#18 dead

[omumu]

rip arthur morgan, you would have loved animal crossing

[moons-honies]

Ehe 😁

[fulcrvm]

edwin's IMMEDIATE glance at charles was so fucking funny helpkhjfsdgkhjfdf

+ bonus bc im losing my minndddddd lmaooo

[duckchaw]

And finally, finally!! Day 31 - SPOOKY!

Promptober was an absolute joy I'm so sad it's over

@dbdpromptober thank you for organising ！！

[sadibadimadi]

I’m 68 hours into The Mighty Nein and I adore fjord more than people I know in real life

[jasonsbruce]

[arthursfuckinghat]

Thinking about how it feels like the world of RDR2 ended when Arthur died, how things would never be the same again, how bittersweet it is meeting the people you once were in a gang with, how much it hurts to play as a shadow of someone you lost. That's when most people stop playing.

But the world didn't end, the world carried on. The people you knew moved on, new people you meet spoke fondly of your brother. The world kept turning and showing you that Arthur may be gone, but his memory is all around you.

His name is etched on a memorial hall donation plaque, the beasts he hunted were hung proud on a veteran's wall, the widow he taught to hunt is now thriving, the strangers he helped on the side of the road talk about the man that saved them, and so much more, but most of all - his hat sits proudly on your head and his journal lays heavy in your satchel.

This part of the game has taught me a lot, but it has taught me to move on most of all.

[serenfloras]

whenever the strawhats play uno the casualties are off the charts

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

i feel like i’ve got their designs down at this point i draw both of them a lot

although my designs for them are supposed to be very similar bc of my headcanons for the parallels,, there are some differences :)

[ghostboneswrites2]

hiii! I just wanted to say I absolutely love your fics, you write Daryl so accurate and well 😊 beautiful reads all throughout your page!!

I was wondering if you could write something where daryl comes to like the reader eventually (fem!reader), and she’s shy, keeps her distance, and only is spoke when spoken to, a little like Daryl himself! he then goes to her home to ask her about what stock is needed for foods or something idk haha (Alexandria era) and sees her masturbating through the window, calling out his name, obviously he had no idea she even liked him as she keeps herself to herself. so he joins her, and guides her through it 😉

I hope this is okay to work with if you wanted to use it! Have a great day 🤎🙏🏽

A spider fell on me while I was writing this :') and thank you so much for your compliments they mean the world!!!

Note: OOOOOO SPICYYYYYY 

Don't Stutter

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, graphic depictions of masturbation and smut, fingering

No summary needed, request says it all :)

**NSFW GIF BELOW CUT**

        He watched from a distance as you strolled through the streets of the peaceful community. Not a single incident in months, how about that? It was nice to relax for a while.

        Deanna had put a halt on recruiting for a while, after the attack by the Wolves, so Daryl had kind of been twiddling his thumbs, begging for an excuse to leave beyond the walls. He felt so closed up.

        He had too much time on his hands, too much room in his brain for thoughts and feelings. He didn't like it. Ever since he stopped going out, he crossed your path often. You were quiet, shy even. You rarely spoke up unless spoken to. You didn't make eye contact often, if at all. But most of all, you were beautiful. From your head to your toes. He'd often find himself admiring your (hair length) (hair color) hair. It framed your face perfectly. When the sun would shine just right, your (skin tone) skin would glow in ways he hadn't noticed before.

        Your body was something else entirely. The shape of you drove him nuts. The way your ass swayed when you walked. You didn't even have to try, you were effortlessly seductive.

        He gulped as you walked up your steps and went inside. He wondered how hard it would be to initiate a conversation, to get to know you. He shook his head. Surely that was a foolish idea. As a whole, he had bigger things he needed to be worried about. So, surely asking you about something important would be harmless, right?

        You worked at the pantry with Olivia, who had mentioned to him recently that they'd need to stock up soon. He decided to ask you to make him a list. Then, he'd get to talk to you, and he'd have an excuse to go on a run. Two birds, one stone, right? Right. He sucked in a breath of confidence and strode to your door. He went to knock but his fist stopped just centimeters from the door.

        "Oh.." He heard you whine. Were you crying? He tried to peek through the tall slender windows on either side of your door. The glass was lightly frosted, so the image was blurry, but he could make out a silhouette on the couch.

        "Daryl.." You moaned out louder. His heart stopped. His neck and ears heated ashe gulped. Were you...?

----

        You stared at the sidewalk as you walked home from work. You couldn't get the image out of your mind. Daryl was there earlier, rearranging shelves for you and Olivia. In his tight black button up shirt, his muscles bulged against the fabric, aching to bust out. Or, maybe you were just aching to bust them out. Either way, your lustful mind couldn't get enough. The visual was painted vividly in your mind's eye, and you'd be storing it permanently in your vault of lewd thoughts about the quiet archer.

        The entire rest of your shift was spent silently fantasizing about all the ways you'd let him use and abuse you, if only he wanted anything to do with you. You'd never even spoken to him, beyond a quiet and polite thank you or a curt nod in passing. By the time you made it to your door, you were throbbing between your legs. You couldn't hold it back. You didn't even care to scurry up the stairs and hide away in your bed. No, you simply threw your pants to the ground and sprawled out on the couch, slipping your fingers right inside your panties.

        You started with a gentle trace up and down your slit with a single finger. You stared up at the ceiling, using your imaginary paintbrush to paint a picture on the white canvas. Images of Daryl, his arms, his hands, the way he walked, each drag of a cigarette.

        You got worked up pretty fast. You got tired of teasing yourself. Wasn't lusting over an unattainable man torture enough?

        You slipped a finger inside yourself and sucked in a sharp breath, using your wetness to rub circles over your clit. "Oh..." You whined, closing your eyes, picturing his fingers in place of your own. You sped up the pace a little, rocking your hips as the tension began to build. You pictured the way he'd look down at you if he were there instead of your fingers. How he'd hold you still so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp, how he'd make you cum until you begged him to stop, and he'd probably keep going.

        "Daryl.." You moaned out, feeling a knot build in your abdomen. You were getting so close.

----

        He listened closely. You were moaning, that was for sure, but all he could see through the foggy windows was a blob on the couch that appeared to be moving.

        Fuck it, he thought. The tension was killing him. If you were moaning his name in there, there was no reason for him to hold back and be polite. He only hoped he could catch you in the act.

        He carefully grabbed the doorknob, hoping you wouldn't hear him. He twisted softly, and when he realized it wasn't locked, he pushed the door open.

        You jumped up and pulled your hand out of your panties, startled and wide-eyed as you stared at him. Shame washed over you as he gazed at you, pushing the door shut behind him.        

        "Daryl.." You breathed quietly. Your heart was beating so fast your chest could explode. He made slow steps over to you. Each thump of his boots on your floor made you flinch. "W-What are you doing..?"

        He glanced down at your wet panties and back up to you as he approached, towering over where you sat on the couch.

        "Could be askin' you the same." He rasped. You gulped.

        "I was just--"

        "You were sayin' my name." He cut you off. Your eyes grew wide. So, he definitely heard you.

        "No I wasn't." You lied.

        "Mm." He hummed. "Sure sounded like it."

        "Well even if I was you shouldn't be eavesdropping at my front--"

        "Shh." He hushed, tracing a calloused finger over your lips and down the front of your throat, hooking it on the collar of your shirt. His gaze was predatory, scanning down your body with a sense of starvation that made you tremble.

        He dragged another finger up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He admired the goosebumps that raised on your soft skin in the wake of his touch. His eyes met yours.

        "Tell me to stop and I will." He whispered. Your eyes widened as he leaned in and fluttered shut as his lips brushed against yours. You gasped into the kiss as he snapped with elastic of your underwear against your skin. He pulled back and peered down between your legs. You hadn't told him to stop, but he still hoped his next move would be okay. "Lemme see."

        "W-What?" 

        "Lemme see." He repeated, tugging at the hem of your panties. You were too nerve stricken to act, so you just nodded.

        Slowly, he dragged your panties down your thighs and held them up with a nearly invisible smirk. You glanced at the wet spot and blushed shamefully. "All for me?" He teased.

        He spread your legs wide.

        "Show me." He instructed. Your eyebrows met in confusion. "Show me how ya play with yourself." He clarified.

        "I-- I don't.."

        "Don't get nervous on me now. Sounded like ya had it under control just a minute ago." 

        With a shaky hand, you reached between your legs and aimlessly traced a circle over your clit with a single finger, never looking away from his face. He watched you for a minute and shook his head. 

        "Stop." He ordered. You did. You gasped as he traced his own finger right down your slit one time. "Like this..." He took your finger back to your clit and guided it, gentle laps around your clit causing your hips to jerk. "Now, do it just like that."

        You continued as he took his hand away, holding back the noises that threatened to escape. You kept asking yourself what you were doing, if this was even real. 

        He admired the show for some time, but it became quickly apparent you'd never make yourself cum with him watching like that. You were too nervous and clumsy. You couldn't keep a rhythm and you faltered every time you started to build yourself up to a climax. He gently pulled your hand to the side again.

        "Need some help?" He offered. You didn't respond. "Need an answer, darlin'."

        You hesitantly nodded.

        "Mm. Gon' need more than that." He taunted cockily. You nodded quicker this time, eagerness in your eyes. He smirked. "That's more like it.." He cooed, tracing his fingers up and down your clit gently. You let out a tiny whine. 

        Between him cutting you off right before you came earlier, and all those times you almost came trying to masturbate in front of him, you were so sensitive, and he could tell. Your clit was swollen and red and every little touch made you jolt and writhe.

