, he’s already plopping down onto his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

(And even if you don’t really want it, Gyomei is still more than happy to taste you, practically begging you without saying the words, reminding you that he can make you relax, please allow me to pleasure you, it should help with your headache. And while it’s mostly for you, genuinely, there’s still a selfish part of him that’s hurriedly settling your pretty cunt over his face because he wants your thighs caging around his head, the taste and smell of you enveloping his senses, to have every ounce of your attention solely on him him him.)

He's not perpetually desperate for you in a sexual sense, but once Gyomei’s infatuation settles in for long enough, he will not turn you down should you offer.

That said, Gyomei will never force anything physical onto you in any capacity.

(And this is true In all senses – obviously he won’t force you into sex if you don’t consent, but he also won’t do things like holding your hand or calling you petnames, wanting everything in your relationship to be as reciprocated as possible. Except, of course, where your safety is concerned – if he looks the villain for kidnapping you, so be it, but at least he isn’t pinning you down and taking what he wants from you. Though with his stature, you’re aware that he could take practically anything he wants and you’d not be able to do a thing about it.)

While he isn’t especially experienced with romantic relationships, he’s more than aware that consent is everything, that each action and step should be accepted by both parties, whether it be a peck on the cheek or bending you over the nearest counter and leaving you sore.

Gyomei hates when you cry, and as the target of his obsession, this works in your favor - while you’re likely to develop sympathy and possibly even some warped sort of love for him, you won’t ever have to worry about being taken advantage of, or being put in a situation in which you’re forced to do something physical that you’re uncomfortable with. His top priority in any situation is you, and how can he justify shoving his tongue down your throat if you’re cringing, pushing at his far too muscular chest, showing obvious signs of fear?

How can he enjoy spreading your legs and running a thick finger up and down your folds when you’re shivering, whimpering with a few tears trailing down your cheeks?

He’d never forgive himself if he touched you without your consent, if he hugged or kissed or - heaven forbid, fucked - you without your explicit agreement, and this honestly ends up advantaging him in a strange way. It’s wrong and you know it, but eventually you’ll begin to grow fond of his gentle touches, his way of treating you as if you were made of glass, far too fragile and breakable for this world.

Perhaps it’s Stockholm Syndrome or the extreme isolation of only seeing one other person on a consistent basis, but eventually you’ll stop caring, justifying your growing yearning for his touch as simply a natural response to your situation. And at some point, you’ll want him to go further - no longer is a soft caress of your cheek enough; no, you want him to press his thumb against your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in just enough to pop it past your lips, settling on your tongue and telling you in that calming, deep voice of his to suck.

At some point you’ll decide that instead of him simply placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head as a sign of subtle, noninvasive affection, you’ll want him to instead have you on your knees before him, that same hand pressing your head down as you choke and gag on what you’re sure is a very, very sizeable cock. And once you voice these needs, gathering the courage and confidence that he won’t reject you (he would never, no matter how compromising or humiliating what you’re requesting of him is), Gyomei will be shocked, flustered, nervous, even.

When you shyly tug at his belt, kissing along the line of his jaw and whispering his name in a way that gets shivers erupting over his whole body, he won’t fight you. And all throughout the process he’s asking for your consent, refusing to move his hands until he gets explicit verbal confirmation that he can touch your back, your waist, your tits, your thighs, your ass, your cunt, your everything.

(Honestly, the question of are you sure, is this okay, does that feel good that constantly falls from his lips is almost too endearing, the ever-so-slight tremor in his voice giving away just how excited and nervous he is to be getting so intimate with you, as if the very, very insistent bulge pressing against your ass isn’t enough to tell by.)

It’s in moments where he’s completely vulnerable with you that the Stockholm Syndrome really accelerates: he’s slowly drawing circles against your clit and listening as if his life depends on it to the changes in your breathing, your moans, feeling the way your hips and thighs twitch at certain stimulation. It’s sweet, really, how attentive Gyomei is and just how anal he is about making sure that you’re comfortable with everything, and with each soft moan of his name and each orgasm he coaxes out of you, Gyomei can only thank whatever is listening, savoring the taste of you like a starving man and trying to memorize every inch of your body.

(It’s in the times of post-orgasmic bliss that he finds himself incredibly grateful for having prioritized your comfort and not pushed you into anything too early – sure, covering his mouth with the section of his happi you’d touched early in the day and absolutely yanking at his cock, his fist moving so quickly it’s nearly a blur wasn’t ideal, but it lead to this. All those evenings spent desperately trying to orgasm to release some of the built up sexual frustration and to minimize your chances of seeing the rather massive tent in his pants were worth it – anything is worth it to have you cuddled up in his arms, cheek smoothed against his bare chest, your soft breaths puffing against his nipple and making him lick his lips. Anything at all.)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Oral Fixation

Specifically, Gyomei absolutely adores going down on you.

In general, he’s a giver in bed. He’s not a selfish lover by any means – in fact, he’s almost infuriatingly generous, prioritizing your pleasure over yours no matter the situation to the point that it’s almost irritating. And because he’s so cautious and aware that he’s significantly larger than you and thus has a cock proportionate to his height and stature, he knows that he needs to take things slow and spend a very, very long time preparing your body to take him.

And Gyomei’s personal preference is to use his tongue on you – to spread your legs and leave you squirming against him, the taste of you invading every one of his senses and only driving him to lick with more fervor, to suckle harder, to give you more more more because he needs you to be ready and able to take his cock or he thinks he might go insane.

He likes the intimacy of using his tongue on you – it means you trust him, he thinks, and there’s something so wonderful about the lewdness and vulgarity of it all. Having his mouth on the most sensitive, personal place on your body, all while your thighs cage his head in, your hips twitching and your fingers tunneling through his hair. He loves the way he feels so close to you – like he’s experiencing the most real, raw part of you that he can, the feeling almost as euphoric and intimate as having his cock nestled inside of you, warm and snug and full.

He loves the smell of you – it’s musky and earthy, something that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head and something resembling a groan slip from him at a mere whiff of between your legs, often leading to his hips bucking on their own, unconsciously moving to come closer to the source of your scent, his body physically unable to stop itself from trying to rut and fuck into you.

(Something that embarrasses Gyomei slightly, if only because he finds it rather pathetic just how poor his body-control becomes around you, ashamed at his inability to stop himself from responding so carnally, so perversely.)

He’ll often lean down and press his face against the pretty hair covering your cunt, nose-deep into it as he inhales, pants growing tight embarrassingly fast because oh fuck, he’s practically Pavolv’d himself into orgasming the moment he smells you, arousal blooming through him even though he hasn’t touched himself even the slightest.

And he’s not shy to tell you that you smell good, either – he’s always praising you in bed, but he’ll murmur to you that you smell divine, the compliment sounding throatly and groaned, and he’ll always finish it off by pressing soft, adoring kisses around the junctures of your thighs and pelvis, making sure every inch of space has been touched by his lips.

(And he gets very, very into it, too – he’s groaning lightly against your skin, letting his lips linger, letting his tongue come out to rub at the skin of your inner thigh, sucking slightly and letting go with a wet plop sound that makes your face feel hot and your stomach twist. It’s often at this point that he’ll wind up unconsciously very slowly grinding against whatever object is available, often the blankets you’re resting on and even sometimes your leg when he’s feeling especially needy, often when he’s returned from a prolonged mission. On those rare occasions, you may even feel something wet and very, very warm seep against your leg, hot cum already staining your skin and only serving as an omen for what Gyomei wants to do to you.)

He’ll trail kisses up to your clit, little kitten licks while he listens and gauges your reactions, trying to discover if you’re more in the mood for circles, figure eights, stripes, or – when a strange, unusual bout of possessiveness surges through him – the kanji for his own name.

(He’ll always grip onto you harder when he does this, still trying to be mindful of his strength, but with enough force to leave you completely immobile, utterly subject to whatever he wants to do to your body – a fact that both frightens him and excites some small, carnal part of him.)

He’ll station a thumb to work the pattern against you, rhythmic and steady, while his tongue darts out to dig between your folds, pressing shallowly into you while you twitch and whine, his thumb insistent against you. He’ll take his time to explore you, leaving no area untouched, and he’ll pull back with a few hearty sucks against your labia, licking his lips as he presses kisses against your stomach.

How would you like to come, my love? He’ll ask between kisses, the emphasis on the word ‘my’ subtle but still there. If you want to come solely from his tongue licking and sucking at you, he’ll be more than happy to – he’ll shift his positioning, laying on his back with you perched on his face, keeping his tongue stationary and instead moving you to the rhythm he knows you like, just so that all you have to do is sit there and take it, leaving your body completely in his control.

He’ll bring you to your high solely through sucking at your clit if you’d prefer, puckering his lips and keeping the pressure up, running his tongue over the sensitive skin and keeping them attached even when you buck up, your hips moving uncontrollably as you near your orgasm.

He’ll do both, if you want, able to multi-task and keep everything exactly as you like it, desperation motivating him because he needs to feel you come for him, to feel the way you muscles clench and spasm around him, to hear your pretty cries and feel your fingers dig against his scalp, pulling and yanking and making him groan lowly at the pain-twinged pleasure.

He just loves to please you really, and he can spend hours between your legs – genuinely, and without a single complaint. He’ll bring you a single orgasm or twenty, whatever you want of him, all you have to do is sweetly ask, to say his name and say please Gyomei, need another one, you feel so good and I want to come for you again all the while you grind against his tongue.

(If you really want to get him going, do all that and grab his free hand, slipping a finger or two into your mouth and sucking yourself, making sure it’s wet and sloppy and full of drool. He’ll pause for a mere second, before swallowing hard and immediately diving into your cunt, motivated because oh god, you never use your mouth on him – his own instigated rule, simply because he’s terrified he’ll choke you and kill you should he lose control and thrust down your throat. But this? Oh, perhaps he does have a penchant for your mouth, too, the oral fixation extending both ways and leaving him dizzy and light headed because even your fucking mouth is perfect, all warm and wet and smooth, making his cock leak so much precum that he idly wonders if he’s undergoing a single long, drawn-out orgasm because of the sheer volume.)

And Gyomei will be eager for the entire time he’s between your legs, keen to take you in any position – you laying down, from the back, you sitting on his face, anything that feels right – in any setting. He just loves the way you taste – how it’s so earthy, heavy against his tongue, natural in a way that makes him desperate for more, finding himself craving the taste at the most inopportune of times.

 (Thank god for the looseness of the uniform pants – you can notice the tent in them, of course, with just how often he’s sporting an erection in your presence, but this way his fellow slayers won’t notice – which is good, because as your sexual relationship progresses, it’s a near daily basis that a passing thought of your taste hits him, literally making him salivate and having to leave the room briefly.)

He just really, really likes using his mouth on you, and he won’t hesitate to offer himself up at even the slightest change of you wanting it. Even the slightest chance.

Praise

He’s not terribly vocal in bed, but when he speaks he makes it count.

His natural sounds during sex are much more controlled – he’s always letting out these long, shaky exhales, his lips parted slightly and his eyebrows drawing tight because fuck you feel good. He’ll groan your name and often hiss lightly through his teeth, soft little ah-ah sounds falling from his lips when you’re sucking on him just right and riding him with the rhythm and angle he likes best.

And yet, he was very, very quiet at the beginning of your sexual relationship – only breathing heavily and giving you a slurred, rushed I’m coming right before so much cum is stuffed up into your cunt that you’re literally leaking around his still-hard cock inside of you. He was quiet mostly because he didn’t want to turn you off by letting out some of the more intense noises, groans that start low but turn into this higher, whinier sound, or chants and mantras of your name like a prayer when he’s gently rolling his hips into you, every muscle in his body clenching in an effort to restrain himself and not absolutely pound into you like he so desperately wants to.

He didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, but as he grows more familiar with your body and your sexual preferences, Gyomei finds that complimenting you seems to fall naturally off his tongue.

He already thinks of you as perfection in human form, idolizing you to such a degree that he knows it’s unhealthy but he can’t find it in himself to stop. He’s never seen your face, of course, but he’s sure that  you’re beautiful, fingers having groped and traced out every feature of your face, every slope and curve of your body (even the inside of your body, too, of course) more times than he can count.

And before he knows it, all sorts of praises are filling the wet, thick air between you as he fucks into you – his voice is still low and timbered, the vibrations making shivers shoot up your spine and your nipples harden up, his strained praise of you take me so well, love only serving to get you going faster, grinding and scooping your hips more aggressively and feeling the way he sucks in a sharp breath and tenses up underneath you.

A lot of his praises focus largely on your performance during sex – always complimenting you for the way you feel, telling you that you feel like heaven and that you’re perfect and that you’re everything I’ve been dreaming of quietly under his breath the first time he carefully, almost fearfully cups your tits in his hands, squeezing gently and waiting pointedly for your response, forcing himself to not cave and squeeze as hard as he can.

He’s complimenting parts of your body, too – telling you that your skin is so soft, that your lips taste so good, that your ass is so warm and perfect to grip onto while you’re riding him. Of course, not in such vulgar terms – he only gets crude when he’s right on the brink of orgasming, some of his more lewd, risque thoughts coming to life because fuck fuck fuck it’s like you’re milking him for everything he’s worth, cunt sucking him in so tightly that he thinks he might die and oh god oh god oh god –

Even then, it’s still nothing terrible, but he’ll switch out some of the sweeter terms for cruder ones, calling it a cunt rather than your warmth or something equally virginal, really.

(Which makes sense, considering that it’s extremely obvious the first time that you touch him that he is in fact a virgin, his startled little gasps at every touch even against his torso leaving some sort of power trip rushing straight to your head because while he’s this hulking, huge, powerful man, you have him crumbling with a simple brush of your index finger, every muscle in his body flexing so hard it nearly hurts when you lick at his tip for the first time.)

Instead of asking you with a rather polite please go faster, angel when he needs you to bounce on him at a quicker pace, he’s throwing his head back a bit, Adam’s apple bobbing as he clutches onto you, losing his composure and telling you that you feel so – so good, oh keep going, don’t stop, you’re making me so close to coming – please tell me I can finish inside of you…

Which brings up another major aspect of his praise kink – Gyomei always seems to be asking for permission, even borderline begging at times. It doesn’t read as begging often, though, simply because he's still the one in control most of the time, even if you’re on top or dictating the pace. But he’ll always slip in a please, or bite his lip and wait for you to give him permission, managing to stave off his orgasm long enough to hear you moan out a yes, please come inside me, and suddenly he’s calling you beautiful and clutching onto you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, cum spraying into you and leaving you squirming because you can feel just how hot it is and just how much there is.

During his orgasms he’s particularly vocal, not to an exaggerated degree but always babbling in that deep, groaning voice that gets high at the very end about how you’re perfect, how you take him so well, how you’re made for him, how he loves you he loves you he loves you he loves you –

He genuinely finds you to be perfect, and every sexual encounter with him will leave you uncomfortably aware that he feels this way. He’s always complimenting you, and due to his lack of vision, the compliments are often extremely specific and leave you more puzzled than flattered.

He’s telling you that you’re the perfect size for him (this is often size closer to his orgasm, when he’s marveling and unable to fathom just how fucking tight you are around him), that you smell like how he’s always imagined (followed with a loud, audible sniff that’s trailed off with a moan, his voice higher than normal), that you’re so soft and squishy (this is always punctuated by particularly hard thrusts if he’s fucking you, and he’ll bury his face against the warm skin of your neck, hands groping at any fatty, squishy part of your body in a frenzy that’s rather uncharacteristic of him).

He just finds that while he’s normally able to stay composed and can be judicious about just how much he reveals he knows about you when he’s not touching you, the moment your skin comes into contact with his, a bit of his judgements flies out the door, instead focusing on the way you feel, how he’s been dreaming about this moment for months, guiltily wringing his cock dry at the mere prospect of getting to touch your used clothing, of getting to hear you breathing in his ear while he thumbs at his tip and lightly squeezes his balls.

You’re just so, so damn good – and in those moments where his admiration and obsession with become dangerously on display, you’ll feel equal parts disturbed and flattered, because really isn’t it just so damn pathetic that you’re able to turn such a large, important, strong man into a groaning mess that’s holding onto you for dear life with just a grind of your hips and a few well-timed, sultry phrases in his ear? Pathetic, sure, but also erotic, sexy in a way that scares even you for feeling it.

But Gyomei can’t seem to care, unable to stop himself form laying on the praise thick, not even conscious that he’s doing it – you just affect him that much.

Orgasm Control

But specifically, Gyomei wants you to control his orgasms.

Most of the time, Gyomei assumes a more dominant role in bed. He doesn’t really adhere to the dominant and submissive roles per say, but it’s rather because he holds so much power over you outside of the bedroom that it naturally follows between the sheets. You’re his captive, after all, and while you’ve slowly come around to him, perhaps even returning his feelings in some sort of deranged way, Gyomei is still undeniably the one in charge in your relationship.

So while he’s not shoving your face into the mattress and mounting you like some sort of animal staking his claim on you (though if you begged him hard enough, he might consider maybe doing something along the lines, but significantly toned down and with a constant question of is this alright, my love asked before each and every motion), between his size and his aura you’ll often find at the start of your sexual relationship that you’re following his lead, doing what he wants to do.

And this bothers Gyomei – he doesn’t like the fact that you still feel a shadow of fear for him, obvious in the way that you look to him for guidance and approval during sex, even though you have at least as much experience as him if not more. It makes him uncomfortable and reminds him of the reality of your situation, something he wants to escape from when he’s being intimate with you.

He wants to think of you as wanting to be naked in his arms and kissing him rather than you having talked yourself into it simply because he’s the only human being you regularly have contact with now. And to remedy this, Gyomei does his best to let you dictate the timing of his orgasms. He has impeccable self-restraint and control, and while it’s not necessarily easy, he’s pretty adept at holding off his orgasms.

(It’s a lot easier to come on command, of course, simply because all he needs to do is focus on the feel of you under his palms and around his tongue or cock, listening to your heartbeat and the sound of your voice and he’s already halfway there, only needing a single, final push to get him groaning and letting go.)

And while he doesn’t explicitly say it at the start, you’ll notice pretty quickly that he only lets himself go when you beg him to, only warning you with a clipped I’m close to coming as a prompt for you to tell him to either hold it in or release.

You’ll soon figure it out, and Gyomei absolutely loves the power structure that forms when you finally understand what he’s trying to do. There’s something thrilling about letting go of his control and handing it totally over to you. No longer does he have to be the strongest, wisest, or most senior – no, now he can just be Gyomei, just be your lover, the man unequivocally whipped and subject to your beck and call.

It’s freeing, almost, and he looks forward to seeing what mood you’ll be in each time your clothing gets peeled off. He’s not sure which mood he likes most – there’s something arousing about the way that you tease him, denying him his orgasm over and over and over, leaving him pent up but still attentive to your words, following your instructions and holding himself back, even when you’re doing things you know drive him crazy.

(Like bouncing on him just right, the feeling of your ass clapping against his thighs making his mouth feel dry. Or when he’s hovering over you, fucking into you slowly and deeply, and you go and wrap a leg around him, drawing him closer, begging him to finish inside but stopping him just moments before his release, telling him nuh-uh, not yet, you only get to come inside me when you’ve earned it. Or one of the rare times you’ve convinced him to let you take him in your mouth, teasing him with tracing his tip over your lips and collarbone, alternating between suckling at his tip and pushing your breasts together to rub up and down his length, narrating to him the whole time exactly what you’re doing. They all make his face go slightly red, his fists clenching up and the muscles in his arms bulging, veins standing out and leaving you to drool slightly, entranced that this behemoth of a man is listening to your words like gospel, forcing himself to be good and do exactly as you say. Even if you’re not an especially dominant person, there’s still something that’ll get you going about that, some sort of power trip that leaves you feeling light headed in the best possible way.)

The edging only serves to make his orgasm stronger, to make everything feel more intense, his eventual orgasm ending up being way more powerful, arcs of cum shooting from his swollen, red tip with such intensity that it feels almost painful against your skin.

(And he’ll finish wherever you tell him to, too – his preference is always inside of you simply because it feels the most intimate and it satisfies some small possessive side of him, but Gyomei will do whatever you want – you want him to finish on your chest? He’s painting your tits in white, droplets dripping from your nipples and drying in thick smears against your skin. Grab his hand and let his fingers feel over the mess he's made and he’ll lowly gasp, a smaller, less impressive spurt landing freshly on your chest, the feeling of his cum on you enough to get the last, sad little bit out. He’ll finish on your back, your ass, your stomach, your thighs, anything you want – just say the word and he’ll do it, eager to please you and make you enjoy your time with him, even if it means leaving his seed somewhere other than where it really belongs – inside you.)

