#I had to beat it into submission and handcuff it to me when it wasn’t looking

[kennedyalike]

won’t you be a good boy for me?

leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags: vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, smut, femdom, sub!leon, handcuffs, teasing

summary: basically you handcuff leon and make him beg for your pussy 😊

word count: 1,5k~

”Don’t do that.” He chuckles under his breath as he yanks on the handcuffs he has on, desperate to get out. ”Do what?” You ask while holding out on the biggest smirk of your life. He sighs and looks away in annoyance and you almost feel bad for him. ”You know what you’re doing, babe.” He says as he looks back at you, fixing his posture when he settles himself.

You look down at the blonde who nervously fiddles with the edge of the handcuffs. The corners of your mouth slightly upturned, you lift one leg up slowly on his shoulder so that your skirt rides up a little. Your eyes never leave his face and his eyes never leave your thighs. A low groan is heard from the man as he looks away in annoyance again. ”Fuck, just stop teasing me!” He snickers and his eyes find your crotch again.

You giggle and he thinks you’re completely evil, teasing him like this. Dressed so nicely on the bed, a little gift that he wants to unwrap so bad. Too bad his hands are cuffed to the bedframe. ”Tell me what you want, Leon.” He wasn’t very used to being the submissive one, but you swore you’d get him to beg like he made you. ”You know what I want. Don’t play with me.”

Your smirk widens as you slowly lift your leg off his shoulder again, he carefully watches your movements in silence as your foot moves from his shoulder, to his chest, to his stomach, to his thighs and gosh, he thinks you’re absolutely beating around the bush until your leg finally reaches his crotch. He’s still cuffed to the bed and unable to move but he watches with a lustful gaze and slightly parted lips as your foot slightly rubs his huge erection through his joggers.

His pride wants to hold back and make you submit to him, but he is close to giving in. You were too much. The short skirt, lacy panties and a matching bra with lacy thigh highs? He wanted to just pound you all night and make you cry on his cock, but you had other plans. You giggle again as you rub his erection, legs spread right infront of him on the bed. Leon can’t hold back the whimper that leaves his mouth when you touch his cock. ”Ah- Shit…” He blushes slightly and continues moaning softly.

A couple more touches and he’s bucking his hips up, trying to get more friction. ”More…don’t stop.” He whines as he closes his eyes momentarily. It’s working. You pull your foot away from him and he sighs in dissapointment. You smile at him and he shakes his head. ”You need to tell me what you want, Lee..” You coo to him as you lay on the bed, straight infront of him.

He watches in silence again but you can see the submissiveness slowly getting into him. He tugs on the handcuffs a little. ”Mm-mm. You’re not gonna get out of those just yet.” You tease as you settle yourself right infront of him. You bring your legs over his thighs as you lay there. He looks down at you and licks his lips. ”Stop that shit.” He whines as he looks at you hungrily.

You spread your legs to him and hold eye contact seductively. Your hands start roaming your body, they go behind your back and unhook your bra, it falls to the side, exposing your bare tits to Leon. His breath hitches as he bites his lip slightly. Your fingers are darting by until they reach the perk of your tits, you caress yourself with both hands and let out a small soft moan while looking at Leon. He groans as he looks at you.

You continue letting out small moans as you touch yourself, teasing your hardened nipple between two fingers as you arch your back. ”Fuck…L-let me touch you.” He whines again and you only smirk, hands moving to pull down your skirt. ”You gotta be nicer, Lee.” Your mocking tone made Leon sigh again as he tugged at the cuffs.

Now just in underwear in front of him you start to dip your hand into your dampened panties. ”So wet f’ you…” You mumble as you push your fingers into your heat, gathering the slick and starting to rub small circles on your clit. You squirm and moan infront of him while pumping your fingers in and out of yourself. He licks his lips again as he looks at your fingers buried in your cunt. ”Leon-Hh…” You moan softly and look at him through half closed lids.

Leon looks almost desperate as he’s still worthlessly tugging at the cuffs. You look down at his crotch and chuckle under your breath when you see a small wet spot in his pants, his hard cock straining though the fabric of the joggers. ”Baby, please.” He whines. ”Please..”

”Please what, Leon?”

He stays in silence for a second, pondering his next move.

”Come on, won’t you be a good boy for me?”

”Please, uncuff me.. ’need your pussy. Need to fuck you.” He mumbles as a slight flush washes over his face. You just chuckle at him and pull your fingers out of yourself. You lift yourself to sit on the bed, you caress his face slowly and kiss him. He hungrily kisses you back and your hand moves to his crotch. You stroke his erection through the fabric. While kissing, you can feel him trying to hump into your hand, letting out groans and small moans into the mess of the kiss. You smile when you pull yourself from the kiss.

Your hands quickly move to uncuff Leon slowly. Time feels like it has stopped for him when he sighs and mumbles small pleases and begs for you. You feel proud of yourself and feel like you have to uncuff him now. (Or maybe you just need his cock so bad and couldn’t wait anymore.)

As soon as his hands are free he launches at you, pins you to the bed and starts hungrily kissing, sucking and biting your neck, chest, collarbones, tits, stomach. Usually he would take his time but now, he’s like a hungry animal thats devouring you, and you love it. ”Well aren’t you eager?” You giggle between the kisses and Leon just ignores you, already pulling off his joggers as you spread your legs for him.

As soon as he’s naked, he’s quickly on top of you again, hands are everywhere and he’s smitten like a kitten when he whimpers into your ear while grabbing your thigh, trying to settle himself between. ”Please, baby. Need to fuck you..Please. Let me fuck you? I-” You hush him with a kiss and he returns it, like an unspoken agreement, he lines himself up with a few pumps and starts pushing into you.

You both moan into the kiss and he starts thrusting into you at a rough pace, quickly you wrap your arms around his neck for support. ”Oh fuck-Ngh- Ah! Please…Hah… so-” He moans into your ears while rutting his hips into yours. The lewd sounds fill the room and you think you’re in heaven when your pussy walls clench around him, hearing him like this drives you crazy. ”I’ll be a good boy- Fuck! Ah- So good, baby.” He’s yours. Fully. Your good boy.

[imaslutforwritingshit]

A Dangerous Wish

(A Miguel O’Hara x Fem (spider-girl) reader, short story. Part One)

SMUT, NSFW

WARNINGS- nsfw, slight sadism,rough sex, teasing, bondage (f and m receiving), bj, fingering, hair pulling, sub to dominant switch, submissive reader, handcuffs, wounds, minor gun play, thigh riding, ENEMIES TO LOVERS

Pro tip- slowed Weeknd songs work best with this smut story lol

Finally. He was finally mine.

On the dark, smooth floor, littered with scratches and streaks of blood, Miguel was on his knees.

I had just managed to chain him to the rectangular pole over his head. Strong, power-draining handcuffs wrapped around his thick wrists. We were in the basement of the Spider Society, the unauthorized area Miguel doesn’t let his team see. But I was here, even if the webs strapped to my hands were under shaking palms. I had finally won.

Two years of chasing the leader of the Spider Society, only our brief, unsuccessful fights being the interactions we had between each other. And for the entirety of those two years, the strong and dangerous man had been possessing my mind.

Now what? He’s all mine. I could kill him. Ruin him.

Or, maybe, I could do what I always wanted to. A deep desire my body craved when I was around Miguel O’Hara, no matter how much I hated it. I wanted those eyes on me. The red, powerful eyes now hidden under the swoops of his tussled and damp hair.

His head was dropped in defeat, the talons sticking from his fingers hanging in mid-air, and rips in his suit exposing his bronze skin under the low LED lights. I let my body fall into an intimidating walk, slinking my hips as I moved closer to him. His chest was rising and falling, the sharp, heavy pants of his breath created a strange sensation in my stomach.

Miguel’s eyes trailed over my figure as he looked up, the red of his pupils almost purple in the dark. I took of my gloves slowly, letting the moment drag in painful build up. Miguel’s eyes devoured the sight of my fingers, as if every piece of open skin was killing him. I dropped the gloves, one sliding down the plane of his thigh.

“What do you want?” Miguel’s voice was raw, broken and hoarse with anger. The lowness of his words caused a shiver up my spine, but I stiffened my body to hide it.

“Oh, O’Hara.” My words were thick with mockery, and I let my nail drag up his throat, tipping his chin up with my index finger. He grit his teeth, trying to move his head away, but the pain prevented him from completing the action. I dug my red nail under his jaw, and Miguel leaned his head back. My sly smile felt natural, though I was forcing my teeth to stop shivering from the adrenaline of catching my enemy.

“I think you already know what I want.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, and jerked the chains holding his arms up towards me. He inhaled breathlessly as I forced his body towards mine. “To destroy you.”

At those words, an unusual smirk played on Miguel’s lips. Lips so close to mine, I felt like I wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

“And how so, hermosa?” His eyes dropped to my body again, and I suddenly felt like the tightness of latex around my breasts was a bad choice. “You gonna kill me?”

I laughed at that, and dropped my hands from him. “Death would be a relief. I want to have my fun with you.”

Miguel let his head fall back lazily, and a slow grin spread on his lips. “Oh, but I really need relief right now, (y/n).”

The double meaning of his words made my face turn a hot shade of pink.

I shook my head, and stood up, making a small tsk sound with my tongue. As I paced around the room, Miguel slowly rose to his feet with pained grunts. But I’m surprised he could even stand up after the way I beat him up. I suppose the super strength Miguel had also included super-healing capabilities.

Miguel was easily one or more feet over me. He towered over my body so heavily, I felt dumb for even existing around him, even if he’s the one under my control now. God, I’ve dreamt of this day for ages- but now I have no idea what to do.

“You gonna take these cuffs off my hands, (y/n)? Or am I gonna have to ask nicely?” Miguel’s voice was too confident, too sarcastic for my satisfaction. I had captured him, not the other way around.

I whipped around, aiming for his mouth, and shot a jumble of webs from my shooters. His lips were covered in threads of silk, bonded strong enough to shut his ass up.

Miguel growled, his mouth bounded by the white web, jerking his body roughly, as if that would help the situation. With the rage fogging over his bright eyes, the rips showing his sweaty, sleek abdomen, the veins on his hands lit like fire under the light-

Fuck. He looked really, really hot.

I ignored my thoughts and stomped to him, practically cowering under his large frame.

“Let me talk for once. I want to say a million things to you, but I can’t. Because I can’t waste my time on you anymore.” I paused, then averted my eyes to his, watching the anger dissipate from his irises.

“You ruined my life. You took everything from me,” I curled my fists. “You took everything from me for some fucking mission, some personal problem. So fuck you.”

The last sentence was rough, the words hardly leaving my mouth. Miguel’s eyes dropped, staring at my blood on my floor. As if he felt anything for me.

I should probably stitch the wound. Miguel had scraped my body all over my arms and legs in a cat fight. We were both physically weary from the fight, but yearning for the sweet revenge of true dominance.

We were still hungry for more.

I turned around swiftly, walking to the small station on the other side of the room. It had everything I needed- a first aid kit, radio, a gun.

I didn’t want to do what I had to do next. Kill Miguel.

But what other choice did I have?

I suddenly heard a footstep, too close to me, too heavy to belong to anyone else except the one person I hated the most.

“Fuck you? That’s a bold statement. I didn’t know you wanted me like that, cariño.” Míguela deep chuckle caused my heart to sink to my stomach. Because there’s only one way he could talk- if he took the webs off his mouth.

And the only way he could’ve done that, was by escaping.

I swung my body instantaneously on the ceiling before Miguel lunged at me, claws skimming the thin fabric of my stomach.

I dropped down, rolling into a fighting stance. How the hell did he escape? The chains that once held Miguel down were snapped, the shiny metal dropped into little rings on the ground. Even the handcuffs were snapped into multiple pieces. I whirled my head to the gun- now is my only chance.

But though I ran to the table again, frantically sweeping my hands on the wood, the gun had disappeared.

A small click sounded from the corner of the basement, so close to me that I flinched.

“Looking for this, pretty girl?”

And ever so carefully, I turned to see Miguel’s muscular forearm pointed at my chest.

The gun in his fist.

I backed away, my feet tripping on the legs of the table. Miguel’s face was dark, relishing in my fear. He cornered me, eventually letting his thigh uncomfortably press my legs away from each other.

“Pu-put it down.” The stammer in my voice was embarrassing, but I can’t imagine Miguel with more power than he already had. He could kill me right now.

Miguel made a small humming sound, and tapped the gun on my beating heart. “Say please.”

My dignity had escaped my body within the seconds. My teeth were grinding together, as I mumbled, “Please.”

Miguel clicked his tongue, and slid the gun to my collarbone, letting the muzzle of the weapon form small circles on my skin. I shivered, dropping my head back from fear, and something else I couldn’t name. “Oh, (y/n). That’s not enough for me, baby. Louder.”

I sucked in a breath, my focus heightened on the metal, cold and powerful over my skin. “Please.” My voice was louder, but that didn’t stop the shake in my pitch.

He nodded with satisfaction, the dark glint in his eyes growing. He pressed the gun in the crook of my neck, letting it trail over my throat. “Good. Keep being good for me, cariño. Because chaining me up,” he paused, shaking his head. “That disappointed me.” He softened his voice, the low taunts dragging out of his fanged mouth. “You love acting out, don’t you?” His eyes dropped to the metal pressing into my throat. “I might just have to punish you for that.”

I shook my head frantically, clenching my fists. How could he be so strong? Escape me so fast?

Miguel raised his eyebrow, stepping closer. His leg was now pressed completely against me, filling the area between my thighs. I wasn’t during if he noticed, but the pressure caused a wave of butterflies to cluster in my stomach. “No? You don’t want that?”

I nodded again, wishing for any relief away from the gun on my body. “No.”

Miguel grinned devilishly, and pressed the gun to the side of my throat with renounced force. “Then prove it to me.”

“What?” My voice was breathless, and I shifted on his leg.

Miguel’s eyes dropped to the low of my suit, where my hips were rolled against his muscular thigh. He clenched his jaw, and looked up at me again, strands of his hair falling in his eyes.

And those eyes had an unfamiliar blaze to them-

Desire.

“I want you to beg me to stop. I don’t think you understand how much I enjoy this.” He let his tongue slide over his teeth, and then tilted his head with dark curiosity. “Beg for your life.”

Miguel stepped all the way over my body, slamming one hand on the table near my own. I could feel his rapid breath on my jawline, the potent smell of spiced cologne on his body meeting my nostrils. “I want you to understand just how much power I have over you.”

The words hit me like a wave, throwing me over. My eyes widened, and I stared, blinking at his prideful expression. I couldn’t let my sexual ideas get in the way of this. Miguel is a dangerous man, a weapon in hand.

“Fuck no,” I sputtered out. “Just kill me. I-I would rather die.” I tilted my head up, and closed my eyes, awaiting the sound of the trigger firing.

But it never came. I tentatively opened my eyes to see Miguel’s mouth slightly open, corners of his lips twitching to a smile. His fangs seemed to shine purely from my fear. He dropped the gun on the floor, and I flinched. Miguel’s hands pressed to mine before I could attack him, his warm skin and talons awakening a buzz in my core.

Electricity was flowing through the air between us, thick and heavy and dense. I couldn’t think anymore- he was a distraction, a deadly infection over my senses.

Because I wanted more.

Without thinking, I let my body act on the pure instincts I’ve been fighting. My hips ground on Miguel’s muscles, and I clenched my knuckles under his palm.

The act of my body shaking on his made him dig his talons into the wood of the desk. He looked at me with shock, only for a second. And I drowsily stared into his eyes until that shock became lust again. He tensed his biceps, and smirked so confidently it drove me insane.

“Look at you. Having…“fun,” huh?” Miguel watched my hips again, an unnatural spike in his breathing. I couldn’t help my body as I rolled my groin on his hard body again, whimpering from the impact. I could feel the swirl in my gut from him, making the area between my thighs warm. I could feel how wet he was making me.

I think he could, too.

Miguel groaned softly, and the vibrations of his vocal chords sparked a fire inside of me. I began my to harden the pressure of my body on his, and Miguel staggered, letting his head drop near my neck.

“You gonna keep doing that to my thigh, (y/n)? I think you should aim a little higher.” He shifted his body, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him. I stifled my gasp. This wasn’t the plan- I shouldn’t be doing this with him.

But it was like I couldn’t control myself anymore. I let soft moans escape my mouth as I began moving my hips over his own.

And an unfamiliar lump under the fabric of his suit met my spread legs. Miguel groaned, and arched his head back, poking the soft skin of my ass.

He was hard.

I had never considered that Miguel would also have the same feelings for me. He let his hard palm slide up the small of my back, and I shivered, clutching his hand. When Miguel’s fingers hooked to the zipper near the neck of my neck, he bit his lip, his dark eyes traveling over the movement of my body. “I never knew you were such a slut, (y/n).”

At that, I dropped my head on his shoulders, rasping for breath. My desire was painful. I needed release from this feeling, and he was the only one who could grant it.

Miguel chuckled, sliding the zipper down slowly, and the cold air of the basement meeting my skin formed goosebumps on my shoulders. The suit fell of my chest, exposing my breasts and stomach. Miguel took a long breath, and snaked his thick hands on my bare waist.

I clenched my teeth together, blinded from the flame of his touch. His fingers met the low of my breast, and I threw my head back, grabbing the muscles of his back. I knew he was playing with me- letting his desire for my pain and pleasure mix into a horrible game.

And a strange part of me loved it.

Miguel bared his fangs, a low growl drawling from his lips. His fingers skimmed the sensitive buds of my nipples, and he let his sharp claws swirl over the area. My thighs clenched at that, pressing my hips over his hardened dick. “Please.”

Miguel jerked my body to his, arching my back with his hand on my spine. His eyes were intense, drowning my body with tingles in each place he let his gaze fall over. “Please, what? Be specific, cariño.”

I heaved a breath. “Touch me.”

Miguel stared up at me, electricity intensifying between us. He slid his hands to my hips, rolling the fabric down my thighs. I rocked my ass up, letting him completely undress me. As I kicked the latex off my body, Miguel quickly pulled my body forward, and I yelped, now completely on my back.

