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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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there's trouble in paradise. but lucky for you, your other half would do anything for you. anything. (arranged-husband!simon x fem!reader)

previous part (recommended read, but not required)

cw: reader is described as plus-sized/curvier, dark!reader, dark!simon, unhealthy relationship dynamics (both of you are so fucked up inside), horror movie vibes, themes of obsession + possessiveness + psychopathic behavior, military criticism, mature language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence, mentions of simon's canon trauma, voyeurism, smut, piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving), breeding kink 18+ (this piece is very dark and includes the encouraged murder of someone innocent -> read at your own discretion)

if simon is anything, it is that he's...unpredictable. except for how he spends his mornings.

you close your eyes when you feel his warm hand on your jaw. your head tilts back, and you part your lips, knowing what will come. your hear the shuffle of fabric, and then you're kissed, a sloppy kind of kiss, a harsh tongue slipping into your mouth and tracing your teeth.

it's aggressive, his kiss. he doesn't try to savor the taste, he just takes. his teeth hit yours sometimes, but he doesn't apologize. just cradles your head in a different direction and continues to shove his greedy tongue down your throat.

you chase him when he pulls away. he chuckles, the bastard, and when you open your eyes, he stands tall behind where you sit. you smile up at him, opening your mouth obediently, and you take two of his fingers and suck. the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you lap at the callouses. it feels good to be full of him, in any way he will give.

you like having some part of him inside of you, always. it makes you feel whole. complete. incredibly satisfied, a cup full of liquid, blood touching your tongue.

"good morning," simon murmurs, glaring down at you almost. if you didn't know him, you'd take his expression for ire, but you know it's just the intensity of whatever sits in his chest. "worried when y'weren't in bed."

you flutter your lashes, and simon palms at your throat, bending lower. you want to nibble on his scarred bottom lip, but he holds you at such a length to keep you away. you pout a little.

"don't do tha' again," he tells you. it is a warning. someone else might take this too literally, too harshly. as if he was commanding you, and he is, sort of, but they wouldn't understand. no one would understand. "y'hear?"

you nod.

"sorry," you whisper, letting his fingers go and kissing them softly. "couldn't sleep...didn't wanna wake you."

he sniffs. he doesn't like what he hears.

"and wot do i always say?" he asks. "hmm?"

you smile a little, looking away, bashful. "that...that i can have whatever i want."

"tha's right."

you giggle, standing from your seat, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. he picks you up from the fat of your hips, hoisting you onto the kitchen table with ease. he knocks your knees apart, stepping between them, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him easily.

"tell me," he commands. "tell me wot's on y'r mind."

you sniffle, dragging your knuckles down his masked cheek. you nuzzle your nose into his, closing your eyes, and he leans into you, wanting more. he reads you well. there isn't a flicker in your eyes that he wouldn't catch. he's too perceptive, too observant, too in-tune with what you are, which is his. it relieves you, in a way. you don't have to lie because he will always catch your dishonesty.

"how come..." you bite your lip. "y-you told me i shouldn't call you. when you're away. s-so...so i send letters to base. but...you never respond."

he tilts his head to the side, cupping the back of your neck. when he finds your eyes, he keeps them, steadying you with a firm grip.

"wot letters?"

you pull back a little, blinking up at him.

"i...i send you a letter. e-every day that you're gone. i-i...i send it to you."

he shakes his head, "swee'eart, i've never gotten a letter."

you swallow, smoothing your hands down his chest. you frown a little, looking down.

"oh..." your heart eases a little. "i...i thought you were ignoring me."

"probably just some bloke tha' doesn't know m'name," simon soothes you. "would never ignore ya. and y'know the number to call in an emergency, but i suppose 'm glad tha' you've never had ta call."

you meet his eyes. dark. purposeful. focused.

"i can take care of myself."

the letters never arrive, even after you double check their address. you show it to him the next time he comes home, the back of the envelope with the address scribbled onto it, and all he does is shrug.

"tha's me, luv," he mutters, pushing the letter aside, hoisting you up against the wall as he kisses you hungrily. "now open up," he growls, shredding your panties with a tight fist as he fucks into you eagerly. "oll f'me, missed y'r cunt..."

simon is nothing if he isn't an insatiable animal. every time he comes home, he fucks you until your vision is nearly permanently blurred with tears and your brain is defiantly turned off. he fucks you dumb, in every sense, and you think he enjoys the way he swipes your drool with a big thumb and sucks it into his mouth with a groan. maybe it tastes different, when you're brainless from another orgasm and saying things that aren't coherent, hips canted up as he continues to pound into you from behind.

but you adore it. you love it. you love him.

it's visceral, what you feel inside. it tears at something delicate. whenever you look at him, you can't help the smile, even if it's small. the way he makes you feel when you look into his eyes--it nearly chokes you. neither of you ever last long. someone always breaks the moment, moving until you are near so that you can kiss feverishly.

you both scramble to be together. when he comes home, he always attacks you as soon as the front door smacks against the wall. you've fucked numerous times on the floor in the foyer, too eager to welcome him back when he goes for weeks on end to even make it to the couch. you love when he practically tackles you to the floor, throwing you down as he gets between your legs, big hand cradled into your hair so it doesn't smack against the hardwood floor. the gesture is so sweet that it makes your eyes tear, even if he's biting at your tits so hard they nearly draw blood.

simon would do anything for you. there is nothing that crosses a boundary, no request that he would not fulfill, no crime he wouldn't commit. he's disgusting, a right prick bastard that you know would enjoy skinning the backs of someone's hands just for your very own amusement. you wouldn't call him a dog--a proper dog respects authority, acts loyal and good and cowers when they have done something wrong.

simon doesn't always listen to you, not really, you don't think he really listens to anyone. but everything he does, he does knowing it is what's best for you. he takes care of you, especially when you're too cock-dumb to make any right-minded decision. he's the center of gravity, and you are his, bringing each other back into balance when you get knocked off kilter. sometimes, this balance requires a sacrifice.

simon is all too willing to give one.

you don't blame him for that. the wiring in his head, it's a little fried, a little frayed. it isn't his fault. he's seen torture. been through it. watched comrades die, tasted his own blood and that of someone else's. he's seen the insides of someone, watched it protrude from the holes in their bodies, sometimes from his own hand. he's just a little rough around the edges, just a little scarred.

no one likes to talk about the fact that servicemen like simon are glorified serial killers. you understand this fact, and you know that if you explained it to simon, he would probably agree with you. but instead of acknowledging the reality of it, you think he might smile. he is given permission by his country, by his king, to kill under the guise of international security, for the common good.

what would we not do to protect our homeland from terrorism and warfare? what necks would we not snap? what blood would we not shed? what would we not do to protect the places where our wives lay their heads and our children play their games?

that is how he would justify it to you. he'd tell you not to worry, that heaven is an idea made up by weak men who don't have the strength to do something about their foe.

you would believe him, if he said that to you. you would smile back at him, kiss him soft, and let him fuck a baby into you just to shut you up.

but this wouldn't change a thing. it wouldn't change what he is. it wouldn't make him any less a murderer, any less a man that takes what he wants. he has a heavy hand, not just in combat, but with you. he does not ask permission, but it wouldn't matter; fortunately, you have the same disgusting urge inside of you, and you practically beg him to take from you.

although, there is one thing that separates you from him. you might carry the disease--the one that makes you indifferent to his violence, his past, his trauma, his crimes. but you don't carry the execution of it. you've never killed anyone. you've never held a gun. sometimes, when someone parks a little too close to your car, you think about what it would be like to put their head behind your tire and reverse over it, but nothing you ever do leaves the horror of your mind.

you are positively boring in that sense. lieutenant simon riley's picture-perfect good girl, his lovely wife. the one that lets him voice his horrendous crimes and sleeps just as peacefully as before because of it. no one would ever know that he's murmured in great detail about how he tortured his latest target, telling you about how he screamed quite loudly when he picked his fingernails off but was rather quiet when he carved tally marks into his forearm.

"was he, baby?" you whisper, sucking soft on the stubble around his jaw. he palms your ass gently, satisfied when he feels the way his cum drips between your folds and wets his hand. he nods, shrugging.

"fuckin' muppet. deserved wot he got."

"i know he did," you agree, nodding, reaching down and starting to pump his length, still wet from your cunt. you mewl when he starts to harden immediately, the blood rushing to his cock as you fondle his balls. "now tell me how much you missed me again..."

it isn't your fault that he gets you this wet just by talking about his aggression. it can't be. it's primal...instinct. ghost is a protector, and you are his wife--you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you safe.

you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you happy.

but you're not happy. he's gone for three weeks this time, a long stretch that leaves you a little lonely and a little on edge. you send him your letters, writing every day about how quiet it is at home, about how alone you feel and how much you miss the space he takes up in your bed. you even miss the amount of food he consumes--you're so used to cooking enough to feed four proper people just for him to scarf it all down and eat your cunt to tell you how grateful he is.

you haven't really been on base since you married; you spent a few weeks there right afterwards, in and out of his bed, practically attached to simon by the hip. it's been a long while since then. he bought you a little flat in london and gave you a nice sleek credit card, and that was that. simon doesn't care for you to spend much time on base. he thinks you too pretty and complains under his breath that you're a distraction, which you are. you're always so caught up with how hot he looks working that you end up underneath him more often than not; simon prefers you at home so he doesn't lose all his fucking energy trying to keep up with you.

you roll down your window, flashing your license at the officer there. he clicks a flashlight on, looking at it, and he swallows hard when he sees the last time there.

riley.

"afternoon, ma'am," he tells you with a nervous smile. "your husband, looks like he isn't here, he's--"

"i know where he is," you interrupt. "but he'll be back soon. just some housekeeping i need to do." you tilt your head to the side. "i don't have to call the lieutenant and tell him you're refusing me, do i?"

"n-no, ma'am."

you slam the door shut after you park, eyeing the motorcycle a few parking spots away. you sigh, clenching your jaw, before swinging your purse over your shoulder and straightening out the front of your jeans. you told him not to ride that fucking thing, the big dummy.

you pass through the offices first, and when you get nearer to where captain price and your husband sit, you stop in your tracks when you see a new little desk set up there.

there's a woman sitting there.

she's got a corded phone held between her ear and her shoulder, and she's writing on a sticky note rapidly, nodding her head as she talks to someone quietly. you tilt your head to the side, watching her, and your lip twitches just enough when she hangs up the phone and stands to put a few files away in a cabinet.

she's wearing a tiny little skirt and stockings, and you run your tongue over your teeth when you get a glimpse at the garter belt she's wearing underneath. you follow the line of her long legs to her kitten heels, and then back up to the blouse and blazer she wears. she turns around, adjusting her sleeves, and you straighten your back when you can see the lace of her black bra underneath the white blouse.

cause who the fuck wears a black bra under white at work?

you adjust your purse over your shoulder and make your way down the hallway, ignoring her as you stop in front of simon's office and look for the key on your key ring.

"oh! excuse me--excuse me!"

you stop looking for the key, turning over your shoulder. the woman is getting up from her seat, hurrying over. she's a tiny little thing, bouncing over to you with an exacerbated face.

"hey--excuse me," she puts a hand on the door. "you can't go in there."

you raise a brow.

"oh, really? why's that?" you ask. she looks you up and down a little, her smile fading a little.

"well...lieutenant riley doesn't like it when people are in his private space. and there's classified material in there, so i'll need to verify if you have the right security clearance."

she twirls a soft curl around one of her fingers, and you flash her an irritated smile.

"oh, well, i'm sure he won't mind if i go inside," you tell her, turning back. you finally find the right key, fitting it into the lock.

"hey--hey! you can't go in there! i'm serious, i'll call security," she huffs. you laugh, turning to face her as you push the door open.

"oh, go ahead," you murmur, stepping closer. you're about the same height, but her eyes are no match for your own. she's alive inside, and you are not. there are places that you can go that she would never come back from, and she flinches a little when she meets your eyes intensely. "in fact, i dare you to call security."

you drop your purse on simon's desk, rounding it and taking a seat in his chair. you open one of the drawers, rummaging through it, and you roll your eyes a little when you find a pack of cigarettes that simon had said he'd thrown out. strike two already.

lying bastard.

you're still rifling through the drawer when the office door bursts open. you recognize one of simon's sergeants, kyle, huffing his chest as he looks around the room with a glare. the woman is behind him, her arms crossed over her chest and making her breasts comically pushed up towards her chin, her eyes narrowed at you. when kyle sees you, he immediately snatches his cap off his head and takes a step back. his posture changes, his back straightening up as he assumes a near soldier-stance.

"fuck, sorry, ma'am," he murmurs. "i didn't mean to barge in that way, i--"

"it's alright, kyle," you say softly, smiling a little. "something i can help you with? simon isn't here right now."

the woman steps back, confusion on her face, and she hides doorway now, out of your sight.

"no," kyle gives you a polite, nervous smile. "apologies again."

you shake your head and shrug, standing up to go close the door. you poke your head out, and she's sitting at her desk again, her expression a little wobbly as she looks up at kyle and uses her hands as she speaks, looking utterly mortified.

"--how was i supposed to know that? she didn't introduce herself--"

"look, you just better hope she doesn't tell him about this. fuckin' kiss her arse or somethin', for fuck's sake," kyle mutters, shaking his head, and you smile to yourself as you close the door completely.

it's a few hours later, while you're smoothing a hand over a report simon has written, when the door opens. you look up from the desk, smiling immediately.

there he is.

simon cocks his head to the side, and you eye the flex of his fists in his gloves. he clicks his tongue, pushing his hood off, and you giggle when he narrows his eyes at you. he's being playful, and you stand, rounding the desk as you hurry towards him.

"well wot's this 'ere?" he chuckles, and you squeal when you jump up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing kisses to his masked mouth, over and over again. he catches you easily.

"simon--" you thumb at his cheeks, letting out a shaky breath, and you laugh when he fists both sides of your ass, squeezing your arse in the nice denim jeans you're wearing. he hums lowly, nosing at your jaw.

"wot are y'doin' 'ere?" he murmurs, reaching up to cradle the back of your head gently with one hand. you kiss him again, feeling how warm his breath is through the mask. you close your eyes, sniffling a little.

"missed you," you whisper, massaging the nape of his neck and pressing your face into the chest of his tact vest. simon rubs at your scalp gently, soothing you.

"y'know i don't like when y'r 'ere," he mutters, and you squeeze him tighter.

"i know," you sigh. "i know...i know, i just...i-i..." you pull back to look up at him. "i-i know, i just...i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "not mad." he presses his mouth to your forehead, kissing it gently, and you close your eyes again. "fancy a cuppa while i debrief, swee'eart?"

"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."

you lean up on your toes to get closer to him, fitting your thumbs under his mask and pushing it up so you can get a good kiss. he smirks before your lips meet his, and you sigh with relief when he slips his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you'd tell him off for it, but instead you keen when he squeezes the back of your neck, and you open your mouth wider for him. he takes full advantage, sliding his tongue over yours before sucking on it briefly. his hand palms at the plush space between your thighs, but he knows better than to touch you right away since he's still at work. if he goes any further, he'll have some explaining to do about his punctuality.

"i love you," you whisper when he pulls away. he kisses you again, just beside your mouth, and then he grins wide.

"sit, luvvie," he mutters, nodding to his desk. "won't be long."

it doesn't bother you that he never says it back. he does love you, in his own way. he never says it, but you know it's true.

you know it.

he takes your hand, guiding you over to his desk, not letting go of you until you're sitting. he winks, catching a few fingers under your chin before making his way out. you sigh, watching him from behind, your eyes raking over his broad shoulders to his waist, the thickness of his thighs and his incredible ass. you're no better than a man in that sense, but it's your husband, and you'll ogle him all you like.

it's your privilege. and your right.

but then you catch someone else's gaze, looking at the same thing. it's her--and she's got her eyes on your man.

you suck in a breath, sinking into simon's chair, and you meet her eyes once simon is gone. you smile at her, knowingly, and she swallows hard visibly, clutching the papers she's holding to her chest and making her way to the door.

"i am...so sorry about earlier," she says timidly. "i-i...had no idea that...i didn't know--"

"it's fine," you say, your voice monotone and unyielding. "glad to know this country's secrets are kept...under great care." you stand, and she comes in, holding out her hand.

"i'll get that cuppa for you, mrs. riley, no need," she laughs nervously.

"oh, so you were eavesdropping?" you ask, and she sputters.