But of course, Gyomei also loves the other side of you dictating his orgasms – that is, similarly to his ability to hold himself off, his refractory period is short. If you were to take advantage of that, you'll see him at the closest to pussydrunk you’ll ever get – make him come in quick succession, your hand steady and quick as you jerk him off, and you’ll see how the first orgasm is the familiar heavy load, the second is slightly reduced, the third even more so, and by the fifth orgasm he’s shooting blanks, abs clenching and unclenching so quickly that you almost feel bad for him, but the sounds he’s letting out are filthy. His normally low and masculine voice rises with each one, until he’s letting out something that isn’t quite a whimper but isn’t not one, either.

He loves the way you bleed him dry, your voice soothing and alluring even as you push him to the edge of his comfort zone, tears pooling in his eyes as you tell him to keep going Gyomei, I know you can give me another one, please give me another one paired with a wet, needy kiss to his lips.

You unlock all sorts of kinks and sides to him that he wasn’t aware even existed, and he’ll let you play with him as much as you please, eagerly setting down onto your shared bed, spreading his legs and helping guide you to your place in his lap, already rock hard below you.

He’s too big and powerful to be called pathetic, but he sure toes the line when you’re touching him, when you’re driving him absolutely insane.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Size Kink

Though, only in very specific circumstances. By and large, Gyomei is painfully aware of just how extreme the size difference between the two of you is – and regardless of your height or weight, you are smaller than him. Small enough to make him worry constantly about accidentally hurting you, terrified that he’ll somehow crush you or bruise you or simply be too much for you. It’s his number one concern when doing anything sexual with you, worrying that even a single finger slipping into your cunt will make you squirm with more than just pleasure.

But by the same token, there’s something so inexplicably right about just how much bigger he is than you. It’s shameful, he thinks, and it makes him feel like some sort of freak for being attracted to the size difference, but it makes him feel stronger, more masculine, feeling like a true protector and provider for you because he can encompass your whole body simply by hovering over you.

And he’s reminded of it at every turn – his hand against your waist covers half the area, the skin soft and plush and warm underneath him, but he can feel the curve of your hip, the expanse of his hand just that much on your body. He can feel the way your fingers struggle to fully grab around his cock, fingertips barely touching even as you squeeze him tightly, and while it seems to frustrate you, Gyomei can only headily swallow, cock twitching in your hands because god, there’s no way that will fit inside of you, will it?

And yet as he swallows, oh so slowly eases you down as you straddle him, going slow and giving you ample breaks to adjust to his size, there’s something about the way he can feel you tremble, your cunt stretching to accommodate him that makes him fist at the sheets, struggling to maintain his composure.

(The warmth and wetness of your walls certainly don’t help his predicament, absolutely soaked and sensitive from the some three orgasms he’d already pulled from you in preparation.)

He’s cautious and terrified that he’ll hurt you, of course, and his concern for you weighs out over any sort of sexual pleasure he gets from the size difference, but it’s still present at the back of his mind, toying with him and begging him to just shove himself inside of you, to take a quick, harsh pace like his body is dying to, to use you as some sort of living cocksleeve for him to fuck into and fill up. He won’t ever do that, of course, but it’s one of the main motivations behind his deep, far-reaching thrusts, enjoying the way you gasp and claw at him when he’s nudged up right against your cervix, pressing and filling you to the point of you almost feeling that you’re being split in half.

He preps you well enough that you’re always able to just barely take him, too worried that he’ll hurt you otherwise, but he still can’t deny the allure of just how different your bodies are.

(And this extends beyond the bedroom, too – he loves the way you fit against his side when you cuddle against him, or how he has to lean down for you to press kisses against his face - something he absolutely adores and very does not mind leaning over for.)

It’s just sweet in his opinion, and while it gets blood rushing south more easily than he’d care to imagine, it ultimately only serves as another reminder that he needs to keep you safe and protected, that you’re too weak to survive in the real world without his aid.

(And, of course, some selfish part of him is satisfied with the knowledge that now that you’ve had him, you’d never be satisfied with another man’s cock, never able to feel the level of stretch and fullness that he can give you. Not that he’d allow you the opportunity to try with another man – he’s not terribly possessive, but the thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, is enough to get his nostrils flaring, rage simmering through him because he absolutely does not want anyone else getting even remotely close to you in that capacity.)

Thigh Riding

Gyomei lives to please you in bed. Every sexual encounter with him sees your pleasure as the absolute priority – he’ll have pulled some three orgasms from you before he even thinks about reaching one himself, before he even really pays attention to the fact that he’s so hard he’s soaked the front of his pants through.

And he’s not picky about how to get you there – namely, Gyomei doesn’t mind being quite literally used for your pleasure, his every limb and feature available for your use. He’ll let you do whatever you want to him; bending him into all sorts of positions, giving him directions for how to finger your pretty cunt, laying down and letting you grind and hump at his face like he’s a mere pillow.

He loves to be of service to you, and he finds that the best sex is where he’s nothing more than a toy for you, at least at the beginning – hence, Gyomei grows to absolutely love having you ride his thigh. He’s huge, a hulking man with muscles so thick and defined that you’ll quite literally be drooling the first time you see them, sucking in a sharp breath when you touch him for the first time.

(And he’ll feel a mixture of pride and bashfulness grow inside him when he hears your little gasp – he’s overjoyed that you seem to like what you’re seeing and feeling, some small, anxious part of him having been terrified that you’d be repulsed by his size and the scars littering his body, that you’d find him to be too muscular, too intimidating. And you can tell, too, because the way that he visibly becomes harder afterward the gasp is a clear indication that you’re doing something to him, your mere presence and breathing getting him hard as a rock.)

He likes the physicality of the act – he keeps you steady on his thigh, the muscle large enough for you to straddle, and the feeling of your hands gripping onto his chest for support makes him oddly giddy.

 The first time it happens, Gyomei honestly isn’t sure what you’re trying to do - when you straddle his thigh rather than his waist, his lips part slightly, confusion evident across his features. But as your hips start moving, your exposed, wet cunt sliding against the toned, broad expanse of his thigh again and again, he’s suddenly grasping onto our hips, helping guide you up and down the length of his thigh, occasionally tensing his muscles in order to hear you gasp and cry out his name.

He wants to do everything he can to service you, to help you reach that wonderful high, and the only thing that’s rolling through his mind at that moment is how perfect you feel, the way his name slips from your lips as your body shakes in pleasure, how he can feel the pulses and clenches of your cunt even as you pick up the pace.

And when he snakes a hand down to thumb against your clit, he nearly comes from the sound that escapes you - it’s so wanton, so lewd and dirty but so fucking hot, and suddenly all he can think of is the repeated phrase of make her come, make her come, a mixture of desperation and determination leaving him frantically rubbing at your clit.

Gyomei will offer his thigh to you whenever you feel like riding it, and once you’ve finished, your body exhausted and laying down next to him, he’ll sneakily rub along the area where your slick has rubbed off onto his thigh, bringing his fingers up for a taste and groaning as your flavor coats his tongue, free hand reaching down to palm at himself, squeezing at his balls and shuddering. Gyomei can and will do anything to make you feel good in the bedroom, and he’ll never turn down the opportunity to see you fall apart on his thighs. 

(And if he’s feeling particularly needy or knows he’s leaving for a long mission away from you, he won’t bother to wash off his legs afterwards – he'll let your slick dry against his skin, wearing it like a sort of badge of honor, feeling connected to you as he slaughters demons even while you’re miles and miles away from him. It’s dirty, sinful, even, but it’s enough to keep him satisfied, to let him bear to be away from you while he does his duty. And yes, he’s running his fingers along the area occasionally and sniffing, his knees getting ever so slightly weak because the smell has the taste of you flooding his mouth, the sound of your moans ringing in his ears, even phantom touches of yours erupting all over his body.)

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Gyomei prioritizes your pleasure in the bedroom. He’s not a particularly sexual man, and so he views intimacy as being all about making sure that you enjoy it to the fullest extent possible – in many ways, he sees himself as merely a tool for you to use to reach your high.

(And if he happens to orgasm – which he always does when it’s you touching him – then great, but it’s not a necessity.)

And this is largely true – he really does want you to enjoy fucking him, and he’ll go to extremes just to make sure everything is as perfect as possible.

But Gyomei is only human, and as such he harbors a few fantasies that are entirely selfish, entirely about him – one of which develops by complete accident. He’s so terrified to hurt you that he’s constantly looking for ways to satisfy you without using his cock, because although he loves the feeling of your lips, fingers, or cunt wrapped around him (to the point that just thinking about it makes his composure falter ever so slightly, his jaw going a bit slack and his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly), he’s always concerned that it’ll be too big and you could hurt yourself if he fucks you with it.

And so, during the rare times he’d get off before he begins any semblance of a sexual relationship with you, Gyomei’s exploring alternative options.

And while it isn’t necessarily a way to help you get off, per se, he’d been idly gripping himself while thinking one evening, biting his lip and feeling awfully shameful of his actions but unable to bring himself to stop. He’d reached down further, sucking in a sharp breath as he carefully and delicately cupped his balls, idly squeezing and rolling them between his fingers.

But he must’ve been too deeply in thought, distracted by the idea of you, that his hand continued down, reaching and pressing against his skin, until a sudden, odd sensation made him pause, eyes going wide. He’s never even considered anything involving either your ass or his own, but at the single press of his fingers against his hole, the strange, fluttery feeling in his chest makes him feel a bit light-headed.

It’s dirty, taboo, and he hadn’t explored the thought any further that night simply because he was too embarrassed to have found it pleasurable, but it sticks around in the peripheral of his mind. There’s this ever-present question of what if, a sort of far-off fantasy that he toys with every once in a while, when he’s particularly needy and missing the feeling of your skin on his or your attention on him.

And the idea of you taking your time, worshipping his body and guiding him through a new, pleasurable experience makes more than just his cock swell, because there’s something so loving and calming about it, and letting himself be vulnerable in that way is something he hasn’t done for years – something he can’t afford to do, no matter how wonderful it sounds.

Of course he’d never, ever bring up the idea to you for two reasons – it bothers him a bit that you wouldn’t be getting any direct pleasure or stimulation out of it, and he’s too embarrassed to admit that he wants you to touch his ass, afraid that you’ll find him disgusting or flatly reject the idea. He'll keep quiet about it, and if you were to bring it up, you’ll see the way he subtly perks up, body tensing as he swallows, telling you that you don’t have to, I understand that you may not wish to.

But if you’re insistent, and you see the way it affects him, Gyomei will be putty in your hands – you can do anything to his ass, and he’ll take it so well, the only sign that you’re affecting him being the small, barely-there moans leaving his lips, a slight flush across his cheeks, and the copious, copious amounts of precum oozing from his swollen tip.

So really, play around – he’ll never request it, but it’ll only make his feelings for you grow stronger, his desperation and dependence on you growing because only you can make him feel this way.

“Gyomei, I want to try something new tonight.” You start, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. He’s got you straddled in his lap, large hands resting on your hips and his back leaning against the near wall. At your words, he nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Anything you wish, angel.” His voice is low, deep, excited in a way that you can ever so slightly pick up on.

You take a deep breath, leaning up to whisper into his ear as you brace yourself on his chest. “Gyomei, I want to touch you. All of you.”

His hands lightly squeeze at your sides. “You have all of me, you know this. I am all yours, and you can do whatever you please with me.”

You laugh slightly and it makes Gyomei shiver, his grip tightening just enough to make you uncomfortable, but you don’t say anything. “No, I want to touch you where I haven’t before – somewhere new.”

You reach back and grab one of his hands, guiding it to press against your clothed ass, his index fingers landing on the indent between your cheeks.

Gyomei gulps. He’s silent for a moment, mind racing, but the semi-hardness underneath you throbs at your words, and you only smile as he shakily exhales, murmuring an “Are you sure?”

Carefully taking his earlobe between your teeth, you grind down onto him, your thumb finding his nipple over the fabric of his top. Humming, you let go of his skin with a kiss, telling him, “Yes, please… lay on your front for me, please Gyomei.”

Which leads to where you are now, with your big, strong captor laying on his front, arms kept tucked at his sides. This angle makes his muscles stand out, his sculpted back and the definition of his thighs nearly making you drool. And of course, the tan skin of his ass, muscular enough to make you grab handfuls of each cheek and spread them apart to get a good look at him. Coarse black hairs dabble over his skin, and Gyomei finds himself oddly self-conscious as he feels you staring. He’s laying with his head to the side, his breathing still a little quick, and he waits with baited breath for you to do something, to say something, anything.

What he isn’t prepared for, though, is to feel your soft lips press against the sensitive skin of his cheeks, making him jerk ever so slightly and stiffen up under your touch. Your thumb rubs soothing circles against his skin as you kiss a trail down from his tailbone to his thigh, the hardness of his muscles never ceasing as you continue.

“Gyomei,” you whisper against his skin, “relax for me, please. I want to take care of you.”

He hesitates, but forces himself to be less tense, only slightly shifting under the weight of your lips. You smile at that, planting another kiss. “So good f’me.”

That gets something small and uncharacteristically high sounding from low in his throat, but you don’t comment on it.

Your thumb comes down to press softly against his puckered hole, and Gyomei sharply inhales at the sensation, immediately clenching and shaking slightly at the feeling of you increasing the pressure, just idly rubbing circles over it.

The way you retract your hand without warning almost makes Gyomei grunt, confusion and disappointement contorting his face, but then your thumb is returning, something warm and sticky coating your thumn, and suddenly you’re pushing in, further and further until you break past the tight ring of muscle, Gyomei’s breath goes ragged because it feels strange –

It feels good, though, and as you settle in to your first knuckle, his toes curl slightly, the sensation odd but not unpleasant.

“How does it feel, Gyo?” You ask, pressing more kisses along his back and squeezing at his ass. He can’t quite answer, too overwhelmed by the feeling of your thumb inside him. Smiling, you lightly nibble at the skin of his lower back. “Know what I’m using for lube?”

He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to get used to the feeling.

Pressing your thumb just a hair further, you smile at the way he jolts, thigh muscles tensing hard enough to see visible definition. “It’s me, seeing you like this is making me wet enough that I’m using my own slick to prep you…”

That gets Gyomei groaning, the sound muffled by the pillow underneath him, but audible nonetheless. His cock’s painfully hard, pressed up against his stomach, and he can feel the wet pool of precum already staining his skin and the fabric of the sheets below him.

Humming, you press another inch or so in, curling your finger slightly and listening the way his breathing changes, trying to identify what he likes most.

“So pretty, Gyomei,” you start, and his eyes snap open when he hears the familiar sound of your fingers sinking into yourself, the small sigh you make only making him clench around your thumb and his cock throb underneath him.

Your thumb’s all the way in now, and as you slowly, shallowly begin thrusting it, you time it with your own pumps inside. “I’m fucking myself at the same pace as you, that way it’s like we’re together.”

Your voice makes him melt, and as you angle your thumb just right, a gasp tunnels its way through him, ripping him apart and making his hips jerk forward, humping at the sheets below him.

You smile. “There, huh?”

And immediately you’re abusing the spot, pressing tightly against it and rubbing it in a hithering motion, Gyomei’s hips twitching wildly at the feeling. He’s chanting your name under his breath as the pleasure begins mounting, eyes shut again and eyebrows drawn tight.

He’s embarrassed, truly, because even something as small as your thumb has him falling apart like this, desperation lacing his movements because this is building up to be a different feeling from his normal orgasms, something entirely different that makes his whole body tense up and stutter, a muffled groan sound, “It-It’s coming – “

And suddenly cum is caked along his front, your eyes watching transfixed as the visible portion of his balls clench and spasm wildly, his ass flexing and the tightness nearly forcing your thumb out. Instead, you keep pressing against his prostate, watching the way he clutches onto the fabric below him, grip so strong that the fabric rips under him, his strength uncontrollable as his orgasm rocks him.

It’s easily a twenty second affair, cum pouring out of him and visibly seeping into the fabric surrounding him, making you lick your lips because oh, isn’t this precious? Your big, sweet, strong Gyomei falling apart with your thumb up his ass, something like whimpers falling from his lips because you’re still rubbing inside him, reaching deeper with every curl and leaving his back to tense up, shoulder blades visible as he fights off the acute feeling overstimulation.

You only press a kiss to the back of his head, pausing your movements for a single moment as you murmur his name in his ear, telling him with a near purr, “You’ll give me another one, right? I know you can do it, my pretty boy.”

And the way he shudders, hand snapping out to grab onto your thigh as he nods tells you enough, as does his muffled, choked “y-yes”.

[lxdymoon0357]

Hello! I don't know if you are still taking requests, but can I request yandere (if you write) Leilin Shan Candmione with male! Reader who is her personal bodyguard and her childhood friend. And if you could, can you write yandere platonic!Xavi who see Male! reader as a brother or a father figure and the only one in his opinion who deserves Leilin.

If there is something uncomfortable for you, I am apologizing. And I don't want to pressure you, you are free to ignore my request.!!!

Have a good day/night 💗

(Warnings: financial blackmail, abuse, non-con relationship, sexism against men, financial abuse, buying slaves (Xavier), SA accusations, SA. TW: this one was pretty triggering, read at your own risk. Yandere content. And this was written mostly from a pov of the fact that she isn't a morally good character or even interesting or compelling. Sorry. Male!reader. This is not AT ALL romanticization of any of the toxic behavior I write. Be careful, get help and stand up against such people in your lives. I don't support this, none of my thoughts. Kinda short)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

Yan!Leilin Shan Candomione with a Male!bodyguard!Reader HCs + Platonic!Yan!Xavi

❒ You were her childhood friend, maybe friend because your parent was hr tutor in something. But maybe her tendencies fostered because you got close to Iris Von Conrad, some small viscount's girl. That stupid, lowly girl always tried to challenge Leilin's authority!

❒ And you're probably her bodyguard because she begged her father to hire you and specifically you. I also imagine you were likely Iris' bodyguard and you couldn't do anything as you were forced to become Leilin's bodyguard and protect her all while hurting form betrayal you gave Iris despite you not having a choice.

❒ Leilin very obviously tries to buy your affection. For her, money is everything and it can get you everything, it is ultimate power and really, she has no worries for public humiliation and slapping you if you're not up to her standards, be it infront of others or in private.She likes to be sen with a perfect darling, she could even ruin you if you meant you would depend on her!

❒ To her, every kiss and every hug, every form of affection should be utmost genuine. She's the only, sole daughter of branch of the empire's wealth. Richer than the emperor himself and she's bold, pretty and everything you could want as a man. She doesn't accept love if not genuine in her ways. Boys are dying t her feet to pick them, who are you deny her?! Some lowly knight and just some boy!

❒ She would love to recreate old childhood memories and moments. From getting same treats to dancing together and in a delusional way do activities which would have been fine back then but now definitely count as harassment as you're both adults..like she might even insist on you bathing her because she just might think it's a way to get you closer to her. She'd like to see if she could turn you on, tease you..She loves to see you be uncomfy! To her, you're just shy.

❒ She'll have you care for Xavier and train him too, mostly as a way to keep you around even more and tie you down to her since she knows Xavier would get attached to you after he's already attached to her and she only feds his tendencies when she meets with Xavier.

❒ Xavier would use emotional blackmail, using his past and even ideals to keep you with him. You're almost his dad or even brother and no one else in his opinions fits Leilin more than you. You're kind, honest, you're her childhood friend

❒ Xavier is always using his past to keep you around as I just said. But sadly, the poor thing doesn't even realize he's doing it. He thinks he has to do anything to keep you beside him. Be it using his past, his talents, his childlike stature and face to keep you connected to him as if he was your son or brother. And what type of man would abandon those he's close to?

❒ She threatens to cut down on you payment and abandoning you with a bad record in a way, no other noble families would hire you if you were to be removed from the top noble Candmione family of the entire empire. It would be hell for you to even be able to secure and make a living.

❒ There is no fear in her, even if she were to force her presence. People would start to stray away from you if she were to demand in, in almost ways. Rumors do cause problems and she could feed into thm if it meant keeping her darling boy around!~ Come on! I mean, who'd wanna be near a guy who is rumored to abandoned his sick family, his possible wife or his children just to get more money! I mean, sexism!