With white knuckles, I reached for the sides of the desk, but Miguel grabbed my arms and pinned them over my head. I squirmed, feeling the liquids of my pussy spilling on the hard wood under me. I was so desperate, and he was toying with me. Teasing me.

“No. I’m not letting you enjoy this yet.” Miguel’s voice was gruff, almost unrecognizable as he yanked my body, an invisible warning. Miguel walked away, quickly coming back. I didn’t know what he brought, until Miguel shoved a ball of fabric in my mouth.

He fucking gagged me with my own glove.

Before I could pull the fabric out of my mouth, Miguel grabbed another article of clothing from the floor- my suit. I furrowed my eyebrows, pleading him to stop- but Miguel clenched his jaw harder, and brought my wrists up. In a couple swift movements, he tied my hands together with my suit, so hard that I could feel the throb of my heartbeat in my wrists. He dropped my limp hands, and grabbed my upper thigh. Miguel, eyes fixated on my crotch, slowly spread my lips. When he saw my wet body, Miguel growled again, biting his lip so hard I was surprised he hadn’t drawn blood.

“Qué zorra tan hermosa.” Miguel let his lip slowly drag from his teeth, and watched my shivering body was a terrifying predatory stare. When he slid two fingers over my clit, spreading my pussy, my eyes widened embarrassingly, and his teasing caused a renounced ache in my stomach. Miguel rubbed his fingers over the base of my cunt, and I arched my back, a silent beg for more. I needed more. Miguel let a finger play with the wet opening of my body, each of his breaths getting harder. I bucked my hips, and Miguel attempted to stifle a groan.

The dark of Miguel’s red irises were blending with the basement dimness. I watched his eyes flicker over my body, and slow penetration of a finger inside of me began to make its way between the folds of my body.

I gasped, choking on the fabric of my glove, and flayed hopelessly on the table. I had no idea how it came to this, why it came to this. But I craved more- I needed him, even if I hated him.

Miguel slid his finger so far it hurt, his retracted nails hitting the delicate sponge of my inner walls. I bucked my hips again, and with that movement, Miguel slid another finger in. I could feel my body clenching on his thick digits, and I curled my toes in anticipation. Miguel groaned at the sight, curling his fingers inside of me.

Each movement was driving me insane. He curled his fingers, slowly progressing to a euphoric pace. Desire was forming in my gut, the string of nerves coming undone with each pattern of his strokes.

I moaned under the fabric in my mouth, and Miguel stabbed his fingers farther inside of me- like my sound deserved punishment.

“Behave, (y/n). You don’t want me to hurt you again, do you?” He let one finger slide on the open wound above my rib cage, and I jerked my body from the white pain. Miguel smiled in a conceited way, and continued the rapid movements of his fingers. I twitched over his hand, feeling the hot rise of pleasure reach my skull. He breathed from his mouth, infatuated with my quivering body. The sight alone made my eyes roll, shivers controlling my body like tides.

“Enjoying yourself?” He laughed, but it was dry if humor. Miguel was turned on by the fact I was in pain. A pain derived of the irresistible desire he caused in me. Miguel pulled his slick fingers from my pussy, and I bit down on my glove from the release of pressure. My jaw ached from the mouthful of cotton, and my arms were sore from the position he put me in. Miguel dropped his eyes to my hips, and grabbed a fist of my hair and turned my body so I laid on my stomach. He massaged my ass greedily, and planted a sharp slap on the fat of my upper cheek. I jerked my head back from the pain, and Miguel laughed, as if this gave him energy. Vitality.

He grabbed the glove in my mouth, shaking it in my gums. “You want me to take this out? Huh?”

I nodded quickly. God, I was almost his toy at this point. Why was I doing everything he said?

Why did I like it?

Miguel chuckled again, and pulled the glove from my mouth. I salivated in my dry mouth, breathing heavily.

Miguel rubbed my chin, and held it up to his eyes. He was stripping from his suit. And making me watch.

My face flushed, even if he had already seen my exposed body- he was forcing me to watch him undress.

Miguel let the silky fabric slide drop from his frame, catching at his hips. His muscular chest rose and fell, the defined abs on his stomach sharpening from the breath. Everything he was doing was turning me on even more, and I hated myself for it.

“I’m gonna fill those pretty lips,” he muttered, so smoothly it made my mouth water for the taste of something I’ve never known. He pushed the fabric all the way down, kicking it off his ankles in a swift movement. My eyes caught his cock, and I exhaled with admiration.

He was erect, veins springing from his thick bronze shaft. The tip of his dick was moist, perfect and way too close to my mouth for me to do anything but try not to whimper. Miguel tilted his head casually, grinding his hips forward on my face. His dick slid against my soft cheek, and I scrunched my brows from the sensation.

I sealed my lips shut. Having him finger me was different- it was an act of pleasure for my benefit. But sucking his dick? It was a silent confirmation that he had complete control.

Miguel began sliding his dick over my cheek repeatedly, letting his head fall forward in concentration. I watched as his lower hips clenched with each movement, the veins meeting light again and again, mesmerizing me with the beauty of his body.

“Open.” Miguel’s voice was rawer than before, husky with the pleasure of my body meeting his edged dick.

I shook my head, biting my cracked lip down. I don’t know if I would even have free will after my mouth met his cock.

Miguel grabbed my scalp, and pulled my hair up, forcing my head all the way back. “Am I gonna have to make you?”

“I-“ My voice was hardly a whisper.

Miguel sprung his talons from his fingers, letting his index finger trail the part of my lips. He dug his finger in the slit of my teeth, and I released the tension of holding myself back. I opened my mouth, feeling the warm, rough skin of his finger pads.

Miguel didn’t hold back the low groan of his finger meeting my wet mouth. Knowing that I made him feel that way- it made me crazy. I rolled my tongue over his finger, like some dog obeying orders. It was like in this moment he was all I knew, all I remembered. Miguel grabbed his cock, letting the tip slide over my lips. And closing my eyes, I opened my mouth all the way, sliding his dick in my mouth, until the tip hit the hard gums of my inner mouth.

Fuck. I’m probably gonna regret this.

That’s it! Part two will be posted per request :)

[whumble-beeee]

Let’s Have A Chat (You’re All Talk)

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 4

Content: brief minor whump in flashbacks, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, flashbacks (ptsd), gun mention, past captivity references, tied up, torture "threats", begging, tazer,

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[In terms of punishing and torturing your hero, 'fear of the unknown' is one of the most powerful tools available in your psychological torture toolkit; The anticipation of what might happen to them is often more torturous than whatever real tortures you have cooked up for them, and is a wonderful addition to any torture scenario!

It’s a very delicate skill, learning how to use a hero’s own fears against them (excluding villains with fear-based powers), but it is absolutely essential in almost all aspects of hero-keeping; whether you want to torture them for information, beat them into submission and servitude, force them to follow your rules or desires, or just have some good old fashioned fun messing with them!]

* * * * * * * *

“No,” Stan grunted. Enough was enough.

“No?” the mercenary’s voice broke into a small, disbelieving laugh, which just served to make Stan double down harder on what he hoped was the right choice.

“No. We’re not ‘chatting’. Not–” the world tilted on its axis, darkness creeping in his periphery again. Stan leaned his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. “N-not you and me, not now, not–... ever.”

Deeby just hummed another laugh at the display. “You should probably eat that protein bar, bud. Should help a bit with your head. And your mood, you're being such a little asshole right now.”

Stan rolled his eyes, but brought the protein bar up to his face to properly inspect. Though it was more of an accusation as he looked straight past it and narrowed his eyes at the bounty hunter instead.

The mercenary rolled his eyes in kind. “It’s not poisoned. Look, eat the protein bar and I’ll cut the ropes binding your legs, yeah? That good enough for his lordship?”

More than good enough for his lordship. A welcome trade, in fact. Especially since Stan was planning on eating the protein bar anyway. And especially because Deeby could probably just shove it down Stan’s throat if he wanted.

Stan nodded with a small ‘mhm’ before the bounty hunter could take it back. It took him a moment to maneuver the bar so he could open it with the metal of the handcuffs biting into his wrists every single time he pulled them too far apart, but he eventually found himself holding a successfully unwrapped protein bar with only slightly aching wrists.

“I'm eating this because I think I should,” Stan clarified as he brought the bar up to his mouth. It was cookie dough-flavored. Deeby had good taste in protein bars at least. “Not because you told me to, okay?”

“Uh huh, noted. Feeling less like a little shit now?”

Stan took a moment to make a full show of reluctantly nodding, irritated head tilt and all, before cramming the rest of the bar into his mouth. Before long, the ropes binding his feet were no more (after much restraint not to kick Deeby in the face when he got close with the knife again), and the protein bar was gone all too soon.

“Great!” The mercenary clapped his hands together. “Now we can talk! Ya like jazz?”

Stan grit his teeth. This Deeby guy just doesn't quit, does he? He wasn’t going to budge on this, even if he was slightly more fed and less dizzy now. He couldn’t just forget the total beatdown from earlier, the torturous soreness wracking every part of his body made sure of that.

“I'm not. Talking. With you.”

“Something’s gonna happen one way or another, runt. I’m just trying to give you the easy option considering you’re a little fucked in the head right now. Hard way’s not off the table, never will be.”

“We already talked!” Stan tried. “Remember? I asked you your name, you wouldn’t tell me. Then I asked you why you kidnapped me, you wouldn’t tell me! Who you work for, wouldn't tell me! Then you beat the crap out of me, and now I feel like I’m dying and leashed like a damn dog! That’s just gonna happen all over again! Let’s just skip over that so I can go back to dying on the floor, thanks.”

“Oh!” Deeby lit up like a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night, and Stan, for just a brief moment, almost let himself feel the same relief that a sailor might when they saw that spotlight on from the freezing, rain- and wind-swept deck of their lost ship. That he would actually leave Stan be. But then…

“You wanna hear about my gun?”

He pulled the revolver from his hip holster and held it up like a prized trophy. “It’s an original Smith and Wesson 1957 Model 19 revolver, it's pretty famous for being the first handgun to use magnum cartridges and making that a common thing. It was also standard issue for the border patrol in the ‘70s, which is where it came into my family,” he chuckled. Stan could only stare dumbfounded. He was really just going on a rant, huh? 

“One of mis tíos just fuckin’ swiped it from one of the officers and they were pissed, chased after him, nearly caught him too but he managed to wiggle away, slimy little guy. And then my mom was so mad with him, nearly beat him half to death before their mamá even had the chance to. So anyway, I got it when I was just a kid, it was all broken and kinda shitty when I first got it, but it was a family heirloom and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world, so I started to get into it more, started fixing it up a bit, replacing parts until it worked right and fiddling with it until it worked right, then started making upgrades to it, learned how to shoot it–”

”Holy shit!” Stan yelled, lurching to meet the mercenary’s eyes.  “Are you trying to Stockholm Syndrome me or something?! I don’t want to hear about your gun! I don’t want to talk to you, or hear about you! I don’t like you, I hate you, I don't want to have a nice little conversation with my fucking kidnapper! We aren't talking! Ever!”

A moment of silence. Stan realized he had gone too far again as the mercenary's eyes widened in disbelief. 

But he refused to back down this time. 

So he continued to glare into the mercenary’s dark brown eyes.

But then the bounty hunter let out a barking laugh. “Stock–... Sto-ockholm…?” he said, almost to himself, voice airy and high with disbelief. “Na-ah… Nah, no, no...”

His gaze suddenly shot to Stan, face unnervingly blank. Stan tensed up, instinctively pulling his extremities in to protect himself, to make himself smaller. This was… new. 

The mercenary took a few steps toward him. Then a few more. Until he was right in front of Stan, looking down on him like a god would from the heavens above.

“You ever been… tortured?... Stan?”

The soft, weightless lilt of his voice turned Stan’s blood to ice.

"Never stop fighting back."

"Let GO OF ME!" He hit at an uncaring, unyielding fist. "LET GO!!"

"Just tell us about your powers, it doesn't have to get ugly."

Lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie.

“N-no-o,” he barely managed to squeak out. His vocal cords may as well have been dunked in ice water. Same as his entire body, with the way he was shaking. Why did he always have to press too far?

“All you gotta do is show us your powers, kid.”

He didn’t move, the light of his powers staying tucked deep in his core. They tazed him again. They'd done it so many times now, it barely even mattered now. He was used to it. He'd never break.

“There's no use fighting, we have ways to force it out of you. We just want to give you a chance to cooperate first.”

Deeby hummed, as if it were quaint to him, the thought that someone could have never possibly been acquainted with the hot, unyielding spindles of torture twisting and morphing them into something unrecognizable, something animalistic, something… altered. Someone to never be the same again.

“I've been tortured.” He chuckled, never breaking Stan’s gaze. “More than once, actually. Hazard of the job.”

He glared into his torturer's bright blue eyes, fires of defiance burning brighter in his own.

“Never.”

 He knew what all their eyes looked like. It was the only thing he could glare at, they always wore medical masks and scrubs and lab coats, so it was the only part of them he could see. So professional to do such visceral, horrendous things.

They tazed him again.

Stan didn’t move. Just stared. Then sputtered slightly. He didn’t know what to say to that. 

The bounty hunter didn’t seem to have such reservations, though. He moved forward wordlessly and crouched down in front of his captive. Stan’s breath hitched. He could hear his heartbeat, feel it pounding in his chest, slow, careful, thunderous. All consuming. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape. Were the bounty hunter’s eyes always such a dangerously dark scarlet? No escape at all.

Then Deeby grabbed either of Stan’s biceps, wholly wrapping his hands around Stan’s upper arms, and urged him upward to his feet. “Here, Stan, get up, I wanna show you something.”

The sky-blue eyes flashed to a colleague. “This isn't working. Let's just go with Plan A like I wanted to from the beginning.”

The colleague started to voice their protest but was cut quickly off.

“I don't care how old she is, I know! But being gentle doesn't work, it never does, and it never will! It’s time for the big guns.”

A grown-up hand grabbed his upper arm, drugged him up off the floor, and shoved him forward, iron-gripped no matter how much he kicked and screamed and cried out. Inescapable as he hit and tried to tug away. Unyielding.

“Wait–, wait, no, no, no, please! We–!” Stan cried, unsuccessfully trying to stay wrapped in his little ball of safety on the floor as the force pulled him upward, the dull roar of his beatings from earlier turning once more into a raging insistence of constant strain. “We can talk, we can talk! I just– I can’t– can’t– don’t–... please, please!”

Stan hissed as he put weight on his bad leg in his struggles, and had to practically fall into Deeby’s arm to relieve the agony. 

Deeby didn’t pay the struggling human in his clutches any mind and started to step backward, never once taking his eyes off Stan as he dragged him slowly but surely toward the middle of the room, ankle chain jingling as it dragged across the hard cement floor. “Cálmate, chiquito, te estás poniendo tan alterado. Just do as I say and you’ll be fine.”

Tears burned at his eyes as he tried to grasp at Deeby’s arms, the pressure building up in his sinuses making it so he could barely breathe. It was so much harder to struggle to get away when he had to physically lean on his captor. Torturer.

“I don’t–” his voice cracked as it shot up his register, and he grasped in another breath as tears started to fall. “I do-on’t speak S-s-spani-ish… plea-ease–”

They abruptly reached the end of the ankle chain-leash, and Stan pitched forward with a screech, practically into Deeby’s chest before Deeby stiffened his arms and righted him again. Stan tried to make himself so tremendously small, tried to hide even though he was already captured and chained and physically being held by a man who had shown he wasn’t afraid to, and even enjoyed, hurting him.

And now in the center of the torture room, on the very end of his literal chain.

Nowhere to go.

“Of course you don’t, white boy.” Deeby sighed, a hint of that humorous light shining back in his eyes. He gently grabbed his jaw and tipped his gaze upward. Those bits of red in Deeby’s irises seemed to bleed out into the rest of the world, infecting everything with crimson and scarlet and fire and flames.

The world burned around them. Stan tried to pull away, but the bounty hunter’s grasp held firm.

“It means calm down, chiquito,” he said from somewhere miles away. “You’re getting so worked up, making everything worse for yourself. I won’t hurt–”

Stan seized up and grabbed at Deeby’s arms even as they held him in place, clawed at them, pleading, shaking as tears rolled off his chin, down his neck, and soaked into his shirt.

“PLE-E-EASE!” He cried. “I don’t– I don’t want– I can’t be tortured!” He prayed that wouldn’t be taken as a challenge. “Please don’t… torture me. I can’t… Please.” Not again. Not again.

Deeby looked down upon him, carefully peeling Stan’s trembling fingers off his arms. A small, unnerving smile tugged at the sides of his eyes, like a father looking on as his toddler struggled to produce a finger painting that wasn’t just a staining hideous mess for the hundredth time in a row.

“Who said anything about torturing you, bud? Wait here a moment.”

Deeby shoved away from the quivering mess and made his way over to the wall opposite where Stan’s leash-chain was anchored to the floor, and jumped up to grab the end of a previously unseen chain that, when when the bounty hunter grabbed it off the hook and let the length of it fall free, swung down and hung from the ceiling right next to Stan. 

Stan took a single unconscious step backward from the thing in terror, and immediately his buckled buckled in a flurry of strained agony, sending Stan straight down to a kneel. He clutched at the offending knee joint, cursing the mercenary for making him overwork and twist his knee in that failure of an escape attempt and hurting it so much worse in the first place. At least before he could kind of hobble along without a cane or a crutch. It wasn't pretty, or fun, but he could do it. Now he was practically immobile.

And he just had to hope it would heal correctly.

“Didn’t I just tell you not to move?”

Stan whipped around and nearly toppled over again in the process. “I– I jus–!” 

Two hands grabbed under either of his armpits and hoisted him back up to standing before Stan could even stutter out another terrified plea. He was so dizzy that he was almost thankful that the man grabbed him under the arms to keep him from falling again. Even with how the action in itself made him want to scream.