"oh...god, n-no, i--"

"i'm just kidding," you smile again, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "tea would be nice."

she scurries off after that, and you follow her to the door, laughing to yourself as she hurries off towards the break room. you notice the cart she was sitting next to. it's stopped at her desk, and you peek over, seeing that it's the mail. she's got the envelopes on her desk, and it looks as if she was just organizing it all to hand out.

but there's a drawer open at her desk, and your eyes narrow when you see your handwriting on the envelope stashed there.

you round the desk, grabbing the stack that you see, and you let out a shaky breath when you realize these are your letters. the ones that you write to simon, all of them, bound neatly with a rubber band. your lip trembles a little, and you hold them to your chest, blinking back angry tears as you slowly make your way back to simon's office. you shut the door, dropping the stack of letters onto simon's desk, and you think.

she's very pretty. not taller than you, but she's more...conventionally attractive. she doesn't have your plush hips, your soft tummy, but that doesn't make her a villain--but you're just aware of what she looks like, what you look like.

you've never been too insecure, especially not since marrying simon. he never fails to chub up as soon as he sees you; he's hungry whenever he sets his eyes on you, and you know he likes grabbing the extra fat around your hips and holding you. he's so gross about it, but you love it. you love the way he loves you.

but is that what he imagined when he was married? did he imagine a woman with a little more? did he imagine a woman not like you, but a little smaller, a little tinier, easier to carry?

but he can carry you. on more than one occasion, he's thrown you over his shoulder, lifted you onto a surface he then fucked you on, flipped you and manhandled you into various positions he wanted to try. he loves having you on top, loves picking you up from your hips and fucking up into you. he never strains, just grunts from the pleasure and smacks your ass. he's never given you any reason to believe you aren't the most beautiful woman, his prettiest girl, so why are you thinking this way?

no. it isn't you. it's her. it's all her fault; there is nothing wrong with you. a man like simon needs a woman like you--someone not so fragile, someone that has more.

she is without. and you are not.

the insecurity wanes. it turns into something else. not jealousy. it's anger. something hungry.

you fucking hate her.

simon comes in a few minutes later, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a manila folder in the other. he shuts the door with his boot, setting down the mug and folder before leaning over and giving your cheek a little kiss through the mask.

the way he greets you, the light touch he has on you, reminds you of what you are to him. no one else in the entire world is privy to this kind of affection. to simon's affection. it's yours, and yours alone, and if you just open your mouth and tell him what you want, you know that he will give it to you.

she is without. and you are not.

"was thinkin'--" simon stops short when he looks at your face, frowning. the recognition of something amiss is almost instant. "wot's wrong?"

you look up, meeting his eyes, and you think again.

you could say nothing. you could wipe your tears, tell him that you're just lonely and needy, and make him bend you over his desk to get the thoughts out of you. you aren't the violent kind. you're not confrontational. you have already established that you aren't the kind to lash out, to show your teeth. you have the nasty tick, but you aren't the kind to let it fester.

you blink, and simon snarls. you waited too long, and now he knows there is something else on your mind.

"oi," he snaps. "'m tolkin' t'ya."

"s-simon," you whisper, and he reaches over to grip you by the throat. he doesn't choke you, but he holds you firm, dragging you closer to him. "s-simon--"

but it's too late for her, because you're angry. the sickness has already spread.

you stand, forced to walk around the desk, coming closer. he's not happy; there's something bothering his wife, and that isn't allowed. his wife is not supposed to be upset or sad, she isn't supposed to cry unless it's tears of joy, unless her eyes are stinging and wet from how nice his cock feels. a lieutenant's wife is pampered, spoiled, nothing but pleasure and soft sheets and full tummies. it's unacceptable. it's awful, it's terrible, it's not right, and he needs to fix it.

"wot is it?"

"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."

"the letters--" you sniffle, leaning up on your toes, pressing your face against his. "the letters i sent you, t-the ones...you said you never got--"

"i know, luvvie," he murmurs. fuck, he can be kind when he wants to be, when it's for you. "i know, 'm sorry, 'm gonna sort it out for ya--"

"i-i found them," you interrupt, looking away. he follows your gaze to where they sit on his desk. he reaches over and picks up the neat stack, and he flips through them with a huff. he's confused, noting the dates you've written on them. it isn't even all the letter's you've sent, just a stack of the most recent ones.

"i don't--"

"they were in...they were in her desk," you hiccup. "she...she's keeping them from you, she wasn't--" you rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes, and he cradles the back of your head with a big hand. "she doesn't like me."

it's quiet for a long while. simon strokes the back of your neck, easing you into his chest. his touch is light, unbothered, but he's eerily silent as the moments pass. the rise and fall of his heavy breaths lull you, calm you, but then he wraps his fingers into your hair, gripping the strands tight. you swallow a bit from the force of his hand. the gravity of what he might feel, what it might mean, the switch you've flipped.

the thing you've unleashed.

it is the first time that you realize what simon can be for you. it is the first time that you think that it's very possible for you to use simon, to whisper soft in his ear and lick the flames of his need to bite back, his need to strike.

even if what you say is a lie, he'll believe you. maybe he'll even know it is a lie, and he'll convince himself it isn't one just to make things right again. love is blinding, and it is also forgiving. he can deal with the lie later, but not with your dissatisfaction.

"doesn't matter about how she feels about ya, y'r m'wife," he murmurs in your ear. his tone has lowered, something that makes you think this might be how he speaks to his men, the privates he can't stand and the ones that have trouble following orders. "fuckin' disrespectful--" he hisses, tipping your head back with a tug on your hair. he looks into your eyes, wild, cunning, angry. "'m gonna take care of this, swee'eart. y'hear me?"

oh, yeah. that's what you want to hear, that's what you need to hear. you flutter your lashes, mouthing at his jaw.

"i don't...i don't mean to make a fuss, simon, i--" but i do, i want it--

"oi," simon picks you up from under your thighs, dropping you onto his desk. he steps between your knees, pushing his mask up, and you mewl when he licks the tears off your face, kissing you with an open mouth. "y'listen to me..." he sucks on your bottom lip, bringing his mouth back to yours. "won't accept anyone treatin' m'wife this way. disrespectin' you is disrespectin' me. won't 'ave tha'. so look me 'n the eyes 'n tell me ya understand."

you sniffle, nodding, smoothing your hands down his forearms. he narrows his eyes, and you try not to look away from him. it isn't up for discussion. even if you ask him not to make a fuss, he won't roll over on this. there is a certain decorum simon expects anyone that reports to him to have, and if they don't grant it, he doesn't take to it lightly--not from his men, and not from pretty secretaries that didn't do their homework.

"i-i understand," you whisper, and you sputter a little when you stop yourself from saying anymore. he knocks your chin back up, keeping your eyes, and you continue with a wobble in your voice. "she...she tried to kick me out earlier, too." he tilts his head to the side, and you know not to keep a secret anymore. "when i...when i was opening your office, she...s-she didn't recognize me and...she tried to get kyle to make me leave."

he laughs a little, but there's nothing funny about it.

"'n wot did he do?"

"he said he was sorry."

"good. now lie back, swee'eart. 'm hungry, 'n my wife deserves to get her cunt eaten for being such a good girl."

you smile a little, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and he grins back at you. you giggle as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling down the zipper, and you laugh a little more when he picks you up and yanks them off your legs. he puts a hand on your chest and pushes you to lie flat, tossing your legs over his shoulders and sighing.

"missed y'r lil' pussy so much," he murmurs. "m'favorite place ta be."

just like that, the anger is gone. dissolved, sugar in warm water.

you giggle, rubbing a hand over the head of his mask. you arch your back as he mouths over the fabric of your panties, hooking a finger over it and pulling it aside to slurp at your wet folds. you let out a shaky breath, tugging on his mask a little.

"i missed you, too, simon," you whisper. "i-it's too quiet without you."

"i know, baby," he suckles at your clit, coaxing a moan out of you, and he chuckles. "mmm...want ya to cum in my mouth, luv."

you whimper, "i will, simon. anything for you."

"fuckin' hell," he hisses, "don't say shit like tha', makes me fuckin' hard."

"whatever you want, baby," you whisper, and he pushes his tongue into your little hole as punishment, making you squeal and giggle with delight. he smirks from between your thighs, dragging you just that much closer before he starts to bob his head and fuck you with his tongue. you grind against his mouth, locking your ankles behind his back and staring at the ceiling as you ride his face for your pleasure. he's so good, he's so hot, everything you want and more. he loves you, so much, and he will do anything for you.

anything.

"are you going t-to teach her a lesson?" you babble, panting, and simon hums.

"yeah, swee'eart."

"how?"

"hmm..." he smiles wide as he kisses your clit. "how do ya want me to?"

"want her gone, simon," you gasp, forcing his mouth back into your pussy, slick coating his chin. he follows your direction, smoothing his hands up your stomach, thumbing at your perky tits.

"mmm..." he's so pussy-drunk, his tongue flattening between your folds and teasing you warmly. you're so wet, slick coating your folds, and he''s starting get messy, his face glistening as he concentrates on the only task that matters. "woteva y'want, luv."

"r-really?"

"i asked ya to cum in my fuckin' mouth, and y'r about to," simon snaps. "when i say it's done, it's done. when my wife asks for somethin', she gets it, do you fuckin' understand me?"

"yes! yes--" you hiccup. you're so stupid. so dumb to think that simon would refuse a request that you make. pretty, dumb girl to think that whatever you say isn't his gospel.

you want her gone. you do. and you want simon to do it for you. you want him to stuff his fingers into your cunt with one hand and hold her at the wrong end of his gun with the other--

there's something wrong with you, right? right?

"why are y'still thinkin'?" simon growls, leaning up and over you until he can kiss you nasty. his face is soaked, and you moan when he slides his tongue over yours, practically spitting in your mouth as he slips two fingers into you with ease. "my wife isn't supposed ta think."

you let out a shaky breath, nodding, cupping his cheeks and kissing him back.

"yes--o-okay, 'm sorry--"

"stop thinkin'. nothin' ta think about when y'r mine."

and he's right. you always use your brain too much, you always end up thinking when you should just be listening, responding, letting him move your body this way and that way.

simon is always right. always.

you kiss him again, soft and shaky breaths. you reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sighing as you guide his fingers until he's pressing on that little spot that makes your toes curl.

"ahhh...right there, yeah?" he smirks, and you nod, your fingers touching his lips.

"not enough," you whisper, and he tsks, shaking his head.

"never is," he mutters. "my mouth or my cock, baby?"

you giggle, and he kisses you, swallowing your laughter. you breathe into the kiss as you reach down and start to undo the button of his cargos and unzip him, palming at his bulge and squeezing it lovingly.

"not even a question," you purr between kisses, and he chuckles, deep and heavy, shoving down his pants just enough to pull himself out. you arch your back just at the sight, knowing how big he'll feel and how much he'll stretch you out. it's such a familiar feeling that you adore chasing, and you love the way your brain muddles whenever he sinks deep. your toes curl just thinking about how deep he'll get today with how wet you are. not that you aren't wet always when simon is around, but there's just something so sexy about your husband wearing all his gear and promising to rid the earth of vermin just for your contentment.

"'s alright, mama, i know 'ow much ya like bein' full o' me..." simon smooths a finger over your clit, licking his lips when he sees you clench around nothing. he slaps his tip there, watching you squirm, and he growls a little when you spread your fingers in a V and show off to him how wet you are.

"stop teasing and make me a real mama," you giggle, and simon tilts his head to the side, leaning over you.

"is tha' a challenge, m'dear wife?"

you meet his eyes, lovely and lingering, and you shake your head.

"no," you whisper, because fucking isn't a challenge, not for him. "a-a request."

he smiles, so wide, and you reach down and grip his forearms tight when he slips into you. you're dripping, a soft squelch sounding as his hips meet your thighs, and you cup his face as he settles his weight over you.

"y-you've never looked at her...have you?" you ask into his ear.

"at who, baby?"

"her," you whine. "you know w-who i'm talking about, don't play stupid, simon--"

"shh--" he clamps a hand over your mouth, hissing a little. he shakes his head, annoyed, and he shifts inside of you until he's hitting your cervix and making you cry into his palm. "'m a right bastard, baby, but tha', i'd never do." he chuckles. "got a tight arse, tha' one, but she's not you. she's not my girl."

tears prick your eyes. you're not sure if it's from the hint of jealousy that sears through your chest or the way you clench around him, but it's all too much suddenly.

he leans forward, sliding his hand off, gripping you by the throat now as he kisses you wet and hazy.

"'s y'r face i think about when 'm gone," he murmurs. "y'r cunt tha' gets me fuckin' hard. y'r fat tits that make me drool, swee'eart, ain't no one else 'n the world tha' makes me feel the way y'do, yeah?"

you hold onto him, digging your nails into his back, and he forces your eyes on his as he smiles again.

"ask the boys," simon hums. "ask 'em wot it sounds like when 'm wankin' off at night, ask 'em whose name 'm sayin'--"

"you think about me?" you whimper, and he laughs, cruel, biting his lip as he drags his cock out and then punches it back in, enjoying the way you cry, the look of your slick seeping out onto the desk and wetting his reports.

"got a nasty lil' photo 'f ya," simon smirks. "keep it right here--" he pats the spot over his heart, and your mouth opens when he squeezes your throat just a little tighter. "can finish in fuckin' seconds, baby."

"y-yeah?"

"boys like t'borrow it sometimes," he murmurs, slipping a hand down and pressing down on your lower stomach before giving you a nice roll of his lips. you squeal a little, his palm meeting the tip of his cock, and he chuckles. "ya just look so pretty, luv. johnny fancies y'r cunt, the good lad, but i think price is a fan of that fat arse--"

"s-simon--"

"gaz is such a sap--" he grits his teeth, gripping your hips with both hands, starting to give it to you a little faster, a little harder. the desk rattles a little under the force of him. "says your mouth is divine, but fuck, who can look at anythin' else when y'r cunt is out, aye?"

"t-they like me?"

simon grins, eyes bright and a little crazy. "course they do, luvvie," he runs his tongue over his teeth, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at you. "y'r a bloody sight for sore eyes. 'f ya think these boys want her, y'r mistaken--" you bite your bottom lip. you should be disgusted. you should be upset that your husband touches himself to your picture and lets his men peek over his shoulder, but you're not. you smile, eyes sparkling, and you widen your thighs to try and take him deeper. "--want you, swee'eart. want wot's mine, but they'll never 'ave it. never 'ave wot belongs ta me. can look, but they can't fuckin' touch, cos it's mine."

you moan, dragging your nails down his forearms, and he curses under his breath as he picks up the pace again. he's starving--it's been weeks without you, weeks fucking his fist to the same picture of you that barely does you any justice. he drools at night, practically choking on his spit as he thinks about you in every position, how easily he can bend you and fold you, how wet you get whenever he talks into your ear about the blood, the murder, the terrible things that stain his hands.

he knows what it does to you, when he confides in you. the truth of it all, the truth of what he really is, it makes you weak. it rattles you down to your bones, it makes your eyes roll back into your head, makes your legs squeeze together and your pretty pussy flutter. he thinks maybe you like knowing that simon is dangerous, but he'd never put a hand on you. or maybe you like just knowing that he can--that he's capable of terrible, awful things, and he chooses to come home to you.

every single time.

it's a vice. you're the vice, more than cigarettes, more than the thrill of getting onto his bike, more than the adrenaline he chases when he's outnumbered twenty to one with nothing but his throwing knives.

there's a thread between you. there's a line that connects him to you, something that has always been there, pulled taut as soon as he put that ring on your finger and gave you his name. it's the thing that always makes it hard to breathe when you're around him. it's what makes it impossible to look into his eyes and not see yourself looking right back at you. it's the terrible realization that your husband is black and blue on the inside--

and so am i.

this kind of love is different. it's not fleeting, it's not gentle. it's canine teeth tearing into skin. it's claws in something soft, ripping it apart. it's the joy in doing what isn't right, the benefit of yourself in favor of the benefit of all.

simon would burn the world for you. even if it meant you were all that was left--even if it meant that everyone in it burned, too.

the world should be grateful that simon is only taking one fucking secretary instead of them all.

when simon lifts your hips just that much, your head spins. he always fucks so good, but you're spiraling into a headspace that's making it hard to focus your eyes. you're arching your back to get closer to him, but you're at his mercy, his hands pressing on your thighs just that much to get you just a little more open, just that much more spread out, and you cry when he leans over you, the hair surrounding his cock rubbing against your clit just enough.

"ahhh--fuck, y'r so fuckin' tight, baby--" simon groans, shaking his head. "y'r gonna cum--can feel it, yeah--" he leans his head back. "y'know the rules, luvvie, know the fuckin' rules--"

you have to cum before him, he won't let you have it if you don't cum first--you're so close!

"let 'er hear ya," simon chuckles, all mean, all bite. "let 'er hear 'ow good y'r husband gives it t'ya, how well a riley takes it, let 'er hear--"

fuck, it hits you fast. you're seeing spots, floating for just long enough until you feel him fuck his cum back into you. he barely stops, quickening his pace to finish just to make it that much messier. you think he likes dirtying his desk, making it reek of sweat and musk and heat so he can bask in it later. or maybe he just wants to get back between your thighs, his favorite place in the world, the only quiet from the voices that taunt him in his head.

when he pulls out, he makes you eat it off his fingers. he pulls his gloves off, stuffs his fingers into you, and then puts them back between your lips. he hums as he stares down at you, lapping between his knuckles, and he leans down to murmur in your ear.

"gonna sort this out, luv. promise ya tha'."

he doesn't see acceptance in your eyes when he tells you this. he didn't expect to see that. there is no need to accept the things that you already know, what you already understand. simon doesn't speak in metaphors. he's not interested in riddles, and he doesn't like reading between the lines.

he sees the thrill. he sees your excitement, the joy, the warm rush of approval that washes over you, and he smiles when you lean in to kiss him, all soft, all tender, whispers of affection that make his cock hard all over again.

you want to pity the girl waiting outside. she would've lived longer if she had just shut her fucking mouth.