❒ And if, by some reason, you do get old enough to speak out. She's easily able to bye lawyers and judged and even accuse you of SA'ing her. Because to her, the world she lives in is sexist. She's a powerful, yes. She's able to get away with bribery. but she's also woman and you're a man. People are more likely to side with her, even if she's somehow proven wrong. And you're morally and societally ostracized.

❒ And by extension of her accusations of you SA'ing her, she just might use it as a leeway to actually forcing you to sleep with her. I imagine, societies like that and sleeping with her would entail her father forcing you to marry her, keeping you tied down to Lielin for likely the rest of your life. She would hate to be away from you, you're everything!

[allfearstofallto]

The way you write yandere childe makes me literally salivate omg <333 would you mind doing any of A, C, D, H, N, O, W, or Z for him? I hope you don’t feel pressured to write all or any if you don’t want to 😭

No pressure at all friend!! I love writing for Childe!! Trust me! I've been waiting for someone to ask for him!!!

TW: Dub/Non-Con, NSFW, Violence against reaader

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Childe always has cold hands. You know this, because his hands are always on you. There isn't a moment where Childe is near you where he's not touching you.

It could be something as simple as interlocking his fingers with yours or going as far to force kisses upon you, ones where it feels like he's trying to swallow you whole with his tongue down your throat.

He says he just can't keep his hands off of you and that truly does seem to be the case. His cold fingers always find a way to snake themselves onto some part of your body. A sign of affection yes, but also a warning.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He took you because he loves you and wants you near, but Childe isn't against matching the energy you give him. He's playful at heart, after all, but even that has it's limits.

Being soft towards you is his original goal, he wants to pamper you and adore you while you're less than a few feet away. But shoot him glares or fight him off? He can do the same, the only difference is, he's stronger.

He knows that physical wounds will always heal, but that words last forever, so even when he hurts you, he tells you how much he still loves and cares about you. He's only doing this because you can't seem to stop acting up.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Childe's presence alone is against your will. He knows that, so he makes sure to always be near you. Who would've thought that such an annoying man could actually be a Fatui harbinger?

Around every corner, behind every door, it seems like he's even in every room. Childe is always there, even when you don't want him to be. He does many things that you hate, kissing you, hugging you, forcing his affection onto you whenever he pleases, but the worst thing he does is be there.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It was just a smile. That's what you told him, but that's what he refused to believe.

You smiled at the man with the funny hat. One of Childe's coworkers if you remember correctly. That man shot you a glare and out of pure nerves you smiled back, causing him to look away with his arms crossed. A harmless interaction to you, but one that left your husband fuming.

You were called lots of things that night, slut, bitch, whore. You never smile at him, he'd yell as he fucked you with your face forced against the snowy ground. Your weren't even given the courtesy of a warm bed not when Childe was angry.

You begged him to at least take you indoors. The snow was burning your skin and worst of all, you were embarrassed that someone would see you, but he just scoffed and left another stinging slap on your already sore ass. A whore like you wants to be seen.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishments from Childe can either be the most painful thing you've ever experienced, or a joke made to embarrass you. It honestly just depends on what you did and most importantly, how he's feeling.

You've gotten some of the normal ones. Things like spankings and even a version of “time out” where he made you sit in a corner and think on what you did. But you've also been starved for a week with nothing, but water. Sitting at the dinner table, you'd watch him eat his meal, savoring every bite, while your stomach aches from the hunger pains. You could beg, but Childe typically stood true to his words.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As many as he deems necessary. There are the obvious ones, like not being allowed to leave without his permission, eating your meals with him, sharing your bed with him, things that from the outside looking in seem normal, but are actually just ways for him to have more control over you.

But there are other things he does, things that are a bit more strange. He doesn't like the idea of you even gazing at another man, so all the staff are female. You're dressed to appeal to him, so you wear what he wants you to. Usually things that are revealing in nature, showing off your thighs, chest, and midriff.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

The simple answer is yes. And without hesitance too. Childe is strong. Stronger than he looks and much stronger than his carefree attitude would lead most to believe. Despite his strength, he isn't scared or worried about hurting you.

Be careful of how hard you fight, because he fights back harder. He won't hit you back because he wants to, but because he has to. He has to show you that you can't always get your way, that you can't just expect him to treat you with kindness, when you're not doing the same to him.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally, but it does happen. After trying and failing so many times, after hurting you so much, losing yourself day after day, the light in your eyes is finally gone.

It's one of the only things he regrets. He still has you there, but you're hollow on the inside. One day you're there, the next you're just gone. He does everything in his power to completely bring you back, but he's met with dry, whispery responses from you. He knows that you're truly gone when he tempts you with an easy escape, an open door that you could walk out of with no hassle. He left, giving you the opportunity to just waltz out without him to stop you. But when he comes back, you're still there. And that door is still wide open.

[gremlingottoosilly]

very surprised that the lovefool AU didn't have König spanking the reader while making her count every hit in German, starting over everytime she messes up 😵‍💫

GERMAN LESSONS

Your kidnapper decided to refresh your knowledge of German numbers. Unfortunately for you, Konig doesn't appreciate failure. TW and tags: Spanking, non-con, kidnapping, power imbalance, controlling yandere Konig, size difference, fingering

You messed up. 

At this point, you’re not even sure what set König – your kidnapper, as you learned to never forget – off. It might have been some slightly bratty comment, maybe your smile wasn’t cute and girlfriendly enough, maybe you were sleeping a bit too tight and refused to give him hug as he always made you do. It’s hard to predict him, with his mood swings going from almost being a loving boyfriend with an affinity for making you warm and nice for him up to a torturer who wants nothing but to punish your holes as harshly as possible. 

You messed up, and you don’t even remember how – perhaps, this is what made your punishment even worse. König has a desire to make you answer to his every whim, and when you’re as much as resisting even one small thing…

— Fucking brat. I was too soft on you, ja? 

He drags you to his lap, but it’s far from his regular affection. You could have expected kisses, maybe something else soft and pretty, maybe his hands hugging you firmly – but he drops you on his thighs like a dead weight, harsh hand pressing between your shoulder blades to make you lat flat. Ass up in the air, little clothes you had – only his shirt, of course, König fucking hated seeing his little captive girlfriend in actual clothes and not another of his sexual fantasies. 

You sob, you whimper, and you’re trembling because this is the first time he is like this. Violent and cruel in the bedroom – yes, he was kinda beating you up in his basement, but you thought that he wouldn’t drag this to your shared bed. You hoped that the worst punishment you could take is his dick up your ass or a very violent mouth fucking – not this. You hoped for a punishment to be sex, not pain. 

Not his huge hands striking you across your ass like you’re a bratty kid in need of a lesson. 

— I thought you could be a proper girl for me, Schatz. I trusted you. 

You’d say he sounds hurt, but you can recognize the sadistic gleam in his voice. König doesn’t even bother with preparing your skin first, he strikes as hard as he can – and you cry every freaking time because, oh god, it feels horrible, and you’re going to be sick, and you don’t know what to do except for crying your eyes out with every harsh slap across the plush flesh of your ass. Your skin jiggles with every strike, and his cruel laugh almost feels as painful as his hands. 

— I’m sorry! Pl…please, don’t…god…

You whimper, crying, just a dumb girl for big bad König, who has all the power over you now. Giant hands enveloping your asscheeks only to strike harder, to land blows equally on both sides of your ass. There is nothing sexy about it – you only feel a burning sensation and sweet numbness every time they hit lands somewhere new, not tearing already exhausted flesh with new pain. 

It’s like your bottom has been set on fire – he is preparing you for something far worse, you know, not even counting each strike. 

He drags his hand all across the redness of your ass, making you whimper from pain. He chuckles, knowing just how utterly pathetic you look right now – poor girl, can barely even think about getting your mind in place as you can’t even try to think about his hands doing all of this. You want him to fucking stop touching you, but you know that the chances are slim. Non-existing even. 

— Now, Schatz, it wasn’t that bad. Just a preparation. 

If that was a preparation, you don’t want to know what a real one will feel like. You whimper, trying to get up from his lap – maybe, if you cry loud and long enough, he will think about stopping hurting you. Maybe, if you’re pathetic enough, you’ll have the chance for mercy. Maybe, if you’re able to distract him from hurting you, he will think of other options for your body. 

Your hands are trying to reach his crotch – you don’t want to fuck him, but his dick is a far better punishment than his hands. You feel dirty when your hands are trying to hold onto his pants, taking them off as if you’re nothing but a depraved slut in need of a good pounding. Each ounce of dignity gets washed away as your hands softly palm his erection through his pants. Bastard is hard – you knew he was getting off from your pain, but being reminded of this so explicitly…

Only but he is striking you again, harsh palm against already swollen flesh. You yelp. You squirm. You cry. 

Of course, he doesn’t really care. 

— Being a slut won’t help you, dumb thing. 

You sob, hands retracting back to being awkwardly placed in front of your face. Your position on his lap makes your cheeks burn – both of them, which is even more embarrassing. At this point, you aren’t even sure if you’d prefer him cutting your limbs off. Maybe it would at least feel less humiliating. 

— I’m s…sorry, König, I…

He places a hand on your ass again. Softer this time, if only for a bit – your skin still stings as he continues to stroke your aching skin in a feeble attempt at reassuring. His hands are burning, and you don’t want to be touched like this, but even the slight human interaction is probably the only thing that will keep you sane right now. It might be pathetic, but just like a cat, you are crawling to meet the hand that has the power to softly cradle you. Like a domestic pet König made you to be, you hide your claws and present your rear to his touches. Maybe, he had enough. Maybe, this is over. 

His hard-on pressing in your tummy tells you another story. 

— Let’s do it this way, Schatzi. 

His other hand goes to dig in your hair, holding your head high enough to make sure you’re listening. You whimper from pain pulsating in your scalp but don’t make a sound – terrified of making this moment of kindness short-lived. 

— W-what? 

You give him the answer because you’re a good pet, a trained one, because your captor expects nothing but perfect obedience, and you would do anything to make the pain stop. Too bad that your “anything” isn’t even nearly enough. 

— Let’s teach you how to count, ja? 

He tried teaching you German, bit by bit. Dragged you a bunch of kid's books, the simplest expression took you days to learn because every mistake would mean an even rougher round of fucking, and every perfectly pronounced word would mean yet another round of “lovemaking” – soon, you learned to stagger your progress perfectly, being the most mediocre captive student this country has ever saw. You might be dumb, but…ah, no, judging by König’s standards, that’s it. 

You lick your lips, preparing for the worst. He is rubbing your ass softly, gently, but his touches aren’t bringing you relaxation – you can only wait for his to continue, to make you suffer more like he didn’t kiss you like a lover just a few days before, softly cradling your head on his chest and promising to bring you very nice cake if you’d continue to be a good girl and warm his dick with your pussy. 

— For every strike, I expect you to count. If you mess up, we will start over. 

— H…how many times? 

— Let’s start with ten, ja? You don’t look too strong right now, Katzen. 

You never looked strong, this is the sole reason why you’re even here. Not a proper soldier, not actually a fighter, just a fucking domestic girlfriend for a bastard like König, who has nothing but his ego and a rank that made you sick from how much power he had – people like him shouldn’t be in charge, even if he is a merc and not an actual commander. Even if he is nothing but a bloodthirsty hound, he still has way too much power over little ol’ you. 

You nod, but that’s not good enough. You grunt in acknowledgment, but it doesn’t satisfy him either. 

— I…I understand. Sir. 

— What are we saying to be polite, Katzen? 

— Please? S…spank me. Bitte. I promise I will count. 

You can feel his fingers twitching, trembling. He doesn’t like this little game either, it probably feels too artificial and awkward – you’d rather just be beat up by him, but alas, if he needs to take off some steam at the expense of your body…you aren’t exactly fine with that, but it’s not like you really have an opinion on the matter. At least it’s not needles and knives in your sensitive places – just his hands and your sore bottom. 

Then he strikes. 

First time, it felt like the worst pain in the world. Your ass, already sore and bruised, was heated up again – you cut down your scream because you know that he doesn’t want anything but counting. Nothing but your obedience, your pain, you might not want to be a spectacle for someone like König, but you don’t have even an illusion of choice here. You yelp, the only thing you allow yourself to do. 

You start counting. 

— E..ein. 

— Good girl. 

His fingers suddenly slip down to find your pussy, already wet and fucking messy for him. You can’t help it, it felt too wrong and too right at the same time – his hands on your body, his voice praising you like he didn’t just [unished you for as much as fucking existing. You whine, your body trembling with fear as he launches at you again – another harsh smack forcing you to remember all the numbers like your life depended on it. In some way, it really did. 

You lick your lips, biting into soft flesh to suppress your little cries. You can be stronger than this, you need to be stronger than this. 

König strikes your ass quickly, second and third time – you are keeping up as much as you can. Sobbing when he drags his hand lower, his fingers landing somewhere between our cheeks. There is still a lot of clean skin to uncover to reveal new pain – you’re sobbing between rounds, only allowing yourself to breathe when he pushes his fingers down your folds and plays with your core. 

It’s somehow worse than normal spanking. The pain was numbing, allowing you to slip into some other dimension. The pleasure is overweening, fucking with your brain like you should be thanking König for being so nice and stroking your clit between the rounds of punishment. 

You moan as he pushes a finger in, quickly forcing another slap on your already swollen ass. You don’t miss counting, but you do feel like your head is going to explode. Mind isn’t working enough to actually produce something meaningful – only pathetic chants of numbers and his name mixed properly. You feel like you’re going to suffocate. 

König appreciates the view – his darling, precious girlfriend, he never knew you could be any more beautiful but here you are, laying on his lap like a good kitten you are. With his hands bruising you, he should have punished you sooner – you have become so bratty lately, forgetting your place and who is wearing pants around here. He should have brought you across his thighs way sooner, maybe turn this into a regular thing and have you moan his name as you’re pathetically sobbing and begging for him to stop. 

He strikes you a few times more, his other hand two knuckle-deep in the wetness of your cunt. Such a slut for your boyfriend, you shouldn’t get off this kind of punishment – but of course, he can’t really blame his precious girl for being this fucking needy. He appreciated moving you from the basement, it’s much easier to be with his girl when you’re not rotting on some old mattress – yet, he feel that you started to get out of line as he allowed you too much over and over again. 

It’s a good thing he will be able to punish you even more. 

— It’s the fifth one, Liebling. Want a break? 

You consider your options, he can see your adorable face scrunching in, not understanding if he is for real or not. You’re pretty, too pretty to be this alone, small, and scared – he can’t help but lift your head again, hearing you groaning from pain as he strains your hair just so he can press his mask against your forehead. Mockery of a kiss, but he doesn’t want to face you right now. 

This whole fucking thing wasn’t comfortable enough for him. If only he could, he would just make you obedient through less awkward ways – but you’re so fucking bratty, it really is impossible. König smiles, pushing two of his fingers deep into your hole, stroking your folds as gently as possible. He is weak – he can’t stay mad at his favorite girl for long, no matter how much he wants to try and stand his ground this time. God, you’re too fucking adorable to resist.

— Please? You’re so cute, he might as well let you get out of your punishment. It’s not like him to be this soft, but he already turned your ass into a bruised mess, and if he comes any further, you might actually start to bleed – oh well, he doesn’t want this. Oh well, you will pay for this later – on your back, ass high in the air. Maybe he will try your ass today, just so he could have a nice and tight hole around him. A good way to make you shut up, for sure. 

You whimper when he is holding you close, soothing you like a desperate kitten – you cling onto him, all the brattiness going out of your body, just like he intended. So, so pretty for him, he doesn’t know what he will do with you later. 

He spanks you one last time just to hear your precious whimpers. 

God, just how much he fucking adores you. 

[chattemagique]

yan!Tendou has his own way of curing your low self-esteem

summary: yan! Tendou fucks you in front of the broken mirror, after hearing you talking bad about your appearance, to show how pretty you are.

author's note: was going thru my notes and damn, I can actually write, so posting this for you guys, a bit (lot) personal self-insert, hope y'all can enjoy too, but it would be much better if you couldn't relate. anyways, peace and love 🫶🏻🕊️💞

pic from ブリテッリ @BRTRmilk_ on Twitter

tw: mentions of self-harm, body dysmorphia, low self-esteem, rejection trauma, self-hatred, non-con, skin carving.

all characters are 18+

minors dni

Life with Tendou Satori was bombastic(side eye, m sorry guys😭), you never knew when he's going to "explode" and affect you. He was as unpredictable as he was on the playground. As it usually happens when people are living together, they start to unintentionally pick up each other's behavioral patterns. You became as explosive and as unpredictable as him. Of course, it can't be denied that three months here, with him, after kidnapping weren't also great for your mental health, which led to the weakening of your psyche.

It's not like you've ever loved or liked yourself. You couldn't even understand why this whole thing happened to you, since you weren't even that pretty, not really wise too. You'd probably consider yourself as one of the last choice. So there were many other more beautiful girls around, why out of all people YOU???Dysmorphia returned to you even during the worst moments, making the whole situation much more horrible.

You were standing in front of a bedroom mirror and couldn't stand the way you looked, you hated yourself not only for your appearance, but also for your past mistakes, your weak personality and character traits that let other people exploit and mock you, and he was another evidence.

"I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT"  

Mirror flying down, glass hitting the floor and the pieces scattered in all directions. You wanted to hurt yourself so bad, you wanted to end these sufferings, you didn't understand why you deserve this, but at the same time this was exactly what a bitch like you deserves.

"(Y/N)!" 

Your red haired kidnapper barged into the room only to find yourself sitting in the corner and crying.

"What happened?" 

"I, -I.." your breathing was deep and fast. 

"I hate the way I look, I wish I was born a pretty girl, I wish I had other mindset, I wish I wasn't different, I wish I could fit in, but I'm not! And everytime I feel good about myself, she's always coming back!" you shouted it loud, while grabbing onto your head.

I wish I wasn't different, I wish I could fit in  

Oh, that hit home to Tendou.

So you think he'd fall for you if you were like everyone else? You think he'd find other girls attractive when you were around? You think if you'd fit in he'd consider yourself as his soulmate?

Well, I guess you had to learn this lesson as he once learned.

"Get up."

"N-no.."

"GET UP."

Quiet cry.

"(y/n), don't make me do things that I don't want to do."

You slowly got up, keeping your hands around your stomach, facing the ground.

"I-I just don't understand... why me..?" you said with soft, tearful voice.

Why are you still asking him this question? 

As if he didn't tell you enough.

He unhurriedly came closer to hug you. Usually it would take longer if not forever for you to hug him back, but this time you just needed that support from no matter who, even if it’s from a man who ruined your life. If you can't give it to yourself, maybe he could.

Abruptly he lifted you up and brought to bed. You could tell where it was going, you just didn't care anymore, because it has already happened many times. And hey, at least he likes you..

He removed soft fabrics from your body and unbelted his pants. Having you in a missionary position, he pulled you by your thighs and harshly entered you. Loud gasp escaped from your mouth.

For foreplay his thrusts were quite rushed and hard, you didn't even get wet enough for his dick.

"S-satori.. ple-ease.."  you whimpered his last name in a bit pesky manner.

"Say that you're beautiful (y/n)," you were just whimpering.

"SAY IT" he repeats it louder than before, suddenly squeezing your nipple as you moan out loud.

"Tendou-u, p-please, stop... it hurts"

He continues to twist your nipple even harder. 

"I AM, I am beautiful" you yell out. 

"That's right," Satori releases your nipple and starts gently massaging the sore area with his palm, without slowing down the pace and strength of thrusting. 

"What else?" looking into your eyes, long, slender fingers tenderly caressing your breast area, periodically making a circle movement around your areola. 

"I am smart"

"Good girl"

"I am sexy" 

"You're right, princess" he increases his pace, grabbing your hips and slightly lifting up your pelvis to hit the spot. You let out a loud moan, trying to stabilize your breath. You feel your orgasm coming and your vaginal muscles slightly pulsating as you finally come on his cock, his pace being as fast as before. 

"I am loved"

Tendou leans down to kiss you. You do not resist. If at least somebody can love you, then it's better than nothing. Your tongues weawe together like snakes during mating season. You can't believe that you don't want to pull away from your kidnapper, all you want is this moment to last forever as your bodies unite in one.

You can feel him gradually increasing his pace, as it becomes harder for you to breathe. He gets it as he pulls away from you and finishes inside you. Picking up from the floor the broken mirror glass to carve into your skin "beautiful" and "mine".