“Deeby, Deeby, we can talk, we can talk, you don’t–! You don’t have to–”

“Did you just call me ‘Deeby’?” He stopped in his maneuvering Stan, a petrified hush falling over the hero as he forced eye contact once again. “Like the name ‘Deeby’, not the letters ‘D’ and B’?”

“Uh--... No, no…” Stan squeaked.

Deeby’s amused smile faltered just slightly. 

“Don’t lie to me runt, that shit’s funny... Deeby, huh?…” he mused, rolling the name around in his mouth. “Not very creative, but you gotta give points for simplicity… Pft, Deeby… ”

Then his attention shot right back to Stan. “Anyway, stop whining and squirming, I’m about 5 seconds away from actually getting pissed. Are you gonna listen to the story, or we gonna do plan B and actually give you something worth screaming about?”

Stan wanted to keep struggling. Yelling, being defiant, begging, pleading, fighting, something. Those thoughts fueled him as he held the bounty hunter’s gaze; he didn’t want to just roll over and let him do as he pleased with him. But the way the hunter held him now, and the way he physically overpowered Stan time and time again just made him feel like a small, hissing cat uselessly fighting against his owner as they held him high into the air as some sort of punishment. And the fear of something worse happening finally managed to overpower the blind panic that fueled his previous fight. The tiredness continually crept through his bones now, the ache of his injuries starting to once again overpower all other senses.

So when the stare of Deeby became unbearable, Stan pursed his lips and squeezed shut, bowing his head in concession with a small, shaky nod.

He just hoped this lost battle wouldn’t become just one in a never-ending sea of them.

The mercenary let out an infuriatingly triumphant huff. “Great. Don't move. I mean it.” 

Then Deeby let Stan go almost too fast, and he had to readjust to fully supporting his entire battered body again.

He had to shift to support his entire weight on his 'good' leg instead of agitating the bad leg further, or god forbid using his cane or a crutch. Or his powers. The good leg would get painfully sore very quick if he had to just keep standing here. Especially since he was already feeling the bruises from earlier starting to bloom.

But this was better than literally all of the alternatives. He just had to let Deeby talk and hopefully, he wouldn’t torture Stan.

Simple.

He was looking forward to it already.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

[iaal]

Hisoka reacting to his normally shy and submissive s/o trying to take control during sex? 💖 Your writing does terrible things to me!

My Hisoka brain rot was too strong tonight and I wanted to write something. I had the WIP for this one for like more than a year in my WIP folder and finally finished it.

You knew he wouldn’t be shocked by your request. Maybe say no, probably tease you, but you felt comfortable enough to ask. Or at least try to.

For a while now you had everything you needed prepared, you thought that when the moment was right you could naturally bring the subject. The moment never came. Either you were too embarrassed or Hisoka already had a plan on how your time together would be spent and you’d end up getting swayed by whatever he wanted to do. Not this time.

It wasn’t anything to be proud of but drinking half a bottle of wine did wonder in helping you gather your courage. You picked up your phone and started typing a text, not brave enough to actually use your voice to ask him.

‘Are you free tonight?’ The text was innocuous enough but your heart was already beating fast. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or apprehension.

Hisoka didn’t make you wait long, ‘Missing me already?’

Answering a question with a question as usual, and as annoying as ever. You saw him only two days ago and he told you he would stay for at least a week in town, you didn’t know what his business was but he never seemed particularly busy so you’d hope he’d be available on short notice.

‘You can say that’, it never hurts to coax him a little with what he wanted to hear, ‘There’s something I’d like to try with you.’ Appealing to his curiosity always helped to.

His next text was sent almost immediately after yours. ‘Oh? Do tell ♦’

‘Are you free or not?’ You took another sip of wine, if this conversation continued like this you’ll finish the whole bottle before he gives you a straight answer. Even a simple yes or no question become complicated with him.

‘I can be, it depends on what you have in mind’

You paused, searching for you words and started typing before deleting and typing again. You did the same thing for a couple of minutes, positive Hisoka was amused watching your indecision. Finally you decided a picture was better to convey what you had planned. Opening your closet you grabbed your latest acquisitions and put them on the bed, displaying the silk handcuffs, ball gag and blindfold before snapping a picture. You hesitated half a second before sending it, you’d feel even more silly to get cold feet after teasing him.

‘You should have told me sooner you wanted to be tied up. You wouldn’t have needed to bother with your little toys ♥.’ You didn’t understood what he meant by that, however the problem was that he missed the main point.

‘No, it’s for you.’

That was it, you told him. Now you just had to wait for his reaction. Hisoka was always the one taking charge in bed so you weren’t sure if he’d go along with what you wanted. Nevertheless he also seemed like the type to have tried everything. It could go both way.

Minutes stretched and no answer, but he did read your message. You were starting to get nervous, it’d have been fine if he had just refused, it was the wait that was killing you. You poured yourself another glass of wine, if you had to spend your night feeling awkward at least you should be properly drunk.

Half an hour after your last text your phone screen finally lit up, ‘What’s in for me?’ You reread his message again and again not really seeing where he was getting at.

‘If you’re not interested just say so.’ Vexed by Hisoka playing with you, you shoot another message; ‘Forget it’ and put your phone away.

The sound of the front door opening woke you up completely. Sitting straighter you turned you neck to see if you imagined the sound, it wasn’t like you to not lock your door when you were alone, but Hisoka appearing beside you distracted you for that last thought.

It’s not like you didn’t like when Hisoka was in charge, quite the contrary, but you just wanted to try something new for the both of you to have fun and there’s no point in it if he saw that as a transaction.

Sulking, you grabbed the remote, in a mood for some trashy TV, and decided to follow the advice you gave Hisoka and just forget about ever making the request. It was pretty late already and alcohol helping, you dozed off on the couch.

“Looks like you were enjoying your night~” He picked up your almost empty glass and poured wine for himself, drinking slowly before making himself comfortable on the couch with you.

“Hisoka?” You rubbed your eyes and looked at the time, it has been less than an hour since you sent your last message. So he was free after all. “Why are you here?” you slurred, alcohol affecting you more than you thought.

“I had the feeling you were sulking,” he gently grabbed you hand and guided your fingers to his mouth, nibbling and kissing them. “And I wanted to hear more about your suggestion.” His lips moved to the inside of your wrist, trailing up your forearm, igniting your already hot skin with every touch.

“You weren’t interested,” you said, instinctively giving him better access when he reached your neck.

“I’ve never said that,” Hisoka corrected, pausing his kisses, his hands hooking up your shirt to rest on your waist.

In the background the TV was still playing the reality show you were watching, Hisoka turned his attention to it when the contestants started arguing, chuckling when one of them threw a nasty insult.

“You didn’t answer,” he added, his thumbs drawing circles on your hips but his eyes glued on the quarrel. The insulted contestant snapped and screamed, a fight about to break but someone intervened to separate them. Hisoka returned his attention to you, his hands gliding toward your chest. “What’s in for me?”

You really weren’t in a state to make a pitch sale, feeling dizzy with the wine and Hisoka caresses and still annoyed that he would treat your proposition as a favor. “I told you to just forget it. You wouldn’t be bargaining if you were really tempted.”

Hisoka picked the handcuffs, turning them around in his hands for a moment before turning his attention to the ball gag. The silence was awkward, well awkward for you, he seemed engrossed in his scrutiny of your new toys.

One rejection was enough for one night, you wanted to drop the subject and just forget about your attempt at being bold.

With a final kiss on your neck Hisoka moved away from you and walked to your room. Not sure what he had in mind you got up and followed him. Heat rose to your cheeks when you saw him inspecting the toys still laid on your bed. The mood was definitely not right for the display.

“Like I said, it’s fine if you’re not interested,” you said when you couldn’t stand the silence anymore. You moved to take the gag out of his hands but he held it out of reach above his head.

“And like I said, I’ve never said I wasn’t,” he retorted. He threw the gag back with the rest and sit on the bed legs crossed. Looking at you in the eyes with a slight smile he explained, “I could lay down and pretend to be restrained by your cute handcuffs,” as he spoke he reached for you, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling you toward him, “but would it be fun for me? For you?”

Hisoka uncrossed his legs and you let him guide you to sit on his lap. “When I’m asking what’s in for me,” he continued in a soft voice, slowly removing your top. “I’m asking how are you going to make it interesting.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. It’s not like you thought it would be mind blowing, but you didn’t imagine he’d find it boring. No, if you were honest with yourself you thought he was finding you boring already. You’d be the first to admit that you were pretty vanilla before meeting him, it hasn’t been long since you two started to see each others but it was painfully obvious that he has experienced way more than you did. Of course sex became significantly wilder since he appeared in your life and you were more than happy to follow his lead.

Yet that all you did. Following his fancy. Following his instructions. Never taking charge. So maybe that’s why you bought some toys on an impulse, maybe you wanted to show him that you were trying to match his pace. To please him. When you were with him, Hisoka has this way to make you feel like you were on top of the world and at the same time utterly inadequate to be deserving of his attention.

“I… I don’t know. I wanted to do something different.” you answered truthfully.

“The idea in itself isn’t bad, just need a bit of polishing,” he chuckled, kissing at your shoulder.

Laying you down on the bed he finished to undress you, his lips caressing you skin as he uncovered more of your body. With his tongue dancing on your stomach and making its way toward your chest your barely noticed when he lifted your arms above your head. It was not until you felt pressure around your wrists that you realized your hand were bound to the bed.

“Wha-” The gag placed in your mouth cut off your words. Hisoka put it in, careful not to pull on your hair when locking it around your head.

He hummed at the sight, “The problem was that your idea was incomplete~.” He sat up straight above you, his knees on each side of your ribs. Always the show off, he made sure to give you a good view as he removed his shirt before fitting the blindfold on your eyes. Darkness enveloped you. “So, let me help your brainstorm ♥.”

[hitbythunder]

Chandrilan Moons -7

A Kylo Ren x Reader story with much angst, possessiveness and dark themes (warnings will be updated as the story progresses) –> Read also on AO3

____________________________xXx____________________________

7: Still feeling cooperative? +++ +Starkiller Base on Ilum+

I was no longer in that metal chair, that much I knew upon coming to, while the rest of my surroundings remained a confusing blur of gray interior and equally colorless, clinical people talking in clipped detached voices around me. For a brief moment I fooled myself into thinking that I was at the hospital on D'Qar after being knocked out during combat lessons, and that my encounter with Kylo Ren had just been a terrible nightmare. But the glaring red insignia of the First Order, worn proudly on the breast pocket of every person within sight, put an abrupt end to my illusions. As did the metal handcuffs at my wrists. At least there was no pain anymore, just the distant memory of it ghosting through my limbs and head, and after a while I realized to be in the medical bay of this place. The large room housed many beds, some of them occupied by wounded Stormtroopers, while a handful of nurses scurried in between the rows. They had put me in the corner farthest away from the large doors, half hidden behind a milky screen so that I could only survey part of the room. Whether to be on a spaceship or a planet-base was hard to tell from the monochrome interior and the uniformed First Order personnel, and windows were rare to come by in either case. Not that I was even thinking of escaping, stars I wasn't that foolish, but perhaps there was a chance for rescue if I could let my family and friends know where I was being kept.

One step at a time…, I reminded myself as my vision spun while trying to sit up in the medical bed. A nurse urged me to lie back down, then examined my injured hand and ribs. When she scribbled some notes onto her holopad, I dared to ask about my condition but she ignored me at first. Upon asking for the third time, she relented though and informed me about my split lip, cracked rib, sprained wrist and the considerate concussion. Her tone was kept professional, naturally reserved considering the fact that I was the enemy, and upon my shocked expression she let some humanity show beneath the polished First Order veneer.

"Nothing too serious, don't worry. But you need a lot of rest now." she said as she adjusted the amount of pain killing infusion that dripped slowly into my blood-system via an IV. Then the both of us noticed a growing tumult behind the screen, wavering voices laced with dread and a heavy set of footsteps approaching us. My heart skipped a beat, remembering that distinct sound from the woods and whom they foretold.

Alarmed by the presence of her superior, the nurse beside me turned away but somehow I managed to grasp her wrist despite the metal restraints. When she looked from my vice-like grip to my face, I pleaded with my eyes for her to help me. I was terrified of meeting Ren in another round of rampage inside my mind, of the pain and torment it entailed. Understanding and perhaps a grain of pity ghosted over the nurse's expression, gone tough when she turned around fully to walk away into the part of the room that was shielded from my view. Her silhouette shone through the milky screen. The heavy footsteps halted and a bulky figure joined the nurse in this shadow play, towering over her in his billowing robes and distinctive helmet.

"Status report on the prisoner." a calm but demanding voice, rumbling deep like the roll of thunder and foreboding dire consequences should the answer be displeasing. Without delay the nurse rattled off the details of my condition, again detached as if talking about a droid's flaws after an inspection.

"... Any further healing, especially of the brain, requires more rest. At least for 24 hours." she tentatively added at the end, her body posture all submissive and appeasing through the screen. Whether it was her medical opinion or an act of (female) solidarity against her terrifying Commander, I had no clue but I was grateful for the effort nonetheless. A few seconds ticked by, the giant figure unmoving, until its head very slowly turned to look directly at me through the screen and I could suddenly feel Ren's gaze on me like a laser, unyielding and permeating.

I promised to cooperate, but I'm not in for permanent damage to my brain. But why would he care about that...

"18 hours." came Ren's reply at last, staring in my direction for a beat longer, before he turned to walk away from the screen. His deep voice crackled above the storming footsteps: "You've got 18 hours to pepper her up."

As the end of my reprieve neared, my cuffs were unlocked and two nurses ushered me into the nearby refresher unit, their stern expressions daring me to try something stupid in there. Which I hadn't even thought of honestly, instead taking my sweet time to enjoy the hot water cascading down my body, washing away the forest grime but not my trepidation upon the near future. Clean and dried, I avoided looking too long at myself in the mirror and quickly put on washed-out grey cotton pants and a white shift, along with thin slippers which they had given me. While it seemed only logical to equip prisoners with simple clothes that weren’t made for fight or flight, they could at least have put some effort into the style. While the pants somewhat fit my frame, the shift hung a quite loosely on my shoulders, its hem ending mid-thigh, and I had to roll up the too long sleeves before fixing my hair. As of lately, I had come to wear my hair with one section in a bun and the rest braided - a similar style like Rey's, perhaps in an unwittingly attempt to imitate her. With a sigh I gave myself a once-over, thankful not to be an overly vain person, because stars I looked like a miserable and slightly beaten-up ghost in those unshapely rags.

No doubt Rey and Rose would have a laughing fit if they could see me…. the thought caused a sharp pang in my heart that drove tears to my eyes unbidden. An impatient knock on the door ripped me back to the present and I quickly wiped my eyes, exhaling deeply before exiting the refresher.

I'll see them again. Just need to play along and do as Ren says.

+++

A swish of opening doors was audible, followed by small and light footsteps as the girl slowly ventured into the premises of his quarters. Her light and mismatched clothes were a stark contrast to the black-grey and neatly arranged interior. Though by far not as spacious or luxurious as his accommodation on the Finalizer, those here consisted of a main living-room with adjacent bedroom and refresher unit, the doors to both currently firmly shut, which left the girl no options to hide. She flinched when the door behind her closed with a click, sealing her within this gloomy room full of shadows. With careful steps she rounded the small table and its accompanying two chairs, not deeming her surroundings worth a glance. As if mesmerized, her eyes were glued to the large window opposite the entrance door, a child-like wonder illuminating her face as she beheld the outside world of raging winter. Somewhere behind the building, the sun was setting and its remaining light cast an orange glow upon the snowy planes and distant mountains.

Kylo watched intently as she brushed two fingers across the glass, felt the cold under nipping at her fingertips, and knew she had never witnessed snow on Chandrila. While there could be heavy downpours and storms, the overall climate on Chandrila was mild and without extremes in either direction. Its summers warm and long, ideal for joyous play outside until mother’s calling. Kylo absorbed her memories with growing agitation and almost scoffed at the picture-perfect scenes unfolding in the girl’s head. By all means, she didn’t belong to a place of war like this, her whole being standing in stark contrast to the brutality of the First Order. A child of summer and gaiety, now trapped in this metallic prison amidst ice and darkness. And yet, in her innocent wonder, she was still unaware of the creature silently observing her from the shadows.

Kylo waited until the sun's rays slowly vanished outside and dipped the bizarre landscape, as well as the room, into the many opaque shades of night. By the time the last orange tint was snuffed out, Kylo had circled the girl and now stood directly behind her. From the periphery of her mind, he sensed her nerves prickle in an unconscious alarm to his presence. A few seconds later, her whole being was overcome by dread and pure shock when she saw his reflection in the window-glass. All black-in-black, the outlines of his figure were obscured by the surrounding shadows and the glistening silver elements of his helmet served as the only fix-point of that dark mass. Instantly she turned around and took a step backwards in order to increase the distance between them. Her thoughts were alight in a panicked flurry as she took him in.

How long has he been standing there?! Stars, how could I not notice him this close behind me?

On purpose, he took his time to have her squirm in his presence a little while longer. Her eyes were wide, searching for something alive behind his steeled mask, while she did her best to keep her limbs from shaking. She truly was a frightened little bird, so tiny and helpless compared to him.

“It’s time to continue where we left off.” Kylo’s deep voice cut the tense silence as he leaned slightly downward, his tall and broad frame towering over the girl even more so. On instinct she shied away and pressed herself against the cold glass behind her.

“Still feeling cooperative?”

She quickly nodded in reply and Kylo almost scoffed at her willingness to comply in the face of torture. Clearly she wasn’t trained at all for such situations and whoever had sent her to Takodana had made a grave mistake. How reckless, to let someone with such intel run around without the means to defend herself and the knowledge she possessed.

“You will answer me properly.”

+++

“Y-yes, sir.” I stuttered, averting my gaze from the polished and impenetrable surface of his mask. “I’m sorry, sir.”

I truly was, wishing to get this over with quickly and to return to my family and friends. The less I put up a fight, the better my chances to come out of this disaster - or so I hoped.