#cod #call of duty

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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I think you could write a fantastic Jamil story since you write obsessive love trying to play normal so well. Like he is self-aware enough to know that his possessive and obsessive wants are not super healthy, but also selfish enough to not fully fight them. He I think the snapping point would be the reader bringing up that only those with the family name Viper are held to servitude, so Jamil can just take someone else’s last name, and “hey, I’m the only (last name) in twisted wonderland, why not take mine so you can be free and then the (last name) family won’t die out?” Like ok pookie, you gave me your last name so now I’m going to clean your entire house, make every meal you eat (so your entire well-being is based on me), and brainwash all your friends into telling me your type and the things you like so I can fully rizz you into marrying me. Just gotta keep the offer for the last name real, yknow?

to write for jamil viper aaaa what a dream!!! (*≧∀≦*) god i really would love to someday! he’s in my top 5 for twst characters. continuously rolls between spot 4 & 5 with idia. 🖤🖤

i do have two abandoned wips for jamil from 2022-2021 era. Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

one of them was a yokai fic with jamil as a uwabami. currently reading american gods by neil gaiman and it’s been giving me heavy nostalgia for that abandoned project — biliqus section in somewhere in america especially. what i intended to do was modern day japan with an old god, jamil viper, who charms with a honeyed tongue and slippery words. then, the irl onuma lake legend about uwabamis would be the framework. miss you jamil wip i miss you ╥﹏╥

the second one wip is: assassin reader paired with jamil viper, just a bunch of funny incidents of jamil having to stop reader from killing kalim, him seething bc he wants HIS revenge arc and some stupid assassin is trying to mess that up. meet cute? but it’s an assassin trying to brutally kill the man you’re trying to brutally kill but with a bit more tack

BUT BUT i love this idea of jamil having possessive wants that he knows aren’t healthy and tries to subdue them. oh and the reader offering up their last name!! OH positively swooning （ ๑✧∀✧๑ ）imagine him pining for so very long and the reader just lets this idea slip from their mouth, not guessing the repercussions.

all it takes is one planted seed to create an odious, poisonous tree in the mind of jamil viper. and he’s sure calculate out how to foster such a seed!!

one thing i like to imagine playing off this scenario is jamil brainwashing in tiny increments friends or classmates to give information about your type OR,,, say you complained about a friend’s habits, stress from crowley/grim, anything of the sort that is a metaphorical pebble in your shoe, jamil is on the case to take care of it with his UM. both of you live such strenuous lives, isn’t it time to take back a bit of that freedom?

be selfish with him. he’s the man who you will wed after all. it’s only right to live deliciously and without resistance.

#twisted wonderland #twst #my asks

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

Text

[ Monsters List ] - Sensitive info with targets abilities

A/n: Not my usual writing at all! these details are relationship stuff each character has with the reader that isn’t shown in the main story. (Some details are omitted to avoid spoilers). Now that this is done, I’ll be going back to the main story line now ^^. If i’m missing any warnings, please say so.

Pairing: [Monster!Twst x Reader] Featuring, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, Silver, Rollo, & Neige.

Summary: Dear, [Name], Crowley just informed me he did not give the courtesy of listing all the beasts and their abilities into your possession, please allow me to be the one to aid you. Here are bullets of their names and prowesses, as well as species. Please, do stay safe and out of trouble, and remember to eat and sleep well. Love, From, Rollo.

“Did it send?” “I… I’m sorry Sir Rollo, it seems we were unable to reach [Name] in time…” “…What.”

Warnings: Some fuffy and some aren’t, Stalking, Mentions of Nsfw (Vil). Zombies (Ace, Deuce), Biting (Ace, Deuce, and Jamil), Squeezing? (Jamil, Floyd), Hints of possession in each section, Blood Drinking (Epel, Jade, Lilia), They’re all monsters that are evil so… Murder, Kisses (Kalim, Floyd, Malleus), Blood,

Prologue Chapter

Riddle Rosehearts [ Ghost ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic. [ Magic is a mystery in the field, all that is known is it’s abilities monsters have that aren’t typically in their species skillset, as well as being especially powerful to utilize it ]

- He posses the abilities of, phasing, possession, kinesis (many different kinds), invisibility, telepathy, and short moments of time where he can have a physical body. He tends to forget he’s a ghost leading to numerous times where you’ve accidentally injuried yourself and he rushes to your side to give aid, only for his to hand phase through you instead of truly helping. He feels guilty not being able to help you.

There’s a secret part of him that feels less guilty and more angry, about being incapable of touching you all the time. Sometimes, he wishes he was Ace just so he could wrap some part of him around you, but alas, he can only do so in short intervals, which just… isn’t enough.

- Has a habit of just, watching. You’ve caught him at your window at night. He insists coming in without permission is unlawful, to which you tell him looking at you through glass is just plain creepy. You now invite him for tea parties, yet that still doesn’t stop him from longingly gazing through the glass that separates you two. (freak)

- Glows a bright red when he’s either angry or extremely flustered. You walked in one time when the former was happening and were temporarily blinded, in your own temporary home no less…

With the latter… he was helping you figure out a crossword puzzle from a lost book you had found during the night. When he helped you figure it out, he swears your smile was so bright he was blinded. In your case, at least you didn’t need a lantern to see the page anymore.

- He has numerous stitches on his body, his mouth, his neck, and his heart, or at least, where it would’ve been had he still had it. In the short times when he decides to take on a physical form, he enjoys letting your hands trace over the numerous threads through his skin… He won’t admit it, but it’s a comfort.

- When he’s working, his exposition completely changes. You get scared of him, you forget just how determined he is to being the pinnacle of perfection, even as a monster.

- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death.

Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade [ Zombies ]

- Infectious Bites. There have been many close calls where the two almost bit you, secretly hoping to turn you into them in their delusions of being with you forever, it never works though cause when they try, you turn and give them a smile that haunts them so bad they can’t bear the thought of you hating them. The idea always rears its ugly head back to them, but then you treat the two like a regular human and, unknowingly, save yourself just a little longer.

- Anatomy Control (Disassembling limbs and still having control). Deuce has a very common occurring tendency, that leads him to lose his limbs on occasion. He can still feel what they feel, but when they separate from him, they tend to have a mind of their own. There have been several times where you’ve been the one to return a limb, typically his hand, and he’s all fidgety cause it just refuses to let go of you.

“I… I promise this doesn’t usually happen…! I have no idea why it won’t let go of you” with how lovingly it was stroking your hand earlier (which you won’t mention to Deuce)… You’re not too sure either… Does it like the feeling of warmth? “Next time this happens, just… Feel free to stab it” he looks dejected, but you accept his offer nonetheless.

- Ace has asked to sleep with you in your bed because his grave is so cold and lonely. You wouldn’t want him dying alone a second time right? That’s too cruel. He was surprised when you accepted, even more so when you said there weren’t rules like “You have to stay on this side of the bed!” or “Don’t touch me!”, he asked you if you had a thing for him, to which you only quirk up your eyebrow at his question.

“Hm…? I’ve slept with someone before, I don’t think it’s that serious.” … What. Who’s this someone?! He doesn’t end up sleeping as he’s left wondering who you’ve been with before him, little does he know this someone was just a reserved monster hunter who was watching over you with a fever.

- They’re the most attached to you, in a physical sense. Considering at least one, or even more, of the limbs on the duo is just bones, along with Deuce missing an eye and Ace missing part of his face, it’s a bit hard for them to go out without giving people a heart attack. So… They break into wherever you’re temporarily staying, which is typically an abandoned house, and accompany you in every location they possibly can. One very worrying thing they do, is stick their limbs in your bag. They won’t admit it but, it’s cause they miss you. You need to tell them sticking Ace’s eye in there to keep watch is NOT okay.

- Survival: Eating Humans

Cater Diamond [ Ghost…? ]

- Phasing, possession, invisibility, telepathy. Though you don’t see him use any of these capabilities very much. You wonder why but never go through with asking him, how could you when he looks so happy to be in your presence? At least, you think he’s happy. You can never tell if it’s genuine or not… His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes like everyone else…

- Whenever he decides to spend his time with you, his face is never close enough in view for you to decipher any real features of his. What color are his eyes? What does his nose look like? Is the diamond you remember on him even there? The basics of a face are in your memory, but you can never remember the more eunique traits of his. You… Don’t know why that is at all. It feels like you’re forgetting something from the first meeting you had with Cater, but your suspicions tell you it had something to do with his face.

- Even though he’s a ghost, it feels like he forgets something about that sometimes… It’s different from Riddle, who simply forgets he no longer has a physical body, it’s like he doesn’t remember he even died in the first place. You’ve seen him all alone, the sunny disposition he proposes to everyone is gone, a hollow feeling in his vicinity. You couldn’t hear it clearly, the only word heard at all being sisters.

- The moment he sees you it’s like he’s scrambling to change his disposition, walking up to you casually as he mentions how cute you look today, ahh you should take him shopping! He’ll be discreet don’t worry—

“Cater, how did you die?”

“Wha—? W-who cares about that, come on just take me to town kay’?” you do end up bringing him as he points at things he’ll never be able to use, commenting on how cute they would be to have and show off, even attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulder before laughing off at his arm phasing through your body and making your spine shiver.

You don’t miss the way his laugh is more forced than usual, and obvious distress at what happened. Why is he so upset he can’t touch you? Is there a reason he wants to so bad? For once, you wanna know.

“Cater, lets go on a date again.”

“I didn’t know you were so up-front…! But, if you’re asking then I just can’t say no can I?”

- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death(?)

Trey Clover [ Frankenstein ]

- The sight of a giant, buff, green, adult man, hovering over you like a doting boyfriend as you bake is certainly a domestic sight to behold. Though it becomes less heartwarming when you remember this scientifically resurrected man is 8 feet tall, he can basically reach the top shelf when he’s kneeling.

- Just like the zombies of Heartslaybul, Trey can disassemble his limbs, but he has more control over it than the other two… You’ve had a fair share of moments where you’re trying to eat and a stitched up hand crawls towards you with a piece of cake., it’s sweet, but horrifying in the dark.

- He’s a glorified brick wall, if brick walls could also fight back at insane speeds. You watched him unintentionally scare off another Monster Hunter once, they weren't intimidated by his size at all, even attempting to throw a punch at him to show off. Their try immediately backfired as Trey stood unfazed, watching them run away cradling their hand. Before you can blink, Trey’s already towering over you asking if there was a pastry he should try making for you. Honestly… You need to tell Crowley to hire better employees.

- Trey has electrocuted you once. Totally unintentional on his part, but if someone asked him what he thought when he did it, he would tell them with a soft smile you look cute. Meanwhile, you’re on the other side of the room trying to make sure Trey doesn’t increase the voltage next time he tries holding you. Everytime he attempts to do just that, you’re quick to jump out the way. He’ll smile softly but he can’t deny he’s a little disheartened... Seems he’ll just have to rebuild that trust.

- Despite all the stitches on his body, unlike Riddle, there aren’t open wounds on his body, so he’s technically the only one who can accompany you without drawing too much attention. It’s a secret kept between the two of you, but whenever you head into the square, you both walk to as many bakeries as possible, tasting whatever you can afford. Whenever he put something in his mouth, he’d make an offhand comment about his family. You wonder… How did Trey even resurrect like this?

- Survival: Undocumented

Leona Kingscholar [ Beastman Mummy ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- His skin is wrapped in so many bandages, all of them he can bend at his will. You’re curious as to what he looks like under the fabric, but one glare and the feeling of binds grappling around your body is enough for you to reconsider. That’s only if you attempt to look underneath, if not, he’ll sit in silence as you admire each carefully placed bind, cracking an eye open to watch you close in on him in curiosity.

- Watching him manipulate sand just to make places to sleep is entertaining, but being dragged into his timeframe of napping is surely not. The grip he has on you is ironclad as the two of you lay on the grainy bed, if you complain about sand getting into your clothes he’ll make a sly suggestion of “Just take off your clothes” before retreating into a slumber that you can’t shake him from. Even if you did decide to do that, how would you even take them off…? He won’t let go of you…!

- Despite being a former corpse, if he was still mortal, he’d essentially be an ultimate being. He’s super strong, fast, he’s quick at recovering, and even if you did cut off a limb of his he’d regrow in just half the time it took to get it off him. To make it worse he’s handsome, has an air of nonchalance, and a prince. You can just imagine the sound of Crewel and Rollo nagging at you for thinking such heinous things about a beast you’re meant to be killing.

- Whenever Leona controls the dead, you hide behind him. Not because you’re scared of his army, but because they remind you of Ace and Deuce, and you’d rather not see versions of themselves not heed danger whatsoever. You were half awake one time when he summoned corpses, your blurry eyes mistaking two of them for Deuce and Ace, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and pulling them into you. You only realize it’s not them when Leona grabs your from behind and hoists your body onto his shoulder like a sack.

“Wrong Zombies.” he makes an effort to have you sleep more before you accidentally kill yourself for such a small error.

- That little pain inducement ability he has? It sucks. It’s funny when he uses it to telepathically pinch Ruggie when he’s away. But, being reduced to a puddle of pure hurt and strain is the worst. Just watching Leona use it makes you remember… nevermind. Seeing his victims fall to their knees as he drains them of their life force is depressing, the burden of your defeat rearing its shame when he just knocks back and naps as their bodies turn to sand.

- Even when his tail wraps around your leg in a form of adoration, you can’t help but feel disdain for yourself remembering all those who are now dust on the ground because of him.

- Survival: Feeding off vitality

Ruggie Bucchi [ Werehyena ]

- Please tell Ruggie to stop tracking you with his senses and your stolen possessions, you’ve been scared too many times by him popping up out of nowhere. It’s even more horrifying in the night since his face looks so scary (His happy face looks the same as his hunting face. Don’t tell him though, he’ll rob you of your belongings in pettiness.)

- His eyes are so hypnotizing, both poetically and realistically. You’ve seen him mesmerize loving couples into handing over their belongings in his human form, only to revisit them later in the night to consume the rest of his steal. You asked him once what the point is in getting their stuff in the day only to kill them in the night, and he just smiles before softly placing a piece of bread on your lips.

You never take the bread from his hands, allowing him to feed you himself all the time, feeding you with the same hands stained with a bloody ending to a romance story. Maybe… it’ll get his pension for praying on lovers to soften, the thought of having his own might put his thoughts to bay… Who are you lying to that won’t happen, it’s how he lives, and how he will continue to live.

You know it won’t change when he’s desperately trying to hide the red stains under his nails.

- He’s very keen on being in your vicinity. No reason, you think, but he’s just always there, talking to you like normal. Which is weird, why does it feel so normal? The more you ponder it, maybe he’s more natural in your life cause of how equalized he is. He’s laidback yet cunning at the same time, not too good, but not too heinous (if you ignore his murders.) It’s a nice change of pace from people who see, to be heavily relent on one trait. Even though with a kinder personality feel weird… So, talking to Ruggie is a nice escape—

“Ruggie, did you take my wallet again?”

“How’d you think I paid for that bread? Shihihi— Augh! Ow okay I'm sorry—!” he makes it up to you by giving you his portion of food. You pretend to take it out of pettiness, but late at night when he’s sleep, you wrap it up and leave it on his bedside for when he goes hungry in the night.

When he does wake up, he knows who left the meal by his side, including the extras that lay next to it.

- Survival: Eating anything he can get his hands on

Jack Howl [ Human…? ]

- You always wondered how Jack got so built. Of course, if it’s from training, you would never undermine his efforts. But, his strength is so hardcore you doubt it’s even humanly possible. There had been a speech from Crowley in town you attended with both Jack and Rollo, all three of you booted to the very back. When you commented on how you couldn’t see, Rollo told you “We could always move forward—” But he’s cut off with shock when he watches Jack effortlessly carry you onto his shoulder, keeping you rested there for an hour straight without complaint, even shifting the way he holds you depending on what you wanted at the moment.

“We could’ve just gone up there, Jack… Now put them down…!”

“I don’t mind, They seem comfortable here anyway.” You can’t help but laugh at Rollo's overbearing nature, patting his head as you hold onto Jack.

- Hes never answered you before on when or how he joined the hunting organization, literally. He’s so silent when you ask, but the moment you switch to a different topic he’s chiming in his opinion like he didn’t just give you the silent treatment for 15 minutes. He told you he’d never lie to you, so, you guess he was telling the truth about that statement.

- Whenever Rollo is unavailable to you, Jack essentially works as his “replacement” according to Sam. You wouldn’t call him that though, Jack cares for you the same way Rollo does, but he’s a lot less… Restricted towards you. You can go out at midnight with him as long as you let him walk you back home, You can eat more junk food, and you can even go into the forest with him outside of a job! Rollo is oblivious to it, but there are moments where you might, just a tinsy weensy bit, prefer having Jack watch over you compared to him. You still love Rollo though! (Never say that to him directly, he will dissect what kinda of love it is you’re implying for him.)

- Overall, you can’t wait to see him again when you go to Savanaclaw! You’re curious as to why he hasn’t reached back to you after the 2 months he's been there though…

Azul Ashengrotto [ Slime Kraken ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- His true form is huge, being bigger than the size of 5 pirate ships combined. When he shrinks himself though, he’s only 7 feet long and huge, rather than 50 feet long and huge! Less scary right? (it’s not, you’re just trying to delude yourself.)

- It’s more dangerous when considering the substance he’s made out of is multi-purpose, making him invisible, essentially unkillable, and extremely capable in offense. You’ve seen it first hand considering you’ve been on the receiving end of his malice once. If you have to admit it though, it’s a lot scarier watching him use his skills on unknowing sailors. You collect what remains of them, and set them to rest far away from the sea.

- During the night, you’re divided on whether or not he can be considered horrifying, or beautiful. The twins glow, but they're limited to their one-color pallets. Azuls body, channels the light from his surroundings, making him more than one color sometimes. It’s a bit saddening when you notice how insecure he is about the material of his body, even using magic to appear more human-like in his state. If you tell him he’s handsome in his regular slime state, he’ll flush in embarrassment. (If you go a step further and hug him as such a gross substance, goodness, he’s already looking through books at the bottom of the ocean about human courting. Never mind you’re still trying to kill him, he’ll slay your heart if he has to!)