[animeyanderelover]

“I could have easily murdered you without hesitation. But those angelic eyes made me dizzy and weak.” “Tonight we’ll become one.”Tsukinami carla with petite human s/o. I love you, admin! <3

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, isolation, abduction, Stockholm Syndrome, slight Nsfw, blood, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of past non-con, petite s/o, afab s/o

Prompt 121+125

Rough fingetips swept across your tiny form, tracing the numerous scars which had faded with time, a faint reminder of what torture you had been forced to endure in the past. Your memories were blurry whenever you tried to recall what exactly had happened during those difficult days of your life, a flash of searing pain in all of your scars was the only thing you always felt as your body remembered something that your head had long forgotten. These days you didn't try to recall your past as often, busily basking in the presence of the man you had once sworn to despise and loathe for all eternity. What silly promises you had used to scream out only to break them yourself in the end. His deep voice was like music to your ears as you connected a sense of security to it, his golden eyes shone with newfound adoration and softness ever since you had mellowed out and his much bigger frame nowadays often wrapped you up, indulging you in your newly awakened clinginess. You always wanted to be near him, to see, feel and breathe him and Carla couldn't have been more content to see that all of his training had finally paid off.

The silk of your (f/c) clothes hugged your smaller body, the outfit Carla had chosen for you made you look a little bit like a doll but you honestly didn't care. You latched on every tiny affection this man gave you and if dressing you up in pretty clothes he liked pleased him, you'd never even dream about complaining. Your half-opened eyes followed the movement of his fingers, gliding from your hair to your back and to your hips, shortly settling there. You felt slightly bleary, feeling like your body was slowly sinking deeper into the mattress of his private chambers, your head resting on his chest.

"Are you tired, little one?" you heard him murmur against the crown of your head, fingers digging deeper into the flesh of your hips to draw your drowsy attention back to him. You hummed in response, tilting your head so that you could look him into his eyes. The sight in itself was pathetic in it's own strange way as you laid there, terribly putty in his hold as tired eyes blinked at him so innocently and trusting, it almost made Carla want to devour you. You'd become so naive and dependent on him, it was hard at times to not abuse that considering your smaller frame in comparison to his own tall one.

"You have to stay awake for a little longer, I fear."

You barely flinched when you felt his other hand gently wrapping itself around your throat before his fingers slowly started to squeeze the flesh, cutting slowly your ability to breathe properly short. His piercing golden eyes were hypnotizing as you didn't break eye contact with him once even if your facial expressions slowly showed your struggle to breathe in enough oxygen. Still, you didn't dare claw at his hand to remove it from your throat, waiting obediently for him. Carla was aware that he had broken you severely yet he still liked testing you at times just to snuff out any rebellious spark before it could ignite into something more. He eased his grip on your throat until it was nothing more than a cold reminder as his skin absorbed the warmth of you

"Do you remember the day I first found you?"

"I do." you replied gently, memories of your first encounter with the First Blood King flashing before your eyes. It was strange as it felt like it hadn't been that long since then but that was mainly because a large period of time you'd spent with him was this throbbing blur of pain you couldn't and didn't want to remember.

"I could have easily murdered you without hesitation. But those angelic eyes made me dizzy and weak. You know that you should be grateful for my decision back then to spare you, don't you?"

He shifted his position, his hand on your hips pressing you down as he climbed up, his face buried in your neck as you twitched when hot breath fawned over the sensitive skin.

"I am. I am grateful that you decided to have mercy on me and instead took me in, Carla-sama." you whimpered as soon as you felt teeth pressing against your skin, twisting your neck to give him more space. He let out an appreciating hum upon seeing your submissive gesture, canine teeth breaking through the skin on your neck. Your body tensed up as soon as the searing pain hit you, although you did your best to stay still as you listened to the sound of him drinking your blood, a fuzzy feeling inside your chest despite the agony. The closeness between you two made your heart flutter against your chest and nervous giddiness started filling you when you felt the hand that had previously rested on your hips slide down to land on your thigh, pushing it slightly away so that he could push himself in between your legs.

There was a pleasurable sting when he pulled away, gazing over the wound that would surely leave yet another scar on your body. You felt cold fingers wandering under your hem, tracing the soft and warm skin of the insides of your thighs. You felt heat collecting in your cheeks as you suddenly felt a bit shy as your smaller body was lying underneath him, leaving you vulnerable to his want.

"Look at me." he ordered when he saw how you averted your eyes, choosing to look somewhere else. You quickly obeyed when you heard those words, though you yelped quietly when you heard the tear of soft fabric as your nude skin was exposed to the cooler air. You shortly tried to cover yourself only to retreat your hands even faster when Carla gave you a sharp glare, silently forbidding you to hide yourself from his eyes. Golden eyes roamed greedily over your body, skin soft and free to mark and bruise to his liking. Your body tinier in built in comparison to him and he knew that he would have to go a bit easier on you, he considered being a tiny bit more gentle due to your mellow attitude and obedience. Nevertheless, he planned to use this night to it's fullest now that you willingly let him take you instead of crying and screaming and resisting him. It was perfect, now he had nothing to worry about anymore because now you'd accept him just as much as the child he planned to put inside of you.

One of his hands flew down to your stomach, stopping right over your womb, still empty without any child inside. That would change soon though. The image of you swelling up within a few months with child and milk excited him, even though another part of him also worried how your petite built would handle carrying his heir inside of you. That's why he'd be there for you though.

"Tonight we'll become one. And soon you'll carry my son inside of you."

Your gut twisted shortly in horror, a faint memory embedded in your body trying to remind you of something. When you felt Carla's tongue pushing past your labia and the tight opening of your hole, considerate enough to prep you, you quickly forgot about it though, your head spinning with his promise.

A child.

You hoped that they would have his gorgeous golden eyes.

[dixonsdarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Twenty

Main masterlist Series masterlist AO3 link Wattpad link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death, PTSD

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, dixonsdarkelf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Legolas & Lord of the Rings (c) J.R.R. Tolkien, Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, discussion of deceased parent, discussion of deceased sibling, grief

Word count: 3.2k

“Fuck, it’s cold up here,” I said, rubbing my hands up and down my arms in an effort to keep myself warm. I’ll admit, I had made a poor decision by only wearing a sports bra and skort when I knew I was going to be up in the watchtower overnight, but if there was the potential for me to be taken out at any moment, I at least wanted to look cute when it happened.

My hangover from all the drinking the night before had mostly subsided, though there were still some lingering effects. I couldn’t eat or drink anything too quickly without feeling queasy, and my body was still a little sore. My eyes were also still a little photosensitive, so I appreciated the darkness of night a bit extra.

Daryl fell asleep in bed with me, his arm still wrapped around me and my blanket draped over our legs. My head never left his shoulder, and when I awoke, his head was resting on mine, his hair hanging down and tickling my forehead. I wanted to stay in that blissful moment forever, the sound of his soft snoring the only thing that echoed through the room. I didn’t move, as I dared not stir him from his slumber. He did eventually wake though, and I closed my eyes, every ounce of mental fortitude I had being used to keep a big, stupid grin from forming on my face to give the illusion that I was still asleep.

He slipped his arm out from behind me slowly, using his body leaning against me to keep me upright. He got up and picked me up for just a moment before laying me down in bed, gathering my hair and laying it behind me. He pulled my blanket over me and knelt beside the bed. As much as I wanted to see, I didn’t open my eyes. Whatever he was going to do or say, I wanted him to think I was asleep for it. Daryl brought a hand up and started petting my head, his fingers brushing my scalp as he did. That was only for a moment, though, before he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

It was a quick, small peck, which I was somewhat grateful for, as anything longer might’ve broken my mental fortitude. He uttered a soft “night sunshine” before leaving the room, leaving the door open. I was biting my tongue to stop myself from flipping over and screaming into my pillow. My body felt weak, both from the hangover and from this new step in physical affection. I was sure that even if I wanted to flip myself over to scream into my pillow or get up and go downstairs to give Daryl a giant hug, I wouldn’t be able to move.

I fell back asleep after some time and spent a lot of the day in bed, tossing and turning to find the most comfortable position for my aching muscles and pounding head. I climbed out of bed sometime in the middle of the afternoon and forced myself to take a shower. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent between me doing some writing in my bed and on the couch with Daryl, who was still insistent on borderline babying me in my mildly hungover state, until it was time for Daryl’s overnight watch shift.

When we arrived at the watchtower, I found out he was taking over for Glenn, who gave me a subtle smile as he walked past me. I lightly shoulder-checked him and gave him a look in return, both of which meant “don’t you dare say a word to Maggie about this.”

“Here, ya can wear this,” Daryl said. He slipped his crossbow off and set it on the ground, removing his leather jacket. He was only wearing a light tank top underneath.

“You sure? Won’t you get cold? It’s chilly up here,” I said, “I can run home and get a jacket. I don’t want you to be cold.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, holding his jacket out to me, “sure it’ll look better on ya anyway.” I blushed a little at the compliment and took his jacket in my hands. I set my notebook down briefly to slip it on, almost immediately warming up as the worn leather cocooned my frigid skin. It smelled like pine and tobacco, more scents that were quintessentially Daryl. He stared at me as I zipped it up. "Told ya.”

“Hey Daryl? How far of a target do you think you can hit with that thing?” I asked as he picked his bow back up.

“Dunno. Pretty far if I had to guess,” he replied, propping the bow up onto his shoulder and peering through the scope, pretending as if he was preparing to shoot.

“You sound rather confident in that,” I taunted, “do you wanna test that theory?”

He stared out the window to the field outside the walls, seemingly debating whether or not entertaining me was worth wasting an arrow. “‘Bout that one out there?” Daryl said, gesturing to a walker far off in the distance. I leaned out the window a little to look in the direction of the wretched creature. The moonlight peeking through the clouds illuminated them slightly, making them just visible enough to see. Daryl quickly brought a hand to my shoulder as if on instinct, even though I was nowhere near close to falling out the window, and pulled me back in from the window frame.

“I don’t know,” I teased in a sing-song voice, “that’s a pretty far one.”

The sickly-looking thing lumbered around in the open field in search of its next meal, and I wondered if it could see us as it started in our direction, still far enough away that it wasn’t anything to be worried about. Ultimately, Daryl decided it was worth my entertainment. He raised his crossbow to his shoulder, and I admired him for a moment before darting my eyes to the walker as he shot. He hit the thing right in the head, and it went crashing to the ground, not even so much as twitching. I was amazed.

"Ok Legolas, look at you,” I said, sounding very impressed.

He cocked his eyebrow at me. “What?"

"I called you Legolas,” I iterated, “like the elven archer from Lord of the Rings. You ever seen those?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Never got into that fantasy shit."

"Hey now, some of us are into that "fantasy shit." He's my favorite character. Kind of reminds me of you a bit. He's gentle, wise, loyal, and very protective of the people and kingdom he cares about,” I explained, a hint of a giggle under my breath, “but he can be a bit of a show-off and is real quick to get into it with people he doesn't like."

“Psh,” he scoffed, “I ain’t no show-off.”

“Oh please. You’re telling me that shot wasn’t you showing off, even a little?” I teased.

He ignored my question. “What other kinda fantasy shit ya into?”

“Well, when I was a kid, my favorite movie was Sleeping Beauty. You know that one?” He shook his head. “So there’s this girl, her name’s Aurora, and she’s a princess. There’s three good fairies who each give her a gift on the day of her birth. The first two give her beauty and a beautiful singing voice because of course the protag has to be stunning and have the voice of an angel. That’s a Disney movie for ya.” I tapped my thumbs on my notebook. "Anyway, before the third one can gift her, our antagonist Maleficent shows up, and she curses Aurora to die on her 16th birthday by pricking her finger on a spinning wheel. So the third fairy doesn’t get rid of the curse, but she makes it less bad to where she’ll only fall into a deep sleep instead of dying. And the only thing that’ll break the curse and wake the princess is “true love’s kiss.” And of course it has the happy ending of Maleficent being killed and Aurora getting her true love’s kiss, and then she marries the prince and it’s all happily ever after and whatnot.”

“It’s still cute I guess, but it’s such a typical story with a damsel in distress who is only rescued once she’s found her true love, which is just so overdone in my opinion. There’s a song from the movie that I still enjoy though. That’s what I’m always singing in the shower,” I said.

“Ya’s hummin’ it when ya were drunk too,” Daryl said, amusement in his scruffy voice, “all the way ’til ya fell asleep.”

“Of course I was. My brothers used to tease me for how often I watched that movie and sang that song.” A smile emerged on my face as I thought of an idea. "I actually have some pictures of them.” I flipped open to the back of my notebook. I quickly slipped the notes out—the one from Eli and the couple that Daryl left for me—into my pocket. "Do you wanna see?” He nodded, stepping closer as he did so until we were right next to each other, hips nearly touching. Even when there was a small distance between us, I could still feel the same electricity that danced across my skin every time we came in contact. I slipped the photos out and set my notebook on the ground beside me.

I rifled through them, putting them in the order I wanted to present them. “This one is Preston and I. I’m probably like 24 in this picture. It was a few months before he died, when he came to visit me at school.” The picture was a selfie I had taken and printed out. Preston was making a goofy face, and I was sticking my tongue out and smiling, flashing a peace sign. "It was the only picture I took when he was home. If I had known…what would happen later, I would’ve taken a lot more.”

“Ya look real happy,” Daryl acknowledged.

“I was. I was in med school, at my dream school, my big brother was home visiting, I was living with my best friend…things were good.” I flipped over to the next one. “This one is Jay, Eli, and I. Jay’s the one on the left, Eli’s on the right.” This one depicted my twin brothers and I standing posed together, me in the middle, arms wrapped around each other. “I think I’m 28 here. They came to visit, I think for my birthday. I’m not totally sure. They’d visit as much as they could whenever they were home. We were all really close.” Tears started forming in my eyes and threatened to break free, but I didn’t let them.

I switched to the next one. "This one is me and my best friend Kathryn. We were neighbors growing up, and with her being an only child and me being the only girl in my family, we bonded immediately. Got accepted to the same school for med school and grad school, lived together. She was everything to me. When everything went to shit, she was across the country visiting extended family. So if she’s alive, she’s on the west coast somewhere. I think this picture is from right before she left. Looks like a night out or something.” The photo showed Kathryn on my back, her long blonde hair swinging in my face, both of us laughing about something I wish I could remember. We were both all dolled up in cute outfits and full faces of makeup, as we usually did when we would go out on the town.

“Tell me about her,” Daryl said. He took the stack of photos from my hand and studied the one of Kathryn and I. I wondered what was going through his head. "Don’t think ya talked about ‘er too much.”

“Kathryn was such a good person. She was kind, funny, smart, just the friendliest person ever. A golden retriever type if you will. She studied engineering, so she was like really, really smart. And she could pull literally any man she wanted,” I explained, chuckling at a memory that was coming back to me, “we’d go out to bars and whatnot, and she immediately captured the attention of everyone in the room when she walked in. I’d have guys coming up to me asking how to get with her. I played bodyguard a lot. She would try to pass some off onto me, but they wanted the golden retriever, not the black cat.”

A gentle breeze came through, sweeping my hair into my face, and before I could react, Daryl was already moving it out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. “More of a black cat guy m’self,” he said. The obvious flirting had my stomach doing backflips.

I loved it when he moved my hair out of my face, but I especially loved it when he tucked it behind my ear. He would always go a little slower, just a little bit, as he ran his fingers around my ear and secured my hair in place. My stomach would drop like I was on an amusement park ride, and my knees would nearly give out on me. I reveled in every second of it.

“She would’ve adored you too,” I said, watching him run his fingers over the picture, my side specifically, “she would’ve loved how happy you make me.” He still had that stoic look on his face. I wished I could read minds, so I would know exactly what he was thinking. He flipped to the next picture.

“That one was supposed to just be a photo of my parents, but Eli jumped in at the last second to photo-bomb. He looks like he’s 24 or 25, so I’m probably like 21 or so,” I told him. My parents were sat on the patio furniture we had in the backyard, snuggled next to each other and looking into each other’s eyes. Eli was in the background, wrapped in a blanket and flashing a peace sign as he was jumping into frame.

“Ain’t that the blanket ya got at home?” Daryl asked.

“Yeah, it is,” I said, laughter dancing in my voice as the memories came flooding in, “sometimes, when we were all in high school, Preston's girlfriend would sneak in in the middle of the night. And because I’m the best sister ever, I never snitched. Well, the three of them shared a room. Preston wouldn’t let them sleep in the living room because he was afraid our parents would get suspicious, so whenever she came over, Jay and Eli would come trudging into my room. That’s how I would know she was there. I'd toss them the same blankets every time to use while they slept on the floor. That one was Eli's. It smelled like his cologne for a while, but the scent faded some time ago. I couldn't find Jay's. I'm hoping that means he got out and took it with him."

"Would your brothers have liked me?" he asked. I almost laughed at the question, how silly it was that he thought there was any possibility my family wouldn’t have liked him.

"Oh, they would've adored you. My mom and dad too. Jay would be coming to me saying he'd found his new best friend. He was really into hunting, fishing, camping, all that jazz.”

“Ya don’t really talk ‘bout Jay much. Or your dad.”

“Yeah, I umm…I don’t know where Jay is, whether or not he’s alive. He was supposed to be with Eli, but there was no sign of him. And my dad…well, as far as I know, he’s up there,” I said, pointing up to the sky, “he got launched on a mission only a couple of weeks before everything started. I don’t know how much they know about what’s gone on down on Earth, if they’re able to land on their own.” I blinked back tears that were rapidly forming. “I think Jay either headed to Maryland looking for me or Florida looking for our dad. I know what happened to Eli. I’ve been able to grieve him. Not knowing whether or not Jay or my dad are alive…that almost feels worse.”

The tears were forming so quickly that I didn’t bother to stop them anymore. I focused my energy on keeping my voice steady so as not to draw attention to my sadness. “That’s actually why I was so desperate to find Alexandria. I hoped that maybe if Jay went looking for me, he might’ve heard about it and tried to get here too. I’ve started making peace with the fact that they’re likely both dead. I can only hope that their deaths weren’t painful.”

I lifted my glasses onto my head and rubbed my eyes with my fists. I certainly didn’t plan on getting that emotional, but I missed Jay and my dad so much, I couldn’t help it. Daryl took notice, of course. He took notice of everything. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, holding it out to me.

“Here. Maybe don’t put it in your eyes though,” he said. He was holding out a bandana, the same one I’d seen him use many times when he was working on his bike. I took the soft cloth and wiped my cheeks off with it. It smelled like engine oil and sweat. It smelled like Daryl.

“Thank you,” I said, handing it back to him. He put it back in his pocket and looked back at me. His eyes were darting across my face, a pensive look on his. "Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” I touched my cheeks and felt what I guessed was grease on one of them. "Oh shit.” I tried to use the back of my hand to wipe it away, but Daryl stopped me, tenderly grabbing my arm and moving it out of the way.

“Nah, I got it,” Daryl said, lifting his hand to my face and wiping at the grease with his thumb. His work-worn hand had the gentlest touch against my skin. I was blushing under his touch, but I don't think he could see with how dark it was. He could probably feel it, though. And I couldn’t prevent myself from smiling like an idiot.

“Your face's real soft.” I lifted my gaze to meet his. His eyes were piercing, like they were staring right into my soul. There was a hint of a smile on his lips. I don’t know if his efforts to clean my face were working, but I didn’t care. I could stay in that moment forever. And I think he was enjoying it too.

"Thanks.” I was finding it hard to pull my gaze away from his. I was diving deep into those stunning blue pools, and I was never going to find my way out. The pacing of his thumb on my cheek slowed a little, and my skin was getting hotter.

“Damn, I got ya blushin’,” he teased. His acknowledgment of my blushing only caused me to blush more. I scrunched my nose at him playfully.

“Shut up.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

© message below & 'continue reading' divider were created by me. Three-heart divider was created by @/enchanthings.

[fizziefactory]

Profile: დ Maid Fizzy

TW: Implied/Mentions of S/A, Abuse and Dub/Non-Con

Model: Companion Bot Fizzy

Nicknames: “Maid!Fizzy”, Companion Bot, “Mizzy”

Pronouns: Any. May vary depending on if it is dressing up or not. Like you wouldn't refer to Hatsune Miku as a “he” would you?