“Then come.” With the flick of his hand, dim lights went on in the corners of the room, and with large strides he lead us to a sleek metal desk. Before it had been too dark for me to make out the room’s interior, so I was slightly surprised to be in some sort of private quarter: a dark grey sitting area beside the window, a few plain cupboards along the walls and the desk where Ren had seated himself. Each wall housed a door, the one to my left probably leading to a refresher unit, while the one on the right stood ajar, revealing a bedroom. For a brief moment, the black sheets got my attention, then my eyes snapped to the durasteel main door, concluding that I was indeed trapped in here.

Dread filled my stomach and slowed my movements as I took the remaining empty seat opposite of Ren. He tilted his head slightly, as if studying me from behind his stainless mask in quiet contemplation. Suddenly very self-conscious, I crossed my arms in an instinctive reflex to shield myself, as the prolonged silence continued. Although I avoided to look at him, my very being was alert and just waiting for him to act, afraid of what was to come. After all, Kylo Ren was known to have a short temper and I had zero intention to set it off.

As if ripped from his inner musings, the black mass of Ren came to life then, shifting forward in his seat to touch the desk’s surface. A hidden keypad activated the built-in holo-screen and computer, Ren flicking through a menu by swiping his gloved finger in front of the holo-screen.

“Think of the map now.” He instructed then, his firm deep voice having me jump in my seat. Nodding, I sat up straight and did as I was told, immediately feeling his presence in my mind – a low humming in the distance, far less painful than the first time.

The map, yes. I saw it again, tiny stars and constellations… but quickly my mind would venture on to my encounter with the thugs, reviving the pain I had suffered at their hands.

Stop.

Ren’s harshness forced me back to the present and despite the mask I knew he was displeased.

“Sorry, I haven’t… how do I do this?”

Stars, I sounded to timid. Just like the little mouse I was. But then again, to cooperate was my only chance of survival here. Ren must have sensed my willingness, because he answered way more patiently than I had expected.

“Try again, but think only of the map in it’s entirety. Envision it with as much detail as you can and hold that image before your inner eye.”

And so I did, willing myself to calm down and focus – clinging to the hope that once Ren got the map, he would let me go. What a foolish child I had been…

[uninformed--opinions]

Talented is a complement meant for the lucky

I’m a dancer.

People have said “you're so graceful, even as you walk, look at your arms. how talented you are, how lucky you are”. I’ve counted. Overwhelmingly, they say talent. Not skill, not driven, not strong. Not “how long have you been dancing, how much do you love it?”

I’m polite, or course, glow at the complement and say my thanks, but inside it makes me wrinkle my brow and scrunch my nose. I’m not talented. I resent the implication.

When I was a kid, I was gangly and clumsy. My knees had often growing pains, I tripped over my shoelaces which I kept constantly untied, because it was a shortcut to putting shoes on, and because people noticed and smiled at my nonchalance.

When I was eight, I swung around a banister and whacked my toe on a doorframe. I got stitches and the toe was swollen up like a balloon from three needles worth of freezing.

I restarted ballet when I was ten, overjoyed, and frustrated I was only allowed one class a week. I held my arms out to the side in a second position with drooping elbows. I looked at my betters and wondered at the mobility of their shoulders, thought they might be doing too much. I had no feeling for whether my toes were pointed.

When I was eleven, I still couldn’t touch my toes, but I was allowed to sign up for two dance classes.

I resent the implication that grace came easy to me.

By the time I was fourteen, I’d found a drive and a happiness in dance, something that worked its way into my identity. I fought for it, I’ve messed up my feet from pointe shoes and the love of it. I’d give anything at any moment to be blinded by stage lights, to smell dry ice and the floral scent of the stairs at my hometown theatre. It was an escape and a grounding in turn.

I know every inch of my body, having studied its movement relentlessly in the mirror. I could map out my range of motion in imaginary arcs behind my eyelids, and I know every flex of muscle on my feet. I’ve learned how to dance on blisters, how to keep your face even as you perform the same thing again on fresh floor-burn. I know to be proud of my bruises (they mean I’ve worked hard) and I know how to soak blood out of the foot of my pale pink tights. It drives me, and in the same way, it helps me breathe energy into a room and know peace.

My mother when she was seven years old, walked both ways through downtown Vancouver to a competitive jazz program at the community centre.

When she was fifty and I was seventeen, she helped me film an audition tape.

I still trip over nothing when I’m at home, still close my hand in the fridge door, but my mother says I walk like a with grace. My old ballet teacher jokes sometimes that we use up all of our grace on stage, leaving us clumsy, which is hilariously true, and definitely not just of me.

When I was seventeen, I was burnt out, but that isn’t relevant. We would go across the floor in our class with the studio director. He would demonstrate once, then watch, giving constructive criticism. Sometimes there would be praise after a really good run - and invariably the run after that would be dreadful. It was funny, cause we could see him in his head going from really happy for us to tearing his hair out seconds after he told us good job.

Dance is like that, most times. It is layers upon layers of fixing yourself with specificities, building up layer by layer of trying harder, pushing longer, noticing more, building up to an image of a perfect you in your head. Not that any of us thought we’d get there, but what is there to strive for if not that? Dancing is athletics and an art form, almost meditative, maybe spiritual, and definitely breeds a certain way of tackling challenge. Look what I built - it wasn’t here when I first came. Mostly, dance is like carving yourself out of marble.

“You’re so talented! How lucky you are! How innate.” How dare you diminish my love, my time, and my bruises.

To hear that does bring a smile, though. I’m not a total grump. That is, after all, what dancers do: make the improbable look innate, easy, gentle - beautiful.

[silverdelirium]

this is kind of a mix of eras butttt if you’re comfortable, can you please write a draco and tom threesome?

GUESS | D.M X T.R

warnings: threesome, oral sex, blindfold and handcuffs included, light degrading

———

they were watching you.

watching you like a hunt watches its prey.

they analyzed your every move, the way your hips swayed to the beat, how your friends would sometimes join, but they payed no mind to them, their focus was on you.

draco and tom shared a look through the flashing lights, one that said; whoever gets there first, has her.

they both speed-walked towards you, almost knocking out the sweaty bodies of random people, their complaints blurred with the music, making the males oblivious to their wrath.

you gave a small look up when two bodies approached you, towering you.

“oh- hi draco, hi tom” you greeted, their figures clear considering you barely drank anything. tom gave you a small smirk, running his eyes down your body shamelessly.

draco narrowed his eyes at him but still gave you a polite smile. you observed how they both opened their mouths at the same time.

“would you like to dance?” they chanted together, throwing scowls at each other once they finished.

you stood there with a puzzled and shocked look on your face, amazed at the fact that two of the most attractive slytherins in the school just offered you a dance.

if i had to pick one, which one would i choose? you debated in your thoughts, never really prepared for this type of successions.

both.

their bickering got cut off by a small clear of your throat, signaling that you wanted to talk, tom’s and draco’s head snapped to your figure and they immediately shut up.

“do i really have to choose? or can i take both?” you suggested, tone different than the one you had saluted them with before.

they seemed to catch up on it; and this time, instead of glaring at each other, they both made eye contact with smug smirks adorning their features.

“and wouldn’t you like that, princess?” drawled tom in a teasing manner, hand reaching up to move a strand of hair behind your ear, which were burning hot at the action.

draco snickered and got behind you whilst tom’s palm stayed on your cheek, irises calculating your every move, including your harsh swallow.

the blonde’s hands roamed your waist, giving your hips a light squeeze and hissing lowly when your bum pressed on his hard-on.

he leaned down to your ear and whispered, “my dorm or his, beautiful?” watching as you shivered but still mantained eye contact with tom, who was intently staring as the conversation flowed.

“whichever” was your eager reply not even a second later.

tom gave a small chuckle and shook his head lightly, yet still gave draco an inquiring raise of brows. you assumed draco nodded, since he took your hand and dragged you all the way up to the stairs, tom behind you as you entered his dorm.

there wasn’t even time to appreciate the room, a certain blonde’s lips already on yours, a heated kiss forming that you immediately accepted.

“calm down, mate” snarled tom, pressing himself against your backside and forcefully turning your face to meet his, a similar kiss forming.

draco only scoffed at the action and bent down to kiss your neck, sucking on certain spots, creating dark purple hues.

you were the first to pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily through your mouth while draco continued to attack your neck, tom’s hands now focused on getting his shirt off.

malfoy pulled back a little to look at your already disheveled form, swollen lips and frizzy hair.

“get on the bed for us, darling” he ordered, mimicking tom’s antics and taking his shirt off.

your feet carried you to the bed, sinking down on the middle while your head lay against the soft pillows. the corner of your eyes caught a peak of tom reaching inside his drawers, and almost as if he was sensing your stare, the mysterious object went behind his back.

“you sneaky little girl” he murmured, a small smirk planted on his face as he leaned down to kiss you while removing the straps of your dress.

you hummed into the kiss when you felt, what you presumed, draco’s fingers disregarding the rest of your dress.

tom broke the kiss to press kisses on your chest, fingers going behind your back, silently asking to arch it so he could take your bra off, and you obeyed.

it was at that moment when your eyes finally landed on the blonde who was now only wearing boxers, winking at you while he took of your drenched panties, throwing them behind him.

the brunette, disconnected his lips from your body completely, finally revealing what was behind his back.

handcuffs

your eyes went slightly wide at the object, immediately picking up on what they were gonna do.

“arms up for me, gorgeous” he spoke, tone low.

your arms followed his orders in blind submission, resting them against the headboard.

draco’s eyes caught yours as tom cuffed your wrists to the bed, immobilizing your arms. he gave you a devilish smile as he locked eyes with tom, giving him a nod, not giving you time to decipher anything as he dived his head down your sopping cunt.

a moan left your mouth involuntarily, tom coming besides you, both males with only their underwear on.

he stroked some hair out of your face and made a path with his hands to your breasts, another high-pitched moan coming from you when he rolled the nipple in his fingers, while draco absolutely devoured you.

his tongue lapped up at your juices, humming every once in a while; his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. his darkened eyes stared up at your figure that was now a moaning mess, he could almost chuckle at how fast the night had turned out.

it was like being on cloud nine, the way his tongue worked inside you, absolutely dining on it.

as he continued to devour you, tom leant down to crash your lips together, drinking down all of your noises. your moans continuously spurted out onto his mouth whilst your thighs shaked, orgasm approaching.

both of them seemed to notice this, so tom leant down and disconnected your lips, putting his on your nipples instead.

that did it for you.

you didn’t even have time to warn them, you cum was now being eagerly tasted by draco who could’ve easily cum too at the sight of you.

once he finished riding out your high, he rose up from his position, cock throbbing due to the lack of friction.

tom copied the blonde’s movements and got off your chest.

now, the both of them towered over you, staring down with a mischievous grin. you gulped harshly and switched your stare from one to the other.

“take the handcuffs off” spoke tom, order directed at draco, yet eyesight trained on you and the tone he used sent shivers down your spine.

draco leaned over you, keeping eye contact as he undid the restraints, your arms going limp at your sides.

he gave a chuckle at this and scooted back, grabbing your ankles and pulling you more to the edge of the bed.

tom seemed to caught onto what draco was doing and gave him a smirk, reaching for the drawer he had picked the handcuffs from.

your head was turned to him, curiosity peeking inside you. but draco wasn’t having any of that.

he roughly grabbed your face and turned it to him, connecting your lips to his, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth in an instant, grinding his hips into yours, evoking a small moan from you.

“easy now, malfoy” grunted tom from above you, causing draco to give him a stern look and a roll of his eyes.

tom gave you a teasing smile as he held up a silk blindfold. “this okay with you, pretty girl?” he asked cautiously.

your eyes shined with desire as you stared at the material, mouth slightly agape. “mhm” you hummed in agreement, adding a small smile for reassurance.

“good girl” taunted draco, grabbing ahold of his boxers and dragging them down. you only managed to take a peak of his lower v-line; tom was already placing the blindfold on your eyes, tying it behind your head.

“now, gonna let us use this pretty pussy baby?” teased tom, fingers tapping your soaked cunt twice. you gave a small moan as a response, your body jolting at the sensitivity.

“fuck yeah we are” grumbled draco, hands digging into your waist as he harshly turned you around, ass on display for their hungry eyes and hard cocks.

you whimpered as your tits collided with the mattress, yet your pussy was already dripping in anticipation. “once we’re done with you, you’re gonna have to guess who’s fucking your little hole and who’s fucking that blabbering mouth.” hissed tom on your ear. “if you get it right, we’re fucking you until you’re begging us to stop. you get it wrong and i’ll make sure you’re edged for a fucking week” he finished.

you couldn’t help but let your mouth fall open at the suggestion, senses heightening as you heard the shuffle of clothing and two big hands bringing your ass up until your back was perfectly arched.

“little whore, look at you, puffy pussy in the air like that” murmured draco from beside you.

you suppressed a moan at the comment, burying your face down on the sheets, only for it to be yanked up by an unknown force.

they didn’t even give you time to gasp, your mouth being filled by a thick cock in an instant.

draco positioned himself behind you and rubbed your ass prior to completely bottoming himself inside you, a moan almost escaping him. but he held it, for the sake of whatever silly game they were playing at.

you gave a loud moan against tom’s cock, though you were still unsure on who was doing what. but slender fingers wrapped around your hair, a signal to keep going.

so you did, quickly recollecting yourself and bobbing your head up and down, not that you needed to do much except hollow your cheeks, the force of draco’s thrusts sending your head down on him.

the blonde kept his hands on your ass, roughly rocking his hips back and forth, watching as your head continuously moved up and down on tom, who had his head thrown back, mouth agape and eyes closed.

draco reached down to rub your clit, not slowing his hips once. tears brimmed at your eyes at the sudden feeling, your own body unconsciously fucking itself back on draco, while your tongue focused on the tip on whoever was down your throat.

as draco completely rammed himself inside you, tom’s orgasm was around the corner, with the way you swirled your tongue around the tip, the involuntary jerk forward you gave whenever draco gave a hard thrust, plus the vibrations of your moans did it all for him, he looked down at you as he came, biting his lower lip in an attempt to keep his identity a secret.

you breathed hard through your nose as you felt cum shoot down your throat, the whole load almost choking you as you swallowed it immediately. a small whine leaving you once they removed their softening length.

yet this was more of a relief to you, your moans now spurting out freely as spit dribbled down your chin, feeling tom’s or draco’s fingers rake through your hair.

“i’m close!” you moaned out in a desperate tone, thighs shaking as a slight tap came down on your bum, and assuming they gave you permission you came with a small shout, breathing raggedly.

draco was right behind you, drawing out your orgasm while sloppily thrusting as his seed went deep inside you.

once you both climbed down from your high, you collapsed down on the mattress, blindfold still on as you felt the rustle of sheets, blinding light appearing out of nowhere as tom disregarded the blindfold, smug grins on both of their faces as they took in your fucked-out state.

“now tell us who was fucking what, baby. show us how much of a smart girl you are” ordered draco, hands soothing down your back.

a nerve-wracking feeling hit you. you had absolutely forgotten all about their little challenge, you were too caught up in pleasure to even remember what you were supposed to realize.

“i-i don’t know” you admitted, lip trembling when their expressions hardened, almost as if disappointed, and considering the state of mind you were falling in; it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“well let’s try again and see if you can get it right this time, hm?” suggested tom, dragging the blindfold back up.

———

draco 🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @helleli @metaraxia @daddybutmakeitagirl @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety @dracoscum @riddleswh0rekrux @laceycallisto @slytherinbabess @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @harrystellastyles

tom 🏷: @methblinds @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @daddybutmakeitagirl @steveharringtonswhore @citrusdarling7 @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog

[wh6res]

one more time | markhyuck

"if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you’re gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" — lhc 

warnings. dubious content, swearing, bondage, voyeurism, masturbation, exhibitionism, mentions of stalking, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, there’s a knife (but no knifeplay), a threesome, implied kidnapping 

disclaimer. i dont condone anything. this isnt a normal relationship. this aint love.

note. prolly going to hell for this but who cares. markhyuck for @nakamotocore​ i wuv ya ie please get better soon! TT and dom hyuck for my napaka kalat na mami @donghyukcore​

against all rational thinking, haechan is getting bored from seeing the pathetic five feet distance between you and mark when he comes home. he tries to understand the other male in the relationship. truly, he does, even if he highly doubts that celibate little mark lee can pleasure you the way he can but everything's practically past that line now. donghyuck just wants to have some fun with you two, is that too much to ask for? at this point, he's blatantly ignoring the fact that you and mark don't even like each other.

but haechan cares for mark just as much as he cares about you and he won't just let his best friend miss out on all the fun things he can do to their little doll, right? what kind of a friend would he be? once haechan shoves him into a world of temptation and sin and pleasure, mark would kiss his self-induced celibacy goodbye.

plus, you've been awfully naughty these days.

talks about wanting to come home or getting at least a few rights to have gadgets were the only thing you said whenever you see him. it went as far as practically growling and running away from haechan when he tries to initiate something with you, screeching your lungs out and saying, "don't fucking touch me, you creepy little psycho!"

deflowering mark.

punishing you.

he'd be killing two birds with one stone.

he's fucked your stubborn little self into submission once, but all that overprivileged tv sessions might've put silly little ideas into your dumb little head again. alas, no worries, he'll just have to do it one more time. and maybe, now with the aid of his good 'ol buddy mark, they'll both be able to screw you up so good you'll never want to leave their clutches.

"gumdrop, can you come here for a second?"

haechan isn't deaf to the exaggerated groan you let out from the living room and it grates on his nerves how utterly brave you are for being passive aggressive. you reminded him of a little girl in a temper tantrum because they weren't given any candy - and when you show up in the master bedroom clad in your little pink dress, eyes upturned and sharp, a pathetic little girl was all he can think of when he saw you.

only now did he notice that you had even detangled your hair from the intricate braids haechan spent at least twenty minutes doing earlier this morning. where was mark all this time? why wasn’t he there to stop you? geez, you both are so going to get it, this time!

"what do you want?"