        "Don't hold out on me. Let me know ya like it." He said as he slipped a finger inside you. You gasped and moaned as he massaged you, slipping a second finger in when he found your sweet spot. You bit down on your bottom lip and rolled your hips. Your moans grew louder and more confident as pleasure crept over you. That bashful, reserved girl from the pantry was quickly melting away, leaving you in a raw, lustful, dirty state. 

        Your eyes closed as your head fell back on the couch. His thumb pressed down on your clit as his fingers worked carefully inside. You moaned again as his rough thumb traced skillful circles over the sensitive area.

        "Say my name." He ordered.

        "Daryl.." You moaned shamelessly. He smirked.

        "Again."

        "Daryl." You whined. He was getting you close.       

        "Look at me." He demanded.

        You opened your eyes and watched him. Your eyelids were lazy and your eyes were glazed and sex drunk.

        "Say it."

        "Daryl." You squeaked. You were so close. That knot in your stomach was back, tied so tight that the rope was begging to snap.

        "What's my name?"

        "Daryl." You breathed.

        "C'mon, darlin.' Ya wanna cum or not?"

        "Daryl... Daryl.."

        "That's it." He slowed his pace to a stop, leaving you right at the edge. 

        "Daryl!" You whined and pouted. 

        He ignored your plea and pulled your shirt over your head before he tugged your bra down to expose your breasts. Your nipples were hard and bumps littered your skin as the cold air conditioning hit them. He pinched one hard, eliciting a small cry. He played with them a little before he slipped his fingers back inside you and worked his thumb over your clit again. You shuttered and exhaled a shaky moan. That was like, the fourth or fifth time your orgasm was cut off right before it started. It was torture. Painful, blissful, pleasurable torture. 

        You flinched and squirmed against his fingers, walls clenching and pulsating around his fingers, making it a little harder for him to work them. Nonetheless, he pressed on.

        "Look at me." He demanded. You obeyed. Your eyes welled up with tears as he built you back up. 

        "Please..."You begged.

        "Please, what?"

        "Please, Daryl."

        "Wha'd'ya want?"

        "Please, Daryl. I wanna cum."

        Triumph washed over him as you begged. 

        "I'm so close." You whispered. 

        "Then say it."

        "Daryl." You cried.

        "Again." 

        "D-Daryl.."

        "Don't stutter."

        "Daryl!" You moaned loud. A wave washed over you as you finally reached the climax. Your body shuddered, legs shaking as you moaned and writhed. He kept going until you rode the entirety of your high, only stopping when he was sure you couldn't take anymore.

        He looked down at the wet stain between your legs where the couch cushion soaked up all your cum, save for the mess all over his fingers. You shook and whined as he pulled his fingers out, watching with your mouth hung open as he sucked them clean and licked his lips.

        "Next time, just ask." He whispered as he kissed your forehead and left your house.

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[mlpcomics]

reflections arc was pretty wild for this one, i think

[heathermason6060]

Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings PT.2

Warnings: Serial killer Daryl, Daryl kills two men who tried to hurt you, rough smut, human hunting, hunting reader through woods, Daryl is mean cause killer (but soft after) soft dubcon but NO noncon

Summary: Part two to the killer!Daryl fic. Reader finds out about Daryl's favorite pastime, and he hunts her down after she runs off.

Notes: Sorry this took so long I didn't have my adhd meds and I couldn't focus on it for more than five minutes at a time. Again, I tried to keep him as in character as possible.

Daryl was surprised, and a little annoyed by the fact his obsession with you had only grown after that. He'd hoped that he'd just fuck you and get over it, get back to his usual self and only occasionally need to go out and hunt. But you only made it worse, he found himself needing to go out hunting multiple times a week.

No one was complaining about his frequent outings though, each time he'd always come back with fresh kills and that was more food in their stomachs. Carol did make a comment about the fact she was cooking deer for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but he just retorted with some playful insult, and she'd shoot him one right back. 

Your presence had become scarce after that night, and over time Daryl seriously grew worried. Even though you were currently the object of his obsession, he still viewed you as someone important to him, despite the way you made him go insane. 

What was once an occasional late-night dick jerking session became an every night type deal, sometimes twice a night. The way you had acted like nothing ever happened between the two of you made it so much worse. 

He'd expected you to get attached after that, constantly trying to get him to follow you off into the woods again, but you were just your old self, sweet and friendly but reserved. 

Daryl fucking hated that. 

His frustration started making him sloppy, and desperate. He picked up his old habit of stalking you, always out of sight but always right behind you. He knew you were unaware, he'd taken every single precaution to avoid giving you even the slightest suspicion you were being watched. 

There was one day he had followed you into the small town down the road. He'd stick one street over, behind buildings and in deep alleys, only keeping you in his sight long enough to see which turn you'd make. 

It turned out his annoyance at your stupidity was warranted. You'd run into trouble, two men who'd been scavenging an old department store and saw you walking by. They'd followed you, just as he did, bewildered by your obliviousness, just as he was. 

He knew they had the worst intentions. Rob you, kidnap, assault, or even all three, but thankfully he never had to find out. Because apparently, you were smarter than you looked, or just very fucking lucky, because you'd lost them between a group of small shops. 

He watched as they tried to find you, stumped at you seeming to vanish in thin air, and he began hunting them instead. 

They were more aware of their surroundings than you had been with Daryl. They could sense him, even though they hadn't seen or heard him, they knew he was there. They quickly switched from predator to prey as they felt his presence, constantly looking over their shoulders and making attempts at getting away through alleys. 

He could practically taste their fear. Their whale eyes flashed around the street, looking at every shop window, every door, every trash can, and in their disoriented fear driven state they ran right into him. 

Daryl moved quickly, his hands grabbing a fistful of greasy brown hair and slamming it against the brick wall next to him. As the man fell over the second whirled to face him, ending up falling right onto Daryl's knife, a shout bursting from his horrified mouth. 

Drawing the blade from his stomach he drove it into his throat, muting any further screams. He then used his elbow to slide the man off his knife.

He watched as the man fell into shock, his hands grasping his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Daryl simply watched, his eyes never leaving his face, soaking in the sensation of his hunger being satiated.

Once his legs finally gave out and he fell to his knees, Daryl turned his attention to the first man, who was slowly regaining consciousness. 

He bent down into a squat and slapped the flat of his blade against the man's cheek, forcing him back to his senses. 

The confusion in his narrowed eyes turned to wide unbridled anger. His lips pulled away from his teeth and he tried to sit upright, only to get a heavy boot to his chest, sending him smacking against the concrete. 

He didn't say anything, which was unusual for Daryl. They'd usually start with threats, insults, rage as they denied accepting the weight of their situation. Then they'd start trying to bargain with him, offer him food, guns, weapons, sometimes cars. And when Daryl wouldn't give them any type of response, only unnerving eye contact, they'd start begging. 

This man hadn’t said a damn word. He kept trying to get up, he'd scoot back away a few feet before Daryl's boot kicked him in the chest and sent him flailing down on his back again. 

“What do you want?” He finally broke the silent struggle, submitting and remaining on the concrete. 

Daryl looked down at the man with that same expressionless look on his face. After a few seconds of this he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his front shirt pocket, making the man beneath him dramatically flinch. 

As he lit the cigarette the man sputtered, trying to speak but unable to find the words. Daryl shoved the pack back in his pocket and took a deep pull, watching as he gave another attempt at getting away. 

This time he got a kick to the face. 

The pain from that alone sent the man into fight or flight. After he scrambled to his feet Daryl decided he'd had enough, and after grabbing the back of his shirt he plunged the knife into his back, drew it out, and sunk it back in in a different spot. 

Over and over he did this.

He left the man rolling on his back on the ground, his once gray tank top soon turning a dark red. 

In the hopes of maybe holding his urges off for longer, Daryl gave a few more stabs to the chest before swiping his knife clean on the dying man's jeans. He slipped it back in his belt and wiped his face with the back of his hand, only making the blood smear worse.

Daryl left the men there and made his way back to Alexandria, taking a deep and satisfying pull from his cigarette before the sight of your red sweater caught his eye.

He stopped in his tracks when his brain processed the image of you, his hand holding his cigarette a few inches from his lips. He felt like someone just pointed a remote at him and pressed pause, the only movement being the smoke curling up and away from his face.

You looked about the same. 

You had a look of shock on your face, but not the type you'd expect someone to have after witnessing a murder like that. You'd seen your fair share of people being killed, you'd had to do it yourself a few times before, but that was always a kill or be killed scenario. 

Those two men weren't trying to kill Daryl. 

You'd caught sight of them in the reflection of a store window and knew they were sneaking up on you, so you'd darted behind an old coffee shop and climbed up the ladder. Once you were sure you'd lost them you climbed down, walked past two shops and around a corner just in time to see Daryl repeatedly kicking the man to the ground, behaving like more of a leopard playing with mice. 

You'd watched the entire thing stretch on for what felt like hours, your eyes following every plunge of the knife, stabbing everywhere but the one place that would instantly dispatch that man. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments. You only finally reacted when a chunk of ash fell from Daryl's cigarettes, watching it as it floated to the ground, looking back up to his face when it landed with a puff on the sidewalk. 

“What was that?”

The innocent tone of your voice felt like he was the one who got stabbed in the chest. 

Daryl always had a perfect way of killing. He'd play his role as some dumbass redneck who looked super easy to take advantage of, and they fell for it every time. They'd try to rob him or attack him and only then did he react, grappling them with movements he'd perfected to the point of it being an art. He'd always made sure that if there was the slightest chance of Rick, Carol, or anyone in his group somehow seeing, it could be read as necessary self defense. 