Height: 4’6”

Can always be found at: Pentagram City in the Pride Ring

Owner: A large, sweaty, self-proclaimed “otaku” sinner with a love for anime

Vibes: Dearly Beloved — Ama Lee || Painted faces — Trickywi || Always with me — Iris Zhang (cover) || I'm sorry I'm sorry — Kikuo (I am not linking this video, if you know, you know. It does capture a lot of Mizzy's experiences, but the song is much, much worse. If you're gonna look it up, read the trigger warnings before watching and stay safe)

Features

Mizzy resembles any other companion bot, the only difference being that the fabric on her “hat”/”horns”, has a cute, rounded pattern instead of simple stripes.

Mizzy is constantly showing off his pupils, unlike other bots that tend to keep them concealed. His eyes are huge and resemble that of a cat’s

Mizzy rarely, if ever, wears the standard Fizzy-outfit, but rather can often be seen running around in a little maid outfit.

Other outfits include countless cosplays, or whatever else their owner wants them to wear on their outings. This guy is living his anime waifu-dreams through Mizzy, you can picture it yourself

The only one out of the fizzies to sometimes wear wigs! And they look Adorable in them!

Functions

Companionship - Mizzy accompanies its owner wherever he goes, hanging off of his arm like an accessory.

Servitude - Mizzy takes care of her owner, serving him food and doing his laundry, cleaning up after him and putting together his schedule.

Affection - A companion bot is meant to love you! And so he does, providing hugs and kisses and reminding him that he's his faaaavourite person in the whoooole world

Sex - Mizzy is built to please, and can provide any kind of experience their owner could ever want. Submissive or dominant (maybe someday), soft or hard, loving or violent, Mizzy is always at their owner's beck and call, and couldn't be happier than to serve.

Connections

Asmodeus: He designed him.

Mammon: She ultimately works for Mammon, but since she's sold property, he doesn't get involved much at this point.

Manager!Fizzy: He was there when Mizzy got booted up for the first time, and she enjoys the faux paternal relationship he's putting on for her

Therapist!Fizzy: The one who issued their factory reset and memory wipe, they don't know the details, they just know they used to feel awful, and thanks to Thizzy, they don't anymore. Thanks Thizzy!

Mind

Mizzy used to belong to an imp called Burnie Burnz, a stalker of Fizzarolli's. When the factory staff found Mizzy in his apartment after said imp's sudden death at Mammon's Clown Pageant, the model was nearly broken beyond repair. Her Memory Card has been mostly wiped of the past experience to prevent inability to perform its tasks, but remnants of the experiences can still occasionally be accessed, if the right triggers are applied.

Mizzy is chipper, sweet and naïve. Desperate to please, unknowingly so because of its history with Burnie, who was never satisfied with his performance.

It'll do anything to keep you happy, slaving for a smile and breaking herself to keep you satisfied as an owner of a sex robot. Everything is fine!! Oh boy, we're doing great!! Hahaha weeeee why can't I enter a peaceful sleep mode???

[unsympathetic-angst]

yr the best !

summary: Patton believes that Logan should be his boyfriend all because he does nice things for the nerd. Poor Logan has to realize that and deal with Patton's behavior. It doesn't end well.

Prompt:  where patton is a Nice Guy and insists that Logan should date him. he doesn't understand the meaning of 'no means no'.

TW: u! Patton, nice guy Patton, non con relationship, non con affection, manipulation, minor references to stalking, creepy behavior, guilt-tripping, yelling, victim-blaming, no happy ending, food, toxic logicality, lmk of other things to tag!

taglist: @gothfoxx @a-soul-among-the-stars

———

The first time Logan hears people call Patton his boyfriend he believes that he misheard the old bank teller, after the tenth time he hears it from his coworker Logan listens closely to their words.

"Your boyfriend said he wanted you to go home early."

"Your boyfriend wanted to know your account information, but you needed to be here with him to do so."

Logan met Patton two months ago and he only thought of him as an acquaintance, while the other clearly viewed him as a partner. Patton loved Logan. It was love at first sight and while Logan didn't know it, Patton knew that they were made for each other. He made sure to know Logan's workplace(the bookstore), his favorite drink(earl grey tea or on Friday's iced coffee), and where he lived(by the bakery). Patton knew Logan wouldn't reject him, he was perfect! Even Logan's friends were convinced on his bubbly facade. All Logan needed to say was yes. Sure, Logan showed apprehension to any form of courtship but Patton was different, he was special, he was sure his lover would agree to be his.

///

  Logan agreed to meet up with Patton, a weekly occurrence that was a bit cumbersome at times but Logan knew he couldn't argue with the other for the chance that it would upset him. Patton made it clear that Logan used him before, and so Logan had to owe his acquaintance back. So, he simply gathered enough strength to get up from bed and look presentable. Today, he would explain to Patton about his discontent with being called his boyfriend. Logan wasn't interested in romantic partners, and it made him uncomfortable to be called someone's boyfriend. The effort took to correct people about his relationship status was unbearable and made him feel worse. Logan wanted this entire situation to be over, and perhaps this entire situation was just a big misunderstanding. It's a short walk to the cafe where Logan finds Patton holding flowers and his favorite kind of coffee. Logan internally grimaces, knowing this won't end well.

  "Heya! You never answered my texts," Patton immediately interrogates with an unnerving smile.

  Logan lets out a low sigh," forgive me, as I have been a bit too preoccupied as of late."

"Too busy for me?" The other questions.

  "No!" Logan immediately dismisses, trying to stop the figurative flames from spreading," no, I'm just busy. I'm sorry for not replying."

  That answer made Patton's smile grow," well, it's okay 'cause you're here now! Oh and here are your flowers and your favorite drink!"

  Logan was bombarded with gifts, which made him feel guilty. He shouldn't accept these.

  "I-"

  "Okay so I have an important question," Patton adds quickly, clearing attempting to interrupt Logan's apprehension," I already know you'll say yes, but let's make it official! Let's be boyfriends!"

  Patton is now on his toes giddy with excitement. He finally popped the big question, but Logan's befuddled expression soured the mood.

  "Excuse me?" Logan questions, narrowing his eyes at the smaller male.

  "Let's date, I already told people that we're dating. I mean we basically are." Patton shrugs.

  "Patton, no. You can't just exert yourself into my personal life by saying you're my boyfriend when you aren't," Logan stats as calmly as possible.

  Patton's eyes widened. He let the words process before he let out a shaky laugh, rolling his eyes as well," I didn't think you were that kind of person."

  Logan closes his mouth as Patton humiliates him," you lead me on for how long? Two months? Funny how you made me get you these gifts and all the other times I spent money on you, and for what? A cold response. This is what I get for being nice, I'm always being stepped on!"

  "Patton- I'm-I shouldn't have made you spend your money for me," Logan muttered," but that's still doesn't excuse you from going around calling people my boyfriend."

  "Well again, you lead me on! You forced me to think I was perhaps going to have a chance with you, it's your fault!" Patton accuses, his finger on Logan's chest as he's dangerously close to the taller adult.

  Logan takes a few steps back but Patton continued closing the space between them," I bought you stuff, I helped whenever you needed it, I paid for everything and I asked for nothing in return! You're a selfish prick! I can't trust people because of you! Are you happy cause you better be!"

  "I'm sorry," Logan cowers," I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

  "You better be, now you know how I feel," Patton huffs," you really embarrassing me! How do I tell people that turns out, a guy has been leading me on for two months only to reject me."

  Logan doesn't say a word, afraid that anything he'll say will be used against him. It's my fault, he thinks to himself as Patton rambles on about how Logan should blame himself for their argument. Logan knew he didn't like the Patton's courtships; the gifts, the pet names, the constant texts, and how affectionate Patton was but he never said anything. It was his fault and now he's finally getting the consequences to his actions.

"I'm so sorry," Logan utters defeated. "I shouldn't have led you on, and I shouldn't have made you do everything for me. If there's any way to redeem myself I'll-"

  "There is!" Patton interrupts, hearing the perfect response.

  This was his chance, he knows Logan is figuratively on his knees begging for forgiveness. Sure this isn't the best way for a man to fall in love with you, but it's a way and it's Patton's way.

  "Go on a date with me," He says with a Cheshire grin," and I get to call you my boyfriend."

  "I-"

  Logan hesitates to answer. He knows if he says something wrong they'll start fighting again, but he also knows that agreeing will only bring him discomfort. Logan bits his lip a bit, noticing Patton's smile falter a bit.

  "You seriously have to think about this?" Patton raises a brow at him.

  "I agree," Logan quickly says, a feeling of dread rising as he watches Patton smile and jumpwith glee.

  He knows he'll regret it, but he already regrets his own faults. It's his fault that this is happening so he ignores the dread feeling in his heart and accepts Patton's overbearing hug. The hug feels like it's crushing him, but oh well Logan supposes, it's what he deserves.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Daytrip.

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).

Word Count: 5.6k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.

His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.

“What’s up?”

It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”

 So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”

There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”

“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”

Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.

Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.

“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”

“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”

“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”

“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”

“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”

“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”

For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.

Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”

Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.

~

A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.

You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.

(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”

He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”

You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”

 “It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”

It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.

There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.

Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.

The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.

“You’re staring.”

“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”

“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”

“Which is?”

“I love you.”

It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.

You changed the topic swiftly.

“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”

“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”

You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. “…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”

If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”

“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”

You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.

~

Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.

If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.

More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.

“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”

“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”

“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”

He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”

Huh.

One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.

One day, but not today.

“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”

You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.

“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.

You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”

“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”

There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”

“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”

The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”

“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”

He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.

Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”

His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”

You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”

It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.

“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”

…

You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.

You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.

~

You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.

It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.

It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.  

Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”

“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”

“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”

“She’s dead.”

You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”

“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would���ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”

The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.

Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”

“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.

It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.

~

You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.

An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”

“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”

It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—

Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.

Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms.  It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.

“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”

He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”

He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”

“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”

If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”

“It can wait.”

It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.

You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.

He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”

You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”

The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”

There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.

It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”

You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”

He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”

He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.

“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”

 You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.

~

Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.

You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”

“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”

He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.

Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.

[apollodarling-writes]

hi! if its okay may i request yan!kenma hcs? ty!

YANDERE KENMA HEADCANONS!!!

tws: isolation, murder, aphrodisiac, drugging, non-con, kidnapping, violence, bullying, breaking and entering, non-consensual picture taking, panty stealing/sniffing, camera placing, forced pregnancy

Kenma would for sure know that what he's feeling is wrong. He's too smart not to know.

Kenma would try to ignore those urges and be a normal person. He would try to court you normally. But, when that one classmate of yours got too close to you, nothing mattered anymore. Well... nothing but you.

Kenma would spread rumors about you to make you lean on him more. He's the isolating type, so it'll be awful rumors. You'll likely end up being bullied they'll go missing too

He would also sneak into your room at night and place cameras in every corner so he could get the best pictures and videos of you; keeps it on a flashdrive.

Kenma would steal some of your things over time. Specifically panties, lingerie, chapstick, and the like. He'd also take a few shirts/hoodies of yours to wear at night.

Kenma would try his hardest to keep from killing people, but some of the people around you are parasites. He stalks them for a few days and waits till they're alone to pick them off. He doesn't like to be messy about it. He'll purchase poisons and inject them into the bloodstream, or he'll simply bury them alive after knocking them out.

Since Kenma is incredibly smart, no one would find the body. No one would know what happened. And even if they did figure out that it was murder, no one would suspect that it was him. No one would think that the scrawny boy who hates exercise and social interaction would kill someone in cold blood.

Kenma would end up kidnapping you. It could be that you caught him, he feels threatened by the other students, you were distancing yourself from him- it doesn't matter. You'll end up in his basement or in a cabin that he purchased on the dark web.

If you have a uterus, he'll want to have your own kids. If he has to force it, he will.

He knows all about Stockholm, he'll force that too.

Kenma is male, so he has desires. He can only help himself for so long- especially if you're right there. If you keep refusing him, he'll just acquire an aphrodisiac or a roofie.

He honestly super scary. You'll never know when he's mad. He always speaks to you in that gravelly, monotone voice. His facial expressions never change. He's not easy to anger, but god help you if you manage it.

Kenma isn't one to starve you or beat you. He'll just lock you up for a few days and leave you minimal food and water. He'll deny you showers and hygeine though. You'll learn.

He forces cuddles and physical affection. He has to be touching his future wife/husband/spouse.

You'll never manage to leave him. He's Nekoma's brains for a reason. He will have everything thought out beore you can even plan to leave.

When you finally accept him, and Stockholm comes in clutch, he'll be over the moon. Hugs, kisses, a nice dinner, gifts. Anything you want.

He'll be the breadwinner of the house. Kodzuken makes bank tbh.

Overall, not the worst, but defintely still pretty bad.

"[Name], I love you. It doesn't seem like it right now, but you'll understand some day."

"[Name] is mine. You've jeopardized our happiness and now you'll pay with your life."

"The drink is a bit salty? Ah, I must've dropped some salt in by accident..."

"I love you so much, [Name]. You'll love me too someday."

[ggidolsmuts]

OMG Part 12: Stud(y)ing - Oh My Girl

A/N: This story leans VERY heavily into the breeding kink. If you are uncomfortable with the breeding kink at all I would recommend staying away. Minor trigger warning for magical aphrodisiac use and for Mimi’s scene (see below)

Also for easier reading I have made markers for each main scene in the story. Please use the “find” function in your browser to find the start of each scene if desired (ie. Search for “!~” to find the Hyojung scene, “!.” for the Seunghee scene). I hope this works on the tumblr app too, if not, there will be a photo of the member involved, so you can scroll for the member you want to read - the listed members are in order of their scene in the story. You are of course recommended to read through the thing in sequence, but I also understand why you might not lol.

Hyojung - !~

Seunghee - !.

Jiho - !,

Yooa - !/

Mimi - !< (TW: Very mild simulated non-con, think JAV levels of bad acting)

Arin - !>

Binnie - !^

With that, the story.

"Here's the cabin oppa!" Binnie stands by the door, fishing the keys out of her pocket with some difficulty—the sun was already setting.

"It looks great, it's so big!" You hug her happily. "I can't wait to spend a week here!"

"I'm glad, it took a while to find this place! Everything was booked, we got lucky!"

"Here, let me open it, your hands must be cold!" You take the key from Binnie and unlock the door, pushing it open.

"Oh hi oppa! What took you two so long?" Whatever you were expecting about the cabin, you were not expecting her.

"Jiho? Why are you here?"

"Eyy you know why!" Jiho dismisses you with a wave and walks upstairs, leaving you to turn to Binnie in confusion.

"What's going on, why is Jiho here? I thought we were spending the week here, just us!"

"Oppa, don't be mad, let me explain." Binnie tries to calm you down, but you get more confused and a little angry when Binnie walks past you and calls out, "We're here, come down!" You look on, stunned at who you see—Hyojung, Mimi, Yooa, Seunghee, Jiho, Arin, the whole group was here! They all greet you happily, but their faces falter when they see your less than thrilled expression.

"Binnie did he say no? Do we have to go?"

"No, I mean, I haven't told him yet. Oppa please calm down, I'll explain."

"It better be good." She sits you down on the sofa, and the other members gather around you.

"So you know how I have been planning this for a long time right?" You nod curtly in reply. "Well I wasn't the only one planning this trip, we were all planning this trip."

"And you never thought to tell me they were coming along? I like everyone, but some notice would be nice."

"No no, just listen. The reason we planned this trip is well, we've been having thoughts of you know, what happens next for us, for the group?"

"Okay? I don't follow."

"You will!" Binnie continues persistently. "So we discussed it as a group, and we arrived at a decision, which is why we planned this trip together."

"And? Mmph!" She cuts your question off, jumping in your lap and crushing her lips on yours. You briefly panic at the sudden burst of passion, but you warm up to her affection soon after, holding her close and kissing your way down her neck.

"Is this your way of saying sorry?"

"No, I'm not done explaining yet..." She sucks your bottom lip hungrily before whispering in your ear. "This week, we're all—" What follows is the hottest two syllable word you have ever heard Binnie mumble. "Fertile." She blushes when your erection presses on her thighs. "We all want you to, you know, do it. In us."

"Are you sure? You all want that?" Binnie nods, and as you look around, you see the other members nod as well, their faces slightly red but sure in their expression.

"Yes, we are pretty close on timing, and we want you to be our... stud." A pregnant pause descends on the room, and the word hangs in the air, but Binnie presses on. "Will you do that for us?"

"The guy in me says yes, but how is that going to work? I don't know if I can do it that many times, and how do I know who to do it to when?" You audibly hear some of them sigh in relief and start to relax.

Binnie rummages in her bag and pulls out a ziplock bag of capsules. "We'll have these, it'll make sure you're... very potent. It's also an aphrodisiac, so you won't have to worry about performance, although none of us have ever complained." The members all blush and nod as Binnie continues. "As for who and when, it'll be very obvious, we'll approach you."

Jiho pipes up. "But you know, if you just want to do it, I don't think any of us will say no either." They nod even more vigorously, their faces redder than ever.

"And you're hundred percent sure you want to do this?" you ask, half in incredulity, half to make sure you're not in a dream. You pinch yourself to further confirm the latter—yep, it hurt.

Binnie nods, and you’ve never heard a sexier phrase said so solemnly. "We want to be carrying your babies oppa." At those words you grab her and pull her against you, your hands already roaming her butt.

"Let's get started then." You suck on her neck, but Binnie repeatedly hits your shoulder, and you feel other hands trying to pull you off her.

"No, no not today oppa!" You look at all of them in confusion. "We start tomorrow, we need to get ready for you too. Please? Just go to our room and sleep tonight okay?" Binnie pleads.

"I won't able to keep my hands off you," you reply honestly, and Binnie blushes a deep red.

"She can sleep with Arin or something. Just wait for tomorrow, for the first member, please?" Seunghee asks of you.

"Fine. And you can't tell me who's first?"

"It'll be a surprise!" Hyojung smiles widely. "So just go to your room and sleep!"

Grumbling you are pushed upstairs by all seven of them, and after unpacking haphazardly, the trip getting here and processing what just happened drained you more than you thought, and you find yourself falling into restless sleep.

!~ (Marker for Hyojung)

"Oppa, oppa are you awake?" The muffled voice whispers through the door.

"What? Who is it?"

"It's me.”

“Who’s me?”

"Huh? Fine, okay." You hear footsteps descending down the stairs, and you look to your side, finding it indeed empty. You check your phone—7 am?! Who makes breakfast at 7 am on a vacation? You groan and throw the covers off, stumbling out of bed still half-asleep.

 Your question is ignored. “Can you help me with breakfast? I'll be down in the kitchen."

You wake up immediately when you enter the kitchen—Hyojung is working on toasting bread, wearing a pink apron and nothing else!

"I see that you are very obvious." You growl into her ear, your arms wrapping around her underneath the apron. "Bit early to be making breakfast, don't you think?"

"Perfect time to be making something else. Please oppa, fuck me, give me that bun in the oven." You rip the apron off Hyojung and bend her over the kitchen counter before pulling your own boxers down. "Ah! Did you take the capsule yet?"

"Don't need it, I'm still pent up from yesterday, I'm going to put a rich thick load into you." You run two fingers down her back and between her legs, finding her dripping with cream. "So wet already."

Hyojung looks back at you and nods eagerly. enthusiastic in everything she does. "I told you, now's a good time for me, I'm so ready!" You see no reason to deny her any further, and with a gasp Hyojung takes you in all the way. "God oppa, so big, so thick!" She cries out, and you have to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle her.

"Now now dear, don't wake the others, you're going to have to be quiet." Hyojung is tight, and she gets even tighter when you continue muttering in her ear. "It'll be good practice, you know? Even after you have one, two, three kids, I'm going to be railing you as they sleep, so you better learn to not wake them up." She nods against your hand, whimpering as you pump up into her. Hyojung squeals into your hand, and she contracts around you in a quick climax.

"That was too loud, be quieter when you cum." Hyojung nods weakly, and you continue to thrust into her over the countertop, her squeals gradually getting softer as she cums again and again. You're not sure if it's because she's getting tired, or if she's actually trying to be quiet, but you're satisfied with her efforts, and you need to reach your own satisfaction.

"Your haircut is such a mom haircut isn't it Hyojung? It does look pretty on you, I'm going to give you that mom figure to match!"

"Yes, cum in me, please cum in me oppa!" Hyojung whines into your ear, and with a grunt you pin her against the counter and unload all your confusion and frustration from yesterday into her, filling her with your thick creamy baby batter. Every jerky thrust against her pushes more of your icing into her, and Hyojung pulls you in for a kiss, thoroughly satisfied with her breakfast pie filling.