"can you give me a hug? i felt awfully stressed at work today. i need my little gumdrop."

this was obviously a test. don't get him wrong, he'll still punish you but if just this one time you learned to swallow that bitchy attitude and come crawling to him as the perfect lover should, maybe he won't be too harsh.

but he gave you too much credit, he thinks. of course his dumb cockwhore doesn't know shit. of fucking course, you wouldn't know it was a test. not when you scoffed, rolled your eyes at him, and spun in your heels to walk back to the living room.

"beat your meat with your own hands, creep."

haechan's reaction is immediate, his long legs allowing no delay in crossing the room to mercilessly fist your hair. he had pulled your hair so bad you thought it was going to rip right at the roots, all of his pent up anger due to your poor behavior channeling into that one grip.

you feel his scoff of disbelief against the curve of your neck as haechan pulls you flush against his body. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he laughs patronizingly. "beat my meat with my own hands – aw, baby! that has got to be the best one yet!"

it truly was, though. he's not going to lie. out of every vicious snarl and hate-induced words you said to him, that particular offhand comment takes the cake. seriously, sometimes haechan thinks you're deliberately trying to make him furious – gumdrop, if you wanted to be fucked silly, all you had to do was ask.

he hurls you to the mattress, breath knocking right out of your lungs. before you can even sit back up and crawl away from haechan, he's already crawling over your body to sit directly on your stomach, fiddling with something on the headboard. you nearly scream in frustration, no matter what you do, you just can't throw him off of you!

"i don't know why the fuck you're behaving this way but it's gone too far. one more time. do i need to fuck some respect into you, one more time?”

a new wave of motivation surges through you when you hear the familiar click clacking of metal. your eyes widened just a fraction, the only thing that gave away the unease quickly seeping under your skin. if not for haechan's perceptive eyes, he would have missed it.

he merely used one hand to grip both your wrists in a vice. "no!" you squirmed, tossing and turning and trying with all your might to get him off of you. "no! i don't want that – not the cuffs!"

he loops the respective bands around your wrists with practiced ease. the last handcuffs he used had torn and marked your skin, something haechan wasn't fond of. only he can paint your bare skin with colors.

thus, he bought newer ones. the bands were a bright shade of red, connected to each other using a medium sized chain that loops around one of the steel wires of the bed, and the little bells attached to the bands ring with your every movement.

haechan knows the bells drove you crazy. its incessant ringing driving you up the wall as you couldn't keep your hands still whenever he fucked you to oblivion – he knew how much you loathed the sound of the bells, all the more reason for him to enjoy.

and mark, too. speaking of which…

you stubbornly pull at your bounded hands, glaring at the man before you as he studies your state. the corners of his lips curl up at the sight of you struggling. "you always look so good in red, gumdrop."

before you were given a chance to reply, he stormed out of the room with a sense of purpose bounding his steps. "lee donghyuck!" you screamed. "fucking come back and get me out of these, you pervert!"

he can hear you thrashing in your chains and yelling profanities from a room away. where was the demure girl he turned you into after only a week living in the apartment? though funny enough, the blood in haechan's sadistic side rushes in excitement at the prospect of wiping that glare off your face. it wasn't the fear, nor your submission that gets him off. it was the idea that he can and he will break you down no matter how many times you try to build yourself back up again.

he's not too sure whether he's going to eliminate that dirty mouth you've developed, though. because you did make him snort in the most unattractive way when you told him he can fucking jack himself off when he had been merely asking for a hug. this aggressive side you developed is… nice. he can work with it.

"can you ask your play thing to keep it down?" mark hisses, flinching and making an offkey sound with his guitar when a certain screech from you caught him off-guard.

haechan smiles.

"why don't you shut her up?"

it took a good few minutes trying to talk mark into stepping into the bedroom where he's got you chained to the headboard, but alas, haechan can be persuasive if he wants to be.

frankly, the younger man is sick and tired of hearing both of you bicker – it's no wonder you've developed a sharp tongue! it's all mark's fault and yet it's haechan that has to do the dirty work of setting you straight all over again. you're a tough cookie to crack, someone hauntingly immune to the violence and chaos.

and yet…

"you don't – don't seriously plan on doing this, do you?" your eyes go back and forth between the two males, primarily addressing the younger, devil-spawned male. haechan, ever observant, picks up the light tremor in your voice.

haechan had uttered a playful "if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you're gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" before forcing the older boy to sit by your side, mark's thighs grazing the temples of your head as your eyes awkwardly flutter up to the spectator.

mark couldn't deny he was intrigued by the emotion reflecting in your orbs. when your eyes met, it was a silent plea, he just knew it was. and unlike vulnerable and helpless you, mark, to some extent, still had at least some sense of freedom to him. he can choose to walk away, to stop haechan from trying to get him laid, maybe even talk the other boy into postponing your punishment.

but he'll do no such thing.

not because he has a moral compass (he doesn't, really) but because mark knew firsthand, there's no stopping haechan once he sets his mind into something – and right now, if that boy wants to punish you and use mark to fulfil his exhibitionistic fantasies then that's what'll happen.

your bottoms were the first to go, haechan's blunt nails digging into your skin as he pulled it down slowly, patronizingly, while watching bemused at your squirming. "this is how you know she needs a reminder," he says, addressing mark. "a good princess should take whatever's given to her like a good girl but if she's being an ungrateful brat –"

you flinch when he harshly smacks your thigh.

"– she gets what’s coming for her, right?"

there's a second's delay with mark's reply. haechan didn't mean for the question to be rhetorical, he wanted an answer from the other boy.

"right, mark?"

"r – right…"

haechan laughs, flipping the skirt of your dress up. "what, are you that excited for pussy that you're stuttering? that's cute."

you hear mark intake a sharp breath when haechan dives in to give you feathery kisses in your inner thigh. he always starts off this way, after figuring out this gets you wet way faster than simply kissing you.

as haechan starts talking, lips lazily grazing over your skin, you fight hard not to utter a single sound as you pull on your chains. "listen carefully, markie. do you hear those whimpers? she likes it," you feel the prickles of his sharp stare. "she's just too much of a fucking brat to admit it. go on gumdrop, your fighting spirit makes this all the more interesting."

you hate the patronizing tone he used as his hands trail higher, and higher until it's pinching at the bud of your clit. and against your whole being trying to keep your lips sealed, alas, it parts and creates a soft whimper that has mark stiffening next to you.

haechan lays his tongue flat against your folds. you weren't in the least bit wet yet to accommodate his size, but that's easy. he merely circles the bud with the tip of his tongue before pushing two fingers in. months of standing in the shadows outside your window had made him memorize the movement of your fingers whenever you pleasured yourself.

he felt the jolts of the bed as you shook your head side to side, trying with everything you can to hold your moans in. a corner of his lips can’t help but curl up. "what, gumdrop? too shy to lose yourself because we have an audience? don't worry our celibate little friend over here seems to like it. go on, give him a show."

too lost in the ministrations of his lips and fingers, you don't see haechan meeting eyes with mark, nodding at an object lying on the bed side table. you can only shudder when the cool tip of a knife presses against the base of your throat, hooking under the collar of your dress as mark slowly rips it off.

but haechan doesn't have the patience. "dude, give that to me. at your phase you'll get her naked tomorrow. let the tip cut her skin, the bitch deserves it anyway."

you scream when he drags it unceremoniously down your front, narrowly missed tearing at your navel. there are a few pricks of pain here and there for when the knife accidentally nicked your skin. he sure was ruthless as can be. why did you even bother acting like a brat, cursed him out, when it gave you no benefits whatsoever? did he unknowingly transform you into this sick little masochist that thrived on his sadism?

"no."

it was a defeated whisper. the last of your resolve turning into dust as the breath escapes your lungs. why did losing feel so heavy in your chest? you don't notice your arms slumping, nor your head nodding off to one side, the weight of your horrible reality sinking into you once again as if you had only been kidnapped yesterday.

but it had not been yesterday. it's been days. weeks. months. and the last time you sneakily got ahold of mark's phone and searched for your name, the last news clip or article published about your disappearance had been three months ago. that only meant one thing.

they weren't looking for you anymore.

just like that the world continued, other people's lives continued. all the while you're stuck here, rotting in the arms of your captors.

haechan's face emerged in front of you. he smiles and you would've believed he felt an ounce of guilt if not for that wicked stare in his eyes. "you've always been most beautiful like this, gumdrop. the hope disappearing in your eyes upon the realization that no one's coming for you anymore – i love it. i love you, my pretty girl."

he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead but he might as well have shot you straight in the heart.

there was no warning, nothing to ready you for the sudden intrusion happening on your bottom half and it was so bad, that it made you shut your eyes, hands wrapping around the chains as tears started falling across your cheeks.

rough fingers reached out and wiped them away.

something felt off.

the fingers were too calloused, opposed to the softness of haechan's nimble fingers. and while the aforementioned male had more length than girth, the person who's thrusting himself inside you is the complete opposite. he's stretching you out too much, not even bothering to give you time to adjust when he's already bucking his hips like an animal.

"shh, it's okay. i'll take care of you…"

this wasn't haechan.

and when you fluttered your eyes open to see mark's boyish little face, you can't help that look of betrayal painting your features. at least you only had to deal with one obsessive, sex-deprived freak. now, you're not so sure if you can handle both of them.

how foolish of you to think that mark's self-induced celibacy stretched far and wide when in reality, he was also just a boy with his own needs. a slave to his own temptations.

how cruel. so, so cruel.

in the back of your mind, you were thankful haechan cared enough to properly get you in the mood or else you would've been staining the bed sheets red by how deep and frantic mark’s thrusts were. it felt like he wanted to tear you in half.

"if i didn't know better i'd say you're experienced, markie! i wouldn't fucking know you're a virgin by how much you're humping her like a dog.”

curse him and his dirty mouth. his constant degradation is making it easier for mark to slide in and out of you, and a proof for that is the lewd slick sounds echoing in the room partnered with the older male's deep grunts – a complete opposite of the pitched, whiny sounds haechan makes.

'gumdrop, come on! be noisy with our first-timer here just how you're always noisy with me, yeah? don't be such a killjoy." the pout in his voice is evident, coming from the side of your ear.

you wish you had never turned your head, otherwise you wouldn't have to see him pumping his own dick in his hands right in front of you. the glare you shot probably looked pathetic, what with all the tears streaming down your face and your little theory proves true when you see his mouth quirk up to the side.

"i fucking hate you."

"mark, fuck her harder, wouldja? until she learns her fucking lesson."

the disturbed stare you gave him does not slip his notice, his hand's pace turning erratic, spurred by the slick sound of your walls, skin clapping, and mark's broken whines.

make him stop, your eyes said. please.

but haechan only shoots you an innocent smile before shaking his head. "didn't you tell me to beat my meat with my own hands?"

taglist !!

@hoeartchoke @donghyukcore @stopknot @greenish-taro @stayvision @zhongriot @lmaoskz @zephyr-abyss @anonymous-stuff @josuke8 @jaemotel @gothboyjisung​

wanna be added to my general taglist? click here! ​

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Uhmmm.... so I had a prompt idea. What if hero arrested villain, and handed him to the authorites, and he basically told her that he'd make her pay for it. Then hero goes to the prison for a different reason weeks later, where she sees villain, terrified, sick, and drugged. So, she reluctantly takes him home and cares for him. She is scared he will attack her when he's lucid, but when he does fully wake up, he's just terrified.

This is such a good idea! I saw your submission right before I went to bed and laid there thinking about it, so as you can see I was quite excited to write it.

Paying For It

Warnings: threats, horrible treatment by authorities, left to be sick, fever, blood, drugged, forced sedation, unconsciousness, nightmares, smoking mention, paralysis (due to sickness), sick animal analogy, delirium

~

"You will pay for this," he growled as the handcuffs clicked into place. "I will make you you pay for this and not by money, no-" a chuckle "- I will hurt you."

Hero shuddered as she walked down the icy path back to the same prison that she recently turned Villain into. Horrible thoughts of that said villain breaking out and torturing her flooded into her mind, making her already chilly veins even colder. She hugged her fleece tighter around her and adjusted her scarf, suddenly wishing she wore her winter coat.

Before she knew it, Hero was trotting up the steps towards the concrete building. It was, by design, barren yet strong.

She had some documents to bring to the office. There was a new supervillain in town, actually more like ten, but Hero only managed to get information about the one. They most likely moved in after the biggest threat around, Villain, was arrested.

She opened the door, closing it quietly, and walked up to the desk. The hero, a young boy, most likely a sidekick holding down the fort while his mentor went to do something else, sitting up there was lazily playing a video game on his phone.

Hero coughed to get his attention. The boy didn't respond.

"Hello?" Hero asked.

The boy startled, tossing his phone backwards. "I wasn't," he defended, "on my phone, I swear."

"Uh huh," Hero grunted, sliding the papers over to the boy. "Where's your boss?"

"Probably smoking or something," the boy chuckled, then stopped and looked at Hero with a nervously apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have- you weren't meant to know."

Hero shook her head and said, "I don't care about my colleagues personal habits, but can you get him for me?"

The boy nodded and rushed off, returning later with a stern looking man.

"Superhero," Hero acknowledged, nodding slightly. He smiled then looked at the papers on the desk.

"Are these about..." He looked up at Hero.

"The new villain, yes," Hero finished his sentence, crossing her arms.

"Good, very good," Superhero momentarily flipped through them. In that silence, a thought bubbled up in Hero's mind.

"How's Villain?" She asked. "It's been awhile."

Superhero's face paled, as his toe nervously tapped the floor. Hero raised an eyebrow.

"We've had some... issues, so Villain is spending sometime in detention," Superhero said. He coughed, then said in an overly joyful tone, "Thanks for this Hero, do you want me to escort you to your car?"

"I would actually like to see Villain. Maybe I can, you know, talk to him about his behavior," Hero declined the offer, stepping in front of the papers. Something isn't right...

"Well you see, that wouldn't be beneficial. If anything it would be detrimental towards Villain's... redemption," Superhero pointed out, unconsciously chewing at his lip.

"We aren't a redemption center, Superhero," Hero said quietly, almost a whisper. "Let me see Villain or-" Hero grabbed the papers and proceeded to rip them "- these aren't your's."

Superhero rushed forward, putting his hands on top of Hero's and slid the papers back towards him. He gave a tiny smile and consented to her request.

They walked down the corridor and then down a couple flight of stairs until they reached a steel door with three locks- all with different keys. Hero watched with a stoned expression, thinking about what would happen if one of those keys were unfortunately lost...

"He's in here," Superhero spoke, dancing on his feet.

Hero stepped into the dark room, recognizing the detention cell that she helped invent, and flipped on the lights.

In the corner of the capacious cell, was a huddled figure. His back was towards her, legs spread out. With a pang in her chest, Hero walked up to him.

"V-villain," Hero breathed and crouched next to the figure. Villain whimpered and pulled himself deeper into himself, but his legs didn't seem to be connected to his brain.

Hero gently rolled Villain's head up to face her and nearly gasped when she took in the sight. He looked like a sick, stray cat. Mucus drained out of his nose as vomit spewed out from the corner of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were bloodshot and had deep eyebags underneath with dried blood coating his cheeks. He had multiple, nasty cold sores all around his lips- or were they infected cuts? Maybe both.

"Why is he in this state?" Hero asked, astounded. This violated so many regulations and rules- the prison could be shut down, many heroes arrested or fined.

Superhero didn't respond. Instead, he appeared at Hero's side and crouched down next to Villain. The villain who didn't even seem to be aware of their presences.

Hero grabbed one of the wrists that were so protectively cuddled next to Villain's chest. He whimpered, trying to resist Hero's touch.

"No," he mumbled. "No no no no. Don't give... m-more... that mm stop." Villain started to breath heavily, his already fast pulse speeding up. With a heavy heart, Hero knew without even looking that he was drugged badly.

"Superhero... why?" Hero squeaked, turning over a wrist to see them heavily bruised and still bleeding from his most recent dose.

Villain started thrashing, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Why can't he move?" Hero asked, running a hand along Villain's shoulder. "Why can't he move his legs?!"

Superhero inhaled deeply then said, "He's very sick, uh... he probably has some sort of infection that makes it hard for him to move his lower body. Maybe, I don't really know."

"You don't even know what's wrong with your prisoner," Hero scoffed in disbelief, dragging Villain's limp body into her lap. She tried not to notice the wetness seeping into her jeans. It would only infuriate her that such a sick person would be kept in a wet and cold cell on top of being drugged daily without any medicines to help kick his fever.

"He's sick."

Obviously.

"I'm taking him home," Hero said, and scooped his way too light form up. His legs dangled uselessly, head falling off towards the side.

"That's illegal," Superhero pointed out. "He is in our custody now."

"And where does our rules permit excessive use of sedatives," Hero said in the same, authoritive tone. "Minimal use only to relax a distressed prisoner and only when necessary. Also, never to the point of unconsciousness." Hero gestured with her head towards Villain's closed eyes.

"And where do they permit us heroes to contain a villain on private property?" Superhero tutted. "Set him down and let me do my job."

"I'll call the authorities," Hero threatened, "and take you to court."

Superhero groaned and threw his hands in the air. That was not a risk he could take.

"Fine," he growled, storming out of the room, leaving Hero in silence other than the slow dripping from a leaky pipe.

She quickly tore off her fleece and wrapped Villain's shivering body up. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something incoherently, but that was all as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Then, she carried his ragdoll-like body out of the prison, down those steps, and into her car.

She laid Villain's limp form on one of the backseats, propping his lolling head against the window and buckled him in. His arms hung lifeless at his sides, legs completely devoid of strength.

With a nervous whimper, Hero sped home.

At home, Hero took a warm washcloth and wiped off the dried blood and mucus to reveal unevenly toned skin underneath. She delicately picked the dry crust off his eyelashes and eyebrows. It was rock hard and the warm water wouldn't loosen it, so she was forced to pull on the tiny hairs. At least he wasn't conscious for the pinpoints of pain.

Hero suddered, thinking about what would happen when he did wake up. Surely, he would keep to his word and hurt her, beating her up for imprisoning him and then of course this newfound dilemma.