But there was no way to explain away what he'd just done right out in the open, in broad daylight. Part of him wished it was Rick who'd seen him, not you, 

Rick was no stranger to the deep satisfaction killing bad people brought. But you? He remembered once back at the prison you'd been torn up for days after having to kill someone who'd been attacking you. And that was a quick bullet to the head to a man who wanted you dead. 

Finally, he took the cigarette back to his lips and took a pull before speaking. “They were gonna do worse to you.” 

You knew he wasn't lying. But by the look on your face you didn't accept that, that wasn't the real reason why. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose and looked off into the distance somewhere, Daryl could see the wheels turning behind your furrowed brow. He tried to remember all the excuses he used to think of when he was in the shower, running down every worst case scenario. 

“How many times have you done that?” Your unspecified question had him unsure of how to respond. You blinked in frustration before elaborating. “Killed someone you didn't need to like that. All emotionless.” 

���Lost count.” The boldness of his answer made you scoff.  He stepped forward till he was inches away, maintaining steadily intense eye contact. “You gonna do somethin’ bout it?” 

You weren't expecting him to challenge you so blatantly like that. Your jaw dropped as if you were about to speak, go off on him or lose your shit, but suddenly, it just didn't matter anymore. Maybe it was your brain trying to gaslight you into just moving away from the tense situation, but you closed your mouth and nodded once before turning on your heel. 

Daryl prepared himself for some speech about morals in the apocalypse but you spoke before he had the chance.

“We should get back, Carol's making soup for dinner.”

That night you had successfully rationalized what you'd seen Daryl doing(gaslit yourself). Those men were evil, if they had the upper hand or maybe more numbers they would've done worse than what Daryl did. Even though it wasn't a quick death, it was nothing compared to what they would've done to you. 

In the back of your mind though, you knew that wasn't the main reason for what he did to them. He'd shifted into a completely different being then, it wasn't human, or animal. He had become almost soulless, his actions so mechanical it looked like a set of commands he'd been wired to do. The way every single move was so calculated, the way he knew what they'd do before they did it, down to the way he cleaned the blood from his knife on their clothes. 

Your blood ran cold when you remembered that first night in the woods with Abraham and the others. The way you felt his presence behind you even though you never heard or saw him. That must have been what those men felt, the primal instinct that they were being watched. 

You felt stupid for thinking he was following you that night because he had a thing for you. You really didn't want to believe he was capable of hurting you, but that was hard when you could vividly remember how tight he squeezed your neck and the way he looked into your eyes when he did it. 

If you didn't have a good reason to avoid him before, you sure as hell did now. 

But you really didn't want to. 

Every night you'd think about it again, the specific details becoming blurry as you imagined him doing it differently. Your heart would speed up when you'd imagine yourself in their place, walking through the woods and becoming aware that you were being watched, your fear only growing worse when you'd look around and wouldn't see anyone, but the feeling of him drawing closer persisting nonetheless-

Your stomach dropped when you realized your body had reacted differently to the idea of that then you had normally. Your heart rate was fast, like usual, but instead of anxiety spreading in your chest you felt a deep flipping sensation in your core. 

It had been a few days since you saw him. You knew he was always there, inciting a deep and unsettling paranoia in you. 

Rick invited the inner group over for dinner and drinks. 

You smiled as he handed you a glass of red wine, that same sly smirk he always had for you on his face. You were standing against the wall of his living room while the later arrivals finished their meal in the dining room. 

“You've been quiet.” Rick's voice had once been enough to soothe any anxiety that you might've had. But now it did little, akin to the background humming of indifferent frogs and crickets. 

His voice called your name and you forced yourself to look up to his face, nearly crying at the sight. You wished you could tell him everything, weep into his arms and have him shush away your worries, explain it all away and go back to the way things were. 

His expression grew serious then. “You okay?”

“Have you ever…” You glanced around to make sure there were no eyes on you. Everyone was minding their own business, chattering happily as they enjoyed Rick's spaghetti and wine. 

“Killed someone you didn't have to kill?” Your quiet voice had his posture stiffening. He shifted his feet as he nodded, mulling over your words before he spoke. 

“We've all done things we're ashamed of. If it's in the past, let it rot there. Nothin' you can do to change it.”

“Have you?”

It took him a while to answer. He inhaled deeply through his nose before leaning in closer to you, his tone darker. “Why are you asking me?”

“Someone here did that. Two men. They were bad men, but… they were trying to run away.”

“Then they did the right thing. Those men could've easily come back with more people.”

You sighed, shifting closer to him. By now you were only inches away from each other, and you could smell the cologne he'd put on before dinner. “He looked like he liked doing it. It wasn't… quick.”

Rick eyed you for a few silent moments. 

“Daryl.” It wasn't a question, he already knew the answer. You looked up to him, your eyes wide and worried now, but he settled you with a firm glare. 

“Sometimes a man does things that you don't need to worry about.” He spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “All you need to know is he protects you, and keeps your belly full. Alright?” 

You didn't know how to feel about learning that Rick knew. He didn't know the full extent, no one did, no one knew about the trophies and the hunting, or the meticulous planning that went into Daryl's killing. 

“Alright.” For some reason, it sets you at ease. If your leader said it was fine, then it had to be fine with you.

Rick's expression softened and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to give you a comforting squeeze. You melted into his touch and closed your eyes, trying your best to ignore the burning on the side of your face from the hunter in the corner of the room.

 

The air was unusually cold.

You tried to steady your breathing as you walked through the familiar forest outside Alexandria. 

You couldn't feel him yet, but in your bones you could sense it, almost like he had a tracking tag on him that would make your heart race faster and faster as he drew closer. 

If you concentrated hard enough you could imagine him in real time, right about now he'd just be getting into the woods, picking up your tail-

The bolt of anxiety that went through your chest at the image had you picking up your pace, walking faster down the familiar path that eventually led to a river. 

It wasn't long before you felt it. You looked over your shoulder at the scene behind you. The forest floor, covered in dead leaves, the thin trees with gray bark that were randomly spaced out, and nothing else. Your eyes burned as you tried to see as far off into the distance as possible. Nothing. You couldn't even hear the normal wildlife, no birds, crickets, cicadas. 

You turned back around and pulled the sleeves of your black turtleneck down over your cold wrists. 

The feeling grew stronger as you walked on. The sun was setting, the normal bright yellow light fading into a gentler orange. 

It started with the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up. You'd turn around and see the same nothingness as before, only this time not being able to see as far due to the setting sun. 

The overwhelming urge to run overcame you and you looked over your shoulder again, your stomach falling ten stories when you saw nothing. That was worse than seeing him lurking behind. At least if you could see him, you'd know where he was. He could be anywhere. Your breath trembled and you resisted the screaming in your body to run, but the sound of a stick cracking had you breaking into a jog. 

He was close now, you could feel it. You didn't turn around anymore, you couldn't, if you once again were met with nothing you'd start losing your sanity. 

Soon it would be too dark to see. The idea of trying to hide from him in the pitch black forest had you running, and you didn't stop until it was too dark for you to do so without tripping. 

You caught your breath behind a large oak and waited. The silence was starting to get to you. Where the hell were all the birds? The cicadas that are always screaming this time of year? 

Where the hell were the walkers?

It was dark now. You looked ahead of you and felt like you'd fallen into a deep freezing cold lake, your vision had dramatically decreased to around five yards in front of you. It was getting dark so fast, the silence only seemed to be growing louder, you began to doubt yourself, you were way in over your head, what were you thinking? You were the only person alive who saw Daryl Dixon stab a man to death, a man that was actively trying to escape, just because of what he might have done, and YOU thought it was a good idea to play hide and seek in the woods with him? 

You waited too long. By the time you heard the distinct sound of featherlight footsteps it was too dark, you couldn't see anything. When you looked up you couldn't even see the moon or any stars, were the trees too thick? You didn't see any clouds that day, your head spun and you tripped over your feet the second you tried to step forward. 

Adrenaline surged through your body at the animalistic fear of being vulnerable around an unseen danger. You scrambled to your feet and froze, your eyes as wide as they could be in hopes of being able to see better. 

To your left you could barely see the backdrop of the dark blue sky behind the trees. You turned in a circle, and tried to look back to the sky, but in your turning you'd completely disoriented yourself. The way you'd come was just as lost as what was once your left. 

You felt a coldness run deep in your bones when you realized you had no idea which way Daryl was. 

If this was some innocent game of hide and seek you'd complain about the unfair advantage he had over you, most of his life he'd spent out in woods just like these. 

In a last ditch effort of self preservation you remained still, kept your eyes open and unblinking, and listened. 

Nothing. You couldn't hear a single fucking thing. If not for the sound of your own breathing you'd wonder if you'd gone deaf without even realizing it. You raised your hand in front of your face and blinked hard a few times, trying to will your eyes to become as good as Daryl's. 

Time ticked by no matter what you did. Without anything for you to hear or see it became harder to keep your balance, and your arms slowly lifted from your side to steady yourself. 

Your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft. You felt a brief tingle of confusion before all at once your heart leapt into your throat and your stomach dropped to your feet when you came to the horrifying realization of what you just touched.

Fingers. 

You snatched your hand away like you'd been stung, and with how fast you did it, you spun and fell to your knees. Your body couldn't react quick enough, you could hear leaves from what sounded like every direction, and you froze. 

Was that even Daryl?