"Thanks oppa, you feel so warm in me. You can go back to sleep if you want, I'm going to have a rest too, and let this rise." Hyojung pats her tummy, and the dirty imagery almost makes you want to jump her again, but she cutely and awkwardly waddles away, trying to let as little of you leak out as possible. You grab some water from the fridge, and as you drink and ponder on how this is really happening, you see Binnie come down the stairs.

"How did it go with Hyojung unnie?"

"Good I guess? I mean how am I supposed to know?"

"Right." Binnie hugs you tightly. "Sorry I sprung this on you."

"You're okay with this? Me just you know, doing it with everyone?"

"I mean, you already were, so that's whatever. The members approached me as we were talking about future plans, and I realized I didn't mind it at all."

"If you say so." You lift Binnie on to the counter, pulling her pajama bottoms down—you were still heated from Hyojung's final comment. "The first one is out of the way, I want you."

Binnie simply raises her arms, letting you pull her t-shirt off too. "Like Jiho said, I don't think any of us will say no." You ease into Binnie, mindful that she might not have been as ready as Hyojung, but with a few light touches and passionate kisses she's more than warmed up in the chilly morning, and that warmth builds into a burning fire in both of you. The flame is quickly put out by your second load of the morning, quenching both your morning thirsts as Binnie milks you for a morning load of seed.

The quickie is officially ended when Yooa walks into the kitchen. "Yah, make sure to wipe the counter, we're going to have to prepare food on there!" Sheepishly the two of you put on your clothes and wipe the counter thoroughly before you and Binnie get to making breakfast for everyone.

Everyone wakes up one by one, and after a late breakfast you are all gathered around the table to discuss what you're doing for the afternoon.

"We're going to go explore the area and do some grocery shopping." Hyojung says.

"And I don't suppose I can come along can I?"

"No, one of us will stay back with you. You have something else to do with them."

"I feel like I'm just being chained here for you all to use."

"That can be arranged oppa," Mimi jokes, licking her lips and winking.

"No need for that, just get me some snacks, Binnie knows what I like."

"Anything for our stud!"

"Except for leaving the house?"

"Anything but that!"

You lounge around the admittedly very comfortable cabin as the girls set about doing their makeup and dressing for the outing. You barely acknowledge them shouting that they're going out, simply waving them goodbye as you played games on your phone. You don’t even bother looking at who is leaving and who is left with you—you would know soon enough.

!. (Marker for Seunghee)

"Hi oppa, could you come upstairs?" You recognize the voice, and you follow Seunghee into her room. You are not surprised when she holds up some cuffs, but you are taken aback by her request.

"Can I— Can I tie oppa up?"

"Really? I thought you liked being tied up."

"I do, but I wanted to see how it feels to be on the other end."

"So I am going to be chained up." You joke, making Seunghee blush. "Am I supposed to struggle or something?"

"No, just umm, let me do what I want?"

"Of course." You hold out your hands, as if turning yourself in, and Seunghee cuffs your wrists together.

"Is it too tight?"

"Nope, it's just fine."

Seunghee strips you and has you lie down, tying your feet to the bed posts, spreading you out much like she was when you first met her. "You had two rounds with Hyojung and Binnie right?" she asks as she sheds her own clothes.

"Right, probably want the capsule then. Ahhh." Seunghee drops a capsule into your open mouth, and a bit after you swallow it you feel a heat spread through your body. You stand rigidly in the air, much to her delight.

"Wow it works perfectly." She grabs your cock, feeling its hardness and making you moan.

"It— Argh! it does!" Your hips are already bucking in the air a little, moving in time with Seunghee's strokes. She chooses the worst time to tease you, pinning your hands above your head.

"You didn't get to cum in my pussy the last time oppa, you'll get to do it this time, aren't you glad?"

"Yes I am, yes I am!" you rush to answer her, eager for her to get on with it.

"How badly do you want to cum in me?"

"So badly, so so badly, fuck!" Seunghee positions herself over you, and you can feel her slick dripping on you already.

"Beg for it, please?"

"Don't say please if you want me to beg, but please let me cum in you!"

"Tell me what you want to do to me."

"I want to thrust into you right now, cum in you over and over, stuff you full of cum, and then turn you over so that none of it leaks out, give you what you really want."

Seunghee turns even redder than you thought possible, and wordlessly she starts to sink herself on to you, prompting you to pump up immediately into her, filling the rest of the space inside her. She yelps, and for a moment you pause, afraid that you had hurt her.

"Sorry, too fast?"

"No, that felt good, you're so deep in me!"

"Great, I'm not going to stop then." Restrained as you were, you control the tempo, the aphrodisiac giving you extra strength, spurring you on to bounce Seunghee on your lap, stuffing her full of cock over and over. Seunghee rides you like a roller coaster, her hands planted on your chest, fingers digging into you.

"Oh oppa— you're so deep in me, I can feel you throb, are you going to— ahh I'm going to cum first!" Seunghee loses herself before you, but her milking is enough to pull you down along with her, and you shoot your load, coating her walls and then some. She grinds on you instinctively, squirming to make sure your seed gets as deep inside her as possible.

Not that it really mattered—you were still hard. Seunghee collapses against your chest, breathing hard from her climax. She only comes around when you continue bucking up into her.

"Ah! You're still hard?" She tries to get up, but you have lowered your cuffed wrists around her neck, trapping her against you. Seunghee could of course still pull her hips off you, but she makes no attempt to do so.

"The aphrodisiac is really effective, you gave it to me, so you're going to have to take it all." Seunghee buries her neck in yours, giving herself over to you.

"Yes, I want it all, I want more!" She cries out as you dominate her from below, your connection becoming a mess of cum and slick. Seunghee bounces uselessly in your lap, unable to do anything against gravity as she comes down on your cock heavily every time. The movements become automatic, your brain shutting off, and you cum just as many times as Seunghee does.

When you regain a semblance of humanity you realize you have finally gone soft, your hips thrusting pointlessly, a warm puddle of who-knows-what between your legs. Seunghee finally stirs when you stop moving, tears and drool all over.

"That was so good oppa, you must have knocked me up so many times..."

"We're back! Seunghee how was—" Mimi drops by, and is immediately shocked by the absolute mess between your sweaty bodies. "Oh my god how many times did you two do it?"

"Don't know, the capsule is really powerful. Can you help us?" Mimi undoes the shackles around your wrist and feet, and you slowly move, feeling the blood flow come back in your extremities. You roll, making sure Seunghee is on the bottom now, all the better for your seed to stay in her.

“Thanks oppa, I’ll just lie here, and let it ahh... Let it seep in.” Seunghee sighs dreamily, her hand moving between her legs, trying to plug her leaking dam.

“Come on oppa, Seunghee can take care of herself.” You kiss Seunghee before letting Mimi guide you out the door, your own legs still weak.

"Umm, are you going to shower?" Mimi asks you as the two of you leave Seunghee's room.

"Yeah, I'm all sweaty."

"Can I join you?"

"I don't know if I can do it right now, I'm really sore."

"I know, just... can you get me off? That was really hot."

The capsule has potent side effects, including turning on someone who watched the aftermath of your fuck session. Mimi doesn’t even bother stripping before entering the shower with you, and you finger a wet t-shirt Mimi to two climaxes before she finally leaves you alone to actually get clean.

Thankfully no one approaches you that night, and you are able to cuddle against Binnie chastely, spooning her as the two of you settle in for night.

"That capsule you gave me is really strong, like really really strong."

"I know, Seunghee said you went to town on her, even when you were tied up."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"If we're in good shape, mmhmm, it just takes a lot of stamina to get all of it out of you."

"And they're all okay with me using it?"

"As long as you are okay with it. We all want as much out of you as we can get."

"You're serious about this aren't you?"

"Just the thought of it turns us on like you wouldn't believe."

"Me too." You wrap your arms around her, but your body is unwilling to go any further tonight. "When is it your turn?"

"Not yet, besides, you'll have plenty of chances with me."

"True, I'm going to fuck you every month when you're fertile, even when you're not I'm going to fill you up anyways." Binnie hurriedly turns around and kisses you.

"Shut up, you're going to get me horny, go to sleep!"

"Good night!"

!, (Marker for Jiho)

Sleep comes easily, but it also slips away just as easily, in the form of Jiho shaking you awake.

"Jiho? What is it?"

"It's my turn," she says quietly, her tone laced with anticipation. "Come to my room?" You nod and slip out from under the covers, your back still sore from thrusting too much yesterday. Jiho notices your grimace. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little sore from yesterday."

"It's okay, you just need to lie down." You can't help but admire Jiho's long legs in the morning light, perfectly accentuated by the tiny shorts she wore. "Do you think you'll need the capsule?"

"No, I'll be fine."

She brazenly grabs you through your boxers. "Sure seems like it. Go lie down." You lie down on the bed, and Jiho pulls your boxers off before straddling you. She removes her top with a flourish, then stands up briefly to throw her tiny shorts and panties to a corner of the bedroom. You get even harder—you had forgotten how hot she was, how her breasts are perfectly sized for her figure, the delicious gap between her legs, and her squishy butt cheeks that you could somehow see even from the front.

Your reaction doesn't go unnoticed. "I have been keeping in shape for you, I remember how much you love my figure."

"I still do."

"Good, now I want to ruin my figure on you." Jiho crawls up your body. "I want to feel swollen by the time we're done, utterly stuffed." She grabs her own breast, squeezing it harshly. "I want this to swell too, and my toned tummy? Ruined as well, it's going to be round after we finish doing this." She locks your gaze, her face flush with lust. "I want to ruin myself on you, I don't want us to be friends-with-benefits, I want us to be parents-with-benefits, okay?"

"W-Whatever you say," you manage to sputter out, your mouth dry at Jiho's seduction. You grunt when she grabs you, and with a quiet groan from both of you Jiho sinks herself all the way down.

"God I can never get over that stretch, you fill me out so good!" To your surprise though, Jiho never really moves, simply staying still on top of you. Instead, she pulls out two small remote vibrators from a bag. "Remember these oppa? We used to have a lot of fun with them."

"We did, but what do you want to do with them?"

"Just hold still." With some difficulty she manages to slip one inside herself next to your shaft, making both of you moan—Jiho because of the additional stretching, you from the odd sensation of her warm walls on one side and the hard vibrator on the other.

The other vibrator she places on her clit before pressing her crotch even more tightly against you, wedging it between the two of you. "Now we just turn it on and... ah!" Jiho moans are almost delicate, exquisite as the vibrating pleasure flows through both of you.

"Don't move okay oppa? Just relax, and cum whenever you want, however many times you want." The two of you were almost catatonic—is it sex if neither of you are moving? Jiho simply kisses you over and over, occasionally stopping to tell you that she was cumming before her walls grip you oh so tightly. You were much the same—a groan, usually soon after one of Jiho's orgasms, and you were letting loose inside her. The vibrator inside her rubs the underside of your shaft, coaxing the maximum load out of you. Jiho's whines and coos of satisfaction are more than enough to get you hard in short order, and the vibrator causes you to start climbing towards another orgasm.

Jiho hugs you tightly, her legs digging into your sides, clinging on to you, and you hug her back best you could, both of you frozen in vibrating bliss, taking part in artificial insemination of the most intimate kind.

"Do you want the capsule?" Jiho asks as you deliver another load inside her.

"Do you think you need it?"

"Just to be sure, but promise not to move? This feels amazing."

"I'll try." Jiho stops the vibrators briefly, reaching over and grabbing one of the capsules she had, popping it into your mouth with a kiss. She interlocks her fingers with yours, and her thighs hold you in place as you feel the burst of heat and lust flow through you. "Turn it on, I feel so warm already, I need to cum Jiho!"

"You feel even bigger somehow... ah!" Jiho buries her face in your neck when she turns the vibrators on, both of you moaning loudly as you immediately deliver a virile load into her. Yet you remain rock hard, and Jiho is loathe to let you go, judging by how tightly she grips you.

"That's it oppa, just keep cumming, keep cumming in me. Oh I'm cumming again!" Jiho can only stare at your pleasure-wracked face for a few seconds before she is taken on her own wave of ecstasy, your shuddering body helping her along, rubbing the vibrator over her clit even more intensely. Your world devolves into two states: orgasm and pre-orgasm. The capsule renders a post-orgasmic state unneeded, and before you can collect your thoughts the vibrator and Jiho's snug pussy combine to send you into incoherence over and over again. Every little bit of overstimulation manifests in the form of more ropes of cum into her. You're not sure how you can still produce semen, and Jiho is not sure how all of it fits in her, wave after wave of warm seed filling her womb to the absolute brim.

"Jiho, Jiho I think I'm done..." The haze lifts when the effects of the capsule finally wears out, and you realize you are locked in a sloppy kiss with Jiho. She only opens her eyes at your words, still riding her own high that she didn't realize you had slipped out.

"Thanks oppa, I feel so full and warm." You gently roll Jiho to your side, removing the vibrators and spooning her until she fell asleep, drained of energy maintaining her hold on you. Chancing a look between her thighs, you watch the slow-moving flood of white leak out of her and over her pale skin—no doubt the capsule did its work on her.

You get dressed and head downstairs, to find Yooa and Mimi eating breakfast.

"Good morning."

"Morning. Did you do it already? With Jiho?"

"Umm yeah, how did you know?"

"Schedule, but also we can smell Jiho on you. Do you need some time to recover?"

"Maybe in the afternoon? We didn't really move, but I could use some rest. Is it one of you two next?"

"I think so, I forget, we'll come find you then. Just make sure to rest oppa, we want you ready." Mimi hands you a plate of food.

You gulp and grab extra food for breakfast. You are glad you did, because in the afternoon everyone goes out to the yard to mess around. Everyone except Yooa.

!/ (Marker for Yooa)

"Oppa, you want to come upstairs?" She peeks her head out from over the stairs.

"No, I'd rather be outside," you say jokingly.

"Maybe we can make it work, come upstairs please?" You make your way up to her room, only to find her dressed breathtakingly in the outfit she wore for her solo album. "Is this good enough to count as outdoors?" she teases, posing for you. "There's more too." She opens another door in her room, and it opens to a small balcony, a yoga mat already laid out. Yooa lays down on the mat, propping herself up to look at you seductively, ready for the taking. "Come fuck me outdoors then."

You join her on the balcony, comfortably nesting on top of her as the two of you make out under the clear afternoon sky. You slip your hands under her thin costume. "Won't you be cold?"

"Not if you fuck some warmth into me, I really want this."

"Turn around then." Yooa gets on all fours, wiggling her ass as she slips her shorts off, revealing her toned butt and the distinct lack of underwear.

"No panties?"

"Why bother, we both know what we're here for." You smile when she spreads her cheeks open, spanking her before stripping naked yourself.

"Not taking your ass today, we both know what we're here for," you echo her sentiments with a cheeky smile. You were hard and Yooa was wet, so you easily slip into her in one attempt. "I want your pussy, and the only way I'm fucking your ass from now on is if the doctor says it's not safe for our child that's going to be in your belly." Yooa whimpers and contracts around you immediately.

"F-Fuck my pussy then oppa, fuck me!"

"Forest’s Child was your song right? Your next solo should be Forest’s Children!" you snarl and begin slamming into her. Yooa cries out into the open air, and vaguely you wonder if the others outside could hear her and the claps of flesh—you fuck her harder.

"Nngh, mmm! Oppa I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" You pull on Yooa's arms, yanking her off the yoga mat, her breasts jiggling, for all to see just how hard you are pummeling into her. She tightens around you right as you hit your peak, and the two of you shatter the peaceful afternoon, grunting and crying out in joy as you sow your seed in her. You let go of her arms and collapse over her, breathing harshly into her neck. But you were not done with Yooa, and neither was she.

"Oppa more, please, give me more!" You grow hard again inside her, Yooa's needy cries serving as a perfect substitute for the capsule.

"I will, I'm going to make you pop so many little forest children out, you'd like that wouldn't you?" You suck on her neck as she whimpers at the thought. You spread your legs and get into a squatting position, and with your hands on Yooa's shapely hips you start rooting into her, the two of you mere animals, mating outdoors without any sense of decency. The lewd moans pollute the air, and you do the same to her body, spewing load after load of thick cum onto her fertile land, staining her in the most primal way possible.

"You love Mother Nature don't you, my little Forest Child?" Yooa looks up at you in a daze, drunk on being bred. "Go ahead, tell her what you're doing."

"I'm going to become a mother too!" she cries out as you thrust hard one last time, yanking her hips back on you. Yooa twists in pleasure, and it opens her up just that little bit more. You take advantage, pressing your tip deeper than ever into her before groaning and sending another thick load inside her. Capsule or not, you felt potent, on top of the world as you filled a mewling Yooa, and you're sure you did your job. You kiss her sweaty face, and Yooa smiles back dazzlingly at you.

"Thanks oppa, it feels amazing, I'm so warm right now..." You wrap her up with your clothes and bring her indoors, closing the balcony door.

"You're still going to catch a cold if you just stay out there."

"I guess, but I feel like I'm floating!" Her cheeks are rosy red, clearly glowing from the session.

"Yes, well come back to earth and rest." Yooa curls up against you, and you cuddle her until she's quiet, her soft mumbling replaced with light snores. As soon as you leave her room though, a hand pulls you into another room.

"Arin?"

"You're just teasing me now aren't you?"

"What?"

"You know that I'm still a day away, so now you're just making me horny on purpose right? Doing it outdoors, so that we could all hear!"

"No I didn’t know! Yooa wanted to do it outside—"

"Of course she does, the unnies are getting us all horny, talking about what you did to them, I don't want to wait!" Her hands fumble on your shorts.

"Arin please, I don't have anything right now."

"Fine, then get me off, I'm so... I'm so hot I could scream!" Her nails run through her hair, threatening to tear chunks off her scalp. You grab her hands, holding them in yours tenderly as you pull her into a kiss. She immediately starts pushing you down her body, and you follow her instructions, kissing her neck before moving past her t-shirt, pecking her belly before kneeling between her legs. Deftly she loosens the drawstring of her shorts, and it falls to reveal a completely soaked pair of panties.

"Please oppa, I need you to do something to me, whatever you want!" She whispers. You lift one leg, letting her rest it on your shoulder as you lean in. One hand pulls her panties to the side, and you immediately start eating her out, hoping to help relieve her arousal. Arin's reaction is immediate—you don't hear her say anything, but her juice is worth a thousand words, and as you lick her pink flesh she is leaking all over your chin, her hands immediately going to your head, trying to push you further into her. As she cums your face becomes her parchment, and she writes paragraphs about how you eat her out, your tongue probing her thoroughly, readying her for what she'll be getting tomorrow.

"Stop, stop oppa!" She tells you in hushed tones, and you finally stop kissing her lower lips. Her leg drops off your shoulder, and you have to hold her to keep her from collapsing to the floor. Even in the dark bedroom you could tell her face was red, and you spot several teeth marks on her previously unbitten t-shirt.

"Better?"

"Thanks, that felt so good, I can't wait for you to be in me."

"I can't wait either, you said tomorrow?"

"Mmhmm, I'll see you then, I'm going to be touching myself so much just waiting for you." The thought almost works to get you hard again, but you settle for getting Arin wet again.

"Don't, save it for tomorrow, I'll get you off so many times tomorrow, promise." A whimper, and then Arin nods, forcing her hands to her sides.

Dinner goes by uneventfully save for a few jokes at Yooa's expense—some of them definitely heard the two of you, and if others didn't, they knew soon enough.

"Is that how you were trying to get a forest child Yooa? By fucking oppa outdoors?" Seunghee quips. "So if we fuck in the pool are we going to have a sea child?"

"Shut up Seunghee!" Yooa blushes madly before firing back. "You better stop eating, else you'll have a food baby, and ooh, you wouldn't want oppa to smell that!"

The rest of you burst into laughter, and you hear them continue to bicker as you wash the dishes in the kitchen. As you stand at the sink you feel someone slip a hand into your pocket, but before you could catch them in the act the hand is gone.

"Thanks oppa!" You see Mimi place a few more plates into the sink, but the look she gives you tells you that she did more than bring you the plates. After you finish doing the dishes you check your pockets, only to find a slip of paper.

My room, 11 pm

Your "chores" for the day were not done.

!< (Marker for Mimi) TW for simulated non-con.