- If he uses Magic, he, can turn himself into a human for a little. He never really had a reason to go on land, he’s powerful in the sea, even ranked as one of the 7 most wanted monsters. But, now that you’re in his life, he wants to follow you and see what it would be like to live with you as a person. He doesn’t call it a date, but he thinks of it as one, even imagines himself telling Jade and Floyd (Little does he know they already beat him to the punch on that one…). You take him by the hand and the urge to stay on land with you becomes even stronger. But, so does the need to have you in the ocean with him.

- His tentacles along with his crazy strength, just make him an even harder foe to fight. Truly… What are you meant to do when you’re sitting down and in his sleep, he just clings onto you with a tentacle, and now you just, can’t leave? Besides he’s asleep, how are they latching onto you so hard… They don't have a mind of their own— You remember seeing an article that wrote about such a phenomenon. Okay, so maybe they do act of their own volition… why do they cling so desperately to you?

- Survival: Eating as much of whatever is available

Jade Leech & Floyd Leech [ Skeleton Sea Serpents ]

- During your stay in their abode, you’d wake up to Floyd squeezing you so hard you swear one of the bones on his tail were gonna puncture you. He’s too strong, horrifically strong to the point you fear getting squeezed more than twice a day could genuinely kill you. If you don’t voice this concern, you might risk your death, but if you do, he’ll restrain himself a bit (he couldn’t bear the thought of killing his shrimpy! You’re too fun to play with, let him kiss those sore places better yeah? Besides, just a little biting doesn’t hurt)

- Their senses are so enhanced, it’s just as scary as their strength. You had sliced your hand once, a medium amount of blood pouring out, and before you could even do anything, Jade had swam up to you and latched onto your wrist, pulling you down, almost tugging you into the water, and began licking the wound clean, his eyes empty and his sharp teeth dragging across your skin. You thought he was miles away…?! How did he know you were bleeding…? When he’s done, he pats your hand and smiles before engaging in a casual conversation about your day, uncharacteristically gentlemanly after such a scary display. If you ask him what that was about, he’ll innocently tilt his head and ask you “whatever are you talking about?”

- Just like Azul, their true forms are giant, not as big as his, but still equally as terrifying, the sharp bones that poke out their body further proving this fact.

- Extremely Fast, You’ve seen this first hand when Floyd jumped out of the water and dragged you through the sea to transport you to a “beach date” in the middle of the ocean, in only 3 minutes…He heard of these dates from Azul, “Said he was gonna take you on one, thought it’d be funny if I took yah instead.” You’re unable to inquire what he means by “Azul trying to take you out”, as he’s brightly smiling when he places a sailor's cap on you. The small sight of blood in his canines is all you need to know about where this hat came from.

- Their teeth are sharp that’s for sure, you watched Jade sink his teeth into unsuspecting marine life. The thought of him doing the same to ships 7 times the size of such animals, makes you worried for future sailors, and… For yourself. He flaunts those ivories at you so much, you’re worried he’s trying to hint at his insatiable hunger. (He’s doesn’t bite like Floyd does, but honestly, you’d prefer if he bit you instead of grazing his teeth on your skin so sensually)

- They like to drag you into the water with them. You’re sure it’s how they have fun, the only exposure to the human world other than you is Azul and artifacts they collect from ships they were responsible for destroying. So of course, they wouldn’t know the first thing of human play, yet… you have the underlying feeling they have a reason for doing such a thing that isn’t just entertainment.

- Survival: Anything they can fit in their mouths (Whether it be marine life or ships. Though, these two have a specific craving for human)

Kalim Al-Asim [ Genie ]

- Extremely strong, every time he hugs you he completely forgets his strength. In the moments where he does realize it, he’s quick to apologize. If you tell him where you hurt, he’ll insist “kissing” it will make it better! It’s what worked on his siblings, so it must work for you! If you don’t tell him… he’ll cry, so it’s better to just tell him.

- Wishmaking. He insists on letting him give you a wish, after all, you did save him from being lonely! (You’re not sure if you could call it “saving” considering you were trying to kill him… and still are… ). You never accept his offer, with the knowledge that everything has a price, (Thank you Azul for such a good lesson learned) which makes him sad, but in your awkward ways of comfort, you tell him the only wish you want, is a hug. He is ecstatic and wraps his arms around you, tight. You’re regretting your wish now. Though, the glare from two pairs of slit eyes tells you you’re not the only one who doesn’t like the wish.

- Too many riches too count… You wake up, gifted in gold and jewels, you’re halfway through the day, more diamonds and rubies, going to sleep… Gold and emeralds. You told Kalim no more. He found a loophole and just replaced the cheaper items with more expensive ones. It’s technically not more so… You make a reminder to dump it all on Rollo, he’ll surely enjoy having money to tend to his garden. (He won’t. You already know he’ll refuse anything from a monster. But, if you bat your eyelashes enough he might accept it.)

“Kalim, I don’t need any more rubies.” You’re sat on his golden throne, the optimistic wish granter between your legs with his arms wrapped around your waist as he sits on the floor, a beaming smile making you hesitant on his next words.

“Then I’ll just give you more diamonds!” … Truly, you thought genies could only give out three wishes, why does it feel like this one wants to give you more than that… It’s gotten to the point where you think he wants only you to be the one he grants anything to, going so far as finding a way to bypass the rules. He even gave you his lamp, which you gave back to Jamil upon receiving it.

- You do wonder… Where are the rest of the people Kalims granted desires to? Even more so, the rest of the genies, as far as you’re concerned, Crowley said there was only one left (that he wanted to get his greedy hands on). If you had just searched Kalim and Jamils shared space, surely you would’ve found the corner filled with broken lamps in it.

Survival: Not sure, Either immortal or some secret to survival.

Jamil Viper [ Snake ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- Half snake half man, his lithe body is enough to give you pause no matter how many times you see it, even after seeing the leeches who have a similar body. You think the reason might be more cause of his intimidating eyes rather than his actual body however, 2 sharp slits are enough to make anyone rethink their judgment.

- When he sleeps, he unknowingly wraps around you, his human half bunching you in his arms as if he isn’t squeezing your legs. You think it’s just his instincts using use as warmth considering he’s cold-blooded, so you let him (Little do you know he’s perfectly warm enough, his body is just drawn to you for some reason). When he wakes up, he considers poisoning himself from embarrassment.

- Venomus, the long pointed fangs could tell you that much. When he sheds a tooth after meeting you, he doesn’t toss it away like he used to, he finds a piece of string and slides it through the solid, letting you watch him in skepticism as he slithers towards you, gently placing the newly formed necklace in your palm as his forked tongue sticks out. (He also left a little venom trapped inside, in case anyone gets a little too close than wanted.)

- Don’t stare into his eyes to long, or else you’ll find yourself entranced by the slits in his pupils, and completely hypnotized without even his knowledge. It’s like he’s so enchanted by you that he forgets he can do something like that. When he realizes what he’s done, an hour goes by before you come to. You don’t feel any different, but one looks at your wrist adorned with a snake bracelet that wasn’t there before tells you something happened…

You can’t move it from its place, but you honestly don’t want to, it’s pretty. Works perfectly well in Jamil's favor, if you had, you definitely would’ve noticed the two holes punctured into your skin by a familiar set of fangs—

“Jamil, Kalim gave me his lamp again.”

“… Really?” He’s quick to take it off your hands. If only he could wish instead… it would make his life so much easier.

- Survival: Undocumented

Vil Schoenheit [ Incubus ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- You’re human. You’re not immune to charm and flirtation. It’s disappointing that Vil is so good at what he does. You haven’t given into temptation, at least, not yet.

- Shapeshifting, he’s told you before if you have someone in mind you’d ever want to do such things with, he can transform into them if you hope to practice your confession, when you tell him nobody comes to mind, you fail to notice the devious smile that perches on his lips in victory. It seems the only face that will appear in your brain in such moments of vulnerability will be his, and that’s enough for him.

“Though, Since I used to see Neige almost every day maybe his? He has seen me in moments even Rollo hasn’t…”

What?

- Feasting on the vitality of humans is something commonly known for incubi, you’ve asked Vil before if you’re going to die soon from him touching you… You already know he’s an amazing actor so when he answers you, you can’t tell if he’s lying or if it’s the truth, especially when he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips like a prince, perfectly playing off the suspicion in his answer.

- You think it’s unfair he’s so attractive, if he had only half his looks it would at least be easier to not stare at his pretty features— what are you thinking…?! You can already hear the scolding of everyone else telling you how heinous it is to think such thoughts, but once again, you're distracted by the feeling of Vil dipping into the couch next to you, offering a drink as if you two were just ordinary people. To be fair, his whole survival depends on how well he can interact with humans… He only smiles when you take the drink.

- Making Hallucinations is just common practice for Vil, Rook praising him for all the people who gave into his temptations from his feats. You were once sure he had never used it on you, you could never fall for such a puny delusion, but now, your confidence has faded. Things in your memory are blurry, unclear.

Has… Vil has been using it on you…?

- Survival: Corruption of humans through desire, feeding off vitality

Rook Hunt [ Boogeyman ]

- You make an extreme effort to avoid all manners of shadows since you’ve met him. Lurking in the dark is his forte, and it doesn't bode well for you because almost all your work is done in the dark. Even then… your efforts are in vain because you still feel the sensation of eyes burning into you at all times of the day. In these cases, you retreat to Vil in hopes he can rein him in a bit.

- Shapeshifting is a rare and dangerous ability. Unfortunately, Rook of all monsters has it. Even in places with no signs of shadows, it feels like he’s still there. It doesn’t make it any better that he hints towards that being the truth.

“Ah trickster, you looked magnifique in that bathing suit!”

“You were the waiter who kept offering me drinks weren’t you.”

“The way I observe my muse shall not be disclosed!”

- Watching Rook feast on fear isn’t scary, but rather… unsettling…? He places his mouth near his victim as what you can only assume to be their fear twists up into his throat, the horrified human trembling in terror. Such a scary expression quickly disappears when he turns to you with the happiest smile and gushes to the poor human about how wonderful you are, rubbing his cheek to yours like a sappy couple.

“Ah! Trickster…! You are quite sweaty! Shall I dry you off—” you shut him up by throwing the same towel he was about to clean you up with, in his face.

- His skill set is already horrifying, but adding in the basic ability of enhanced strength just makes it worse. You can’t even begin to count how many walls Rook has torn through for you… A simple ow, and what you originally thought to be a brick wall, is now a giant hole with the boogeyman at your call. It’s harder to be nice to him when he’s insistent that you train your capabilities on him. The amount of times Rook has turned a stab into a firm held waltz is just too many.

“Non non, You must hide your hand better trickster.”

“I would do that if you weren't cradling me into a dip right now Rook— Stop dancing with me already!”

- Survival: Fear and Grief

Epel Felimer [ Newbie Vampire ]

- He's asked you before if he could suck you dry. He honestly expected you to say no, but when you reached your arm out and told him to just not turn you, he was sure you must be some sort of blessing in disguise. When he’s done, he begs you not to tell Vil, as the incubus banned him from feeding. You’ll come to regret it at some point though, as now he continuously comes back to you in times of hunger.

- He runs at such fast speeds, it’s incredible to you, you’ve clapped for him a couple times, but, every-time you did… he got distracted and would trip. He wishes the sun would come up and kill him in those moments.

- Compulsion is a dangerous thing, you shouldn’t be shocked, but luckily for you, he… doesn’t seem to know how to use it the way it should be utilized. The moment he does finally master such an ability, you’ll have to find someway to get past that. He did try using it on you once, a simple command asking you to tell him how “manly” he is, somehow, someway, the command turned into something much more… embarrassing. He stands in bewilderment at the way your hands are cupping your face, endlessly praising Epel about how amazing he is, and how you wish to stay with him forever.

Vil and Rook stepped in to save you. He was sat in the corner as a punishment.

- His hunger is, insatiable. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a monster so bloodthirsty. It’s like he has some goal to just, feast on as many people as he can… He mistook you as a stranger he could freely feast on, jumping on you, ready to sink his fangs into your neck. He’s only narrowly stopped when the moon shines on your face and he knows it’s you. If it wasn’t, whoever took your place would not doubt be dead.

- Survival: Blood

Idia Shroud [ Reaper ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- With how moody Idia is, you forget what his occupation is until he shows up at your door with the scythe he uses to escort the dead.

- Reapers aren’t necessarily evil or good, which is why you’re always conflicted about how to feel about Idia. Should you… Make your decisions based off his personality rather than what he is to slay him—? Why is he whispering about how all the other monsters should drop dead— Ah, he thinks they’re cooler than him.

- You essentially work as a discounted vent session as Idia talks about how everyone else is so much worthier than him to be slain by hunters. They all have cool abilities and cool looks, what is he stuck with? An edgy cloak and a tool farmers use to cut hay—

- His rant is cut short at the sound of a cheap board game slamming on the table, his eyes looking up to you placing a game piece on the spot, signaling him to take his turn as you tell him how he’s “the only one you find playing games with fun”. Truly, you must be one of the kindest souls he’s had the fortune of meeting, he should know, half of the spirits he escorts are huge douches.

- It just makes him all the more worried about bringing you to the after life.

- Even though Idia doesn’t have a reason to actively hurt humans, it’s still worrying when he describes to you in detail of his After life Capabilities. He once told you a story about how a guy was acting so high and mighty he trapped him in the space between life and death, only coming back to laugh at him when the man was practically broken. He only stops his retelling when he looks up and sees the most hurt expression on your face.

- After that, he sits up before you can even say anything, leaving immediately as he buries his head in his hands. The next day, he’s at your door as you silently stare at him, his form of retribution for your hurt being whatever you mentioned wanting during the week. You accept his gift, but that still doesn’t stop the fear of what Idia does to the souls he guides with a lack of fondness.

- Survival: Unable to Die. (Speculation)

Malleus Draconia [Dragon Gargoyle… And… something else?]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- Heavy durability, as he is pure stone. in times of desperation, you watch as green sparkles fly around the man as stone turns soft. His spell doesn’t last long but in his desire he chooses to pepper you in kisses with smooth lips. The first time he attempted to romantically place a peck on your arm, you cringed at the feeling of rough stone on your skin. It hurt his feelings so he opted to just spell himself instead.

- Heavy. He didn’t wanna move away from a doorway you had to exit through to leave. You tried lifting him out of the way, you don’t think you’ve ever tried so hard to move something before. He thought it was an attempt at a hug, so you ended up being smooshed in his arms for an hour before Lilia saved you.

- Camaflouge, the stone he’s made of, and moss that grows on his body can be manipulated in any way he wishes, even his size, it’s scary watching him go from his regular 6 feet to an astonishing 10. This trait of his has served numerous moments where you’re surveying his castle only to feel arms pulling you back into a stone exterior. Your reflexes are swift to throw a punch, only to have the cruel reminder of rock busting your hand.

“Ah forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you Child of hunters”

“My hand is broken Malleus.”

“We can just get you a new hand can we not?” That night serves as the first of having to tell Malleus he can’t always spell you when you’re injured. To this, he tells you that’s nonsense and he’ll expend all his reserves for you.

- Considering he’s also a Dragon, flight, and fire breathing really shouldn’t surprise you. What does surprise you is when he looked more dragon than gargoyle sometimes, his eyes becoming more lively, scales being more obvious, and his wings and horn being truer than they’ve ever been. You have a sneaking suspicion his instincts change forms too, his already heavy clinginess increasing tenfold. You’re either held by his clawed fingers or wrapped in his wing.

- Despite Malleus being marked as one of the most dangerous kills possible, you find it extremely easy to… ask him to do something. In fits of anger, he’ll cling impossibly close to you, trying desperately to attempt to cease the ugly feeling festering inside him. He’ll tell you he never wants you to leave his side. If you’re not feeling like being trapped inside, all you need to do is wrap your arms around his neck and lean into his ear with a low whisper, asking him to let you go. For a moment, his grip will tighten, but slowly he relents, his stone eyes watching you wave goodbye.

- Though, truthfully, You don’t feel like you’re free… Sometimes, you notice gargoyles in places where there shouldn’t be any. Sooner or later, his resolve might break, asking him for such freedoms might not be as easy.

- Not only that but… There’s definitely a side to him that isn’t just some Dragon Gargoyle. Whenever you have the chance to dig deeper into it, you’re met with a wall that separates you from the truth. Just what is Malleus?

- Survival: ???, Unable to Die. Do not attempt.

Lilia Vanrouge [ ??? ]

- Caution: Possibly capable of Magic.

- Certainly the most mysterious of the bunch… To be fair, everyone in the Diasmonia space is filled with anonymity. He doesn’t have any specific qualities that warrant a decisive conclusion, but you’re confident that he’s not a human. Sometimes he has wings, sometimes fangs, sometimes spider legs, just what is he?! (He has used this capability to scare you on numerous occasions, taking the form of a giant wasp and chasing you once. When he gets bored though, he clings onto you endlessly, not as bad as Malleus but still very often. You woke up to him in your bed once, and now he occasionally appears there to “wake you up” by sliding his arms around your waist. Please tell him you’ll only let him do this if he stops turning into freaky stuff…)

- You have no doubt he’s one of the monsters that eat humans. You took a sniff of his red juice once, it’s definitely blood, and considering why you’re here, it’s for sure not animal blood. Out of guilt for failing whatever human is his current meal, you offered up yourself as a blood bag, and he happily indulged, pining you to the table and nipping that delicious spot on your neck. Out of courtesy for everyone else in the castle... You lock the door.