You hadn't even seen him for sure, you had no proof whatsoever, not even a hint to go by, those could be walkers. For all you knew, Daryl could be back in Alexandria skinning a deer for dinner, clueless to your absence. 

You felt a different kind of fear as your mind dug yourself deeper and deeper. All you had on you was a comically small machete and a pathetic little flashlight. You'd imagined this going very differently, which was your own damn fault. You should've learned by now you couldn't predict anything about Daryl. He'd shown you that time and time again. 

You were too busy thinking about how stupid you were to notice the silence was back. But once you did, you forced yourself to your feet, and pushed on. Your arms reached out blindly in front of you as you took baby steps, trying not to gasp each time your fingertips grazed a tree. 

It took everything in you not to scream when you felt it again. A hand, but instead of reaching out to meet your outstretched hand, it ghosted up the small of your back. You whirled around and reached out, desperately trying to grab a sleeve, a finger, anything to pull yourself to, like the ladder in a swimming pool. 

Being met with empty black air almost brought you to tears. You lurched forward, trying to predict his position, but just as silently as he arrived he had sunk out of reach. 

You were ready to beg. You were wrong, you didn't want this, you were so fucking scared.

Just as you began to work up the courage to speak, your feet flew out from under you as you were shoved in the chest, hard. A dull pain shot through your ass and you kicked your feet in the dirt in front of you, pushing yourself away from his direction. But he was five steps ahead, his fingers grazing the top of your scalp. 

You yelped, spinning around to get up on your knees, not even managing to get one foot on the ground before you were shoved back in the dirt again. 

Something about that final push set you into fight or flight, so you got to your feet and ran. 

Daryl was right about your ridiculous luck. You made it pretty far before you ran into a tree, smacking into it with the edge of your shoulder so hard it spun you around again. Once again you had no idea which direction he was in so you got up, and tried again. 

Apparently he'd grown tired of toying with you. You'd managed to run about twelve feet when your only information of his location was the sound of heavy footsteps running after you. 

The realization he was fucking chasing you, full on running, terrified you so badly you found yourself unable to form thoughts anymore, your brain turned off as your body did everything possible to survive. 

You managed to surprise him. Instead of continuing straight you veered to the left, which would have been a very impressive feat had you not run into another tree. This one was huge, and thankfully you had slowed down enough that you didn't hurt yourself running into it, but it did scare the fuck out of you. 

You used your hands on the trunk to guide you, shimmying around the edge until you were pressed on the other side, your back flush against it.  You held your breath and waited, not daring to make a single sound. 

That feeling happened again. He was looking at you, but you didn't know where. Your eyes were utterly useless but you still looked frantically in every direction, only being met with utter blackness. 

There was nothing you could do. A small part of you felt relieved, at least you didn't have to try so hard anymore. Slowly, you let out your lungful of air, trying to be quiet. But it wasn't getting out fast enough and your lips opened against your will, causing you to shudder out a terrified breath. 

He had been two feet in front of you for a while now. His eyes, although not superhuman, had over time adjusted enough to find his way through dark woods like these. He could see the outline of nearby trees, and the figure of your body pressed up against one. 

The silence had quickly become something the two of you were extremely used to. So when there was a sudden shift in the air followed by wind shifting the leaves of trees above you, it startled you both. 

The sound of leaves moving right in front of you sets you off again. You prepare to make a break to the left, but unbeknownst to you, Daryl could see the way you angled your body, your right leg braced behind you. 

He smirked and threw out his foot right as you bolted forward. Your legs flew out from under you and you landed hard on your stomach, the air being knocked from your lungs. 

Daryl watched as you tried unsuccessfully to breathe again, your lungs spasming before finally snapping back to normal. You greedily gulped in air and weakly attempted to roll over on your side. 

He crouched next to you and reached out, using the back of his knuckle to brush hair from your forehead. You jerked violently, your hands flying up to try and fight him away. That made him chuckle, and you felt a whole new rage of emotions after having his identity confirmed. 

It really was Daryl. If that was a good thing or a bad thing you weren't sure of yet, but at least you knew for sure it was him. 

“What'd you think was gonna happen, huh?” He muttered, his hand grabbing your wrist and yanking it from your face. “Go off in the woods alone again, start runnin’ in the dark, ain't nobody tell you runnin’ just makes things wanna chase you?”

The more he spoke the more aggressive he became, his other hand latching onto your other wrist to hold you firmly in place. It didn't stop you from struggling, which only made his prey drive even more active. 

“What are you gonna do?” Your voice and the way it trembled made his upper lip twitch. He stared down at your face, another sick grin forming when he saw you grow more and more terrified the longer the silence stretched on. 

“Daryl, please.” 

The grin fell from his face then, something about the way you sounded like you were about to cry setting his teeth on edge. He let go of your wrists and ran the back of his knuckles down the side of your face, his touch tender. He saw you relax a little at that and he leaned down, brushing his lips so lightly against yours you could've mistaken it for the wind.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You breathed and nodded softly; the fear of dying being replaced by a delicious different kind of terror. This could easily become an addiction.

His gentle actions slowly hardened as his fingertips trailed down from your cheek to your jaw, the pressure increasing until he reached your throat, where his hand slipped into that perfect fit around your neck. 

“I think you need a little wakeup call princess, you don't get to tease me like this and change your mind cause you get scared.” He said the last word like an insult, as if it was a ridiculous fuck up on your end. 

“Shit don't work like that anymore.” His tone took this edge of meanness, something that made your lower stomach flip. 

Your chest fluttered with your shaky breathing, and you nodded, filling him with a deep satisfaction. He squeezed his hand around your neck with no warning, no slow increase in pressure, just an immediate white knuckled squeeze. 

Right as you saw little flashes of white at the edges of your vision he relaxed his hand, but he kept it there like some kind of warning. 

He released his hand and replaced it with something cold, your mouth dried instantly when you realized it was his knife. 

“Get up.” 

You slowly stood with him, making sure to let him guide where your head went, not wanting to risk getting nicked. 

Then it was like he disappeared. 

You waited a few moments, your eyes flickering around the different shades of black. 

A bright orange glow had your pupils dilating painfully. After being in pitch black darkness for so long the small flame from his lighter felt like staring into the sun. 

He looked terrifying then. His cigarette between his lips and his cheeks dipped in as he pulled in to help the tobacco light. His eyes flicked up to you for less than a second before he snapped the lighter closed and you were left with an orange dot where his face once was. 

You stood in the same spot, not daring to breathe, your eyes locked on the orange dot as it moved from his lips to down at his side. You weren't sure what he was expecting of you, so you remained standing as long as he felt like torturing you. 

A minute later the orange orb vanished with a hiss as he put it out on his boot. You heard the light tap of it falling in the dirt, where he proceeded to grind it with his shoe. You deeply missed that orange dot, it gave you something to focus on in the black void. 

His hands were rough as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around. You gasped at the sudden roughness, your heart jumping after standing in silent nothingness for so long. The knife was back on your throat, his other hand slipping up under your turtleneck. 

“What you saw the other day,” His breath was hot against the shell of your ear as his hand groped and squeezed your sides, growing more firm as he slid it up to your breasts. “Can't have anyone knowin’ ‘bout it.” 

Your first instinct was to nod, but the blade against the side of your throat made you think twice. “Mhm. I know.” You hummed out your anxious promise, your hands clinging onto his forearm for dear life. 

“I don't think you do.” His voice was calm and steady, the opposite of the angry way he pinched your nipple. Your whine caught in your throat and you clenched your teeth, baring them in a pained grimace, much like a submissive animal.

“You're a stupid bitch,” Those words held so much fiery emotion despite how cool and collected he sounded. You swallowed a whimper as he went on, “but you ain't dumb enough to go and open your mouth.” 

He didn't appreciate your lack of response, you'd been frozen from the way his hand had dipped under the waistband of your jeans, fingers barely grazing your panties. 

“Makin’ me think I might be wrong.” He growled and pressed the knife firmer against your neck, and you immediately snapped out of it.

“You're not. I won't, I promise.” Your ass moved against the hard dick beneath his jeans, making him hiss out a curse. 

In this game the two of you played, he had a level of excitement and vigor that was previously unknown to him. He rested his forehead on the back of your head and inhaled deeply, holding the flowery scent of your shampoo in his lungs like it’d get him high.

He loved the way you played this role so perfectly. Growing up watching slasher movies through puberty wasn't the sole reason for his degeneracy, but it played a large role. Drifting around selling drugs with Merle to unsavory people added to it too. 

Daryl finally dipped his fingers under your panties, taking his sweet time rubbing circles in the skin all the way down to your slit. When he felt how wet you were he sucked in a gasp before he could stop himself. You'd been working that up for a while. By the way your panties were soaked, he'd guess you got all worked up the second you slipped out of Alexandria.

Your grip on his forearm tightened as he stroked your clit, swirling his finger around a few times before dipping down through your folds. 

Without meaning to you held your breath in anticipation, begging to any higher power to have him go easy on you. You couldn't take another night like before, especially not in the middle of the woods. You strongly believed that when he finished with you and saw the state you were in, he'd just leave you to find your own way back when you stopped being a pathetic mess. 

Your prayers were answered and he angled his hand in a way that allowed him to push his middle finger inside you, your walls greedily squeezing around him. Now that you were pretty sure he wouldn't actually kill you, you allowed yourself to enjoy every drop of pleasure he'd give you. 

You moaned shamelessly when he shocked you by not just driving it in and out, but he fucking curled his finger.