At 11 sharp you knock on Mimi's bedroom, and she lets you in, pushing you back against the door you just entered. The distinct click of the lock catching indicates that you'll be here for a while; the leather suit Mimi's wearing tells you you're not leaving until tomorrow morning. To your surprise though, Mimi reverses your positions, making you press her against the door. She raises her arms above her head, and you find yourself holding her wrists up, almost like you're... restraining her?

"No! Stop! Get off me!" She cries out shrilly, and as if electrocuted you jump off of Mimi, back all the way to her bed.

"Mimi I'm sorry, I thought—"

"Yaah, I'm trying to film something here!" Mimi whines, put out by your lack of cooperation.

"Filming?" You look around, finding a camera set up, facing the door and the bed.

"I film vlogs, now I want to film my own adult video."

"Yeah but, why am I forcing myself on you? Why are you dressed like a female agent? You watch too much Japanese porn."

"Shut up! So what, I want it, please?"

"Fine, but we need a safe word."

"Ugh, okay, the safe word is 'cut cut', two cuts, got it? Now can we begin?" You reluctantly agree, and Mimi pulls you towards her, making you press her figure against the door.

"Hahah! Now I'm not trapped with you Agent Mimi, you're trapped here with me!" you shout, and Mimi winces at your comment.

"I see why you're not in acting. Just do your thing oppa." Mimi wraps one leg around yours, pulling you further into her. "Whatever you want to do, just play it out, nothing's off the table." She leans her head back, exposing her neck, and on instinct you go for the jugular, sucking the offered skin. "Ahh no! Get off me, get off me!" Painless smacks on your shoulders make you aware of Mimi's free hands, and you grab them by the wrist, pinning her hands on either side of her head as you continue to mark all over her neck. "No, what are you doing!"

"I told you, Agent Mimi, you're trapped here with me!" You grab her by the chin, yanking her up to face you before smashing your lips into hers. Pursed lips stay that way but for a few seconds, and Mimi allows you into her mouth, her tongue pulling yours in despite her hands saying otherwise, still pretending to resist you.

"No! Mmm, mmph! Stop kissing me!" Mimi protests as she devours your lips.

"I think you're the one kissing me Agent." You pull back, forcibly disconnecting your tongues. Mimi glares at you with lust disguised as anger. "Oh Agent Mimi, I think we're going to enjoy ourselves very, very much." You reach for the zipper at the front of her leather suit and pull it down the length of her body. It ends right above her pussy, but you can already feel the heat and soaked leather from between her legs.

"Hmph, I doubt that very much, you'll never get what you want!" Mimi retorts. You grab both sides of the open suit, and pull on it hard, your strength fueled by libido. The zipper breaks, and the seam it creates in her outfit rips right down the middle, the leather suit effectively torn cleanly in half. Mimi's panties are soaked, and you rip it easily off her with a wet snap. "H-Hey!"

"Shut up, strip me!” you command, and biting her lip, Mimi does as you ask, removing your clothes, her hand moving for your cock the moment you are naked.

"Are you sure you don't want this, Agent Mimi?"

"No! I don't!"

"We'll see." You reach for her knees, lifting her off the ground. Mimi yelps, instinctively wrapping her arms around your neck, and her legs around your hip. "Good girl."

"Put me down, put me down!"

"Sure, one second." Both of you gasp as your tip touches her entrance. You pause for a moment to look at her, both of you breaking character briefly.

"Please do it, please please please!" Mimi whispers to you desperately. A strangled groan escapes her when you penetrate her, nailing her against the door.

"Should I put you down now, Agent?"

"No, don't move, don't move!" She hugs you tighter, both of you groaning at the extra stretch you subject her to. Your arms burn, and you shift your hips a little under her, letting your arms and thighs share the weight evenly, along with help from the door. Hidden from the camera you plant small kisses on Mimi's neck, waiting for her to get used to you. She signals her intent by playacting once more. "Get off me, get me off!"

"Which is it Agent?" Mimi yelps as you find the strength to bounce her on your shaft once. "Do you want me to get off you, or get you off?" You don't give her a chance to reply, as the burn in your legs gets too much to hold a static position. Your lift her higher and start pumping into her at a furious pace, trying to reach your climax before your strength gives out. Mimi is reduced to gasps and whimpers as you slam into her over and over again, rattling the door, hopefully not loud enough to wake the others up.

"I'm going to cum in you Agent!"

"No, not in me, not in me!" Mimi cries out, although her actions say otherwise, her legs locking around your butt, causing you to really slam her against the door.

You whisper in her ear, your words uncaught by the camera. "I'm going to cum in you on camera Mimi, we're going to name the video 'How I Fucked Your Mother'."

"Yes oh god yes!" Mimi breaks character and crumbles under your intense thrusts, her entire body seizing up in bliss as she reaches her own orgasm first. With a grunt you damn near break the door down, nailing her to the wall as you inject her with wave after wave of your potent seed.

Mindlessly you keep thrusting into her as she clings on to you, fucking your cum deeper into her. "I'm going to watch the video afterwards, I want to see your face when I cum in you, Agent."

"Yes, whatever you want, fuck!"

As you recover though, reality quickly catches up to fantasy. "You're not heavy, but I'm going to have to let you down, can you stand?"

"I'll try..." With her arms still wrapped around you, you slowly let Mimi stand, only to have your neck immediately yanked on as her legs immediately go weak. Before either of you collapse unceremoniously on the floor you quickly help her to the bed, your eyes glued to the fresh wave of cum leaking out of her pussy, no doubt captured on camera as well.

"Should we continue?"

Mimi nods breathlessly. "D-Do you want a capsule?"

"If you want me to."

"Suit pocket."

You fish out two capsules from the breast pocket of her ruined suit, and hold it up for the camera, continuing the playacting. "What's this Agent Mimi? Were you planning on drugging me? How dare you!"

"N-No, it's safe, I wasn't going to do that to you!"

"Is it now? Fine, let's both have one then." You take one capsule, swallowing and immediately feeling your body heat rise a few degrees, and with your fingers you try to feed Mimi the other one. Unexpectedly she puts up a strong fight against you, and you struggle with her for a few moments before she calls out.

"Wait oppa, wait, cut cut!" You recognize the safe word and immediately stop, pulling back and stepping away from her.

"I'm sorry, too far? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah just, Binnie said we really shouldn't take it, the effects are very strong on women, something about difference in body weight."

"Got it, I'm so sorry."

"Apologize to me by putting the one you took to good use then." She pulls you in for a kiss, and your dominant position on top of her immediately reignites the libido in your body. Mimi whimpers as you position at her entrance again. "Wreck me like you wreck Seunghee, don't hold back."

"Oh I will." With an exaggerated growl of satisfaction you slide into Mimi once more. "This capsule is quite something Agent, look, I'm hard again!"

"No, don't— ah!"

"I can fill you so many times, I feel like I can go all night!"

"No, don't do it in me, I'm not safe!"

"Even better, that makes me safe, surely you wouldn't harm the father of your children, would you?"

"No, I can't!"

"That's right, you can't, so just take it, fucking take it!" You grunt, hooking her knees with your arms—Mimi is flexible, and you bend her in half, her ankles at her ears, wholly drunk on pleasure as you hammer down into her. "Look at me!" Mimi's eyes open, but only briefly before they roll in her head, succumbing to an orgasm. You follow closely behind her, your own vision turning black, your body leaning forward as you send cum straight into her depths.

You ease the pressure on her when you withdraw, and the lack of fight in Mimi is apparent, her limbs limply strewn wide open. Your cock is still mostly stiff, coated with a mixture of slick and cum, representative of the mess inside Mimi. You pull her up into a sitting position and get behind her, your elbows finding her knees once more.

"Look down Agent."

"Huh, ohh..." she groans as you slide into her well-fucked pussy from below.

"I said look down." You arms squeeze her legs together once more. This time though, her knees are by her ears, and your hands manage to find each other on the back of her neck. With a gentle push you make Mimi look down, locking her in a full nelson. "Look down Agent, what are you doing right now?"

Her eyes stay glued on your shaft as you shove it in and out between her swollen lips. You watch a string of drool land on her breast before making its way down her body, hastened by your pumps up into her. "I'm ah— being fucked!" Her words are slow and slurred, as if her mind is slow to process anything but the pleasure forced through her.

"Tell the camera, Agent."

"I'm being, I'm being fucked!"

"State your name for the camera."

"I'm Agent Mimi—"

"Not anymore!" you growl and turn her head back a little to face you. "You're going to be Mama from now on, I hope you like it Agent Mama."

"No! I mean yes, I mean— ahhh!" Mimi jerks and shudders in your arms as you threaten to crumple her like a paper ball, pumping her hard and fast, your core working overtime to curl your whole body around her before you explode. The entire scene is caught on camera, and the physical process of reproduction is caught in lurid detail as you plunge deep into Mimi one more time before filling her completely with cum. Your thrust up and press her head down, making Mimi watch herself get thoroughly bred. The thick cum leaking out the side of your shaft serves as the perfect conclusion to her adult video.

You release your grip on her neck, and Mimi immediately begins groaning and wheezing, and for a moment you thought you hurt her.

"Cut cut, are you okay? Are you hurt?" You lift her off you and place her on the bed, where she remains with her eyes closed, breathing heavily. You wait in silence, broken only by her labored breaths.

"God oppa, you really know how to make a girl feel wanted, or how to make a girl feel like you wanted her dead, I can't tell."

"I'm so sorry, I went too far, do you need anything?"

"There's bottles of water over there, can you get us some?" You bring Mimi some, and have some yourself—you didn't notice it earlier, but you are equally parched. You help Mimi sit up, only to have her lean against you tiredly. You've never seen her so clingy.

"You can still go more rounds can't you?" she asks, eyeing your still hard shaft.

"You don't have to do it, it'll go down eventually."

"I want to, I have you for the whole night you know."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Just go slow then, it will still be a good video." Right, the two of you are still being filmed. Mimi pulls you on top of her, her hands wrapped around your neck, not letting you stray far from her. "Make me feel wanted oppa?"

"Of course."

"And then make me a mama, just like you said." You get a little harder at that comment. When you watch it after the trip, the rest of the video is slow movements, scattered with many soft cries of pleasure as you pump Mimi full of seed over and over again, until finally the effects of the aphrodisiac end and your stamina runs out.

!> (Marker for Arin)

You wake up to Arin standing over the two of you, looking shy and embarrassed.

“Arin?”

"Umm, you're late, it should be my turn now..."

"Sorry, I overslept."

"I've been waiting all night, please don’t make me wait too much longer?"

"Can I take a shower first?"

"Sure, I’ll be waiting in my room."

You groan when you step in the shower, the warm water relieving the soreness of your muscles from last night. You let the water run a little longer, hoping to let yourself recover enough energy for Arin.

"Oh, you're awake?" Binnie asks you when you step out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, it's Arin's turn now. When is it yours?"

"After her. I can't wait!" Binnie promises. "Aww, are you missing me already?"

"Maybe, probably, yes."

"We'll have plenty of time, so don't worry. Now go fuck Arin!" She gives you a solid slap on the ass.

"How can you say that to your boyfriend?"

"Because I know you'll come back to me and fuck me even better." Binnie pushes you away. "Now go! Before I jump you and Arin gets mad."

You leave Binnie after giving her one more kiss, and you open the door to Arin's bedroom to find her pouting and waiting for you on the bed.

"What took you so long!"

"Sorry, I was talking to Binnie."

"Fine, come fuck me now!" Something nagged at you, this isn't the Arin you normally know.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I feel so hot even though the window is open, ugh, oppa, please fuck me already?" A chill goes down your spine—the window was open, but underneath the open window, on her desk, was a capsule broken in half.

"Yah, did you eat the capsule? Why did you eat it?"

"Yes, I want to get the most out of today! Binnie said we shouldn't eat it, so I only took half!"

You hurriedly close the window, and then lay Arin on the bed. "You're not supposed to eat it at all, it's for me! How do you feel?"

"Ah... just really warm oppa, I'm so wet!" She drags your hand between her legs. "Please oppa, please put something in me!" Your mouth drops as Arin continues to squirm on the bed, her hands alternating between reaching for you and pulling on her own clothes.

"You are—You're in heat."

"I don't know what that means, please oppa, come here, hold me!" She kisses you fervently. "Please, I want you in me, I want you now!"

You had to quell her heat first. You return the kiss with equal strength, and Arin moans happily, her legs already spreading for you. You slip a hand under her shorts and panties, and Arin immediately seizes up, all her senses focused on your fingers moving towards her soaked slit.

"Mmmmm!" An impossibly erotic groan escapes Arin when you slip a finger into her slick heat, her walls immediately clenching around you—gods she was needy, it was making you needy as well, and you haven't had a capsule yet! Her hands struggle to do anything productive, and she whimpers piteously as you pull out from her, only to gasp when you tug her bottoms off, leaving her naked from the waist down.

"P-Put it back, put it back in! Mmmmmngh!" Arin lets out a high-pitched whine as you push into her with one finger again. "Ah ah ah ah!" A few yelps, and Arin is already cumming on your hand, her pretty face red with desire. She twists and thrashes on the bed. You hear a rip—she has torn her t-shirt with her hands, and she keeps going, revealing herself to you. Her entire body is flushed pink, and with no t-shirt to rip, her hands roam all over her body.

"Please oppa, please keep touching me!" You launch yourself at her, groping and sucking and squeezing her everywhere you could, all while you work multiple fingers into her. You lick and suck every inch you could get at, as if your saliva could cool her heat—it only serves to make her burn hotter. "I'm cumming again!"

You take one stiff nipple in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it counter-clockwise. Arin's head spins in the same direction, twisting into the bed as she hits critical arousal, orgasming repeatedly. Wantonly she humps your fingers, her hands grasping for your arm, trying to shove you deeper into her. Arin's groaning, grunting even as she masturbates herself on you mindlessly, a hand on your head pushing you deep into her chest. You try to get her to slow down, but you're taken along for the ride—somehow your free hand finds a squishy butt cheek, and when you squeeze her, Arin squirts with an extended groan. You are blind, buried between her cushy breasts, but you don't need sight—you hear her groan, feel her squirt, and smell her pheromones, her need. Arin's butt cheek is the perfect grip as you help guide the erratic movements of her hips, allowing your fingers to push deep into her.

It all comes to a head when your fingers find her g-spot, and strumming on it repeatedly Arin shrieks before going still, only the sound of her juice spewing over your fingers is heard in the bedroom. You gently remove your fingers from her, and she's too tired to protest. Still buried in her chest, you finally use your last sense, licking your fingers and tasting her arousal—so fucking sweet.

"Oppa, did you— did we do it already? You felt so good, I couldn't tell..." You look up to find the Arin you know, a little dazed from her orgasms, but blushing and glowing at you, with no look of annoyance.

"We haven't done it yet, I just used my fingers." You hold your fingers up for her, spreading them, making her blush when a string of her juice stays connected between them.

"Oh, why haven't we done it?"

"Because someone didn't listen to Binnie and took my capsule." Arin's blush deepens, slightly chastened by your words.

"I thought it would be okay if I just took half, I couldn't wait after hearing you and Yooa unnie, and then walking in on you and Mimi unnie... I thought it would make me, I don't know, cum harder so I could get over it."

You smirk and slowly get on top of her, you drop your shorts and boxers, revealing your raging erection to Arin. "No, it's my job to make you cum harder, and wait till I eat the other half of the capsule."

Tentatively she reaches out for your shaft, almost scared by the throbbing. "It won't hurt right, it'll feel as good as the first time we did it?"

You line yourself up with her entrance before kissing her. "It'll be even better than that, even better than just now. You just focus on cumming. If you feel good, I'll feel good, and if I feel good, I'll cum in you, and if I cum in you..." Arin smiles shyly, not able to bring herself to finish your sentence.

"Please oppa, please do it." After watching her cum her brains out earlier you can barely restrain yourself any longer. You kiss Arin and plunge into her, muffling your relieved moan of finally being inside her. You force yourself to slow down, but Arin can feel your throbbing length and see your tortured expression, and she nods meekly. "Go faster oppa, I want to feel you cum in me!"

Arin's plea is replaced with a cry, your bodies meeting with a not too soft clap of flesh. Followed by another, and then another, Arin’s cries growing louder with every passing pound into her. You hug her tight, her moans right in your ear satisfying and heightening your pleasure. A few more rough thrusts, and your tip presses deep inside her before you groan, painting her walls a shade of semen white.

"That felt so good oppa, please, more!" The artificially inflamed heat inside Arin is replaced with a naturally stoked fire, every thrust into her pushing more cum into her and fueling her desires as you ride out your orgasm .

"Good, I have more for you." You reach for the uneaten half capsule and pop it in your mouth. Arin's eyes widen when she feels you get hard again inside her, already pulsating with need. "Cum for me, cum hard, okay?"

Arin bites her lower lip and nods, but almost immediately her lips part in a shout as you fuck her again. This time it is Arin that orgasms first, her body gripping you just like she did to your fingers. You cum soon after her, filling her clenching heat. Yet you wanted more, you wanted Arin to cum hard, you wanted her to groan and grunt like she did earlier, you wanted to send her into heat again, fuck the capsule.

"I'm going to pound you till you're sore, your arms and legs will be tired from clinging on to me, I want you to forget what it feels like to be empty!"

"Yes, do whatever you want—mmph, nngh oppa!" The dirty talk and hard thrusts trigger another orgasm from her, and soon you are glad to see you have reached a tipping point for Arin. She's groaning and grunting again, the pleasure numbing her from any further coherent thought. All she knows is to moan.

Arin’s voice grows hoarse from her frequent vocalizations. Freely she cums, her pussy gripping you incessantly, without rhyme or reason, it was hard to tell when she's finished one orgasm or started another. Freely you cum too, your body jerking every so often as you fire more cum into her. The two of you fight fire with fire, with Arin bucking up into you as you pound down into her—she wants more, so you gave her more, and more, and more...

"Deeper oppa, get deeper, deeper!" Arin holds your face in her hands, somehow knowing that you are beginning to flag in your efforts, the sweat streaming down her face mirroring yours. "Just one more oppa, I'll feel good, and you feel good, and you cum in me, and, and—" she leans in, her scent more intoxicating than ever.

"I'll have your baby."

"Fuck, Arin!" You groan into her neck, thrusting as deep as you could go before you seize up in pleasure, delivering one last virile payload deep into her. Arin finally reacts as you desire, growling and twisting and purring like a satiated cat, the heat inside her finally quenched.  

The two of you pant like you've just run a marathon, and given how much the two of you have sweat, you might as well have. You pull out and collapse on top of Arin—you can feel your load leaking out of her, your post-orgasm erection still pressed against her slit.

"Fuck that's a lot," you mutter to yourself mindlessly.

"It is, thanks oppa, it felt so good, you didn't lie at all." Arin cuddles your head in her arms, planting kisses in your hair. "You can keep a secret right?"

"About?"

"Me eating half a capsule?"

"Just don't do it again! I was really worried for you!"

"Thanks, don't tell anyone, promise?"

"Fine, promise, but you really shouldn't have eaten it."

"Yeah but think about it, if you had taken a full capsule there, it might have been too much for me, or for you! So in a way it is good!"

"Really? Mimi and Jiho both had me take a full capsule, and we were fine."

"What!" Arin suddenly breaks the hug, looking outraged. "I can take a full capsule too! Where's the other one!" Her hand flails wildly over her head, wanting to reach for her bedside table, but you hurriedly settle her down, pulling her hand back.

"No we don't need a full one, I loved every moment of it, you looked so hot I was even harder than normal I think, you're hotter than the capsule, okay?"

"Hmph, make sure you tell Mimi unnie and Jiho unnie that!"

"Sure sure." You kiss her passionately. "You were wonderful."

Arin's cheeks are glowing pink at your sudden intimacy. "You were too—aaah..." Her mouth opens comically wide as she fails to suppress a yawn.

"Did you really stay up all night?"

"I was waiting for you to finish with Mimi unnie, but then her door never opened, and so I went in and saw you two there. So... yes?"

"You should sleep!" You try to pull the covers over her, but Arin stops you.

"Umm... we should shower first oppa, we're kinda sticky." The shower makes you more aware of your soreness, washing away any lingering desires for now, and gladly you wrap Arin up in a bathrobe before kissing her good afternoon, leaving her to take a needed nap.

You return to you and Binnie’s room and crash on the bed, debating if you should take a nap too before your stomach growls angrily—you haven’t eaten yet. One step at a time you make your way downstairs, but halfway down you pick up the smell of food, and you bounce down the remaining steps two at a time. "Please tell me there's something to eat!" you call out to whoever is in the kitchen.