She looked down at his sleeping form and sighed. She had him elevated to make sure his airways stayed clear, but his head kept falling to the side and onto the backrest of her daybed. His lips quivered, forming soundless words and pleas.

Hero gently touched his forehead, retreating at the burning heat. His eyes slowly blinked open at the contact, he moaned, and then they rolled back again and closed.

Hero sat next to him for rest of the day, worriedly anticipating his attitude upon awakening. However, as the hours went on and Villain didn't seem to be regaining consciousness too much, Hero realized that they would be in for a roughly long time.

Villain was probably drugged like that the moment he entered that building and judging by his health and state of his wrists, Hero also guessed that there was no care whatsoever during the admission or the aftercare.

Hero ran her fingers over Villain's pale cheeks. His mouth was parted open and he snored slightly from the congestion. Tears leaked from his eyes, irritating the tender skin below. Hero went and grabbed some lotion, smearing the white cream over the red rashes.

Villain jerked away suddenly, curling into himself and protectively guarding his arms. His heavy breathing went shallower and quicker as tiny noises escaped his mouth. Hero sighed and stopped touching him; he was likely trapped in a nightmare.

Hours turned into days, and only then was Villain awake enough to be aware of Hero's looming presence.

Though, his reaction was not what Hero was expecting.

He screamed, shoving himself and his weak form to a corner of the bed and gathering his leaden limbs into a huddled mass of burning skin. He shrieked and sobbed, and watched Hero with wide, exhausted eyes.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, pulling up the covers in a bade to protect himself. "Please."

Hero never once in her life felt so utterly useless.

She was, like Villain promised she would, paying for her actions.

[multiplefandomsblog]

Byakuya x inexperienced!reader pt.2(NSFW)

request; hi !! so to whoever wrote the Byakuya x inexperienced! reader um i-i ilysm TOT would it be alright to ask for a part 2 of it, maybe reader has more experience and is ready for whatever 'mAstEr' Byakuya has in store?? (and maybe m a y b e Byakuya loses control of himself bc his innocent reader has finally been corrupted— OKAY THANK YOU BYE

warnings; so muCH CORRUPTION KINK!!!, pet play, master kink, dom!Byakuya, begging, Byakuya neglects reader a tad, s&m, reader is kind of a brat(just a littttleeee bit), sex toys/vibrators, bondage(handcuffs), overstim, forced orgasm?, unedited, slight dumbification, reader has female parts and uses female pronouns and names, slight praise kink, manhandling, humiliation, begging, dacryphillia, light dark themes(lmfao) there’s like, no fluff at all.

note; phew! okay this one, im kinda kinda proud of- i even put together a small byakuya playlist to get into the mood hehehe, it surprisingly helped a lot! i got into the byakuya mind space zone :0 anyway, thank you sm for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

(also p.s. this is a second part to this so you don’t have to read that first, but it’d help? kinda? idk your choice broskis ;0)

word count; 1.4k 

•••••••

“Master.”

Byakuya’s shoulders tensed, fingers almost tearing the pages of his book as he heard your voice, seductive behind him. His eyebrow quirked up at the tone of your voice, a small barely noticeable smirk adorning his face. He could hear the neediness, seductiveness, submission from just the title you uttered out. Instead of moving his head behind him, he decided not to let his eagerness to look at your show. So instead, he pretended to keep reading his book, faking disinterest. Even though he heard the way you spoke, heard the way you spoke so needy for him, wasn’t enough for his insatiable hunger. 

So he decided he would tease you until you were sobbing for him, begging for him. You weren’t going to get what you want until Byakuya does first. Ah, the look of desperation on your face he still had engraved in his mind, he could feel his pants tighten slightly.

Pouting at his unresponsiveness, you swiftly made your way to the back of his chair, caressing your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Master, look at me.” You persisted, bending down to lean your chin on his shoulder, face next to his as you folding your abdomen over the shirt you were wearing. To clarify, his shirt, and just his shirt. He could recognize the white cotton material, and as much as he wanted a peek, his need to see you on your knees for him was much bigger. 

Instead of letting you see his eyes, his eyes full of lust and want, he focused them onto the page, glazing over the words, yet not quite registering them in his mind as you preoccupied it. “M-master why aren’t you…” You trailed off, gulping as the realization of what he wanted—or at least thought he wanted— dawned on you. Slowly getting on your knees, you sat on your heels in front of him, head bowed down to look at his shoes. “Is this what you wanted?” You peaked up to try and take a quick look at his face, a low whine rumbling in your throat as you saw Byakuya flip another page. 

“I-I’ll act like a dog for you..! R-ruff ruff! I-is this enough? P-please..! I don’t like it when y-you ignore me…” You huffed quietly underneath your breath, feeling little shame for the act you had just performed in front of your heir. Though you were upset Byakuya hadn’t even spared a glance to you, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the humiliation; your panties had been soaked the moment Byakuya decided not to talk nor pay attention to you.

 “Master please, I n-need you.” he didn’t even need to say anything, and yet here you are, sitting on your knees and barking for him; convinced that this is what he wanted, not what you secretly needed. He wanted to laugh, he made you like this. He made you so corrupted, and he felt disgustingly proud of that fact. “Hm.” Deciding to throw you a bone, he closed his book and fixed his eyes on you, “You’re a good pup for me, no?” 

He reached down to tap your chin. Getting a bit eager, you rose up, straightening your thighs so they were vertical. Grabbing eagerly onto his thighs, you leaned your head into his touch, looking at him with an adoration that seemed impure. “Y-yes! Yes, I’m a good puppy. I’m such a good pup for you, only you!” Your doe eyes stared up at him loyally, making him growl underneath his breath. 

“Look at you, you weren’t even able to take it last time, and yet you’re still coming back to me for more? Will you even be able to handle what I’ll give you?” You opened your mouth to say you could in protest, yet Byakuya cruelly interrupted, “After last time? You could barely handle it.” There was a snarl painted across his cold face, and yet it only seemed to make you wetter. 

Even if he seemed like he was mocking you, you could still hear the softness in his voice as he trailed off. You detected his worry, and so you did your best to show him you could handle it. Your voice wavered, but you stood your ground, clutching whatever was left of your confidence tightly, “I’m not the same as before, master.” Not only did you Byakuya with your newfound confidence, but you surprised yourself as well. 

You didn’t even recognize your voice, but you didn’t care, it seemed to be working. Leaning and hovering over Byakuya’s slightly stunned figure, you challenged, “I’d be more worried if you could handle me.” Your hands gripped Byakuya’s knees as you used them to support your body that had been arched against him. Byakuya’s stunned expression only lasted so long as his face twisted into a snarl, before kissing you roughly, teeth clashing against his.

As he kissed you, he could feel your hands slipping slowly down the valley of his thighs, and so, he pulled away suddenly and leaned down, perching your stomach on his shoulder. Confused, you let out a “Mast-?”, before he stood up, your body being hurled up along with him as he walked with ease. 

Dropping your body on the mattress, Byakuya quickly searched his table for the handcuffs, sighing satisfied as he found them. Smiling widely, you held your wrists out for him, slightly startling but pleasing Byakuya. In a rare moment, he snorted, “Good girl. ...Though, you’ll soon regret that.“ Standing up from the bed after he tied you to the headboard, he searched his drawers once again, bringing out something pink this time.

Glancing side ways to see your terrified face, “Remember this?” Your eyes widened at the familiar toy he fiddled within his hand, your heart beating erratically fast. “You still think you can take it?” He hunched over your body, one hand supporting his body, and one hand holding the toy scarily close to your glistening cunt.

Waiting patiently, he watched your expression, searching for any type of hesitation, yet finding.. none?

Snarling at your persistent face, he tried teasing you, to scare you to say no, “We never got to see what this did, did we now?” He said through gritted teeth, testing you by pressing it against your hole, making your legs widen slightly from contact. He looked at you in disbelief, “You’re not even- Wow, you… you really are my little slut, aren’t you?” His smile, villain-like. Beaming up at him, you inhaled sharply in relief as he finally understood, “Uhuh! Ye-ssss!” Your jaw dropped, eyes rolling back in your head as you arched your back into the vibrations that Byakuya had turned on suddenly. 

“M-master, it feels really good..!” You felt like your brain was scattered, fuzzy as you lost yourself. What was your name again? Pet? It didn’t matter anyway, as your legs shook from your first orgasm. Feeling Byakuya press the toy harder against your clit, you arched your back on instinct, wailing out pleas. “Gonna cream, s-second timeee!” You whined, breathing sounding more like wheezing as your chest heaved from the overstimulation. Your drool trailing down your open mouth, and getting on his once clean dress shirt you wore.

Your eyes scrambled back up to look at your master, wanting to see his eyes you adored so much. Gasping and frantically looking around as you didn’t see him, “M-ma-!” You squirmed against the toy, panting for air as you felt it rub against your clit slightly. “Right here, baby.” 

Your face whipped towards the sound of his voice, eyes focused on him, though your vision was slightly blurred from the tears of pleasure and possibly desperation. Your gaze was intense, unblinking, yet the rest of your face was a fucked out mess, your body twitching and writhing without control as you still kept your eyes on him.

“Hhnng!” You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but you couldn’t help it as your third orgasm came up, forcing you to scream into his pillows. “M-m-!” You sobbed out, unable to speak his name as moans and cries overlapped it. He could see your body twitch from the toy, squirming away from it as the oversensitivity eventually got to you.  

He swiftly got to action, yanking your twitching legs wide apart, pushing the toy deep inside your pussy instead of your clit. He sighed shakily as he saw how easy the toy slipped in, your screams sounding like music to his ears. He could feel you squirming against his iron-tight grip on your ankles.  “You said you could take anything. Am I wrong? So take it.” The sound of his voice scared you in all honesty, but you couldn’t seem to even focus your attention onto how dangerous he sounded, as you fell into yet another orgasm. 

[seven-oomen]

If You Are Going Through Hell, Keep Going

These are the words that Marin Morrell – Druid, Emissary, Guidance Counselor – says to Stiles Stilinski in “Battlefield” (02x11) And I think they suit his character just perfectly, because Stiles has been going through Hell all his life.

The Teen Wolf Fandom don’t talk nearly enough about Stiles’ traumas, so I’ll try my best to do it myself *I won’t even remotely touch on the Void Stiles, Dark Stiles, Donovan and the Nogitsune trauma though, because it’s extremely complex and deserves its own Meta*

It’s Canon that Noah was an alcoholic (as Rafael pointed out to Stiles in 03x11 Alpha Pact), that he neglected and lashed out at his own child (Stiles’ memory in 02x09 Party Guessed), and that Stiles was verbally, emotionally, and physically abused by his mentally ill mother, Claudia, throughout his childhood (there’s a whole magnificently acted, heart wrenching scene about it with flashbacks and all in 05x06 Required Reading.) It’s Canon that Stiles had to take care of himself and of his father before AND after Claudia’s death. And it’s Canon that Stiles – who was only an eight years old child at the time – was at the hospital with his mother when she died, nobody else:

[Teen Wolf Season 3 Episode 11, Alpha Pact]

CHRIS: You knew… I remember meeting you once, before you were Sheriff. You questioned me about a body. You knew something was up. You just weren’t ready to believe it.

NOAH: You’re right. There was a night eight years ago… the night my wife died. I was at the end of a shift, and a call came in. There had been a pile-up, and a young woman… she was a teenager, actually. She was trapped under an overturned car. We had to wait for the paramedics. We were never getting her out, but I was able to hold her hand. She knew she was gonna die. But I just kept telling her “No, no, listen. The paramedics are on their way.” And then I remember her hand suddenly gripped mine so tightly that I literally thought she was gonna break the bones. And she looked me in the eyes, and she said “If you wanna be with her, go now.” And I knew she was talking about my wife… But then that other part of my brain — the part that looks for clues, for fingerprints, for logical connections… that part told me that there is no way that this girl could possibly know about Claudia. And so I stayed. I stayed until the paramedics pulled her out. Until her heart stopped beating and they declared her dead.

NOAH: When I finally got to the hospital, I saw Stiles sitting in the waiting room with his head in his hands… He was with Claudia when she died.

NOAH: But I wasn’t. I wasn’t with her because I didn’t believe… I just did not believe.

It’s also Canon that Derek Hale is a rape victim and that the hunters slaughtered Derek, Cora and Peter’s entire pack/family (including humans and children.) And it’s Canon that Stiles immediately sides with the Hales and openly confronts Chris about what Kate had done to the Hales in 01x12, Code Breaker:

CHRIS: Let me ask you a question, Stiles. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?

STILES: No. I could put it on my to-do list, if you just let me go.

CHRIS: Well, I have. And the only thing I’ve ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you wanna know what happened?

STILES: Not really. No offense to your storytelling skills.

CHRIS: He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet in his head. The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?

STILES: No. And it sounds like you need to be a little bit more select—

CHRIS: Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock him up?

STILES: Yeah, I did. I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?

CHRIS: I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that.

STILES: Oh, right. Derek said you guys had a code. I guess no one ever breaks it.

CHRIS: Never!

STILES: What if someone does?

CHRIS: Someone like who?

STILES: Your sister.

Unlike self-proclaimed hero and ruler of Beacon Hills Scott McCall, who immediately sides with the Argents and tells Derek Hale that his family deserved to be burnt alive by the hunters in front of his comatose uncle………..

-----

I feel like there is a lot to unpack on Stiles’s trauma. And I will go over these moments one by one, why they’re damaging, what I think the context of the scene is supposed to represent ft how people might take it. And what my personal thoughts are regarding Stiles’s trauma.

First of, I would like to say that the following words are my take on this. I am a 29 year old trans man of caucasian descend who is an domestic violence and abuse survivor. I am diagnosed with ADHD since 12 and diagnosed with CPTSD since this year. I understand trauma and I understand what it does to people. But I am not a professional. I am a fan, who’s responding to the submission of another, anonymous, fan.

You are completely free to have your own takes on this matter and your own headcanons. That’s what fandom is for.

That said, I would love to have a discussion if you can have it peacefully.

Stiles is a character who was (Unwillingly) neglected, emotionally traumatized and both emotionally and verbally abused by both of his parents. There is even evidence of physical abuse by his mother.

I think it does need to be said, that neither of his parents intended for this to happen. What happened in the Stilinski family was by and large a very traumatic event for everyone involved.

Noah is an alcoholic, as Stiles also confirms in the episode that Noah never really stopped drinking. His alcoholism is a result of his own traumas and possible ND mind and an unhealthy coping mechanism.

As a result of this, Noah most likely was verbally and emotionally abusive during his drunken tirades.

I personally think that before Claudia was diagnosed and got sick Stiles had a good childhood. His parents tried their best to be good parents for him and laid a good foundation for him. This is evidenced in the bond Stiles seems to have with his father in general. He’s not afraid of his father, he’s nervous about consequences. But he never gives off a vibe to me that truly says; I fear this man and I have to stay in line to stay alive.

Unlike Isaac and his father.

This also tells me, that unlike Elias Stilinski, Noah never lashed out physically at Stiles. He was trying to break a cycle of abuse but more than likely still fell victim to it himself when he could no longer cope with trauma and his neurodivergency and started drinking.

That doesn’t mean that he’s not guilty of abusing his own son. We know Noah can be neglectful and dismissive towards Stiles (even though he tries his best not to be) and has a tendency to low key insult Stiles from time to time. Whether or not he truly means to or not is up for debate, I personally think he doesn’t mean to do it, but Stiles is clearly heartbroken every time Noah accidentally lashes out. 

As evidenced by sentences: “I’ve never believed a word he said since he was born.” “Thank you, son I should have had.” (To Scott)

Stiles already has a deep founded fear that he’s not enough, that he killed his own mother, that he’s not believed by the people around him, and that people don’t want to take him seriously.

This is clear in every interaction he has with the people around him.

Which also brings me to what happened in 2x09. Now based on the context clues of that scene, I actually don’t believe Stiles saw a play-by-play memory. But rather, Stiles saw his greatest fear play out in a hallucination. 

Why do I believe that?

Because in the same scene, Allison has a hallucination about becoming her own worst nightmare (a huntress like Kate) and Scott sees a hallucination of Allison and Jackson making out. (Aka, losing Allison.) 

I think the scene both has fabrications and truths in it. The truth is that more than likely, Stiles saw his father getting drunk at his mother’s funeral and lashing out at people around him in his drunken stupor. (Which on one hand, one can understand if you take the pain and trauma into account, but it’s not a healthy or an okay thing to do, obviously. This is definitely where Noah fell apart.)

I also like to think one of the other adults put a stop to Noah’s behavior before he could get out of hand. But we never really see her funeral play out, so that is speculation.

The fabrication is the scene that follows. We know that Claudia was the one that actually said the words to Stiles. “You’re killing me, he’s killing me.” 

And that Noah was the voice of reason in that scene. “No, he’s not. You’re sick, let’s go back inside.” (Or something along those lines. I can’t remember the exact words.)

What I think is more than likely is that Stiles’s greatest fear is that his father actually believes he killed his mother. As that is what his mother said to him before she died.  And so that’s what he hallucinated under the influence of the wolfsbane.

Stiles’s greatest fear is losing both of his parents, no matter in what way that is. He also fears that he failed as a son, and failed to take care of his father. All of this is fueled by losing his mother and watching her die at a very young age.

And that is where Stiles’s trauma truly lies. He watched his mother die (at the age of 10) slowly while she lost her mind to a terrible illness. 

His father couldn’t handle losing his wife and not being able to help her and the previous traumas he endured in his own childhood. And Stiles had to step up to take care of him. That changes a child and leaves a mark. A mark that Stiles can’t shake.

We know Noah neglected Stiles by not being able to care for him as he should have, we know Noah tends to think Stiles has wild conspiracy theories and tends not to believe him.

Which traumatized Stiles even though Noah didn’t intend for that to happen. That doesn’t mean that Stiles’s trauma isn’t real though. It’s very real. This is also the reason why he immediately chooses Derek’s side in 1x12.

For Stiles, not being believed is a daily reality and he doesn’t want anyone else to go through that as well. Which is why he chooses Derek’s side. Because Stiles, due to his own trauma, is hard-wired to believe the victim and tends to defend them.