“You bring any walkers over here and I'll leave your ass in the dark.” His tone held a venomous bite, but you were fairly certain he wouldn't actually do that. You weren't taking any chances though so you pressed your lips tightly together and tried to steady your breathing through your nose.

His head bumped gently against yours as he moved his attention to the top of your ear, his lips warm against the cold skin there. You nearly crumpled in his arms at the feeling, and when his tongue traced the tip of your ear you physically shuddered against his chest. He trailed a few kisses from your ear to the back of your neck, giving into his impulsives and sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. 

It took every ounce of concentration to remain quiet. He couldn't tease you like this, do every little trick in the foreplay handbook, and expect you to keep quiet? 

His finger curled again the second time, sending a jolt through your core and down your legs. When he felt your nails dig into his forearm he nudged your head again with his, tilting you so he could press his cheek against yours. 

If not for his hand down the front of your jeans and the knife he had on your neck, you would've passed for a sappy couple posing for pictures. 

Just as you'd relaxed against his chest, your head tilting back to rest against his collarbone, he started curling his finger at a consistent pace. You whined deep in your throat, your eyes squeezing shut against the frustration of pleasure, but not enough. 

His hand pulled out from your jeans so suddenly you actually made a genuine whiney noise, already frustrated and impatient. The knife returned to its former deep pressure, immediately setting you straight. 

He popped open the buttons on your pants and pulled down one side, bending his knees to pull them down over your ass, making you awkwardly twist and bend with him. 

Your body reacted subliminally to the sound of his buckle clinking as he unbuckled his belt, your back arching to press yourself closer against him. His breathing had ever so slightly gotten heavier while he worked to take his dick out, his mouth sending hot puffs of air against your ear. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling, and even more so when you felt his swollen tip bob between your legs after he freed it from his pants. 

You were lucky Daryl wasn't in the mood to take longer than necessary to fuck you. It was a bit selfish on his part, he no longer cared about your pleasure, instead choosing to solely make himself cum with your pussy. Made no difference to him if you came or not. The wind carried the faint smell of rain and he could hear the beginning rumble of thunder in the distance. 

He spit on his fingertips and slathered it over his tip, tugging on his dick a few times before guiding himself to your hole. Just as greedy as before, he pushed inside you, slapping his hand over your mouth to muffle your whines of discomfort.

Daryl's downstairs department was nothing to make light of, he was blessed with a heavy dick that was the perfect length to fill you completely so not a single millimeter of space was untouched. 

But Christ, the girth, he didn't have the type of dick he could just slide in you without giving you a stretch that burned. Unfortunately for you, he didn't really care that much, it went away after a minute and didn't feel like a big deal to him. 

You groaned into his palm, your eyes rolling back into your head when he immediately set a rough pace. The angle he fucked you in, standing upright with your ass stuck out for him, it had his tip slamming into that perfect spot every single thrust. 

The knife suddenly fell from his fingers, landing on your boot with a thump, but before you could react his hand quickly replaced it. His left arm wrapped around your waist, using it to keep your hips angled in towards him. With his right hand he squeezed your neck, gradually increasing pressure until he felt your hands on his arm start to loosen their grip. 

He released the pressure, the oxygen and blood returning to your brain to give you an amazing head rush. He waited until he felt your nails dig back into his skin before squeezing again, repeatedly bringing you to the brink of unconsciousness before letting you come crashing back down to earth. 

With the arm he had around your waist he moved his fingers over your lower stomach, feeling around for a moment before pressing the flat of his hand down right where he felt his dick. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp at the feeling, wondering where the hell he learned that, you knew he hadn't fucked anyone ever since you'd known him. And with the way he was when you first met him in Atlanta, you seriously doubt he was experienced enough to know how to do something like that. 

Daryl was a lot more simple than you were trying to figure out, he just liked the way he could feel his dick moving if he pressed down hard enough and fucked you deep enough.  The fact it felt amazing was just a lucky side effect for you. 

The next time he started choking you he squeezed a little tighter, the feeling of your throat shifting under his palm had him growling curses into the crook of your neck. Your back arched harder, your body desperate to feel him deeper. Him fucking you fast and hard, coupled with the way his grip on your neck kept cutting off blood to your head, suddenly became way too much and you came around his dick, your walls squeezing and holding onto his length with all its might. 

Daryl felt his eyes roll back in his head and his dick twitch at the feeling. “That's it girl.” He muttered out encouragement, knowing he needed you to hold out a few more minutes. If you got all whiney and weak like last time he'd have to stuff his shirt in your mouth. He was already lucky enough that somehow there were no walkers nearby, he couldn't take the chance to try and push his luck. 

His encouragement worked, your body melting against him as you soaked in the rare praise. 

“Yeah, that's it. Atta girl.” His voice was so low and deep you could feel it vibrate in his chest against the top of your back, sending little sparks of pleasure through your core. 

He picked up the pace, his hand falling from your neck to grab both sides of your hips. Carefully, and slowly, he guided you down to your knees, keeping his dick inside you as you both knelt in the dirt. He put his hands on your upper back and pushed, forcing your arms out from under you so the side of your face was on the ground. 

The feeling of his large rough hands pushing your back down had your stomach tightening again, and it only got worse when he shifted your ass higher up against his pelvis. He was back to his earlier pace in no time, thrusting hard and fast, one hand still pushing down on your back while the other did the same to the side of your head. 

It got harder to keep quiet the longer he went on. When he suddenly grabbed your ass and held it tight against him, forcing his dick in deeper, you came unexpectedly, breathing so hard it sent the dirt next to your face poofing away. You clenched down on him again, your back arching obscenely, and rode the dizzy waves of your orgasm, quickly forcing him to have one of his own. 

Daryl spit out a growl and slammed into you a few last times before he came, his grip on your hips keeping you immobile as he emptied himself inside you. Even after you twitched from the last bit of your orgasm and started moving to get up, he grabbed hold of your hair and smashed your head back down. Maybe it was a power move, because he held you down like that for a while, his dick buried so deep inside you his cum wasn't able to trickle out yet. 

You waited what felt like five minutes before you spoke up, your voice hoarse from all the heavy mouth breathing. “Daryl?”

He barely let you finish the L in his name before he cut you off. “Shut the hell up.” He muttered, his heavy hand still pressed against your face and the other holding your hips tightly against his. 

He would've been content to stay like that for a while, just to torture you some more, maybe keep you there under him until his dick got hard again. But the rumble of thunder was getting closer, and he didn't feel like getting caught out in a storm. 

When he finally released his grip on your hair and waist you sighed in relief, lifting your face from the ground to brush the dirt from your cheek. He pulled his softened dick from you and groaned when he felt the cool air on his sensitive skin. 

You were dreading getting up and the walk home when you heard the familiar hissing and groaning of a nearby walker. You pulled up your pants as slowly and quietly as humanly possible, your eyes still trying with all their might to see in the dark forest. 

Daryl clicked on a flashlight for a split second, just long enough to catch the location of the walker.

In a bright white flash you saw three of them about ten yards out. Your moaning must've attracted them, and your stomach twisted when you remembered Daryl threatening to leave you there if you drew any walkers over. 

A large warm hand slipped into yours and he helped you to your feet. It was so kind that you were almost more concerned with the action than the fact you were in pitch black darkness with three walkers heading your way. 

He slung his crossbow over from his back and clicked the flashlight on again, only for a split second. They weren't much closer. He took them out, clicked the light again, and saw a handful more far, far back. You could definitely outwalk them. You sighed in relief and wiped the dirt from your palms and face. 

“Can you walk?” He whispered as he slung his weapon back over his shoulder, slipping his flashlight in his front jean pocket. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You whispered in return and took his hand again, trying not to let silly childish emotions start clouding your mind. You weren't some teen girl with her first real boyfriend, you were a woman holding the hand of a cold man who killed for pleasure, a man that just hunted you through the woods like you were some fox or cougar. And he was freakishly good at it. 

He led you back to Alexandria in a way that harshly contrasted his normal exterior. His hand was gentle but firm and he didn't rush you, not once. Even when you snuck back through the back wall he stayed with you, albeit letting go of your hand. He took you to your house, made sure you got in safe, and did something at the door that had your heart pounding even more than when he chased you. 

Daryl looked at you for a moment, uncertainty clear on his face. You could tell he was thinking of hundreds of different things at once, and it kind of looked like he was nervous. 

He leaned in and placed his open hand at the base of your neck. Not squeezing, not grabbing or clenching, he just barely cupped your skin, his thumb tracing against the red and purple marks from his hands and teeth. You'd covered the last ones up with makeup, you could do the same with these. 

You opened your mouth to reassure him of this but he leaned in, and kissed your forehead. 

Then he pressed his forehead against yours. Your heart was racing painfully at this point. You watched as he looked into your eyes for a second before he closed them. You followed suit and closed your eyes, savoring the intense affection. It was so strange to you. You couldn't remember the last man or woman you'd been like this with. And the fact it was Daryl Dixon pressing his forehead against yours, right in the doorframe of your front door…

You decided then you didn't give a shit what he did for fun. You didn't give a shit if he felt the same way either. Maybe you could delude yourself into thinking that one day. You decided right then you'd walk through hell and back to get just a taste of this feeling again. 

The feeling of his hand unfolding yours had you opening your weary eyes. You looked down and blinked, seeing a small white dot in the palm of your hand. He drew away from you then, muttering a quick ‘found this earlier’ before fading down the stairs and up the street to his house. 