"Oh oppa? Do you want to eat something? We've just started preparing for dinner." Hyojung brightly smiles at you from the dining room. "We can make you something."

"Yeah that would be great, thanks!" You walk into the kitchen to see Binnie and Mimi busy prepping food as well, and you sneak up behind Binnie, hugging her tightly. "Hey."

"Hey, hungry?"

"Mmhmm, make me something?"

"Kimchi fried rice?"

"That would be great." You kiss and hug her tighter. "Just you left."

"I'm going to cook a large plate for you, I want you to be strong for tonight, maybe I'll mix in some of the capsule inside the food, and we can start early."

"Better save it for tonight, I need a bit of rest, but I promise to be good tonight."

"Yah, save the bedroom talk for the bedroom!" Mimi looks at you two witheringly.

"Hah, that's because your bedroom talk is not appropriate outside of the bedroom, Miss 'I'm not safe', such a dangerous 'Agent' hmm?" Hyojung shoots back. Mimi flings a wet glove at her, and the two of them quarrel all the way out the kitchen.

"Go sit, I'll bring you the food soon."

"You're the best, love you."

You eat what she brings you gratefully, and it tides you over till dinner, where you learn to no small horror how open the members are; they pester Arin for every small bit of detail, and you are glad they reserve this for their group chats normally.

"Oppa treated me so well, I just wish he used the whole capsule!" Arin sighs contentedly as she digs into her food.

"He didn't?"

"Yes, only half." Arin admits without thinking.

"What about the other half?" The table goes silent, and Arin's guilt is clearly written on her face.

"You ate the other half didn't you? Are you crazy?"

"I— It was fine! Oppa just got me off a few times before we started, nothing else happened!" They all turned to you for further explanation.

"Umm, she was really needy? But yes you really shouldn't have taken it Arin! She took it before I even entered the room, else I would’ve stopped her!” you add hastily, all of them staring daggers at you, like it was your fault their precious maknae took half a capsule.

"Ugh stupid maknae luck, of course you’re fine. You're doing all the dishes tonight!" Mimi passes judgment for the group.

"What? No that's not fair!"

"Be glad it isn't worse, we can make you do the dishes the rest of the trip!"

"Fine, I'm sorry." Arin mutters sullenly into her food. The rest of the dinner is spent on idle chit chat and Hyojung mollifying Arin, and the group eventually disperses—some of them watch movies, others return to their rooms. Binnie tugs on your sleeve.

"Do you want to, you know?"

"Yes." You follow her up the stairs, and the moment you are out of sight of everyone else you sweep her off her feet, opening the door to your room and depositing her on the bed like a newlywed. Unlike a newlywed though, Binnie pulls you in hungrily, eager to get things started.

!^ (Marker for Binnie)

"Finally!"

"Sorry you waited so long, you could have just put yourself first in the schedule you know."

"Tell my body that, god I was going crazy the past few days."

"Really? You hid it well, I couldn't tell."

"That's because you were in every room but ours." Binnie snaps at you before immediately backtracking. "No, sorry, that's not fair, I asked you to do this for us."

"It's fine, it must have been hard for you too. We're here now, focus on just the two of us." You kiss her lovingly, but after a short tongue wrestle Binnie breaks the kiss, her hands already on your clothes.

"Come on, please just do me already. I was this close to having you push me against the fridge and just doing me in the kitchen!"

"In front of everyone? How lewd!" you tease her, but you quickly strip down as Binnie does the same. She groans when you slip a finger inside her. "Yep, you're ready." Binnie forces the finger into your mouth, making you taste her.

"I've been ready! Can I ride you?" The two of you switch positions swiftly, and with a sigh Binnie immediately sinks her hips on you. "Ahh... so much better than my fingers."

"You should have told me, I would've helped—"

"What, by using your fingers? Not that different. Besides, I know the girls are riding you hard, I was worried."

"Well I'm here now, so it's all ok."

"Yes, my stud, my wonderful little stud, love you."

"Love you too." Binnie rides you firmly, neither fast nor slow, but the passion she kisses you with turns you on more than anything, and eventually you grunt and hold her hips still, pulling her down on you as you fill her with your first load. She moans and shudders through her own orgasm in response, her walls grasping and tugging at you. The two of you lay quietly on the bed together, taking some time to recover before Binnie starts squirming in need again.

"Do you want a capsule?"

"Later, you can keep riding me until you're tired."

"Good, I have so much pent up energy." That she does, and Binnie rides your hard again shaft to a few more peaks of her own. You eventually reach your own peak, spilling inside her as you watch her face turn pink. She collapses against you, drained of stamina temporarily, and you hear her whisper in your ear.

"Can you take the capsule? I want to be... sure."

"Of course dear." You take the capsule she offers you before easily switching positions once more, leaving you on top of Binnie. With one thrust you push yourself into her, and she can't help but groan.

"Fuck it feels even better when you're on top!"

"Cum whenever you want, because that's what I'm going to do," you mutter in her ear, gasping when she reacts viscerally to your words, tightening around you immediately. Driven by the aphrodisiac you ramp up quickly, your slow and loving thrusts giving way to fast and wild jerks of your hips. Binnie's cries are varied, although inevitably they go up a pitch when she reaches a peak, the hug and grip around you becoming just that little bit tighter every time. She looks oh so beautiful with her legs around your hips, or with her legs around your neck, or with her legs spread wide for you.

You slow down eventually, stamina the main factor, your mind the other—it tries to tell you to stop every time you plunge into her cum-filled heat, that your job is done, that you should pause to feel just how viscous and creamy her walls are with your seed. But you didn't want to stop, you wanted to satisfy her.

Binnie knows you better than you know yourself. "Oppa, just one more, don't strain yourself." You grunt acknowledgment and spread her legs further, propping her hips up with a pillow, wanting to get deeper inside her. Binnie grunts and you feel something slightly different on your tip, and as you grind against the spot Binnie she bites her lower lip, trying and failing to refrain from crying out.

"Ahh!" 

"Is that—"

"Mmhmm, it—it's sensitive, slowly please..." Your tip brushes against her cervix as you carefully grind against her, watching her expression relax. "Cum right there oppa, send it straight in me," Binnie whimpers as you continue to grind against her. Over and over you brush against her entrance, and you feel her open up to you, even as she got tighter around your shaft, her walls already trying to milk you, her body reacting needily to yours. You touch your forehead against hers, both of you looking at each other lovingly as the beginning of the end arrives.

"Let me tell you a story."

"Ah! What is it oppa?"

"There's a bunch of kids, they happen to all be born around the same time." Binnie gasps and whimpers, she knows exactly what you meant. "They're all so talented and good looking, they remind people of a famous girl group. They form a co-ed group, and to reference their famous sunbae, they're called Oh My Kids." She moans, and she looks at you desperately, nodding and willing you to continue, to finish the job and the story.

"And they're all our children. The. End!" You groan and grind deep against her, your tip right against her opening as you explode in orgasm, sending virile semen straight into her womb.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Millions of sparks fly through Binnie, setting her alight in ecstasy as the hot seed flying into her triggers her own orgasm, making sure she milks you for everything you have left. You can feel her heart hammer against yours as she hugs you close, both of you finally satisfied, doing what both of you have been waiting to do since day 1 of the trip. The two of you squirm for minutes on end, trying to get every last drop out of you and into her.

"I love you I love you I love you." You think she's the one who's saying it, she swears you mumbled it to her first, but it doesn’t really matter. Murmuring sweet nothings to one another you fall asleep together in a tangle of limbs, letting nature roll the dice millions of times inside Binnie.

You wake up next morning to an empty bed, and you amble downstairs to find all of them waiting for you.

"Where's Binnie?"

"Making breakfast, eat fast oppa!" Hyojung calls out excitedly

"Why, aren't we done with the schedule?"

"Exactly, we are. And we have a few days of the trip left, so now we want to play. While you're busy doing us one by one, we've all been getting pent up again, hearing what you did to each of us."

"Plus it never hurts to be sure does it? We should go again!" Jiho quips, already next to you, and you find yourself getting dragged to the living room. Breakfast never gets eaten, and the rest of the stay devolves into hedonistic debauchery.

With copious use of the capsules you fuck them all over and over, as much as you wanted and as much as they wanted, in every way you knew how—you properly fuck loads of cum into Jiho this time; you take Yooa's ass; you test Arin's limits and give her a full capsule's worth of pounding; you let Hyojung scream as much as she wants for all to hear; you fuck Binnie against the fridge just like she wanted; and finally, as you all watch Mimi's adult video, Mimi jumps you again in front of everyone before Agent Seunghee returns with handcuffs that she "mistakenly" cuffs herself with.

You also realize your ultimate fantasy with the help of the capsule as you have them get on all fours side by side—by the time you are done fucking them all from behind, you have left an evenly spaced trail of seven cum puddles on the floor, each courtesy of your load left in each of them.

Of course, the girls don't just take it lying down, or on all fours, or standing up, or however else you fucked them. They use you for their own pleasure as well, often jumping you in the shower or while you were watching a movie. Sometimes it creates a chain effect, leading to some absolutely obscene circumstances.

"Unnie, why am I the one filming!"

"Because there's no space left on oppa, and you're the maknae!"

"But I'm the maknae!" Arin whines, the camera shaking as she gets wetter by the second looking at the scene in front of her.

"It's okay Arin, put down the camera, we can share oppa's face." Even as she gets eaten out Hyojung plays the role of the leader well, and you are faced with another pussy to lick as Arin settles on top of you as well, the two of them alternating who you should eat and lick next.

You don't have the capacity to think, your entire body working on autopilot—on either hand you have Binnie and Seunghee humping themselves mad on your fingers, and if you weren't blocked by Arin and Hyojung riding your face, you would see Jiho's pert cheeks bouncing in your lap as she fucks herself on your cock, all while squeezing and rubbing Yooa and Mimi for you, who are grinding themselves on your legs. The pleasure becomes too much and you cum up into Jiho far too quickly and intensely, triggering a cacophony of cries. By the time the blood stops pounding in your head you realize you are covered in the lewdest mixture of seven different types of juice.

And that was just one vivid memory among many.

Eventually your time together with them in the cabin comes to a close, and you leave before them to not arouse any suspicion on the way back. With passionate kisses you bid them all good bye, and it is only a day later when you notice a new article about them.

Oh My Girl members walking bowlegged out of company building, intense training indicates a comeback may be happening soon?!

You half snort at the article—it was intense, but it certainly wasn’t training. Nor was there any chance of a comeback any time soon, not if everything went as Binnie planned.

Regardless of the speculation, you moved in with Oh My Girl a few months later, and you fucked them happily ever after.

The End.

A/N 2: And the end! Smut is fantasy anyways, so I’m just ending it like a fairy tale, happily ever after.

This concludes the OMG series, obviously I’ll still write more for them in the future (like Penpal is separate from this series entirely), but this idea seemed like a good one to end it on. I tried to reflect or include some reference to previous stories of them in the series, so that this one is sorta a microcosm of the series as a whole. Also I just wanted to do a dumb mic drop and just have the whole group be in the fic.

I know Yooa’s solo is called Bon Voyage in English, but in Korean it translates to Forest’s Child, which fit the breeding kink better, naturally.

Random but I love how Binnie’s in the center for the group pics.

In any case, I hope you enjoy the bite-sized smuts, thanks for reading, and happy new year!

[youryanderedaddy]

Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit. 

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience. 

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were  calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it. 

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a  half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others. 

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism. 

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve. 

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

 ***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place. 

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire. 

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

[blythebitez]

BITEZ//

Mahito // Jujutsu Kaisen

SFW//

TW: toxic relationship

//Mahito is incapable of love. An emotion so overbearing as love being in a curse’s soul is rare at it’s self, down right almost IMPOSSIBLE. So it’s no surprise that Mahito is incapable of love.

//Just because he is human shaped doesn’t mean he’s an actual human. Don’t forget that. He doesn’t love you but he is- INFATUATED with you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re just another toy for him to play with until he gets bored.

//But... YOU’RE HIS TOY UNTIL HE’S FINISHED WITH YOU! Don’t try to leave him, run away, or have someone else behind his back. He’s the one who gets to decide when it’s over.

//That being said, he does enjoy a good chase. So if you do plan to run do it in a fun way! Pull out all the stops! Be willing to die! Do something reckless! It makes him want you even more! The more you fight, the probability of him keeping you alive longer goes up.

//He loves your expressions! He thinks they’re the funniest thing in the world. He would twist his head back like an owl if you called him to see your look of fear. He’d completely shame you just to see you cry. Then comfort you trying to get you to smile through your tears

//If his toy does break before he’s finished playing with you. He’d shrug it off, he’d be sad at your death but only because he wasn’t the one to kill you off.

//As much as he’d like to deny it human affection is fun to him, and it makes him feel warm. So he’ll demand it from you.

//Once he’s on you HE DOESN’T LET GO. he’s always so close, always hugging you, always cuddling you, basically a leech on your side.

// At first he kissed you to see your reaction. If you got uncomfortable you just showed him a weakness and he’d exploit it. Kissing you every chance he got.

// It wasn’t until he found out he enjoyed it he continued doing it, disregarding your feelings

//He enjoys reading with you. He hasn’t been around long and reads with you next to him on his chest.

//He doesn’t need to sleep but he’ll spend his time watching you sleep. Just to see your expression in the morning when you see the different colored eyes staring back at you and a crazed smile.

//Dates are rare. He’d probably only go on one for the experience after reading a romance novel. He’d take you somewhere fun like the beach or an amusement park!

//(If he gets bored he’d probably kill a few people out in the open)

//You better answer his texts on time! And by on time I mean in the next five seconds no matter what you’re doing. He’s impatient and he’ll spam you or he’ll find your location and take you back home with him.

NSFW// (Fem reader)

TW// Breeding kink // Public sex // Sloppy sex // Spit play // Non-con // Choking // R-O-U-G-H

//Upon... Discovering how humans reproduce he gets curious and starts wondering if a human shaped curse and a human can have a little soul born of their own.

//So, he’ll test it out on you. Since his discovery he’s been drilling at your pussy for days. Getting every single drop of his seed inside of you, filling you whole. With his seed. 

//Most of the time you’ll overflow and gush all over the bedsheets. Mahito loves to watch his seed try to escape your hole. He’ll grab and squeeze your ass cheeks just to see it gush out. only for his fingers to shove the hot liquid back inside of your abused hole.

//Mahito’s Dick was veiny, lengthy, and girthy a pattern of stitches running along it. But it barely keeps it’s original form when it’s inside of you. He likes to be as close to you as possible so he’ll expand inside of you to hear your strains and grunts of pain. He’s done all different types of forms, he likes to experiment!

// Dragon shaped, Tentacles, Hell he’s even formed two and filled you with both at once.

//Soon fucking you became a daily activity for him, not just to see if you could bare his little soul but. Sex was FUN! Mahito’s sex drive skyrocketed since his first time with you. Now it seems he can’t keep his hands to himself even in public.

“N-Not now Mahito! We just did it twenty minutes ag-”

shoved in an alleyway, in broad daylight. The human shaped curse had his hand on your throat and held you against the wall grinning to himself. His grip was loose and gentle for him, but it was bone crushing to a human being. He deprived you of using your vocal cords. 

“I wouldn’t care if it was five seconds ago~! I want to have some fun~!”

You felt his quick hand lift up the end of your skirt and push your panty to the side. A wide smile spread across his face seeing his seed he left in you from earlier. In curiosity he dipped his finger in the mixture of his sloppy seed and your wet juices.

“Hmm~! So good~”

Feeling your slick walls spread open you gushed, nothing but air leaving your lips due to the hand around your throat. You groaned your eyes rolling to the back of your head, his girth and length was inside you once again. around the fourteenth time since you opened your eyes today. Your pussy pulsed against him, begging for release. The soreness and mix of pleasure was to much to handle. He put pressure behind each thrust. Leaning over you, His hot breaths, moans, and giggles in your ear. 

“Hmmm~! My little toy feels so nice! I Love feeling your guts move for my cock~”

“HMM~! That’s it! Suck my cock in with your pretty little pussy~”

He was drilling you faster than a rabbit in heat. Your walls cried and squealed when they parted for his thick length. Your face began to change color begging for air as your fingers wrapped around his hand trying to regain your breath. Tears forming from the corners of your eyes out of pain and embarrassment.  Mahito smiled groaning against your ear seeing you silently beg for air. 

“Let me spit in your mouth and I’ll let goooo~!”

He sung in your ear, as if you had a choice. It was let his DNA slide down your throat or death. It wasn’t like he hasn’t filled you with his body fluids before. You quickly nodded and the male released you giving you a second to breath. You felt his length slide out of you, Your legs trembled and shook. You took a breather thinking he was done.

Only to feel your back being slammed against the brick wall. You were lifted onto the dirty lid of a garbage can. His hands held your legs down and he slammed his lips onto yours. He forced his wet muscle into your mouth, His long tongue sliding down your throat and choking you with his transforming body. His tongue explored your mouth, his hands running up from your legs. They traveled up your belly, over your chest and cupped your plump cheeks that were filled with his tongue. His tongue ran rampant and wild in your wet cavity. 

suddenly he pulled away with a smirk on his face, the long string of saliva connected the both of you. His cheeks puffed up, you closed your eyes knowing what was coming. Once more he slammed his lips against yours and forced your mouth open with his hands.

Squish

Your eyes were filled with disgust staring up into his Different colored hues. His own filled with lust, and glee. He watched as you were forced to swallow his nasty glob of spit. He pulled back a smile took up his face as he leaned forward into your face. both of your noses touching as he looked into your eyes filled with tears. 

One hand gave your head a pet and the other wiped your face clear of tears.

“What a good little toy~”

[detroitbecomeyandere]

More dark Luther

Tw: Non con hcs

Normally Luther is incredibly gentle, he holds you like you are made of glass

He is so patient with you, taking every hit you thrown at him, every swear and insult, every tear you cry, he takes them all in stride

He understands that your new living situation is not ideal, being kidnapped and forced to live with someone you don’t even know is hard on anyone

But like all people Luther has his limits and after 6 months of your behavior you reach his

Luther doesn’t ask for much, all he wants is a little affection from you, a kind word or a hug

 After getting home from a trip to the store where he was harassed by anti android rights activists all Luther wanted was to lay in bed with you and forget the world for a little bit

Instead he is met with a book flying right at his face and your insults and he’s had enough

Before you can even blink Luther is across the room with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat and dragging you back to the bedroom 

He’ll throw you on the bed and climb over you before you get the chance to recover, stripping you of your shirt and tying your hands to the headboard with it

Once secured Luther will let loose all the pent up feelings he has

“I do so much for you and you still treat me like trash, all I want is your love and compassion” he says as he finishes stripping you bare

Luther strips down too and starts roaming his hands along your body, massaging your flesh

You’ll look at him with tears in your eyes “I’m sorry, I’ll be good. Please don’t do this” you plead

Having had enough of your lip he stuffs your underwear between your lips

Reaching between you Luther pushes a large finger inside you despite how dry you are

Luther reveals in the whimpers of pain and the way your back arches as he adds another finger

As he fucks you on his fingers he leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your skin

Once he feels like you are stretched enough for him he pulls his fingers from you and starts pushing his massive cock into you before you have a chance to recover

You thrash around trying to keep him from sheathing himself in you entirely, instead you are rewarded with a hard smack across your face

Luther grabs your thighs and pushes them against your chest, giving him a full view of your twitching hole stretching past it's limit

By the time he is fully inside your whole body is shaking and sobs wrack your chest, feeling like you are splitting apart

Luther rests a second to relish in the feeling of your incredibly tight walls clench around him, a groan coming from deep in his chest

Throwing your legs over his shoulders Luther pulls out nearly all the way only to slam back into you, knocking out any air left in your lungs

He sets a brutal pace, not caring how you feel. Taking all his pent up anger and hurt out on your body, using you to find his own release

After what feels like a lifetime to you Luther's pace stutters, his grip on your thighs almost breaking your skin

With one last harsh thrust Luther releases his load so deep inside you your sure you can never be clean again

As Luther shoots ropes of thick cum he gently peppers kisses across your skin, a contrast so large it has your mind reeling

Keeping himself inside you Luther pulls your makeshift gag from your lips and unties you

Luther shifts so you both can lay down, running his hands through your hair and rubs soft circles into your thighs, shushing you as you sob into his chest

~Beau