Now I think a lot of people take a lot of Stiles’s scenes literal because they identify with what’s happening on screen. Because Stiles isn’t being believed by the other characters, the audience tends to take his perspective at face value. Even in situations where it’s made clear that Stiles, like other characters, is hallucinating at the time.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I do think it’s something to consider.

Tagging a few people who might want to add a thought or two to this.

@mostly-vo1d @artemisa97 @msmischief101

[antigenius]

Submission (PART 2)

A/n: so... this took a while. Hope this is good :”))) All characters are aged up as per usual!! Warnings:  NSFW +18, this is a smut (ofc), handcuffs, unprotected sex, sliight yandere.

His fingers nestle inside you, cold thumb pressing against your nub hard. His stare was cold, malice glittered with such ferocity that your heart stopped for a moment. This wasn’t the sweet Deku you met four years back. The one that stuttered and laughed shyly when you flirted with him. This wasn’t the one that made you pancakes and cuddled you for long hours on the couch. 

This Deku was the one you hated.

The one that pushed your buttons. The one that lived to see you mad. The one that held you tight to his chest and made your heart beat become vibrations. The one that held your body by the strings, shackling you to his alluring aura.

His lips enclose yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as his fingers scissor you, stroking with utmost precision. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew what to do by memory, but how he remembered was the last thought on your mind right now.

“Iz.. Iz…”

His name was trembling from your lips. He smirked.

“Go on love, what’s my name?”

His free hand tips your chin up, a condescending glaze sending burning embers through your veins. The name rolls from your tongue, any semblance of your resistance crumbling in his touch.

“Izuku…!”

A hard press on your nerves made you shudder in absolute euphoria. The cuffs made a rattling noise as he softly chuckles.

“Mhm, don’t wear it out too much now.”

His fingers curled into your sopping walls, feeling you clench and curse around them. You could feel them reignite fires in your stomach, fires that you thought had been doused long ago. Your pitiful cries grow louder, the cuffs jangling fervidly to try and free themselves. Your hands longed to roam down his beautiful chest, pull his curls and get your lips together, to feel his abs rippling under your lips, to feel his pecs just beneath your fingertips.

“Izuk-“

His lips crash onto yours, heat flaring to your cheeks at sudden intensity. His tongue was hot and silky, the piercing leaving a slight metallic taste in your mouth. It was sloppy, it was breathtaking, it was all you needed to become putty in his hands. 

His fingers leave your soaking cunt, the cold air hitting it and making your thighs rub again. 

“C’mon, your turn.”

You look at him quizzically as he rolls his eyes. 

“Dumbass.”

He shoves you down to your knees, unbuckling his belt.  

“Don’t make me use this on you sweets.” He smacks the belt on his palm twice, a resonating ‘smack’ bouncing in the room’s walls. “Only brats need the belt, and you’re not a brat, right?”

You hated his fucking eyes. His eyes would be one day the death of you. The way they looked down on you, how they devoured you and rendered you useless in every single situation had you fuming. He cleared his throat.

“I expect an answer, sweets.”

“Y-Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes who?”

“Yes, Deku.”

A smile paints itself onto his face. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

With a bit of rustling, his jeans and boxers hit the floor. He kicks them behind him. 

Now if there was ever a pretty cock, Deku’s was fucking gorgeous. 

The tip was red, angry from being withheld in his boxers, precum dribbling at the top. It was an average length, but gods was it girthy. It could stretch you in ways you couldn’t get from anyone else. Just like the rest of his body, freckles speckled on his dick like constellations. They were like the sprinkles on a cake, the finishing touch to perfection. 

“Whatcha staring for huh?” He smacked the belt again, eyes cold and hard. “Get to it.”

Begrudgingly, you shuffle to him, coming face to face with his cock. You look up at him, and he looks down at you.

“Go on,” he says, “or do you need encouragement?”

You shake your head. 

You face back to the cock in front of you. You start with open-mouthed kisses from the base to the top, earning soft grunts of approval and content from the male receiving. You trail the flat of your tongue against the underside of his member, lazily flicking up after the head. It was just how he liked it.

You watch him carefully as you do this, watching his eyebrows knit together and eyes screw shut, watching the tip of his ears turn a rosy shade of red as he hisses.

“Fuck…”

You take the head of his cock and suck, a low groan leaving his plush lips. Still sensitive, like you remembered. You felt his hands run through your hair as you let more of him into your mouth, easing yourself onto him.

However, you didn’t expect him to push your head all the way. 

“You were taking too long.”

Your gag reflex was strong, but sudden movements like that makes life harder. Tears prick the corner of your eyes in pain, eventually accustoming to his length. You could feel hm pull your hair, humming.

“Aw… Haven’t sucked dick in a while huh?”

You mumbled under your breath. He pulled you off of him, your scalp aching from his strong grip. 

“What did you say?”

You pant, albeit breathless. Nevertheless, you get the words out of you. 

“Not like you’d know.”

He laughs at your statement, his cackles almost sounding maniac.

“Cocky aren’t we?” He giggles. “I nearly forgot how fun you were.”

In one swift motion, he pins you to the wall. The handcuffs clash against the plaster. Your breath leaves your lungs in a whooshing movement, coughing as he comes close to you.

“No one’s like you, sweets. No one hates me like you do. No one despises me like you do.” His lips hover over yours, and you could feel his breath over your lips. “Yet, no one loves me like you do. No one wants me like you do. No one needs me like you do.”

His lips press gently onto yours, not a kiss, but you felt skin upon skin. “So instead of staying in that horrid hate-love cycle…” Deku’s eyes were downcast.

“… why don’t you just let me love you?”

He was so close, your bodies were up against each other, you could feel his heart beating fast just by being near you. He felt so warm…

You swallow down the fuzzy feelings. This man was obsessive! He’d write a whole journal on your every movement, take photos from rooms you didn’t even know had a window, and would find you WHEREVER you were. He was scary. He was not to be trusted.

So why did you melt in his touch?

Why did you let his lips touch yours so delicately, something only lovers would do?

Why did you let him see you so vulnerable, to order you around and wrap you around his finger?

His lips were still, waiting for an answer. Your mind felt like goo, nothing coherent coming to the surface, only that he was right in front of you, waiting.

“I love you.”

Those three words made your heart soar and fall at the same time. Those three words made you angry and happy. Sweet, sour. Being weak and in power. They mixed your bubbling pot of emotions even further, when it was already a mess to begin with. 

Your mouth opens ever so slightly, his lips mimicking your movement. The words you wanted to say however, were stuck. You were choking, choking on nothing and everything.

“I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, moving away a bit, the cool air on your face a bittersweet refreshment. “I know you’re gonna say-“

“I love you too.”

He stops. He looks at you in complete confusion, eyes blinking in surprise. You hated to admit it, but even with his creepy tendencies, you knew he was a good guy. You knew he was kind, caring and romantic. You knew he’d never hurt someone for no good reason. You knew he was everything you wanted and more. 

You loved him.

“Really?” Deku’s eyes were bright, glittering with joy. “You mean it right? You’re not gonna leave again, right?”

You almost felt guilty now, for breaking up all those years ago. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe the girls were wrong. Maybe you had to give him another chance. You were just peer-pressured into it by Mina and the gang, but didn’t know Deku like you did, right?

“Here, let me get those off you.”

He brings your hands down, freeing you from the cuffs. They drop to the floor with a clatter. Your eyes flicker from the cuffs back to him. Your eyes met. He approaches you, and this time, you don’t step away.

“May I?”

His hand tips your chin, but it’s different. It’s soft, it’s affectionate, it’s tender. You nod, never taking your eyes off him. He leans down; your noses touch. 

A kiss. 

It was like a contract.

A contract binding you to him. 

He pushes you against the wall again, lifting your legs up and apart. His dick was still fully erect, pulsing, throbbing. His eyes were on you.

“Ready?”

His tone sounded so warm, soothing. You nod again. He pushes into you slowly, stretching you, taking great care to make sure you were okay. You felt loved. You felt cared for. You felt full.

“… I’m gonna move now.”

His thrusts were loving. They explored you, they filled you, like a missing piece of a puzzle you never could’ve solved on your own. You wrap your legs tight around him, letting his hands intertwine with yours. He was so close to you. He was so good to you. 

“Iz-Iz…” The whine spills from your swollen lips. “F-fuc-”

He nips your neck, making you arch your back into him. Small marks bloomed across your neck and chest. Deku was meticulous, making sure there was no space left without some attention. You could hear him mumbling sweet nothings to you, sweet, sweet nothings that left your mind even messier than before.

He re-angles himself a little, hips coming onto yours with a loud ‘slap’. He brushes against your walls, teasingly rubbing your g-spot.

“Izuku!!” You buck into him, desperate to get that pleasure again. He smiles.

“Sorry sweets, I couldn’t help it.” He kisses your jaw. “You’re adorable like this.”

So he rubs again, and again, and again, until you saw stars. You grip his hands tight, knot unfolding.

“Izuku!!!”

He doesn’t answer, so you cum. The pleasure sends a current through your veins, a shuddering moan leaving you. Deku doesn’t stop, instead he carries you onto the sofa, the punishing pace from before getting quicker, his length going deeper.

“W-wait!-“

Your words were nothing. Any attempt at begging or pleading were deaf against his ears. Your walls squeezed tight around him, as if trying to slow him down. The action only spurred him further, the wet squelching sounds reverberating shamelessly. It was only a matter of moments when you felt the feeling rise up again, bubbling in your stomach.

“Izu… ku!”

A quiet growl comes from the back of his throat as he pinched your nipples. “What, sweets?”

“I-I-I-“

He doesn’t let you finish, his lips entangling with yours. It was heated, it was hot. He tasted like strawberries, sickenly sweet. Each kiss was like drinking saltwater. You’d drink and drink, but never felt quenched. Your skin was stained red as he cradled you close, his cock exploring every crevice, every nook and cranny within you. He pulls his lips away from yours, eyes piercing into you.

“Who do you belong to?”

His eyes were dark. Forest green turning to jade. You could barely say anything, let alone reply.

“Who?” He asks again, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“Y-you.”

He shakes his head, rolling your nipple between his forefinger and his thumb. “Who?”

“I… Iz…”

You could feel your whole-body trembling, your whole being quivering beneath him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your hips pushed hard against his. You could feel electricity crackle down your spine, the building pressure making everything in your vision go white.

“IZUKU!”

Hearing what he wanted, Deku lets himself release, a heavy thick load spilling into you. He lets your back rest against the sofa’s surface, staying in that position so you got every single drop in you. It was hot, viscous, and so filling. You let your tongue hang out in a pant as more came out of him. 

“So…” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Wanna go for a round two?”

Despite your hate, your despise, your disgust, you had been pulled back into submission.

You were always his, you just needed a little reminder~

[sasarahsunshine]

Broken

Warning: Blood, beating, stabbing, angst. Temporary character death. Spencer Reid whump and hurt Derek Morgan.

Pairing: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid | Moreid

You can also read this on AO3.

He could handle anything He did to him. He had been beaten black and blue before, blown up, shot at, and stabbed. He could handle it. He survived in the past, and he’ll survive this, too. 

So, being thrown to the ground so hard that his head bounced off the concrete, the air being forced from his lungs as a steel-toed boot slammed into his stomach, he convinces himself that he’ll be okay. Because he can handle it. He was Derek fucking Morgan. A respected and hard-working FBI agent, for crying out loud. He could handle it.

However, what he couldn’t handle was being handcuffed to a metal pipe that jutted from the cold wall. What he couldn’t handle was the submissive partner grabbing him by the chin and forcing him to look up as the dominant partner walked into the room with someone else in his arms, their thin figure fighting hard against his firm grip. What he couldn’t handle was the look of fear that flashed behind Spencer Reid’s eyes when he finally noticed the bruises and the blood that had marred his lover’s face. 

“What-?” He choked, coughing as the vile taste of pennies slipped down his throat. He yanked against the handcuffs, the sharp metal digging into his wrists in a numbing sort of burn. How did they get to Spencer? He was supposed to be back at the hotel!

“Derek!” Spencer’s voice was hoarse, his eyes red and cheeks tear-streaked. Damien, the dominant partner, threw Spencer to the floor, the lanky doctor’s knees cracking against the cement. He gasped silently, cursing, before reaching for Derek in an attempt to crawl to him. Damien’s boot came down on Spencer’s wrist, pinning him to the ground with a yelp. He squatted, his elbows on his knees as a hand softly gripped Spencer’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “Huh. Guess you are a pretty boy,” he said with a click of his tongue and a twisted grin. “I’m sure I can change that.”

Derek growled, yanking against the handcuffs again. He could feel the bite of the metal as it threatened to break his skin. “Leave him alone! You wanted me, remember? This whole thing was for me, right? So let him go, and take out your anger on me, like you wanted!” He didn’t know where the burst of energy came from, but he wouldn’t let it go now that he had it. He needed to keep Damien’s attention on him.

Damien rolled his eyes, dropping Spencer’s chin with force before gripping his hair, forcing his head back. Spencer swallowed, closing his eyes tightly to try and mask his emotions. Damien tugged at his roots, gazing over the pale expanse of Spencer’s gorgeous neck. His grin was wicked as he noticed a small hickey hiding under the collar of the genius’s sweater. 

“You know,” he started, his other hand going to yank the sweater aside so he could get a better look, “I’ve been watching you for a while, Derek Morgan. The day you murdered my father was the day I knew I would get revenge for him. At first, I thought about just killing you.” He stood up, releasing Spencer’s wrist just long enough to kick him over, then slam his foot right into Spencer’s stomach, making him gasp sharply and curl into himself. Derek shouted, “No! I said leave him alone!” He was fuming. His wrists were starting to bleed. 

“But then I thought, why not take someone you love so dear away from you? Then we’d be even.” Damien’s shoe connected with Spencer’s face, a sickening crack echoing in the concrete room as Spencer screamed out. Derek screamed too, his body protesting to how hard he was pulling against the pipe. 

Damien’s partner, Justin, was standing off to the side, wincing as he watched Damien kick Spencer again and again, aiming for his stomach and chest. 

Derek felt his tears, hot, unrelenting, as they flowed freely down his cheeks to the sounds of Spencer’s agony. His pain. He kept yelling at Damien, begging, pleading, asking him to “Please just stop- you’re going to kill him.” But he didn’t relent. 

Derek could handle a beating. He could handle a knife stabbing through his stomach, a bullet to the shoulder, an explosion at his back. He could handle acid on his skin. He could handle the pain because he was strong and capable—a survivor. 

But he couldn’t handle watching the love of his life being tortured before his very eyes. His heart was hammering against his chest, breaking with every shout that left Spencer’s bloodied lips. His lungs hitched as he choked on his sobs, his shoulders quivering with every ragged breath he took.

Damien eventually paused, crouching down, lifting Spencer’s head by his hair, the young agent wincing with blood and tears and snot dripping down his chin and splattering to the floor. Damien’s eyes scanned the damage done, watching Spencer’s uneven breathing, his gasps for air. He listened to Derek’s incoherent rambling behind him. “Please, please, please, please-”

“Oh, shut up,” Damien finally said as he dropped Spencer’s head, the genius’s forehead connecting with the concrete with a loud smack. He curled into himself, wheezing, his eyes closed tightly. His sobs were more like hiccups; each exhale misting the floor with droplets and bubbles of bright red. 

Derek was shaking, his hands utterly numb as blood pooled down his arms and dripped off his elbows. He would severe them entirely if it meant getting to Spencer and holding him. His lungs felt heavy as he gasped between sobs, his eyes glued to Spencer’s trembling figure. There was so much blood. “Spence- Spence, please look at me,” he begged silently, his vision blurred at the edges as more tears welled in his eyes. Spencer didn’t look, didn’t even move.

Damien stood up, looking down at his handiwork with a tilt of his head. He hummed, turning and walking to Derek. With a sinister chuckle, he grabbed Derek’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes, “I have a knife. I was wondering if I should just put him out of his misery now, or if I should let you watch him bleed to death?”

Derek narrowed his eyes, yanking his chin from Damien’s grip, “You’re sick! You won’t get away with this! I’m going to-”

“To what? Arrest me? You’re not really in a position to do that, agent,” Damien spat, glowering. He pulled out his knife, flipping it over in his hand once, twice, three times. He grinned again, “Maybe I’ll stab him anyways. Then make you watch him bleed to death. A win-win for me.”

Derek swallowed, all of the fight leaving him as his shoulders sagged. He was so tired. “Please, don’t. I’d rather you kill me. Just leave him alone. Please.” Justin just shifted from one foot to the other before looking at Damien, waiting for his decision. 

Damien glared at Derek, “You don’t get to beg. You didn’t give my father that chance, now did you?”

“Your father was a murderer!” Derek shouted as Damien walked back towards Spencer, the knife poised in his hand. Derek felt his shoulder aching as he pulled against his cuffs again, “He had a gun to the girl’s head! I took that shot to save her!” He didn’t know why he was trying to explain himself; it wouldn’t make a difference. Because the cold indifference in Damien’s eyes told him that he didn’t care. Like father, like son. 

Damien didn’t even hesitate to kick Spencer over onto his back, pushing the man’s arms away before plunging the knife into his stomach and twisting. The mangled scream that rang out in the room could have been Spencer’s-- it could have been Derek’s-- either way, it was an agonizing sound that reverberated through Derek’s body, ripping his heart in two.

Spencer coughed, blood pooling behind his lips and dribbling down the sides of his mouth, dripping off his chin. His eyes closed.

Derek was screaming, “Spencer!” His shoulder popped from its socket as the pipe burst from the wall with the force he yanked against it. Justin fell backward into the wall from alarm, his eyes wide with fear, “Damien!” But Damien only grinned, taking a step back to see what Derek might try to do next. He still had the handcuffs on both wrists behind his back. He wasn’t going anywhere. 

Derek collapsed to his knees beside Spencer, cursing that he couldn’t hold him. He dropped his forehead against his beloved’s, tears sliding down his face, “Spencer-- Spencer, come on. Open your eyes, please. Spencer, look at me-- look at me.” He could smell the metallic scent of death and blood with every breathy wheeze that came from his partner’s opened mouth. He could hear the way Spencer’s lungs were filling with fluid, how he sounded like he was drowning in his own blood.