You rubbed your finger over your pearl earring and smiled. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial

[nuge]

from being the youngest captain of the nhl to losing after being down 0-3 and forcing game 7. i don't care what you say. this is his team

connor mcdavid | EDM @ FLA | 06.24.2024

[cervvsq]

rules.

18+ — MDNI.

president!coryo x firstlady!reader

summary: you disobey one of coryo’s rules, and the punishment goes too far.

WARNINGS: dead dove do not eat (kinda), rape, somnophilia, spanking, p in v, alcohol use, hair pulling, ANGST. any more lmk! please READ AT OWN RISK.

coriolanus was an extremely ambitious man. he was calculated, authoritative, and knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. no wonder he made such a powerful president.

so when you came along, he made sure you would fall right into his trap.

coriolanus would like to think he had trained you — trained you to be his perfect, obedient, little wife. a dazzling first lady which had the capitol admiring the two of you. over the past few months of being betrothed to coriolanus — not only had he learned and taught you who you were, how to be — but you had discovered things about him as well. maybe he wouldn’t see it just yet, maybe not ever, but you saw. You saw how he had adjusted to you. your needs. that gave you some sort of comfort as you obeyed all of his needs without complaint.

to any ‘normal person’, you would think, would be absolutely tortured at being ripped away from normal life, to live with an arrogant, narcissistic and (most likely) sadistic man. even if that man was the most handsome, wealthy man in the whole capitol.

so why did you find such pleasure in this involuntary marriage?

maybe it was the soft touches coriolanus would smooth over you whenever he touched you. no, it couldn’t be, because the calm yet threatening words which would leave his lips did not send any sense of comfort throughout you at all. it was always the same message, in different words. “never, ever try to leave me.” would be the warning. the demand. the threat of what would happen if you dared to was not something you would like to find out.

maybe it was the contrast to that. the harsh touches combined with the gentle words. when his fingers would leave deep marks in your hips as he roughly abused your cunt, not stopping even when tears were in your eyes. in fact, that only spurred him on faster to bring you to your climax. it would pain you, his thrusts, his grip, but the words leaving his lips made the raw fucking blissful. no matter what it was. “mm, that’s it. that’s my girl. such a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you?” he would say as another cruel spank would land on your pink ass. “oh, baby…” he would coo into your ear, almost patronising. in fact, it was patronising. getting treated like a child every single day but still being expected to live up to his pathetic rules. but all frustration would be seeped out of you by the end of the night.

whatever it was that lingered a growing fondness for whatever was between you — you didn’t want it to end.

it was so frustrating to admit at first, but there was no denying — even in his sick, twisted ways — coriolanus was a good husband. no wonder you had grown to like this life, you would tell yourself. coriolanus would constantly shower you with riches.

whether it was expensive, rare, or near impossible to get, coriolanus would command every one of his workers to search the entire planet if they have to, to get what you wanted. only on one condition, though: never leave him.

you learned this a couple weeks ago. and oh, how coriolanus made you remember.

it was at the dinner just before the important gala, and wealthy husbands with their cheap wives were all sat surrounding the table in coriolanus’ manor. you recognised no one, but had taken quite a liking to the wife of felix ravenstill. a man coriolanus disliked heavily — but anyone would chop their left arm off to have some sort of connections with the president.

that was one strike, anyway — associating with someone who coriolanus did not give permission to. you knew this when you felt coriolanus’ hand tighten on your thigh when you smiled gracefully at felix.

the second was when you and felix’s wife began to converse. specifically about something coriolanus did not care for — vacations. to him, vacations were useless and a waste of stress. “why leave the place where you already have anything and everything you need?” he would say to you whenever you asked. but you knew the real reason was because the risk of losing you if you travelled anywhere else was higher.

mrs. ravenstill laughed heartily at a comment you made. “oh, you should join me! i’m going travelling out of panem soon, whilst my husband is dealing with work. it would be a delight to have you there, mrs snow.”

you didn’t catch the way coriolanus’ jaw clenched, the way his eyes were staring daggers into the woman’s unknowing face. the way he had stranded his conversation mid way as soon as he heard those words directed towards you. the audacity that woman had to try and take you from him. his knuckles were as white as his last name, and your response sent sizzling rage through him.

oblivious of your husbands bubbling anger, you simply nodded and smiled wider. “that would be wonderfu--“

“unfortunately, my wife and i have many plans over the next few weeks. my apologies.” snow cut in, speaking over you as if you weren’t there. no one batted an eye to this, and if they did, nobody on the planet would think to correct the president.

your heart dropped faster than you could process. you knew that tone. you knew that seething look in his eyes. you knew all too well of the painful grip on your thigh underneath the table. shit. fuckfuckfuck. how could you be this stupid? your expression fell cold as you dreaded what was going to happen once everyone left.

swallowing down the fear hollowing your entire body, you smiled, but this time it didn’t reach your eyes. not able to get your words out, you nodded, taking a shaky sip of your wine which lasted a little longer than usual.

after the slow, agonising hour left of the dinner, the time finally came. by then, you had already drank 3 glasses of wine, and saying you were tipsy was an understatement. you would most likely be in trouble for that too, but you didn’t care at this point.

as soon as the last person left the grand double doors, coriolanus grabbed you and pinned you against the wall so harshly your head slammed against it. you were internally thankful for that alcohol you had drank, otherwise you most likely would’ve already been shuddering in pain. but all you did was giggle as he glared down at you, your head leaning forward to rest against his chest drunkenly.

“lift your fucking head up when i speak to you.” he growled, his voice on an edge. it was clear he wasn’t playing these silly games.

you mumbled incoherently, which angered him further. without warning, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and ragged your head up to look at him, his jaw ticking with the way your pupils were dilated and the lazy smile on your parted lips. it was clear your drunken state found this all very amusing.

“fuck..” coriolanus cursed under his breath as he saw your behaviour. he was a smart man. he knew whatever he said or did to punish you for tonight, it wouldn’t mean anything. you would simply wake up with a sore body (and a red ass), not learnt anything. and even if seeing you bent over his knee, whimpers and mewls leaving your throat as his hand came down repeatedly onto you does get him off, the point was so you learn. so you learn not to make a fucking fool of the president as his dutiful wife. so you learn who exactly is in charge.

throwing you over his shoulder, earning another slurred giggle from you, he walked upstairs.

you don’t remember anything after that.

the last thing you remember of that night haunted you up until this day.

you remember waking up, head all hazy and body internally screaming with fight or flight response. confused, and barely able to form a thought, you opened your eyes.

you vividly remember coriolanus on top of you, his rough hand firmly pressing against your neck as he pounded into you relentlessly. he seemed to not have realised you had become conscious, because his head was still thrown back, groans and grunts escaping his throat. fear rattled through your squirming body. flashes of him on top of you came peering through your vision in between the black spots as you slowly felt yourself losing consciousness again. you couldn’t breathe. the closer he got to his climax, the tighter his hand was around your neck.

somehow, you managed to gather up all the remaining strength you had, sinking your teeth into his shoulder harshly. this must’ve caught him off guard, as the last thing you heard was his loud grunt of pain before you passed out again.

he had raped you.

hehadrapedyouhehadrapedyouhehadrapedyouhehadrapedyouhehadrapedyou.

that was an ongoing loop throughout your mind. a broken radio, incessant, timeless. you woke up to him cradling you in his arms, and you immediately felt sick. but you didn’t dare move — your body wouldn’t allow you to. and thats when you realised something — something so scarce, so outlandish, it had you doing the same.

coriolanus snow was crying. the president of panem, the man who had killed dozens of people and millions more to come, was crying.

his usual stone cold demeanour had vanished, now replaced with quiet sobs that racked through his body. the constant, “‘m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry,” ’s that he whispered into your hair. you didn’t say anything. you didn’t move. you didn’t even dare to breathe. this was all so excruciating and unusual, your own cries began coming out and joining his as one.

neither of you mentioned it once.

but you could tell he knew. he knew what he had done, and he knew you knew. and worst of all, the toll it was taking on you was agonising.

a flinch would rack through you whenever his hand brushed over your neck, and God forbid what was going to happen when you two have sex again. neither of you had touched each other sexually since then, only small, gentle kisses and delicate touches.

you hadn’t conversed that you didn’t want him to go back to his old ways — the punishments, the bdsm. but he knew. you both knew.

you could see the effect it was having on coriolanus, too. ever since then, he had been treating you like you were a fragile glass doll, ready to shatter any second.

he spent way more time at work now, yet still made sure your needs were satisfied every 30 minutes. he never once raised his voice or displayed any anger towards you if you accidentally broke one of his precious rules — well, if he was angry, he definitely didn’t show it. but you noticed every little thing. you noticed the eyebags slowly growing underneath his eyes even though he would come to bed the same time as you every night. you noticed when he would come down for dinner with red eyes and ruffled hair. you noticed how, behind his eyes, he was scared every time he touched you.

you noticed how he had bought a whole new bed because he couldn’t bear the thought of what he did to you on the old one.