But it doesn’t matter, you’re quite sure he didn’t honor the agreement anyway, as he’s happily feasting on a mystery meat you know isn’t any creature near this castle.

- He always keeps you on your toes, one of the moments being when he used his flight to carry you all over the sky, laughing at you and your body clinging onto him in fear of dropping to your death. It makes it worse that he doesn’t do it slow, he flies so fast you can hear the wind slicing through the air, your arms only wrapping around his neck trying to get even closer than you already are.

“Lilia…! Lilia! Put us down—! I’m gonna die…!” you can feel his hand pat your head as he tightens his grip on your body.

“Aww…don’t worry, as long as I’m here you won’t fall!” you believe him, but that doesn’t make you feel any safer at all…

- Despite how decrepit the Diasmonia castle is, there are still photos of its rein on the wall. In an attempt to know your targets better, you look at some of them, immediately recognizing Lilia in one of the frames… But, his aura seemed different, more cold, more cruel… He was bloodied, and you’re sure that body he’s holding is what you think it is, but, he doesn't have that usual crazy happy look he has when he catches his next meal.

-Just how did Lilia end up like this?

- Survival: Undocumented

Sebek Zigvolt [ Swamp Monster ]

- He says you’re pathetic. (He continues to leave flowers specific from his swamp at your door) You’re not… You’re not very sure what he thinks of you…? He says you’re a coward, yet continues to gift you plants after you offhandedly mentioned how you think they’re pretty. So… What does that mean…?

- Maybe they’re poisonous… Heh… Maybe you can use them on Crowley—

- Your plan of attack is interrupted as a booming voice bursts your ear drums, the source of distress being the green being covered in moss, water, and vines. You follow the trail of plants leading from the swamp to the creature behind you, a bear, wrapped in controlled swamp foliage by the monster of the water. Sebek huffs and chastises you for such carelessness, but the feeling of you scooping his hands into yours and thanking him with a smile makes the words on his tongue go numb. Not for too long though, as he tells you obviously a beast like him can handle such lowly creatures, no wonder you didn’t notice.

- Before you came along, according to Silver, the water he resides in used to be a mess, as he said “Lilia believes it to fit my role of Swamp Monster, so I shall keep it!” so he kept it the way it is and let it out control. But, apparently, after you, it subtly became neater, flowers adorning the ridges of where once was messed moss, his water adorned with petals of your favorite color, the place even smelling like your favorite scent. He tells you it’s just a change of scenery for Malleus, not anyone else, you only smile at him, not replying. Malleus doesn’t have the same favorite scent.

- Like his fondness for nature, his power of water is equally as tantalizing to watch. He didn’t know you were there, but you were watching him train, your eyes becoming more entranced in his movements when you saw him become sidetracked from his patience for a moment. A book was laid in front of him, one that he delved deeper and deeper into with interest. It seems he has a fondness for literature, so after that, you would leave books you had at his residence, watching with amusement at how fascinated he was. Unfortunately, you walked up to him once when he was meant to be training, and in attempt to hide his hobby, he flicked his hands and let the water swallow every page in aqua.

“I have been training this whole time human…!”

“Ah, I got you all those. Now they’re wet…” He acts like he doesn’t care, but he secretly feels bad, so discreetly, he attempts to piece every page lost in the water together before presenting you with a new book.

- Survival: Swamp

Silver [ ??? ]

- Honestly, his abilities are lighthearted when not used to a heavy extent. He can eat dreams of those who sleep, typically, nightmares. There have been rumors spreading of a night creature who creeps into rooms, sucking the ambitions and hopes of its victims… They’re not wrong, if he’s called upon too often he’ll strip the person of all their wants and, dreams. Go a step further, and he might as well suck the life out of a human.

- But… You know he doesn’t mean to… At least you hope not.

- Sometimes your judgment feels misplaced when you watch him go overboard in his hunger, his trance only capable of being broken when you grab him by the shoulder, maybe even point a blade at him in desperation.

- He can travel into dreams. You’ve caught him lurking in your conscious one too many times to count. It’s not like he’s devouring your fantasy, but you can’t help and wonder why he’s almost always there. He doesn’t change what’s happening in it, he doesn’t destroy it so… Why is he there so often?

- it’s ironic, a creature who lives off the manifestation of people’s conscious, sleeps so much. You remember sorting through flowers Sebek had “gifted” you, (You’re not sure if it counts as gifted considering he threw them at you saying “they’re frail, just like a weak human.”) and Silver had sat right next to you, begining a sentence before dropping his head into your lap, a deep slumber commencing on your thighs.

- He wakes up ready to apologize, but the feeling of your hands gently playing with his hair, is enough for him to fall back asleep immediately.

- He’s a lot more welcoming to stay with compared to the rest of the monstrous residents of Diasmonia. If you’re free from Malleus and Lilias's grasp, you’re quick to run over to him. He’s typically sleeping, so, when he’s nodding off you sit down next to him, slowly placing your head on his shoulder as you fall asleep. If you’re to be trapped here for a bit, it wouldn't hurt to have some form of comfort in this run-down place.

As you fall into slumber, you secretly wish to meet Silver in a dream again.

It’s coincidental that he wakes up the moment you place your head on him, it’s a pretty sight to him. He hopes… you’ll stay here, he enjoys your company too much. As soft snores leave you, his hands move on their own, grasping onto your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It’s selfish, he was raised to do what he must to survive as a monster by his father. So he knows, what he feels is natural, but there’s a lingering thought he shouldn’t feel this heavy about a human… He doesn’t wanna let you go.

- Survival: Dream Feasting

Neige Leblanche [ Angel ]

- It’s… a bit unnerving how kind he is… You understand he’s a supposed Guardian Angel specially dedicated to your well but goodness, he was not very good at his job.

- He essentially watches you go about your day, occasionally blessing you to see your eyes light up with happiness.

- Despite how much he grooms the feathers on his back, he never lets you get too close to them, folding them back up when you’re near enough to see them more intricately or graze your fingers on them. It never bothered you, truly, he’s so nice to to you you could never be suspicious of him.

- He had to attend to personal matters once when you were eating together, his wings fluttering before he ascended. A pair of feathers had fallen in place of where he once was, One plumage was as white as snow, and the other…

- Was as dark as ebony.

- Survival: Being Good

Rollo Flamme [ Human ]

- He’s always been by your side.

- He would never be one of those wretched filthy beasts. He’s always cared for you when you couldn’t care for yourself.

- Don’t look at him like that. Why… Why is there scorn in your eyes…? He’d never hurt you, never.

- You’re the only sanctuary of purity in his life, he wants to embrace you. He always has, your happiness has always been his.

- He has always wanted to save you from the hellish life mother nature had dealt you.

So please…

- Let him hug the one thing he cares for one more time. And…

Forget the white lie he gave you.

- Survival: You

The day is today. The date you left Rollo without saying even the slightest hint of a farewell. It has been 364 days, without you.

It’s a sorrowing sight for coworkers of his who know how close you are. But, if they had just looked closer, the looming feeling of festering jealousy would no doubt impede their senses.

Rollo knows he can feel it. He will find a way to drag whatever wretched beasts are ruining you with their filth, down to hell.

“Ah! Mr.Flamme, Hello Hello—!” ringed fingers slam mercilessly into the wood of a desk, any harder and he might’ve broken it. “Be careful…! This desk is expensive…!”

“It’s been a year since [Name] left for these jobs… Why aren’t they back?” Rollos on the verge of bursting a vein, the only composure he has left is strung together by the thin thread of hope he has of you coming back, coming back to him.

“Well, My little Birdie is—”

“There is no My, and there is no Birdie, don’t call them that.”

“Possesive much…”

“It’s not posseviness.” Crowley only nods at him, obviously, he doesn’t believe the man, but he’ll pretend if it means moving this conversation along.

“I will answer your question in due time, now would you please… remind yourself why it is you’re here in the first place?”

———

A/n Did I do a shit ton of research about monsters and their abilities for this, a post that was meant to be a shitpost? No, who would do that? (I would). Anyways, I hope this can satisfy Monster!Twst enjoyers while I work on the heartslaybul chapter, I promise I’m working on it to make it the best possible! (Blame the economy for my lack of activity on it)

#twisted wonderland #twst

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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Ruggie: is hungry

MC: feeds him

Ruggie: is this a mate?

But yeah, every time Ruggie gets a human meal, he questions more and more why his ancestors/species ate humans when they could eat with them as he does.

Ruggie knows the Human can cook and he will be begging at their door every breakfast and every dinner. Lunch is more difficult because he knows those other overly protective students would not allow him to get close to the Human. He has already told Grammy Bucchi that he has found the best cook in Twisted Wonderland and she is encouraging him to see if the Human would be willing to come to the slums where his Cackle lives and feeding them this heavenly food.

Ruggie is thrilled Grammy is on board and he very much wishes the Human would teach him to cook. Should the Human ever actually start teaching cooking classes, Ruggie will be the first to sign up and will be willing to steal the sign up sheet so no one else can attend. He will allow Leona to sign up, but that's it. You gotta pry that sheet out of his cold lifeless grippers to add your name and that means catching Ruggie first. Ruggie is not easy to catch and his teeth/claws aren't for show.

Ruggie has also learned that his whooping and cackling draws the Human's attention quickly- likely because the Human is now attuned to Ruggie and Grim's vocalizations due to feeling somewhat responsible for them- so he will start cackling just to get the Human to look at him. Every conversation and every meal makes Ruggie angry that his own kind was so ready to eat Humans on sight instead of just letting the Humans cook a delicious meal for everyone.

His tail wags turbo speed the moment Idia and the Human figure out how to make fried foods- hands free because Idia refuses to let the Human play with hot oil of any kind- and the Human makes donuts. The sweet and soft squish of the fried dough paired with icings of various flavors will make this Gnoll weep to the very Gods for daring to take Humans away. He NEEDS to be the taste tester and he finds his tail wagging every time he thinks of the soft Human that feeds him with regularity.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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Yandere Idol Dogboy

MDNI

Warning: Mentions of m*sturbation

A dogboy who worked so hard to reach to the top with his crew, from a small singer on the street to the being the greatest idol on stage. But he always has an eyes for someone.

Yandere Idol Dogboy loves it when people sing praises about his work and his crew, they worked so hard to make people happy and excited. Ears always perked up from hearing praises from fans and hosts, and is grateful for the support.

Yandere Idol Dogboy however he will only be loyal to one person, that one person would try to visit every bar and every street performance to listen to his written songs and dance. He only lets you pat his head, like a good dog.

Yandere Idol Dogboy always leaves to a nearby restroom to jerk his knotted boner, whimpering because his hands can no longer satisfy him. Trying to remember your scent and imagine it was you and your hands doing the magic.

Yandere Idol Dogboy only gives you the special VIP pass that even hardcore fans can never get. To others you are just a day 1 fan and an idol. He loves it now that he can be someone worthy for his master.

Also ignore that poking on your thigh, it’s probably the costume. So until then, keep on petting him and calling him your good boy.

#yandere oc #yandere #hybrid #a/b/o #hybrid au

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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Come now, Boy Wonder ︎

Dick Grayson/Reader, 550 words Kinktober entry 5: Male squirting Warnings: CNC: hero/villain roleplay | Overstim | Bondage Requested by: Anonymous

His stormy blue eyes glare at you all the way though his orgasm. As dark and turbulent as a storm despite the pathetic, pretty choked up sounds that emanate from his swollen lips. His bare feet curve against the hard and filthy concrete flooring, supporting his body as he arches away from the pole his hands are bound too. Every muscle in his toned and sweat-slick body taut as he mindlessly ruts into your palms, white-hot cum spilling from his reddened cock head for the second time tonight and dribbling down your arm until he’s spent and collapses back onto the floor.

Sympathetic as you are, you allow him a short moment to catch his breath; for the pink to drain from his face and recognition to creep back into his eyes before you start again; running your thumb along the half-softened tip of his length until he twitches, attempting to pull back from you, only to press himself harder into the metal slab behind him.

“Come now, Boy Wonder. Surely, you’ve got more to give than that.” You tease, and he glares at you from behind his domino mask; the only slither of pride you’ve allowed him to retain.

You can tell from the stiff pursing of his lips that he wants to quip back at you. He’s always prided himself on being the witty one after all, but all that leaves his mouth is as a string of nonsensical whines as you wrap your other hand around the base of his uncut cock and start to glide your hand up and down his shaft in a ruthless, unending rhythm. Using his release as lubrication.

“C-c-can’t.” He finally spits, voice shaking in time with each tremor that creeps along his spine.

“Don’t be such a defeatist, Nightwing.” You scold, and his shaft begins to pulse between your tight grip, a telltale sign that another release is moments away. “You can, and you will.”

To aid his approaching climax, you squeeze his crown between your thumb and forefinger, massaging it in complementary circles as he begins to buck and wither at the overstimulation once more.

“Please, no. Nononono.” In spite of his negativity, another climax rakes through his worn-out body. This one watery and wild. It sails into the air, and you aim his throbbing cock toward him, ensuring every drop falls back onto this heated body. Even you hadn’t expected so much of it, but it keeps coming, salty droplets landing and clinging all along his form. He truly is wasted, to fucked to spit it out when glob after glob hits his heavy tongue.

“Wooooooooooow.” The smile on your lips is profane as you patronise him, but when he looks into your amazed eyes, he can’t fight the prideful smile that spreads across his face. “Never knew you were a squirter. Learn something new every day.”

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” He bites back, but there’s no energy behind it as his body goes lax. Head lolling to the side, cum coated chest heaving up and down with each unsteady breath. “Wait till I get my hands on you.”

“Oh you're so scary. Please don't hurt me Mr Hero.” You mock, laughing at him, not with him; it’s still your turn after all, and you're far from finished with him just yet.

Please remember, you deserve good things!

Kinktober Masterlist

#sub #dom reader #dc #dcu #dick grayson

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

Text

WILD WILD WILD

Synopsis. No time like the first time, and his first time with you is enough to drive a man wild wild wild.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, first time fúcking you, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, BRÉEDING, pússy-slápping, creampíes, true form!Sukuna, dp, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of having kíds, spítting, praise, cúmplay, vírginíty loss (Choso), proposals, slight chokíng, slightly mean Geto, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hoping you all have a lovely lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Oh baby, baby.

You’ve made it about five absolutely shattered condoms before Toji simply growls and flips you over with such a branding slap! to your cunt - as if it was your fault he hasn’t gotten to ravage his pretty girl already.

Running his tongue over that sinful scar on his upper lip, he’s spreading your puffy pussy lips open with a slow swipe of his thick thumb. Mouth just salivating at that easy, languid trickle of your sweet sweet juices glossing down his wrist.

“Wouldn’t have even tried so hah- hard with those goddamn rubbers if I knew what ya were holdin’ out on me, doll.” Toji jeers from above, jostling your dangling legs even tighter around his slender waist. Before planting a drippingly wet smack! smack! smack! of his swollen, reddish tip right on the peak of your sensitive clit. “Just look at how drenched that makes ya.”

“Toji–” your honeyed, dragged-out whine makes him just twitch on top of you. Squirming at the way that has him gushing out a saturated puddle of sweltering hot precum onto your pre-soaked cunt. “Won’t you just put it in alre- ah!”

And Toji’s so fucking mean with the way he inches in just the very curve of his fat tip past your gummy entrance, shutting up those cute complaints on your tongue for the most delicious whine he’s ever heard.

“Heh, there we go. Finally- finally.” he gruffs out, moving over the grip of his long digits around his thickened base to wrap around your splayed-out thighs. Such an awful tease - making you do all the work shuffling down the silken sheets trying to milk his achy shaft. “Ohhh yeah- oh my god, there we fuckin- go-”

A particularly harsh clench of your velvety walls makes him throw his head back deliriously. Hoarse, baritone moans wrenching from his chest, “Yeah- you were so fuckin’ holding out. Heh, didn’t know it could feel so good. Feels like heaven, ma. Think I could fuck this cunt for forever-” He drags a hazy kiss down your lips, “Could fuck a baby into ya-”

“Hngh! I-if it-” you’re managing to mewl out, blinking back the big fat tears in your eyes to wrap your limp arms around his neck. “-if it feels so good then why aren’t you fucking me properly.”

Another heated smack! has the imprint of all five fingers of his raising on your flesh, and Toji just shoveling the rest of his long, solid inches into your clingy insides. And- shit, he’s so jaw-droppingly massive. No matter how many times you’ve seen him, taking him is a whole other feeling.

Fuck. This was heaven.

He grunts, “Might be the first time but yer suckin’ me up so- well.”

It’s like your poor pussy was gaping around him, being molded along every tiny crevice of his cock. That slight upwards curve was just spearing into the very spongy depths of your cervix head-on, drawing wet, glossy glides across your g-spot.

You were finally, finally being fucked by him.

And it was maddening.

“Say that again, doll?” he quirks his head down at you after a few heaving breaths to try and stop that pathetic cracking of his words. “Because I think you were hah- s-saying something.” Each word is punctuated by a ruthless thrust, making a sloppy mess of your insides until you could feel the thundering throb of his pumping cock, the sticky thwack of his cum-filled balls on your ass. Toji leans down until his entire body weight was pinning you against the damp mattress, holding you hostage to the way he tugs on your ear lobes with his sharp canines. “Or are ya just too hngh- cockdrunk for it already?”

Smack!

As if you could speak.

Jaw dangling open, hulking body hunched over, his big beefy arms cage you in. “Awww, come on now. Answer me. Don’t tell me you were ah- beggin’ for my cock so badly for weeks n’ won’t even gimme your pretty compliments?”