[gnvrkhuroo]

sweet letters

pairing. leon kennedy x f. reader

warning. smut. cnc. i won't list every single kink; i think it would be better if you read the story yourself and discover them along the way! enjoy reading ;)

word count. 3.9k

notes. this piece is fictional and solely intended for the reader's satisfaction and imagination. the author does NOT condone or endorse any real-life activities that may be depicted. reader discretion is advised.

a/n. you thought this would be a soft and sweet comfort smut? haha, no.

finishing the note with a small heart, i put on lipstick again. gently pressing my lips to the empty space below the letter, i leave a kiss mark—

"no, no, no, that's too much," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head.

you hurled your pen across the desk, its scratches tearing through the words. with a frustrated grunt, you ripped a page from your notebook, crumpled it, and flung it to the far corner of your room. leaning heavily on your desk, you buried your face in your hands. it had been weeks since you started working on your college project, yet aside from the title—sweet letters—you hadn't made any progress.

you stared at the cursive title, fingers gently hovering over it, while your other hand massaged your forehead to ease your growing headache. still, nothing came to mind.

after a moment of contemplation, you decided a change of scenery might help. you gathered your notebook, pen, phone, and laptop, stuffing them into your white shoulder tote.

securing the locked door of your dorm behind you, you made your way to the elevator. as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, your eyes immediately fixated on a bouquet of lavender resting on the rail inside, wrapped in newspaper and tied with a plain, shiny purple ribbon.

you stepped inside, positioning yourself near the buttons, and pressed the ground floor button. contemplating for a moment, you stole glances at the bouquet reflected in the elevator mirror.

curiosity piqued, you reasoned that checking it out a little closer wouldn't hurt, especially since you were alone. you just wanted to know who it was addressed to and why it had been left there.

approaching cautiously, you gently picked up the bouquet, inspecting it for any clues—perhaps a name or a hidden note—but found nothing.

you gasped as your phone began to ring, softly lowering the bouquet back into place. a smile spread across your lips.

"leon, baby!" you greeted with excitement.

a faint chuckle echoed through the line, followed by his soothing voice. "hello, love," he greeted in return. you could hear the smile in his voice. "how have you been, pretty girl? did you like the lavenders?"

you gazed at the bouquet, feeling your shoulders relax. "are these from you?" you asked, lifting the lavenders again and hugging them close to your chest.

you heard your boyfriend hum in response. "figured you needed something to boost your mood, so i got them for you. from my garden, by the way—finally able to grow them myself," he boasted.

"thank you," you said, inhaling the lavender's scent before snapping a photo of yourself with it and sending it to leon.

he chuckled. "so beautiful. i miss you."

"i miss you more," you replied. then a realization struck you.

the elevator dinged again, and its doors began to open. your eyes widened in alarm as you repeatedly pressed the close button. finally, they landed on him outside the building, staring straight at you.

adrenaline surged, and you nearly punched the button to your dorm floor as leon sprinted towards the elevator. thankfully, it closed just as he reached it. collapsing against the wall, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror for a bit.

as the elevator ascended, you knew you only had a few seconds to reach your dorm and lock the door before he caught up. when it finally reached your floor, you bolted through the hallway.

another ding echoed behind you, signaling his arrival on the other elevator.

you heard his slow footsteps as he exited the elevator, and your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when his pace suddenly quickened, transitioning from walking to running straight toward you. your heart thumped loudly, and your ears began to ring with anxiety.

fumbling through your bag, you searched for your keys, finally slowing down as you reached your door. struggling to unlock it, you managed after a while and immediately turned the knob to enter. you threw everything you were carrying onto the floor and attempted to shut the door.

to your dismay, he was already behind you. before you could slam the door shut, his foot blocked it, preventing you from closing it completely. a hand slipped through the gap, pushing against the door with force. you were too small and light to push it shut, so you stepped back and darted towards your bedroom door instead.

but he was too fast. leon managed to catch the bedroom door and flung it open. you backed away slowly, retreating as he stood in the doorway, blocking your escape route with his imposing frame as he stared down at you.

leon lifted you over his shoulders and carried you to the bed. with a swift motion, he threw you onto the mattress and climbed on top, effortlessly flipping you onto your stomach. his weight pinned you down, preventing any escape. with a swift motion, he used the shiny purple ribbon from the now scattered lavender bouquet on the ground to tie your wrists together behind your back.

you kicked and screamed, legs thrashing to push him off, but he only pressed down harder. his bulge pressed against the curve of your ass and chest flattened against your back as he slid his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure on the sides to make you feel lightheaded, without cutting off your airflow directly at the larynx.

"look what you did," he shouted, nuzzling his nose against your shoulder while his hand tilted your head to look at the mess on the floor. "i grew them for you. it took months for them to bloom so beautifully, love," he chuckled darkly, sending shivers down your spine.

leon tapped the pad of his index finger under your chin before sighing and moving back. he knelt behind you, his hands tracing down your spine and over your ass. he gave them a rough squeeze, causing you to hiss, then suddenly delivered a sharp slap that made you jolt forward in pain.

"keep pissing me off, love," he murmured, his fingers teasing the hem of your shirt before lifting it up. you heard him take a sharp intake of breath as your bare back was exposed to him. your shirt got caught on your tied wrists, so he ripped the clothing off and threw it onto the ground, your skirt followed suit. "i do enjoy hurting you, especially when i hear you cry."

"so fucking beautiful," he breathed, his hand brushing your hair aside to get a better look.

he then hooked his fingers onto the strap of your underwear, playing with the lace for a moment before letting go. the band snapped back against your skin, causing you to bite your lip to stifle a cry of pain.

"are you crying already, love?" he teased in a mocking tone, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to face him. "baby, i haven't even done anything to you yet."

his face softened when he saw you sobbing silently, tears streaming down your adorably flushed cheeks. his heart ached for a moment seeing you like this, but the way you bit onto your soft, plump lower lip made him believe you wanted more.

"do you feel sorry, love?"

it took you a second to process his words over the loud beating of your heart, and you nodded in response.

"you have a mouth. use your words, baby," he said warningly, giving you a gentle slap on your hip.

"yes," you managed to sob out, eyes shutting to avoid his stare.

"yes, what?" he demanded, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look directly at him.

"yes, leon, i'm sorry—" you replied almost instantly as he delivered a gentle slap across your face, cutting your words off. his other hand still gripped your jaw, making the impact worse since you had to keep steady.

"sir," he corrected sternly, "you'll address me as sir."

you bit your lip, chest heaving from sobbing as you tried to quiet down. "yes, sir. i'm sorry."

he hummed in satisfaction, his posture straightening as he continued, "why are you sorry, pretty girl? what did you do wrong?"

"i ruined the lavender bouquet you grew and arranged just for me. i shouldn't have done that. i'm sorry," you added quickly, panicking, "sir." you stared at him with widened eyes, hoping he'd let you off the hook.

he released your jaw, pushing you back onto the bed. you whimpered silently as you fell, struggling to get comfortable with your hands bound behind your back. the position was awkward, but you shifted as best you could to ease the discomfort.

"spread your legs," he commanded.

you hesitated for a moment, propping yourself up on your elbows. slowly, you complied, spreading your legs apart. the embarrassment was overwhelming, so you avoided his gaze once again.

leon's brows furrowed as he leaned in, his hands tracing your legs until they settled below your knees. he pulled you towards him, causing you to slump down on the bed, your legs pushed up toward your shoulders.

he began rubbing your clothed core, feeling your wetness coat his fingers through the fabric. for a brief moment, you stopped breathing, overwhelmed by embarrassment at your vulnerable state, unable to cover your face or hide from him.

your breath hitched as he pushed your underwear to the side and spat on your clit. "pretty," he commented, his thumb beginning to circle on the bundle of nerves, eliciting silent gasps from your lips. "i'm going to breed this fucking pussy, yeah? fill you up with my seed until your little tummy's swollen with my seed."

"leon—"

he delivered a sharp slap to your needy clit, making you wince and instinctively shut your legs in pain. he forcefully opened them apart, his knees painfully pinning yours in place.

"what did i say?" he demanded sharply as he slipped a finger in without warning.

you couldn't respond, arching your back from the sudden intrusion. your eyes shut tight as your mouth hung open slightly. his roughness intensified as he moved his hand behind your head, grabbing a chunk of your hair and yanking your head back to look at him. you yelped, tears clouding your eyes as you stared up at him through your dampened lashes.

"to address you as sir," you choked out, your body trembling as he pumped his finger in slowly and agonizingly.

he hummed in response, slowly releasing your hair and slipping in another finger, making it two. leon maintained the same torturous pace, causing you to sigh in disappointment.

he chuckled, leaning in close to your ear, his unusual smirk drawing your eyes to his face. "such a needy little slut," he cooed. immediately, you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "did you tightened up? fucking whore," he scoffed, his fingers beginning to move in a scissoring motion, forcing your walls to adjust. "did that turn you on?"

you nodded shamefully in response, which annoyed leon slightly since you had forgotten again. "speak up, dumb bitch," he demanded sharply.

out of nowhere, he increased the pace of his fingers, his palm slapping against your clit with just enough friction to send waves of shock through your body. his fingers curled to hit that spot that made you arch your back and see stars. your head fell back, brows furrowing as you started to feel lightheaded. leon planted soft, wet kisses on your exposed neck. his free hand finding its place on your breast, gently groping it while his thumb and forefinger occasionally pinched your nipple.

"s-sir," you stuttered, trying to call out. "'s too much."

his hand that had been on your breast swiftly moved to your clit, rubbing it while his other hand continued its torture inside your needy cunt. you arched your back, unable to move away, his knees digging into your legs adding to the pain and pleasure you were feeling.

leon roughly pressed your lower abdomen flat onto the bed, his fingers relentless in their mission to force an orgasm from you. you shrieked out, unable to do anything but accept the overwhelming stimulation. the more you struggled against the ribbon binding your hands behind your back, the tighter it became around your sore wrists.

feeling the knot in your lower abdomen about to snap, you closed your eyes tightly, anticipating that satisfying release—

but it never came. leon had pulled his hands away and stepped off the bed, a huge grin playing across his lips as he stared down at you—needy, whimpering from the loss, and disappointed.

“not yet, love,” he teased, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking them as if savoring the moment.

your breath hitched, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded, “please.”

leon shushed you softly, leaning back towards you. his hands caressed your cheeks, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. “i need more from you,” he whispered before meeting your lips with a soft peck that quickly deepened into a passionate kiss. you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of his neediness instead of your growing frustration. “give me a few more, baby, and i promise it’ll be worth it.”

you pulled back, gasping softly, your lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. “c-can’t, sir,” you murmured.

“yes, you can,” he sighed. “now, please turn around love and get on your knees. i’ll untie the ribbon, okay?” with a firm but gentle touch, leon turned you over, his hands on your hips guiding you carefully to prevent you from face-planting onto the bed. “that’s my good fucking girl,”

leon crawls closer behind you, caging you with his body as he plants loving kisses on your shoulder. he unties the ribbon around your wrist, caressing and rubbing the bruised skin where the tight ribbon had left marks. tenderly, he allows the blood to flow freely for a moment, easing your discomfort with his touch.

he then gently separated your wrists and guided them onto the bed to support yourself on all fours. leon shifted to the edge of the bed as you glanced back in curiosity. in his hand, a stack of envelopes, tied together with another shiny purple ribbon, awaited your attention. handing them to you, he gestured for you to open them.

“open the letters one by one, baby,” he began, “and read them aloud, please. i wrote these during my missions away from you. i want to hear your voice.” leaning closer, he nestled his nose against the tender skin between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your sweet scent.

"o-okay,"

“okay?” his voice sharpened with a warning.

“yes, sir,” you reply almost immediately.

you removed the ribbon from the stack and selected the top envelope, adorned with delicate cursive: "for you, my love." setting the remaining envelopes beside you and leon on the bed, your hands trembled as you tore open the envelope and gently extracted the paper to read:

november 2004

i've been infected by the las plagas parasite; signs of the transformation are showing. veins are creeping across my body, love. i fucking miss you so much. 

leon’s hand settled on your hip, tracing soothing circles on your skin while you read aloud. his lips moved to your neck, sucking, nipping, and leaving his mark.

i miss the feel of your soft, warm skin against mine. your warmth gives me an inexplicable feeling of relaxation when i'm with you. how i wish i was on the couch with you tonight, fucking you until your legs give out.

his hand slid down to the curve of your ass, then began tracing along your slit. he lubricated his fingers before pushing them in. your mouth hung open in a silent moan, your back arching as you lose balance, shifting from supporting yourself with one hand holding the letter to resting on your elbows.

“keep reading,” leon commanded sternly from behind you.

“y-yes, sir,”

the thought alone makes me long to return home and see you, your pretty face contorted in pleasure as i look down at you. i want to feel you tightening around my cock so badly, your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

you bit your lip, pausing to bury your face in the sheets as he continued to drill your dripping cunt with his thick fingers, his other hand rested on your hips firmly to keep you steady. leon’s thumb poked and prodded on your other hole, pressing deeper to gauge your reaction.

you gasped and leaned away from his touch, prompting leon to pull you back towards him abruptly.

i fucking imagine biting down on your clit, hear you scream my name until you're squirting all over my face. i want to devour you completely. for now, all i can do is jerk my dick off to your picture and imagine you're doing it for me. i'm going insane.

fucking need you.

sincerely, leon

you let out a sharp cry, eyes squeezing shut as you moan that you’re so close to finishing, toes curling as the tension in your stomach tightens. you cry out in ecstasy until—

leon pulls away once more. you whimper as your body collapses sideways on the bed, already exhausted.

"alright, next one, baby," leon took the paper from your hand and set it aside before reaching for another envelope. as he did, you took a deep breath, brazing yourself.

leon grew increasingly forceful with each letter in the stack, fucking his fingers harder into you with every word. adding one finger at a time until all four were deep inside your abused cunt. with each stroke, leon teased you, denying you the sweet release you craved. by the time you reached the second-to-last letter, you had lost track of how many times he had edged you, leaving you struggling to form coherent words. your speech had devolved into gibberish, much to leon’s thorough amusement.

"leon, please, no more," you sobbed, pleading desperately.

"be patient, baby," he said, the grin on his face replaced by a gentle smile.

your eyes trailed down, following the movements of his hands as he began undoing his pants. they fell to the floor, followed by his boxers. you gazed at his length; it was long and thick, the tip red and aching in need, pre-cum leaking from it. he stroked himself a few times before climbing back onto the bed and kneeling in front of your face, his knees positioned on either side of your head.

holding his length in one hand, he tapped the tip against your lips. "suck," he commanded.

you stared up at him through your lashes, licking your lips to moisten them before giving the slit of his tip an experimental lick. his brows furrowed as he held back a groan, his hand finding its place on the top of your head, guiding you.

you gave his shaft one long lick before taking the tip into your mouth. swirling your tongue around, you began to bob your head, slowly taking him in inch by inch until his entire length was inside your mouth. he held you in place for a moment, letting his whole cock rest in your throat. only when you started to gag did he pull your head back.

leon backed away slightly, his hands now resting under your knees again. he pushed them up until they were almost on your shoulders. guiding his cock with one hand, he rubbed the tip against your folds to lubricate himself before pushing in slightly.

you gasped as you felt his tip spread you wide open. you could barely handle how girthy he was, let alone the thought of taking his full length.

leon leaned in further, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close until his lips found the back of your ear, where he nipped at the skin, leaving bruises. "big stretch, love," he murmured as your brows knitted together. without warning, he slammed his entire length inside you.

you bit your lip to suppress any sound, tears threatening to spill as you stared up at him with hazy vision. he settled into a slow, gentle pace, allowing you to accommodate his size. leon's hands cupped your cheeks, pampering you with soft, ticklish kisses all over your face, making you giggle amidst the pain.

"you alright, baby?" he asked, pausing from kissing you to gaze into your eyes with concern.

"y-yeah."

leon gradually increased his pace until he found the rhythm that made you moan louder. he settled into long, deep thrusts, maintaining a steady pace that allowed you to feel his length brushing against every sensitive spot, sending shivers of delight through you.

your boyfriend maneuvered your position, pulling you closer to him. he placed your legs together on his left shoulder and began pounding harder. you hadn't realized how flexible you were until now, as leon explored different positions to deepen his penetration and feel more of you. he just couldn't get enough; your arousal seemed to draw him in further, your walls tightening around his cock with each movement. it was as if you were urging him to cum inside you.

"sir," you moaned out.

he grunted, feeling you tighten even more because you were already so sensitive and nearly at your peak again. edging you really heightened your nerves; even a simple caress on your skin made you feel hot and bothered. but leon wasn't complaining. he loves how responsive your body is, knowing that only he could bring you to this state.

your moans echoed off the walls and filled the room, mingling with leon's deep groans that reverberated in your ears. your throat, legs, and hips all began to feel sore as your body became drenched in sweat and your own juices. his grip on your legs started to hurt with each deep thrust of his hips, and all you could do was whimper.

"are you about to cum, pretty girl?" he smirked, but his focus faltered as you come undone. he shut his eyes as he felt your walls squeeze around him, forcing him to pause his movements. his shaft was now coated in your cum, some dripping from your cunt down towards your ass.

"l-leon!" you cried out, almost screaming, as leon continued pounding into you relentlessly, fucking you through your climax. he leaned in to kiss your lips, your eyes rolling to the back in your head, unable to focus as you tried to catch up to his kisses.

"i haven't cum yet," he said, pulling you onto his lap without slipping his cock out even an inch. "so fucking beautiful," your lover wrapped his arms around your waist and began bouncing you up and down on his cock. your hands flew to grip onto his shoulders, your fingernails digging into his skin, likely leaving deep crescent marks later.

"am sensitive," you whispered almost too quietly, your legs already giving out, your body limp. leon manhandled your body fully, and you were unable to control anything anymore. you laid your head on his shoulder, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past your lips every time your ass met his balls.

he chuckled softly, nuzzling his nose into the valley between your breasts, inhaling your sweet scent. "i know, slut. already so fucked dumb," he whispered beside your ear. "have i finally filled that useless brain of yours with nothing but my cock?" he scoffed. "disgusting, greedy slut. such a good fucking girl for me." his mouth latched onto your nipple, abusing the overly sensitive bud with his teeth. his fingers then found your clit, rubbing circles to intensify the sensation, coaxing one final orgasm from you.

you yelped, attempting to escape but his arm around your waist tightened, restraining you furthur. "wait, leon, am going to break. s-sir, can't cum anymore—"

"yes, you can, love. you know i won’t stop when i'm this close. i'm going to come inside you. is that okay, baby? i mean, you do love me, don't you?" he gazes up at you, his pleading eyes and a genuine smile suggesting that it might be okay to let him do it inside you. with one final, deep thrust, leon buries himself completely, ensuring not a single drop was wasted. "imagine mini versions of us running around. you'd want that too, right? of course you fucking do."

closing author's note. this took longer than expected, and although it might seem rushed, i'm pleased with how it turned out. i made some last-minute additions to align with the title, but overall, i hope everyone finds it satisfactory. more oneshots will be released soon, and i plan to publish them during this break as i'll be busier once university starts again. ♡

[scoutsweet]

JJK - Sukuna/Yuuji

I've been in my skit era for months now lmao! This is from lonely cicadas, melon popsicles - a story I'm writing with a friend and we're also illustrating each chapter :>

(It's an 18+ dead dove story so please mind the tags if you look!)