You’re barely even able to keep up with his syrupy sweet words, locking your ankles around his waist.

Toji hisses when that slight movement has him jolting even rougher against the bulbous bullseye of your sweet spots. “I-I didn’t-”

“I-I-I didn’t-” he snickers against your lips, swiveling his hips into slow sultry swirls until his fat girth was dragging his prominent veins along all your sweet spots. You’re just keening at that, making your back arch up sluttily into Toji’s muscled chest. “Honestly. If all it took was my ngh- d-dick to make you forget those good girl manners, I’d have done this- much- sooner-”

He’s babbling out just as deliriously as you no matter how much he’d like to pretend he isn’t. Because oh Toji Fushiguro was no match for your pretty pussy.

No match for the way each of his ramming thrusts had every shred of rationality flying out of his honeyed mind, puffs of breath coming out more feverish. Heavier. Words slurring and jumbling together at every fresh coat of your slippery slick down his raw length.

“Shit.” His eyes lock on your utterly fucked-out expression, he can’t even bring himself to look downwards at how well you’re taking him. “Let’s see how much of a cockdrunk slut ya really are- open that mouth, ma.”

And Toji could almost laugh at how readily your spit-glossed lips sag open for him. Taking it all in one go when he spits out a hot, steady stream of spit right onto your pink taste buds.

“Yeahh, heheh-” he’s grinning darkly, feeling his tight balls squeeze painfully. Gliding the soft pad of his thumb down that translucent trickle of drool along the corner of your mouth. “Now swallow.” Rock-hard tip mashing against your g-spot in a way that only makes you head his instructions without a second thought.

“Good. Now you realize-” His rough hands wrangle your boneless legs on top of his broad shoulders, bending down, down, down into the meanest mating press possible. “-that I was serious about fuckin’ a baby into ya, right?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Marry m- take it.”

“Ken- Ken–” your sultry mewls only grow louder, batting those teary eyes up at where Nanami’s got you folded into the firmest little mating press he’d allow himself. “I want more.”

Oh, and he thinks he could pass out. He thinks he’s stopped breathing. Nanami thinks with all his bleary head and his achy, furious dick that he’s going to marry you right here, right now on these expensive silken sheets.

He’s leaning in close enough to kiss his forehead against yours, sweat-slicked lips clashing into yours in a way that makes your knees weak. Hushing out, “Shhh, s’alright, my love.” And his tone is so sweet that you almost forget the absolutely mean way Nanami was splitting you apart. Your sopping pussy bulging out at the intrusion of his fat, hot girth. “Good girl, takin’ me so well for the first time. Tell me- hah- tell me where.”

And all you can do is dazedly guide his massive hand along your tummy, so warm and comforting. Pressing down where he gets to the lewd little nudge of his thick tip, sheathing in deeper and deeper and-

“H-here–” you’re mewling, big fat tears streaming down your eyes now. Ones that he wastes absolutely no time licking long, languid stripes to taste. He groans at the salty flavor. “Can feel you right here, Ken. Didn’t- hngh- didn’t think you’d be in so- deep-”

Those simple words have Nanami’s body shivering, sucking in a deep, shuddering inhale when his leaky tip just twitches. Convulsing in a jagged little line along the spongy crevice of your sweet spots, he huffs out an exasperated laugh. “What did ya expect, darling?” He purrs, tucking his face into the sensitive crook of your neck. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon y’know-”

And if you thought that he was already rummaging inside you brandingly, he was barely even halfway in yet.

“Shhh you got this.” Feeding you inch after inch, it’s like it was never-ending. You’ve never been stretched out to this extent ever before, having your cunt all gaping and spread wide open for him. Nanami didn’t even have to crane his head to eye down at you glistening hole, winking up at him sluttily. Just filling you to the brim, the very tip of his drooling cock shoves against your g-spot in an addicted little kiss. Each collision has you slamming further and further up the bed, struggling. Because while Nanami Kento acted the part of a gentleman - his achy dick sure didn’t.

You hips jerk so prettily when he runs a calloused thumb over the very peak of your neglected clit. “You alright, my love? Need-”

“More!” you cut him off with such a cute whine. And it makes his cock act in a way he’d be almost embarrassed about, puncturing deeply into your plushy walls. Leaving a harsh sting of the very divot on his thick tip along your cervix. But it still wasn’t enough. “Please- Wan’ more more more- faster, Ken.”

By now, Nanami knew he was going to marry you.

Oh, how he was going to fuck you exactly like this on your wedding night. And every night after that and after that and-

“Fuck, I love you-” he sputters out, stealing a few lingering kisses on your needy lips. Depraved. Filthy. Bruising with just how fast he was pistoning into you. “Love you love you- gonna marry you, y’know?” His eyes roll to the back of his head, head throwing backwards when you clench. “Gonna buy us a house, make y’my pretty wife- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

Whatever’s left of Nanami’s rationality knows how ridiculous he sounds - the first taste of his pretty wife- well, future wife’s pussy and he’s already babbling about marriage. Fuck.

But you only kiss him back as drunkenly as ever, hungry. Bucking your hips up in a wild way for more. “Mhm- wan’ you to- ah- fuck–” Drool drips down the corner of your mouth, and your eyes are drooping such after every smashing kiss against your g-spot. It’s all you can do to whimper, “M’so close ah- think m’so–”

“Me too-” he grits out, jaw clenching. “Me too me too- hah-”

The raspy baritone of his voice shakes with the incessant smack! smack! smack! of his painfully heavy, cum-filled balls against your skin. Riotous and relentless. Only accompanied by your sweet ah! ah! ah! and those slurping noises from below.

“Cum inside me, Ken-” you moan, voice shaking into a whine. “Don’ want you to waste a drop, p-please cum inside-”

“Then take it-” he gasps out. He’s clinging onto you so tight, so deep. Fingers moving before his useless mind when his thumb grows steadily sloppier on your clit. Tight circles patterning into a rapid M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A- “Take it like my ah! good lil’ wife.”

And you don’t know who’s cumming first, but it only takes a few more throbbing strokes before Nanami just fills you to the brim with all his warmth. It seeps out of you - thick, velvety ropes of his potent seed that can’t stop spewing from his furious, weepy tip. So red and jolting with each of your constricting squeezes.

You gasp, waves of your own high crashing into you over and over with every piston of his hips. And leftovers of Nanami’s cum gushes out of you with each buck of your needy ips.

“O-oh my god-” you’re whimpering, dragging your nails down his flexingly broad back. Babbling away cockdrunkenly, “How am I so- full ah-”

Nanami heaves out ragged sighs, pulling out his twitchy tip ever-so-slightly to let his cum form a glossy sheen of milky white between your legs. And he’s so gone, so utterly fucked-out when he swipes his thumb across that creamy puddle. Bringing it up to plug it into your slack-jawed mouth, “Think I s-skipped a few steps into making you a pretty momma before I made you my pretty wife, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - KEEP UP!

“Is that-” Geto hisses, gritting his teeth ferociously, and it’s all he can do to not just throw his head back pussydrunkenly. To all but grip your trembly thighs in two of his rough hands, peering up at you through long, dark lashes. “Is that all you got, gorgeous?”

The only response he gets are your hips grinding down in sticky swivels to smack against his toned ones. Geto’s thighs come up behind you to just squeeze your glissading body, gyrating up even deeper.

“W-well–” you whine at his mean smirk, your hands greedily dancing upwards to smooth and knead all over his pale, sculpted skin. “-you’re not doin’ any ah- better-”

Fuck, was that the understatement of the year.

It was only the first time Geto was sinking into your sweet, sweet pussy and he’s already so fucked-out. So hungry for more with the way his hips just up ravenously, heady scent making your head spin. Making his head spin - the only thing on his mind right now being why the fuck didn’t he fuck this pretty cunt of yours sooner?

“Heh, thought you said you weren’t all that affected, Sugu?” you’re giggling smugly, which only makes his rosy lips slack open. Wet, gurgling moans being wrenched out with each snap of his hips. It’s only then that you realize - he didn’t even mean to say that out loud. “Wait- You’re not serious, are you?”

“Shut up.”

That vice-like hold on the plush of your hips turns bruising, Geto’s entire body just wracking with a violent shudder until he’s sitting upwards. Hauling you along with him to be splayed out all prettily on his lap, mashing his lips in a simpering kiss.

“Shut up shut up shut-” he spits against your glossy pout. The only thing he can do is thrust, letting his mouth foam with each rut into your sopping wet walls. Growing harder and harder with each jiggle of your ass against his tightly thwacking balls. “Shut up n’ just let hah- let this cunt speak for herself, m’kay?”

His words catch you by surprise, and the relentless squelch! squelch! squelch! of your slobbering cunt rings in your ears.

You lean down to kiss the very tips of Geto’s reddening ears, “So mean.”

At your pouty huff, he bullies in two of his fingers into your drunkenly slacking mouth. Forcing you to suck. To shut up. “So mouthy.” he spits. “So so–”

Geto trails off with a guttural groan, big beefy arms wrapping around your convulsing body until he has you pinned to him like some perfect cocksleeve. He’s whining, “Oh, I can’t- I can’t I-”

And before you know it, he’s pulling out all at once, leaving you whimpering at the hasty drag of his thick cock down your clingy walls. Missing him already.

“I can’t- I need to-” Snap! Geto’s rock-hard dick only engorges even bigger when he tugs on the thin rubber condom covering it, the slap of cool hair mixed with your syrupy sweet juices driving him wild. Rubbing his angrily raw length along your drenched slit, “Please- let me. I need to feel ya for real, please, gorgeous.”

“Yes.” you mewl. “Yes yes yes-”

He’s purposefully leaning backwards on the mattress to shove every inch of himself into your deepest, most sensitive depths. Rummaging his weepy erection inside you until he’s kissing wetly against your sweet spots. And even through his slender fingers hitting at the back of your throat, your whimpers get louder. Pitching up higher. More slutty.

“Hah- ya scream even with my fingers hah- inside your pretty mouth.” His nose breathes a slow, delicate trail down your thundering pulse. “And you say I’m the one fucked-out with jus’ one t-taste.”

He stutters. Geto Suguru stutters.

The one always so sharp with his tongue, and quick with his words can’t stop his voice from cracking. From bearing you with the full brunt of his pussydrunken gaze, and immediately Geto bites down on his lower lip. Pathetically trying to stop any more of his pretty noises from reaching your ears.

“Hngh- Sugu-” you manage to mumble out around his digits. Dragging up one of your hands to pull roughly on his long, inky hair. “So mean.”

“You’re the hah- m-mean one, my girl.” Geto’s next words come out absolutely ruined. Disheveled strands falling all around your face and sticking to both of your sweat-sheened bodies. His dark brows scrunch together, mouth dry like he’s starved. “So mean- taunting me with such a-a perfect pussy. Holding it-” Those dripping wet fingers inside your mouth make their slow, sloppy trail down to toy with your puffed-up clit. Rolling over gently, and back again. “-back from me for so- hah- so fuckin’ long. Y’know how fuckin’ long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this-” His kiss is messy - salty, it hits you each each juttering slam that he’s tearing up. “-Oh, if you knew you’d be scared.”

He’s sounding desperate. Ruined.

Each and every one of his sultry swipes into your g-spot making his head throw back, abs clenching with every blissful shiver. You were so hot. So soft. And Geto fucking cursed the days he spent not fucking you right then and there from the moment he first saw you.

“Y-you said that-” your greedy hips push downwards against his saturatedly cum-filled balls. Sparks of pleasure making something so hot coil at the very bottom of your stomach. “-out loud again. Sugu- ah-”

“And?”

With a smugly smacking kiss against your lips, he’s plowing on, “Can feel how ah- badly ya wan’ me to fill you up. How wet how wet it hngh- gets you to see me s-so ruined like this-” Cold rings of his fingers swirling coolingly inside your mouth - deep. “-my little sadist.”

You moan uproariously, which only makes him chuckle. Low, and hoarse. Dangerous. “And you best believe that when I cum-” Patting your bulging cunt, “-m’gonna have another taste.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Too sweet…

“O-oh–”

Choso can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the pathetic way his deep voice cracks, the way his pretty pink lips fall into a lewd oh! Eyes rolling to the back of his head, thighs shivering after each shuddering little hump.

You let out a drunken giggle, feeling the sloshing of his sopping wet precum splatter all along your inner thighs. “Something wrong, Cho?”

“No!” your dear boyfriend is gasping, dewy eyes just wrenching open in a panic. Long, jittery limbs so fearful of losing even an ounce of that hot drag of your puffed-up pussy lips against his swollen tip. “No no no-” His strong arms come around your body, pinning you against where he had you on all fours. “Please don’t take this heavenly pussy a-away from me, baby.”

The words are so hastily spat out, like it hurt to even say them.

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders, glassy eyes spying down at that ragged rouge blush all over Choso’s face, that pussydrunk trail of drool down his lips, the way his achy cock hung so angry and heavy between his legs. Between yours.

So pretty.

“Well then, Cho.” His bruised lips just wobble at your sweet, sweet nickname. “Why aren’t ya putting it in already, then?”

“B-because-” his breath comes out in a hot puff against the back of your neck, and Choso takes the languid time to leave such a wet stream of kisses up your arched back. “Because m’worried s’not gonna be all you want, my baby.”

And he sounded so desperate. So needy, holding himself back.

A deft hand of yours tangles its way into his dark hair, pulling until your pretty boyfriend just keens. Dragging the sweltering hot tip of his swollen cock along your dripping wet slit. It mixes your honeyed juices together with an obscene squelch!

You steady yourself to just push - ever-so-slightly - down the plush mattress to take a mere inch of him.

And oh that turns him into such a babbling mess, moans hitching in his rumbling chest. Gasping and stuttering out sultry curses while Choso grabs his hands onto the curve of your waist. Hips reeling - forwards.

It only takes a mere moment before Choso slouches over, pinning you into him until you couldn’t move your filthy hips anymore. But the damage was already done.

And before you know it, he’s cumming - before he knows it, he’s cumming. Plugging in your tight hole with just his fat tip, he’s sobbing out thick, potent ribbon after ribbon of cum into your overstuffed pussy. So much of his slippery slick seed, hitting your spongy cervix, knocking on your womb. The sheer volume of it that sticks all around his cock in a creamy ring.

“Wait- oh-” he whimpers, voice shot. There was just something about the way your soaked, gummy walls were closing in on him, trying to just suck something delicious out of him that made it unable to stop himself. “Wait- I can’t oh-”

Muscled thighs spreading out even farther on the plush bed, he gives absolutely no warning before just pounding into you ruthlessly. No rhythm or reason at all. Just reveling in the way your slobbering cunt molds all around him, that jiggling smack! of your ass as he fucks you from behind.

“Is this…” he breathes out unsteadily, chest heaving. Hiking up one of his legs to drive his fat tip against the very bottom of your pussy even deeper. To drill across in thorough, wet glides of splashing cum. In wonderment, “So is this what you f-feel like, y baby- hngh! Is this ah- what- what sex feels like?”

He’s so sloppy, and he’s not even trying to be. Having that glossy puddle of cum spread wider and wider underneath your fervently ramming bodies.

“Mhmmm–” you’re batting your lashes at him.

Choso mashes his lips into yours, groaning out with each sharp hit of his hip bones against the curve of your ass. Whining, “Does- does it feel as good for you?” The hefty swell of his balls grind up greedily into your pussy, getting messier and wetter with every cascade of your juices down his eager length. His long fingers dip down to rub the very tip of your clit. Languidly. “T-tell me, baby.”

And just one swipe of his trembly thumb against your sensitive nub is all it takes for you to just clench, to throw your head back and arch into him even more sluttily.

“Hngh! Feels so good, Cho-” you mewl, big fat tears of stimulation welling up behind your eyelids. “K-keep going-”

“Oh.” he sucks in a shaky breath. And you feel the rotund curve of his cock expand even girthier, stretching out the already-taut channel of your pussy. Roughly, Choso’s grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said his moans were almost pained. “Wait don’t squeeze me like that- fuck fuck fuck- feels too good don’t-”

And when have you ever listened to your poor boyfriend?

It only takes a long, hard clamp around his heated cock before Choso sees stars behind his eyes again, throat run raw with moans of your name. And then he’s cumming - again. At least, whatever sense is left in him thinks he’s cumming.

“Baby, you’re- you’re so mean-” Choso lolls out his tongue deliriously, sucking on your own. Steady tears of his splash onto your skin with each sticky leftover dredge cum shooting out, and you’re left taking each of Choso’s jackhammering thrusts. Leaving you whimpering, being held back to paint your entrance even messier. Until he’s shooting out blanks. “S’only m’first time n’ already so mean.” He swipes a hand over your now-bloated tummy, coating his fingers all over with the absolute sin oozing out of you.

Seconds later, those syrupy fingers bully between your lips. And in a hoarse, husky whisper Choso continues, “You hafta t-take responsibility, y’know?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Twin b*tches, twin b*tches

“Both.”

“Brat-”

“Both.”

And while the infamous King of Curses can do nothing but stare down at you with one of his dangerously quirked eyebrows, you take it upon your stubborn self to bite down on Sukuna’s lower lip. Tugging, “Did I stutt- hngh!”

Whatever bratty sentence on the tip of your tongue is being fully overtaken by such one of the most cockdrunken moans that Sukuna has ever heard. Forcing from your syrupy lips as soon as he’s ramming his angry cockhead upwards into your melty insides.

“Heh, I think ya did stutter.” he’s leering down at you, feeding your drooling cunt with inch after hefty inch of his cock. “First time actually takin’ my cock and you want both? Ya wanna die, woman?”

“N-no–” you’re whining out. “I j-just want all of you-”

In milliseconds, he’s flipping the two of you over - having you thoroughly and deliriously straddled on one of his swollen cocks. You feel Sukuna’s other erection stacked behind twitch at the curve of your ass, gushing out such voluminous amounts of steaming hot precum seeping into your skin. Skin that absolutely thrills when he plants a harsh smack!

“Don’ say things outta ya slutty pussy, lil’ human.” he growls. Shutting you up with pound after pound, engorged shaft stretching every nook and cranny of your gummy cunt open. “S’gonna end up with me havin’ ta take care of your cockdrunk self and you-” You squeal when one of his four large hands wrap snugly around your throat, hauling you to his snarling lips. “-very, very pregnant with my heir.”

If that was meant to be a threat, Sukuna already knows that it didn’t work.

Because it only made your dripping pussy more drenched, more swelteringly tight around his girth.

“Ohhh ya liked that, didn’t ya?” he grins such a feral grin that shows off those sharp canines. And Sukuna’s taking his lazy, blissful time thumbing your bulging pussy open. “Might jus’ be the first to ever want to take both, greedy lil’ thing.”

“K-una–” you push up your ass against his other matchingly rock-hard cock. “Don’t care. Just wan’ you so bad.”

“Aww, jealous are ya?” Throat hoarse, chest heaving now, the bulbous tip of his other cock kisses insistently and wetly at your puckering cunt. He laughs, “Heh- No need, brat. Because- here-”

In true Sukuna fashion, he barely even gives you any warning before just hammering up with both cocks into the very bottom of your heated pussy with a pressurized thrust. Twin heads twinging so harshly that they knock against each other, nudging against your g-spot twice.

He knew what you wanted.

And you were finally getting it.

“Oh.” Sukuna’s red, devilish eyes roll to the back of his head at the way your dripping wet walls were so welcoming. Rubbing up against himself with each shuddering thrust, he’s gripping your chin with another hand, pressing wet kiss after kiss. “Oh you realize that- that m’gonna be filling this cute cunt up hah- twice as much now, hm? S’not too much for yer t-tight pussy the first time takin’ your king?”

He sounded almost…concerned. Benevolent

And all you can do is nod, taking the sloppy staccato of both cocks spearheading you like no other. Feeling stuffed so full, it was like he was knocking up into your lungs.

“Lungs, huh?” he’s tittering, and it barely even registers that you’re speaking out loud. “Didn’t think you’d be this cockdrunk.” He babbles away, feet planting flat on the mattress to fuck up even impossibly deeper. “Gonna give ya my heir- two heirs. Hah-”

Just the very thought of it has you stumbling through the very filthiest of bounces on Sukuna’s cock, pathetically trying to meet his feral pace.

“C’mon now, look at me.” he spits out, leaving harsh bites down your lips, your jaw, your neck. Anywhere and everywhere he could reach without stopping that incessant mashing up against your g-spot with his thickening, throbbing cocks. You’re forced to peer into his greedy gaze. “Look at while I breed you- yeahh–”

“M’so close- Kuna-” you’re mewling, lolling your bleary head down on Sukuna’s push pecs. “M’gonna- hngh- cum-”

For this, you’re rewarded with another stinging smack! onto your ass, before Sukuna easily grabs a handful to drag your drooling cunt up and down his length. “Heh, what a brat. Begged for both my- hah- cocks n’ you’re gonna cum already?” Fucking into you so hard now that you were sure he’d left two matchingly circular bruises on your cervix. “Whatever, cum for me then- but-” His cocks hit the back of your g-spot, making you painfully light-headed, “-ya better give me twins after this, my queen.”

And when you cum, oh it was like you couldn’t stop. Not with Sukuna still dragging you through your high, achy cocks so hard it was like they were about to burst.

Smoothing against your sweetest spots once, twice before he himself cums from one of his lengths such a throaty moan of your name. And for each white-hot jolt of pleasure, Sukuna was painting you all white inside.

“Sh-shit-” you whine, pulling him into the messiest types of kisses that you knew he loved. “M’so full- so- so full-”

Not enough, apparently.

Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that his second, equally as filthy cock was streaming out thick spurts of cum. Staggeringly steamy hot inside you, those sticky sloshes reach your very womb, just slamming up into you mind-numbingly so that Sukuna can be sure it reaches each of your buried depths.

“Would ya look at that.” Sukuna whispers, reverant, almost. Sounding for all the world like he’s so utterly fucked. You follow his line of sight to the creamy sheen of seed drooling from between your thighs, glossy puddle forming underneath you two.

Still-hard cocks jutting up into you without warning. Hard.“One more. I wan’ both of ‘em to cum at the same time.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 360°

“It’ll be just hah- just the tip.” Gojo puffs out hotly against your ear, powerful hips jittering up in a way that made him feel like such an animal. Rubbing his leaky tip rawly between your swollen folds, “Promise- promise ah-”

Your dazed, blinking eyes stare right up at the absolutely ruined strongest. His cerulean eyes all watery and drooping shut with every tentative swipe up those puffed-up pussy lips of ours. And your head throws back with each pretty peck of Gojo’s rotund head against your clit. Sticky. Depraved. Oozing with precum and the lust to fuck into your cute cunt exactly the way he’s been dreaming of for so long.

“What are best friends for, r-right?” he whines against your neck, snickering delightedly at the way your squirming hips buck up mindlessly into his. No matter how much you tried to huff and puff your way into pretending that you don’t want it as much as he’s dying for just a taste right now.

“Toru…” you start, in a scolding tone that already makes him twitch. Entire body jolting with excitement, and you feel his heavy balls rested against your thighs squeeze almost-painfully. “We stopped being just ‘best friends’ about twenty make-outs ago.”

And Gojo only rubs his head along your skin like some overgrown cat, sighing out. “Exactly.”

Biting your lip, you can only watch when he shoves apart your thighs even wider roughly. That thick, red tip positioned precariously between your lips weeping and weeping angrily.

You’re rolling your eyes, “Toru just fuck me-”

And then he’s sinking in - pushing past that first ring of resistance, stretching out your elastic cunt so mind-numbingly wide. You can feel him thrust in sticky, filthy little pushes and pulls of his hips - but you can’t see it, no.

Because just a single inch sunken inside your hot cunt was enough to drive Gojo mad. Eyes blowing wide, breath being just heaved in, and the last thing you caught was the briefest little flicker of blue lightning in his eyes before those seductive bedroom lights just burst.

It wasn’t going to be just the tip - and both of you knew it.

“Hah- Woah.” Gojo’s mouth felt dry, heart thundering when he blindly grips your body with a bruising hold. He sounded almost angry, “I didn’t know it could feel so fuckin’ good.” Voice higher pitched and unstable, he winces when it cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. “Hahaha- ohhh fuck, sweetheart. Remind me why we didn’t hngh! do this sooner?”

Oh, the intensity of it was too much.

Six eyes was rushing at him in full force, and Gojo just hiccups being able to see that outline of his swollen cock enter and split your pussy open. He couldn’t stop. The way that fat, rounded curve was jostling and invading your insides, having your walls melting pliantly around him so good- “Takin’ me so well, especially for the first time. Greedy girl.”

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re chanting, and you feel his cock thicken with each whimper. Blood rushing forwards to mold your walls even wider after each one, gushing out wet honeyed wet precum that sticks to you like a second skin.

“Jus’ Toru s’fine.” he titters, sinking his sharp canines into the side of your neck. It was like a claim. A little message, because after that Gojo was well into rummaging all around you gripping walls. “Though- I don’t mind if ya call me ‘baby’ or-” Smoothing his rosy lips over in a kiss against your forehead, “-your ‘husband’.”

You smack his sculpted chest, with only half as much strength you’d put into it than usual. “Gettin’ s-so ahead of yourself- hah.”

This makes him glide a greedy thumb along the outer edges of your bulging cunt, your pre-soaked slit- all the way up, up, up to where he could see himself knocking up against your g-spot.

“Oh, my girl.” he whimpers into your mouth. Those electric sparks of purple and blue lighting up that drunken look in his eyes, the way his abs flex and contort with each ravaging push fucking you into the bed. “With a pussy this sweet m’never lettin’ ya go.”

One of his greedy thumbs come up to nudge at that curving head of his cock, head throwing back deliriously at the lewd little massage.

You’re just whimpering tearily when his other long, slender fingers dance upwards to tease your sensitive clit, soft pads of his digits unapologetically pinching it. Hard.

“Wait- are you-” you gasping, sitting up on your two elbows at the sudden jolts of electricity. That tiny humming vibration of jujutsu that sparks all the way from your pre-soaked clit - from those big hands toying with it. It makes you just gush, airy and light-headed when you’re coating him in all your saturated juices.

He was fucking you like he was out of control - just long, animalistic drags of his fat cock down your plushy walls. Massaging himself on each and every one of those gooey crevices at your insides, you were so goddamn addictive. And Gojo was hypnotized.

But he wants more. He needs more.

“Shit- shit shit shit-” Gojo already sounded so utterly wrecked, body bowed on top of yours. His face was unabashed - feral, looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you. “Hope y’know I can u-use Six Eyes to tell whether this pretty pussy’s gonna ah- take- to my seed, pretty girl. Whether yer gonna- ah be bred properly like you should be.” He’s nuzzling at your neck, “So get ready for a mess-”

Cutting himself off with a moan, another sloppy stroke that meshes messily with your g-spot. Gojo grins oh he grins, and you’re suddenly reminded why so many fear him. Why he’s the strongest. In the bleary distance, you think you hear another light just explode. Whispering raggedly, “Because I intend to use it.”

A/N. I feel like every time I write for Sukuna I just HAVE to make a reference to that song.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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Day 10

Kink: Double Penetration

Pairing: Shape Shifter/Wendigo!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, monsterfucking, monster Leon, teasing, dirty talk, double penetration, anal penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, anal creampie

not proofread

Leon sits there giggling like a loon at his phone before his night shine eyes flick over to you.

“What?”

You can’t, nor do you want to, stop the smile breaking out across your face as he gestures for you to look at his screen. As you get closer, you see the double jointed hands and a hint of skull around his jawline. You hope one day he’ll understand that you really don’t care how monstrous he looks.

“Chris sent this to me,” he laughs harder as you take the phone away.

A huff of laughter escapes as you read the text.

“Was he referring to you or himself?”

“Oh, me, definitely,” he sighs, taking his phone back before locking it and sliding it into his pocket, “he’s too much of a goody two shoes to do anything to humans.”

“Aren’t I the lucky one,” you roll your eyes before a shout’s wrenched from you when Leon’s hands snag around your waist and pull you down into his lap.

“You are, aren’t you?” He coos, all sugary sweet even as his teeth sharpen in front of you. “So lucky to have me, little mate.”

Leaning forward, he kisses you, softly at first before his tongue licks into your mouth greedily. He rears back suddenly and you stiffen with nerves.

“Did you drink hot chocolate without me?” His oddly colored eyes level at you in accusation.

You suck on your teeth and smile awkwardly.

“Yes?”

He growls and nips at your neck before sinking his sharp teeth into the meat of your shoulder.

“Fuck!” You hiss out, squirming in his lap with slick filling your panties—pussy pavloved into getting wet at the first hint of teeth.

“Naughty girl,” he croons, tongue lapping at the bloody marks. “Now, I get to punish you.”

“It’s only h-hot chocolate, Leon,” you gasp out, hips rocking down on his bulge.

“I know,” he pouts, “but I wanted some. You were supposed to tell me.”

“You were busy,” another gasp pulled from your throat as he roughly sucks on the bite mark he left. “P-promise to tell you next time.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of that,” he laughs wickedly, claws digging into your skin through your shirt.

Standing up, he lifts you easily, monstrous traits bleeding over his human ones. His horns protrude while his tail whips around to slap across your ass, making you squeal. Entering his room, he splays you out across his bed and shreds the clothes off your body.

“Leon, I really liked those,” you gripe, eyeing the jeans in tatters on the floor.

“Whoops,” he smirks. “Guess I got a little carried away.”

His body towers over yours when he joins you on the bed, after—you note sourly—he takes his own clothes off and sets them aside.

“Gonna stuff both your little holes tonight,” he murmurs, eyes glittering in the low light of the room.

Keening, you arch your body off the mattress, enticing Leon to grip your ass and pull you down until you’re draped over the tops of his thighs.

“Can smell how wet you are, little mate,” he rumbles, face slowly morphing into a skull. “Gonna breed you nice and deep, like you deserve.”

“Please, Leon,” you reach out to grab onto his forearms. “Want you so bad.”

“Roll over,” he directs, hands helping you flip over on your tummy. “Think you’re ready?”

You moan and arch your back, “Yes, you’ve been fucking me in the ass for weeks. I’m ready.”

“It’s going to be a lot,” he muses. “But if it’s what the lady wants.”

His lilting voice trails off and you feel wetness dribble across your rim. Mewling, your fingers grip the sheets as he smears lube across your asshole and slides in two fingers to the knuckle.

“Yeah, you can take it, can’t you, little mate?”

His low voice makes you clench down on his fingers as he scissors open your ass. Slipping in a third finger makes you groan and clench, pussy dripping slick all over the bed.

“I think that’s enough. You like it a little rough,” he teases, free hand slapping across your cheeks as he fingers your ass.

Moaning, you miss his fingers as soon as he pulls them out, hole twitching under the digits when he smears more lube across your rim. You both gasp out when he notches one of his cocks at your pussy while the other brushes your asshole.

“At the same time?” You whine, toes curling.

“How else?” He snickers, tail slithering between your thighs to pet across your clit.

Eyes rolling back at the featherlight sensation, you relax enough for him to press each head past the openings of your holes. A guttural sound is pulled from deep in your chest as Leon works each cock into your body. Inch by inch he sinks until his pelvis is flush with your ass.

“So tight,” his voice sounds strained and disjointed. “Taking me like such a good girl.”

Pussy rippling and pulsing around one cock while your ass clenches and squeezes around the other, Leon doesn’t move to give you a little bit of time to adjust to the simultaneous stretch.

“Full, so full,” you slur out, “fuck, s’too much, can’t—can’t take it, Leon.”

“Aww, yes you can,” his tail swirls and circles your clit sending electric shocks of pleasure through your cunt.

“Nooo, I can’t,” you mewl, holes greedily clamping down on his dicks.

“But your sweet pussy is telling me she needs it, just as bad as your cute little asshole,” he simpers mockingly. “I’m just giving them what they want.”

A keening moan makes its way past your lips when he slowly pulls out and rocks back in, the wet sounds between your bodies loud in his room.

You lose complete track of time; the only thing you’re aware of is the give and take of his cocks in your cunt and ass—the absolutely overwhelming sensation of pleasure running through your body until your incoherent with it. Leon speaks to you, but you’re deaf to his words. All your senses are keyed up and locked on the thick drag of his dicks against your walls. His soft tail keeps strumming across your swollen clit, but never with enough pressure to make you climax.

It’s dizzying and heady to have Leon taking you apart like this; his grunts and growls wind you higher and higher, walls tightening around him with every exhalation.

“Cum for me my little mate,” he purrs above your head. “And I’ll fill you so full, you’ll be dripping.”

“L-Leon, p-puh-please,” you stutter, voice wrecked.

“Good girl,” his words drip with sweet derision, pushing you that much closer to your orgasm.

His tail begins to slap across you pudgy clit over and over—again and again—the short stinging spanks snapping that thread of arousal pooling in your stomach and making you see stars, climax wiping out your brain.

“That’s it,” he praises, claws digging into your hips as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum in you, breed your holes full.”

Shuddering, your body tremors and shakes, holes milking his cocks until he’s burying himself balls deep inside you—hot cum stuffing you so full it feels like it’s going to come out of your throat. Crying out weakly, you can’t move as Leon ruts against your ass, cocks emptying rope after rope of his thick jizz.

“So good, little mate, so perfect,” he sighs, pulling you up until your back is flushed with his chest and then easing you both onto your sides.

His strangely jointed hands stroke along your sweaty skin, leaving chill bumps in their wake.

“‘m tired,” you mumble, eyes squinting before slipping shut.

“Rest,” he pats your thigh. “I’ll clean you up.”

“You better.”

You feel him press a kiss to your temple before you drift off.

#RE #resident evil #monsterfucking #monsterfucker

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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“leon, wait i don’t think i can – shit... leon please..!”

you don’t know how long leon’s face has been between your legs already, but you know it's been too long. tears pooling on your waterline, shaky thighs, lips all bloody from biting them, you were so so overstimulated, but leon wasn't even close to done with you. leon’s first time eating pussy and he’s already a goner. two big hands separating your thighs, his nose is bumping your clit, making you squeal.

“sorry, just can’t - can’t stop…”

his hands grip your thighs harder to prevent you from squirming as his tongue dips back in to your hole. eating you out like a starved man without any self-control, leon ruts his length in to your sheets - desperate for some kind of friction. on the brink of another orgasm, your nails grip his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped marks. at this point, you genuinely didn't know how much longer you could last before passing out.

“leon, i can’t – please..i can’t go again…”

“baby, i’m so close. just one more and i’m done i promise – please?”

hearing you mewl and beg, leon releases his grip on you, letting you squeeze his head with your thighs, and his fingers start working on your tits. the soft pads of his thumbs brush against the soft, perky nipple. his middle finger starts flicking them and tugging them, all while his tongue continues to pulse in and out of you. your nipples harden almost instanly from the new senation, which only further drives leon to make you cum. while his tongue continued to explore your soft, plush pink walls, his thumbs continued to rub your nipples in circular motions, squeezing them once in a while. his tongue lapped at your wetness, tasting every last drop of you.

as his nose bumps your clit once more, the coil in your belly snaps and your hands fly to grip his blonde hair as you climax. so fucked out, you can’t even bring yourself to beg leon to stop. squeals and soft screams leave your lips as leon pounds his red, leaky cock in to the mattress for the last time. soft pants and whimpers leave his mouth while he shoots hot, sticky bands of cum in to your soft pink sheets. his hands leave your tits to spread your thighs as his head leaves your dripping cunt.

"thank you, thank you baby – that was… just, thank you.”

your eyes start to flutter shut, but the last thing you see before you drift off in to unconsciousness is leon’s dopey smile.

thank you for reading!! gosh re2 leon is such a dork i love him. likes, reposts, and comments always appreciated <33

#RE #resident evil

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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obsessed with men who make you feel sexy for simply existing—who pop a boner whenever you look at them for too long; who swat at your ass every time you pass by; who can’t not wink at you when an innuendo is dropped. you’re always on their mind—the only person they desire, the only person they need.

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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You hate the 141 pack. Fucking alpha hole wankers who think they're better than everyone else. You've hated them since you were a damn rookie and they looked down on you during training. Yeah you're smaller as an omega, but you're also quicker, have keener senses.

The bitterness goes both ways. You and them do not get along, there have been several attempts to get each other into trouble and it's well known that any op you are on with them comms will be a disaster.

Now the military puts everyone on industrial grade scent suppressants, obviously. Which means it comes as a fucking surprise when you and Ghost run across one another on leave and discover you're fucking scent matches. Obviously the rest of the team can never know, the two of you need to pretend this never happened.

Should be totally doable not giving away that you know he smells like sex on a stick and your omega now craves his cock like nothing else, is now whining to know what the rest of your scent matches smell like. Should be easy for him to explain away to his pack why they are getting feral lust from the pack bond anytime you walk into the room.

Yeah, totally doable and easy. Everything will be fine.

#abo #a/b/o #cod #call of duty

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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…werewolf roommate who’s (unbeknownst to you) bonded with you.

you bring home a guy and he can hear and smell everything that’s happening on the other side of the wall despite the closed door that you think is enough to offer privacy. and since he’s bonded, he’s practically attuned to you, which only makes the entire thing even greater in intensity. it takes every last shred of self-restraint for him to not storm into your room and just rip the guy’s throat out with a single bite.

so he sits on the sofa that’s far too small for him to be completely comfortable, and he tries distracting himself to the best of his capabilities, but goddammit, he can’t help but snarl how badly you stink the moment you finally emerge from your now-empty bedroom and plop down next to him.

but you don’t stink. you smell good, actually; like sticky remnants of arousal and faintly sweet notes of satisfaction. your pussy is still dripping wet after it’s had a dick pushing in and out of it. he can smell it even through the shorts you’ve quickly put on before saying goodbye to your ‘date’, or whatever.

it’s the fact that you don’t smell like that because of him that bothers him. but maybe that’s because he couldn’t match the scent anyway.

after all, he wouldn’t just make you dripping wet…

he’d make you soaked.

#monsterfucking #monsterfucker

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scared-reader · 3 months ago

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week 2 (oct. 11) | overstimulation

✮⋆˙ lay all your love on me (3k)

jason needs to come. a lot. what's a good partner supposed to do but give him a helping orgasm? or two? or three?

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, groping, dirty talk, cum play, slight objectification, hand job, begging, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: working title was "jerking him off until he cries". @sanguineterrain at last the handjob fic i promised you

⊘ this is an 18+ fic. minors do not interact, you will be blocked

Jason Todd enjoys being the little spoon. It takes a weight off of his shoulders to curl up into you, have your chin hooked over his shoulder, and just trustingly melt. He’d been a little hesitant the first time you’d suggested it, sure that because of his size this wasn’t wanted from him. But after that first afternoon he’d leaned in a little more eagerly each time. Looked at you real sweet as he’d hemmed and hawed his way around asking if you two could cuddle again. Innocent, hoping for nothing more than a little light making out. Really, knowing how insatiable your appetite for him has been since the first time you’d kissed, he should have known that the two of you would end up here eventually.

It had started off innocently enough, the two of you spooning on the L-section of the couch he had insisted on buying when you had moved in together. Jason sits comfortably in the v of your legs with your arms wrapped around his stomach, warm and drowsy, some cooking show playing on the TV screen. He’d worn those grey sweatpants, the pair that you have a love-hate relationship with because of just how good they make his ass and thighs look. You haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from the faint outline of his cock through the cotton fabric. If asked, you probably couldn’t even name the show you’re supposed to be watching. He shifts, pulling the fabric tight against his cock. Saliva starts to pool in your mouth.

“Hey d’you mind if I try something?” you ask distractedly, focus narrowing to the crotch of his pants.

“What– OH,” he bites out as your hand closes around his dick, hips twitching and tone breathy.

“Go back to watching your show,” you shush him. “I just want to play a bit. You don’t mind, do you?” you ask. The fabric between your hand and his cock feels super-heated.

“I don’t– I don’t mind,” he manages to grit out.

“Good.”

You move your hand along his shaft, gently squeezing, just trying to map out the shape of him now that you’re in no hurry. He’s a big boy, your Jason, proportional in all the right places. Trapping his dick against his leg, you stroke down, fabric bunching up beneath your palm. Jason’s breath stutters. Not wanting this to be over too quickly, you let him go. His hips twitch, chasing after your touch.

Instead you reach further down and cradle his balls in the palm of your hand. Roll them just to hear him moan quietly in your ear. If you had to guess, they feel heavier than usual, straining against the stretched grey fabric.

“Someone’s feeling a little pent up. Need a hand with that?” It’s some of your worst wordplay but it has the intended result.

“Might be,” he hedges.

Your other hand trails up to his pec and squeezes. His body is a lot more direct about what it wants, cock already fattening up in his pants.

“Getting fucked silly last night not enough for you, doll?” you pretend to pout.

“I cum a lot,” Jason confesses sheepishly, shame colouring his tone.

“Oh I know.” Fondly you think back to late nights in bed, Jason’s cum running down the inside of your thighs.

“I just mean that I hafta come a lot.” He tucks his chin into his chest. “Starts to get uncomfortable if I don’t at least twice a day. Hurts if I’m wearing the cup for patrol.”

You reward him for his honesty with another sharp drag at his twitching dick. On the television a contestant gets eliminated.

“So my big boy’s got a big load. Just more to fuck me full with,” you tell him smugly. He tries to thrust up into your hand, but you pull back, tutting. “Hey, you ever try and see just how much you can come?” You trace his chest through his shirt idly while he tries to piece together an answer.

“No?” his voice rises, tremors running through it as you dig your nail into his nipple. A damp spot starts to appear through his sweats, right where his purposefully neglected cock head sits. “It’s embarrassing enough I gotta jerk off a coupla times a day. Don’t wanna think about it too hard.”

“Yeah? Do you think of me every time you sneak off to have a furtive session in the bathroom?” you ask, half teasing half serious. Your hand closes around his shaft again. “When your balls tighten and your cock kicks in your hand, do you picture me?”

“Ye–ah,” he moans out, chest heaving. You press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw and flick at his nipple just to feel his breath catch.

“Good. Then I’m going to give you something real good to picture tomorrow, and you’re going to show me just how badly you need this. Don’t want my baby doll hurtin’ ‘cause he didn’t take the time to take care of himself.”

He nods, jaw clenching, as you finally thumb over his slit. Dig in to the growing damp patch with the pad of your thumb until fine tremors run up and down his spine. You let go just as he works up the nerve to try and thrust into the pressure.

Tapping at his hip, you urge him “Up, up. I want these off.”

With hands that feel dreadfully clumsy for their size, Jason manages to push his sweats and boxers down just far enough to free his dick from its confines. He almost dies from embarrassment over the way it nearly smacks against his stomach, practically drooling pre-come. On the TV, a new lightning round commences.

“Always so wet for me,” you murmur, slicking your hand with his pre. “I don’t think I even need lube for you, doll.”

The first pass of your hot hand over his bare skin is electrifying and Jason knows his first (of many, he hopes) orgasm isn’t far off. You set a fast pace, an extra twist of your wrist right below the head that has his stomach swooping. It’s white hot pressure, wet and good as you murmur soft praise into his ear. His hips start moving unconsciously, prolonging the drag of your palm on his cock. He moans when you tighten and release your grip intermittently, caught off guard by the sudden change in pressure. Flickering heat builds at the base of his spine, so strong he can taste it like iron on his tongue. Clever fingers pinch his nipples and he careens into orgasm eyes shut, teeth closing around his earlobe.

His cock twitches in your hand as he comes, spurts landing on his clothed chest and tummy. After an eternity stretches out, it slows to a dribble, thick white globs catching on your knuckles as you continue to stroke him through it. Letting go of his now sensitive dick, you drag your hand across his stomach, causing it to twitch, collecting the cum in your palm.

You hold up your hand for his inspection, rotate it back and forth to show him just how wet your hand has become. Embarrassment burns through Jason at the sight, lights up his cheeks and tightens his chest, the image of his copious desperation shining in the lamplight seared into his brain. Cum pools in the webbing of your fingers and starts to roll down your wrist in hot drips.

“Didn’t mean to make a mess,” he says, stomach still spasming and hips still twitching.

“No?” You press warm wet kisses along his jaw. “Then we’ll just have to keep going until you do mean to.”

The first tug at his cock is electrifying, back bowing tight as a string, his head dropping back onto your shoulder. You mouth at the warmed skin of his throat, adding just a hint of teeth as you trace the veiny underside of his dick with a slick finger.

“C’mon doll, I know you’ve got it in you to make a much bigger mess,” you croon, reaching down to tug and squeeze at his balls until he’s moaning like a whore for you. “Want you to give it all to me.” He starts grinding into the air in desperation.

“Please, can I– wanna fuck your fist. Please?” he whines. “Wanna come for your hand.”

You give a slow, leisurely stroke of his cock that has his shoulders shaking, before pulling off completely, hand still clenched in a loose fist.

“You’re so polite.” You press a kiss to his temple, hook your chin over his shoulder for a better view. “Now c’mon, good boys get to take what they want.”

His hips surge forward, every taut muscle in his body working to piston his dick in and out of your fist. It’s a heady feeling, watching him flex and strain under your hands, sweat beading on his forehead. Jason whines when you make him work for it, holding your hand a little further away so his hips have to arch just that much higher. He’s more flexible than you thought, a fact you file away for later. You tighten your grip and pull your hand closer, force Jason to change his pace to something jackrabbit fast, punched out little uh, uh, uhs falling from his mouth. With every stroke he’s slicking his cock up with his own cum, all shiny and wet.

“Look at you, all covered in cum for me. Your dick’s so pretty like this, puttin’ on a show,” you murmur.

“Jus’ f’r you. S’all yours,” he slurs, brain melting out of his ears.

“Yeah?” You press your thumb into the slit of his cock head. “So that means this cock is mine, right?” Jason nods frantically, keeps trying to fuck his whole length through the vice-like clutch of your hand but you’re not done playing yet. You grab his balls with your other hand. “All of this cum belongs to me?”

“Yours, all yours,” he gasps, so far gone he barely remembers his own name.

“That’s right doll,” you coo. Dig your fingers into the sensitive spot just under the head. “It��s my dick and my cum. Mine.” Heat burns through Jason’s veins, hums with the desire-shame thrumming through him and pools in the pit of his belly. “I fuck myself with my cock whenever I want and I get my cum whenever I want. And right now I want all of it.”

“Yeah wanna– wanna give it to you. Please. Need ta come. Need it. Need it need it,” he whines through gritted teeth, tendons pulling tight in his neck. His hands scrabble for something – anything to anchor him – and close around your thighs.

“Be a good doll and come then,” you instruct him, voice heavy with your own lust.

You start jerking him off in earnest, palm wrapped tight around the fat girth of his cock. He keens, body seizing up. A wet hand trails up to pinch at the tight bud of his nipple, leaving damp cum stains across the front of his shirt. Jason comes with a throaty groan on a particularly wicked twist of your wrist, tries to tuck his face into your neck. Rapt, you watch the thick white fluid dribble down his cock, sticky between your knuckles. With a steady hand you stroke him through his orgasm, more interested in the way his dick glistens than the pleasure-pain overstimulation he’s riding.

Cum pools at the base of his dick. Forms a frothy ring of creamy white from where your hand has churned it up, clings to his pubes and gathers in the divot just below his hip bone. Its still warm when you dip a finger into it, use it to draw idle patterns over the skin of his lower stomach where his shirt has ridden up. His muscles twitch and jump under his skin as he lets out a high and reedy sound. Sweat clings to his temples. The hands clinging to your thighs tremble as you continue to tug at his cock.

Jason’s next orgasm rolls over him, builds so gently he doesn’t notice it growing over the harsh passes of your hand over his dick. Only a little cum dribbles out this time, pearls at the fat head of his dick before slowly trailing its way home to your hands. He mewls when you bite down gently on the meat of his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering, his head drops back to loll on you. Fine tremors rack his large frame as he limply clings to you, spent and vulnerable, raw with pleasure.

“Kiss, please,” Jason demands, fucked out and sweetly. Wetness dots the corners of his lashes as he gazes up at you, your pretty boy.

The kiss is almost chaste in comparison to everything that preceded it, closed mouth and sweet. He sighs into your mouth and melts into the cradle of your body. Shifts his hand to thread it through your fingers not currently rubbing cum into the heated skin of his cock. Jason’s mouth chases after yours, starved for tenderness. Pulling back, you lay your forehead on his and close your eyes. The two of you stay there, rough inhales evening out into something soft. Intimate.

“You were so good, baby. So good,” you murmur to him. Jason squirms a little at the praise. Or maybe at the way you slip a hand under his shirt at the same time. “Can you be good just a little longer? Want you to come again–” he whines, starts shaking his head, “–just once. Just one more, okay?” You dust kisses across the tip of his nose, the scrunched up space between his eyes. “You can do this, baby doll.”

“I can’t. I can’t,” he moans. His fingers clench and unclench around yours.

“Yes you can, I’ll be right there with you the whole time. You’re not doing this alone. Why don’t we just try, hmm?”

He looks up at you, hazy eyed and trusting. Jason’s curls are stuck to his damp forehead and there’s high spots of colour in his cheeks. His lips are shiny and swollen from where he’s bitten at them. Tongue darting out between his parted lips, the growing desire to be good, to give you what you’re asking of him, is nearly tangible in the air. What a sweet picture he makes, your doll. He looks like yours.

“Will you– will you kiss me through it? Don’t wanna get lost, don’t wanna be alone. Promise?”

“You can have as many kisses as you want,” you reassure him, squeeze his hand with your own. “You can have as many as you want after too.”

You kiss him and he melts. You kiss him and reshapes himself into the image you create for him. Hips twitching at every feather light touch to his cock, balls drawing up tighter and tighter with each breath. You swallow down every sigh and whimper, soak up the way his breath hitches as you neglect his cock to trail the pads of your fingers across the tense muscles of his stomach. How eager he is to open up to you, mouth parting for your entry. You flip his hand over so you can hold it properly, let him clutch it to his chest for comfort as finally you start teasing his dick again.

You work him over, running the flat of your hand against the length of it just to feel it struggle to get to full mast again. Jason cries out when you finally close a fist around the base of it. He settles down again with another soft kiss pressed to his open mouth. His hips start to roll with the slow, gentle pace you set, eyes closed. He gasps when you speed up the down stroke, still tortuously slow as you glide back toward the tip of his dick. Slowly the muscles of his thighs start to twitch, no longer relaxed as they begin to lock up. Something slow and cloying as tar builds at the base of his spine, tugging and clawing it’s way from the tips of his toes and the prickle of his scalp to settle low in his gut. He forgets to breath.

Jason’s desperate, thrashing under your hold, trying to escape the drag of the blade across his nerves, pleasure spiking. He could break free, if that was really what he wanted. Instead he lets you draw things out, begs and pleads for more.

“S’too much. God. Don’t sto-p. Please.”

He feels strangely divorced from his body as he comes on an exhale, jaw slack and hips arching off the couch. One single spurt and then he’s coming dry. The force of it burns through him, toes curling, heart shaking. He’s light headed, limbs so weak Jason doesn’t think they’d hold him. He pants, trying to force air into his lungs as his ears ring. His molars hurt the same way they do when he touches a live wire. He looks at you with stars in his eyes, white spots dancing across his vision.

“Oh you were so perfect, doll. Didn’t I say you had one more in you?” You nuzzle into his cheek before tenderly placing a kiss there. “And look at how much you came!” Dragging a finger through the puddle around his dick, you giggle. “You’re going to have such a good time jerking off to this tomorrow.”

He groans at that thought, already pained at the idea of orgasming again anytime soon. Still, he lifts your twined hands together to press kisses to your sticky knuckles.

“No more sexy talk, okay? You’re gonna kill me. Let me enjoy the afterglow a little before you start planning to pull my soul out of my dick again.”

“Okay, okay! Glad to know you enjoyed yourself too,” you laugh. “I’ll go get a towel to clean you up and we can restart the episode.”

“The wh– oh.” Jason darts a sheepish glance back at the TV where the credits are already rolling.

#sub #dom reader #dc #dcu #jason todd

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