Derek snarled, looking up to see a retreating Damien and Justin, the two rushing up the stairs, a bloody knife in Damien’s grasp. He shouted after them, “Damien! You’ll pay for this! I’ll kill you myself!”

A soft whimper broke his attention, and he looked down, seeing Spencer’s gorgeous face contort in pain, another cough racking through his whole body. He shushed him, pressing their foreheads together again, “Shh, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” his voice cracked. He swallowed thickly, watching as Spencer tried to open his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering with drops of tears dotting them. He pressed a kiss to Spencer’s nose, “Just, just stay with me, okay? I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

“‘Sokay,” Spencer whispered. His voice sounded like he was speaking underwater. It made Derek sob, shaking his head, “No, no, it’s not okay. Spencer, please, just stay with me. Talk to me, okay?”

Spencer was quiet, aside from the gentle wheeze that came in uneven breaths, his chest rising and falling in small tremors. Derek bit his lip. He was about to watch his beloved die. He couldn’t handle that. “Spence? Talk to me, please,” he whispered, pleaded, his lips brushing against Spencer’s forehead, tasting of blood and sweat. He just wanted to hold him. “Please.”

“Der,” Spencer inhaled sharply, his face twisting up as he tried not to cough. Derek pushed his body closer to him, “Yeah? What’s up, baby?”

“I just…” Spencer’s breathing was slowing down. Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, his shoulders shaking as he tried not to cry. When Spencer spoke again, his voice was so quiet, so far away, Derek wasn’t sure that he even heard him. But he did, and it made him break down, his forehead falling to Spencer’s chest as he willed life back into his love, his partner, his soulmate. He sobbed, his face pressing into the blood that was supposed to be inside of Spencer, pumping through his veins, keeping him alive. But now it was spilled from his wound, drenching the floor in a brilliant deep red. And then Spencer was gone.

“I love you.”

~~~~~

Rossi slammed the door open, followed by two SWAT team members and Hotch, a flashlight and his gun in hand. He shone the light around the darkened basement before it landed on the crouched figure of Morgan, his body bloodied and shaking. “Hotch!”

Hotch hurried down the steps, landing on his knees beside Morgan and Reid, his eyes wide and looking over the two of them frantically. “Morgan,” he spoke sternly, forcing his agent to look at him, “Reid?”

The tears streaming down Morgan’s face was all he needed to see before he looked over his shoulder, screaming, “Medic! We need a damn medic!” Rossi dropped behind Morgan, unlatching the handcuffs from his bloody wrists. The moment he was free of his metal prison he threw his arms over Reid, pulling him into his lap and sobbing. 

Rossi had to wrap his arms around Morgan’s middle, holding him still when the medics came down. Morgan had no fight left in him, watching with weary eyes as they loaded Reid onto a stretcher, their voices background noise to the roaring of his thoughts. I failed. I failed Spencer. I lost him. What am I going to do now?

“There’s a pulse!”

“It’s thready, if best.”

“Call ahead and let them know to prep for an emergency surgery.” 

Did he hear right? Morgan’s head shot up as he watched the paramedics carry Reid away, Rossi still holding him and shushing him from behind. He yanked himself away, standing to his shaking legs, “Did they- he’s alive?”

“Barely,” Hotch said as he grabbed Morgan by the arm, leading him up the stairs, “Get in that ambulance, Morgan. And let them check you over too. We’ll meet you at the hospital.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. One that Morgan was not going to argue with.

Once loaded into the ambulance, a more common occurrence than Derek would ever want to admit, he grasped at Spencer’s hand with his good arm, ignoring the blood that stained his skin. He watched the medics work, hooking up wires and tubes to his partner’s body, an oxygen mask going over his face. One of them began working on the knife wound immediately, covering it with gauze to stop the bleeding. They began talking about numbers, BP, heart-rate, things that Derek zoned out. 

He was too busy looking at Spencer’s face, trying to remember what it looked like behind the bruises and the blood. Under the pain was the most beautiful man he had ever met, whose eyes were the brightest shade of brown, glittering in the sunlight like gold. Whose nose would scrunch up adorably when he was being teased. Whose tongue would poke out and run along his bottom lip when he was thinking intently, his eyes scanning over files and files of casework. Beyond the broken man that was before him now was his true love.

He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t handle that.

Arriving at the hospital was chaos. Derek fought hard to follow Spencer into the emergency room, but eventually collapsed in Hotch’s arms as he watched them wheel his soulmate away. What if Spencer died on the table? What if he never got to see him again? What if he never got to hold him at three in the morning, tangled up in each other’s limbs, planting soft kisses on exposed skin, ever again? 

He couldn’t handle that. 

Six agonizing hours later, with Derek’s wrists stitched and wrapped up nicely, his shoulder popped back into place, his cuts and bruises treated, a doctor finally walked into his room, a clipboard in hand. “Derek Morgan?”

“Yes?” He glanced up at her, his eyes and body heavy. He was exhausted. 

“Dr. Reid is out of surgery,” she smiled, “and he’s been put into a room. He’s going to be okay. He’s a fighter, they told me. And seeing here,” she glanced down at her chart, “since you’re his medical proxy, you can go see him now.”

Derek didn’t have to be told twice, his feet carrying him straight to Spencer’s room. 

The sight of him lying there, his eyes closed, an oxygen mask covering his face with wires and tubes attached to his body, was enough to make the tears start again. Derek sat down tentatively in the chair beside the bed, taking Spencer’s hand in his own. He squeezed it, gasping as his emotions came crashing down. 

Spencer was here, alive, and right in front of him. Broken, but alive. 

A soft whimper brought his attention to Spencer’s face, his hand going to brush some of the wild curls from his love’s forehead. “Mm here,” he murmured, “I’m right here, baby.” Spencer seemed to settle then, the lines and creases by his eyes smoothing out. His body relaxed under Derek’s gentle touch.

“I’m always going to be right here,” he continued, whispering. “I love you too.”

And I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again. 

[spartanxhunterx]

So late the party has left.

Ok, I've had this submission from @starmage2 for ever and just got around to it now.

As a heads up I've changed the 'Alien invasion ' to Gorilla Grodd invasion instead. Same general thing though.

-

Paris was not a place the flash visited often or even with purpose. A city of calm and peace that was unaffected by the world's crazies, maniacs and supervillians. There has never been a reason to be in Paris, for anyone from the league. Aside from maybe taking a superspeed shortcut or flying well above the city to make time to ones real destination.

But now Flash, or Barry Allen to those close to him, feared that the millennia long peace was going to be broken. News had spread that Gorilla Grodd, One of Flash's Rivals, had snuck his way to Paris, France, with plans to use De-evolution devices to regress the human population for his own uses.

That was Not something the justice league was going to ignore, it would be like ignoring an upstart villain or a call for aid. Such things were not taken lightly.

he had long since past Paris' border and was making his way to the Eiffel tower, Where the rest of the Justice league members that were joining him would be meeting up with him. It was considered the most neutral and hidden spot in Paris after dark.

Still, he indulged himself by taking the long scenic route, confident that he would beat everyone there. Except for maybe superman but who cares about that?

So it was a huge surprise, when passing the Louvre, that a large portal opened in front of him and before he could redirect himself he was already through to the other side, his feet skid against the oiled floor as he tumbled into a pre-placed net. The trap triggered and the next thing he knew he was tied up and dangling a foot off the floor.

Ignoring the oncoming footsteps he tried twisting his limbs, if he could move just the slightest amount he could friction burn the ropes around him to free him. It wasn't until he felt something pointy touch his chest and a hand guide his chin that he looked at the perpetrators. There were three, one female, two males.

one guy looked like he was dressed up as a monkey with a Bo Staff, the girl like a bee and the other guy... Well he wasn't sure up he was going to guess a horse due to the horseshoe they had.

"Watch it speedy." The girl talked, a hint of smug laced in her voice. "Try to vibrate your way out of that and I'll stick you to the spot."

" do you have any idea who I am? What kind of trouble you'll be in for doing this? " Cause he knew the rest of the team would be suspicious if he wasn't at least the second person there, these three were playing a dangerous game and he wasn't in the mood to deal with more wannabe villains.

"The Flash," the horse? Started , gesturing to his tied up self. "Fastest man alive, scarlet speedster, defender of Central City. And if my suspicions are correct, Barry Allen. "

flash sputtered slightly, voice cracking with his next words. "W-What, No!"

" Ha! Instant denial! " The monkey exclaimed as he pointed to him before clapping the other guy on the shoulder. " You got it right on the head Pegasus."

OK, Pegasus, one name down. "So, you the ring leader here?" He turned to him and Barry realised he couldn't make out his expression due to his dark glasses, who wears sunglasses at night?

"No. I'm more of the... Tactical analysis type. Information provider and long term planner." He pointed to the other two. " My cohorts here are Abeille and roi singe. "

 "The more important thing here, is why is the justice league here in Paris when you've been banned from entering."

 " What! When did this happen!? "

 "Six years ago."

Flash stared dumbfounded at the three, all attempts to escape forgotten. The JL was banned from Paris? And had been for six years? "Why?"

" Oh please. " Abeille scoffed as she picked up her discarded coffee drink, taking a slow sip to force tension to grow. "Don't act like you don't know why, you're fully aware and if not?... Ask Green lantern."

Roi singe's Bo Staff let out a chime and he slid open the panel to reveal the communicator. "Anything on your end yet?" The voice on the other end was feminine, the three Parisian heroes easily recognized Ladybugs voice.

" Yeah actually, managed to bag the Flash, trap worked like a Charm. "

"The Flash? Interesting. See what he knows, we've got reports of odd noises coming from an old abandoned warehouse. Me, Viper And Ry are gonna check it out, Chats on the way to you and so are some local Officers, let them deal with the Flash. "

"So, what are you doing here Speedy wonder?" Pegasus smacked Roi on the chest before turning his critical gaze to the tied up hero.

"What he means is, why are you hear and who else should we expect, I doubt you came to Paris for a holiday. You shouldn't have been caught by this trap, you react too fast, you were occupied with something."

" The JL had received reports that Grodd, Gorilla Grodd, has made his way to Paris. Nothing good had ever come from him being anywhere near humans so we sent a team to deal with it before too much damage can arise. "

The three of them looked at each other skeptically, since when did the JL care about collateral damage?

"Ok, meet up point, now."

" You think I'm gonna tell that to a bunch of upstart villains? "

There was a moment of silence before the three of them burst out laughing, Roi had to prop himself up by his staff while Abeille almost doubled over. When she was done she splashed the remains of her, now cold, coffee over the heroes face.

"Villains? Really?" She sneared pulling the heroes face closer to hers. "We are the heroes of Paris, Defenders of France, part of the Miracle team. If you ever get the chance, ask Diana what a Miraculous is... And she will know, any statement to the contradictory is a lie."

"Now, meet up location?"

" Eiffel tower. "

" Who will be there? "

"Batman, Superman, Wonder woman, Green lantern And Robin."

"Good. Officer Cuff him and give him a cell." Unknown to The Flash several officers had arrived, they quickly slapped on some anti-meta handcuffs before removing him from the net , shoving the 'hero ' into the police car before driving away.

"Chat's on his way to the tower, let's give him some back up."

-

It was twenty minutes later, the use of two vemons, one uproar and the combined might of Pegasus, Abeille, Roi singe, Chat Noir and Carapace to subdue the heroes who had been waiting for the Flash.

Not that the flight was difficult, not while Green lanterns ring was on the Fritz and couldn't form a single thing, Superman was Frozen in place, Along with Robin, Batman was being held in a restraint by Carapace and Diana had been given a fright by being teleported way above them for a few moments before she and Green lantern were tied up in Abeille's Wire.

it was a good thing the team was well within their mid twenties, had they been teens their miraculous would have run out by now. Instead they could cast their powers as much as they wished while only gaining some exhaustion if they went too far. Without the fear of de-transforming.

"Well... That was easy." Roi Singe leaned against the frozen Form of Robin, not bothered by the fact that the violent vigilant was frozen mid-strike.

"I don't think..." Carapace grunted as he tightened his grip to Batmans arms , keeping a hold above his elbows so he could keep the man's arms behind his back. "Getting the drop on unsuspecting people AND freezing their power player," his head jutted to superman, where Chat Noir was happily sitting on his shoulders as he played with his tool. "Can be considered a fight, more like a slaughter really. "

"I agree." Abeille nodded as she tugged her two captives closer to her, without missing a beat she sat on the Amazonian's back before propping her feet up on Green lanterns head. "So, greenie, recognise us?"

"Should I?" He tried to move his head from under the bee hero's foot but was quickly met with the heel of said foot impacting the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for!?"

" You really don't recognise me Hal Jordan? " Chat Noir growled out as he leaped off supermans shoulders before lifting the other others face with his baton.

Said hero stiffened at his name and the Cat Hero took it as his cue to continue. "The justice League receive, over a period of three years, a large amount of calls for aid from France, Paris specifically."

Both Batman and Wonder woman ceased their resistance as they heard this, why was this the first time they were hearing it?

"From two, young, barely teen, kids. Who had far too much responsibility thrusted onto them, who had to fight a maniac who mind controlled and powered up people who were experiencing negative emotion. "

"He targeted kids... A lot."

" What? " Despite their age and experience many of those present flinched at the harshness in Batmans voice, Pegasus turned to him, emotion hidden behind his darkened glasses.

"The butterfly Miraculous of Transmission is able to find people who experience strong emotion, be they negative or positive and empower them based on the current circumstances, like say... "

He paused as he tried to find a viable scenario to use.

"Ok, if you say someone falling from a tall tower and you really wanted to save them, a butterfly weilder could empower you and give you flight, either by giving you wings or... Making you like him." He pointed to superman.

"Hawkmoth, however, would wait until you had negative emotions, being dumped, bullied, fired so on and so forth normally caused these things and he would make it possible to get revenge, with the exception being that they HAD to get Ladybug And Chat Noirs miraculous to pay off the 'debt' they were in. "

"They never remembered the things they did, fortunately, can't say the same for those who died and came back to life though."

Those present Blinked, Batmans mouth opened and closed for a moment before his steely gaze landed on Hal.

"Paris once Flooded, an estimated 87% of Paris drowned that day... The other 13% wasn't purely kids."

"Hal."

" I didn't know ok! " Hal was recoiling from the glare that Batman was sending his way. "I thought it was a prank, ok! I didn't think it was real, how can you take two kids who dress up as a Ladybug And a Cat seriously?"

"You should have investigated, met up with them and assessed the situation First, not assumed."

" I know. " Hal's head hit the floor beneath him with a sigh. The Paris hero's looked at him like he was worth less then the dirt under their boots.

"If you help us tonight, we'll help you afterwards." The looks returned to Batman where after a moment a few of them scoffed.

"Hawkmoth's in jail dude." Carapace shook the vigilante's arms. "Has been for... Four years now, we've already reclaimed the lost Miraculi and the book, now we just deal with petty crime and... Well, your mess, it seems."

"Stick to punching Gotham's nutbags, we'll deal with Paris." No one objected to Chat's words, though Batman defiantly seemed to slump at them.

The cat hero shook his head at the older hero before his baton rang, his flipped it open and a moment afterwards Ladybugs voice came through, the Paris hero's were able to pick up on the urgency in her voice.

"Chat, I need you, Roi, Bee, Pegasus and Rena here now."

" on it, " He looked up as he closed his baton. "You heard her, let's go, Pegasus, get Rena, Carapace, keep an eye on these lot."

" got it dude. " He let go of Batmans arms as Abeille released both wonder woman and Green lantern from their bindings. Simultaneously both superman and Robin were released from the effects of venom as it was released. The other Paris heroes leapt away.

"So... Carapace right?" Diana extended her hand out to the turtle hero, who had leant against the railings with his arms crossed.

"I know who you are, and Tikki is not happy with you right now." She flinched at that. "For twelve years you ignored us, four years after we beat Hawkmoth do you finally show up and it's to deal with one of your own. I think I speak for all of Paris when I say, We don't want you here. "

"Since when do you have the authority to do that?" Both Robin and Carapace had a small stare off before Carapace rolled his eyes .

"Since France voted to ban all Non-miraculous heroes, which includes the justice League. You didn't care before, why care now?"

" is there anything that can be done? "

Carapace shook his head at superman. "You are far too late on that dude, there's being late to a party then there's turning up after the hosts have cleaned up. "

 "You guys turned up for the party days after it was over, so save some face, wait for them to come back, get the Flash then leave. "

"The Flash is here?"

" Dudes spending his time in a cell tonight. "

[sheerfreesia007]

Between Your Thighs

Title: Between Your Thighs

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Ofc

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 1,744

Warnings: Cockwarming, Handcuffs, Blindfold, Submission tones, Couch sex, Smut, Dildo use,

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo

Author Notes: So I had a blow job draft that was collecting dust and had started working on it but I wasn’t happy with it so I scrapped it and wrote this instead. Just a little something to flex my smut writing again.

The soft droning tone of Champ that was filling the front room of Jack’s ranch was only interrupted by the soft chirping of birds outside the bay window and occasionally of the creak of the floorboards underneath you as you shifted your body. Jack hummed softly along with Champ’s words that you had long ago stopped paying attention to as you tried not to move too much in the position that Jack had put you in almost an hour ago at the start of his remote conference meeting.

Shifting now you let out a soft whimper around the mouth of Jack’s cock as you felt the dildo seated up inside you lurch forward with your movement grazing harshly against your cervix. You knelt underneath Jack’s desk naked as the day you were born handcuffed and blindfolded with Jack’s cock resting in your open mouth. He had told you an hour ago that you were to not move, suck or make any noise otherwise he wouldn’t let you orgasm today. You had thought you could handle it but that was an hour ago and now your knees were starting to ache along with your jaw that remained open for quite some time. Drool had even started to drip out of your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay how Jack had positioned you. And you were sure that it would take you a long while to gain back your eyesight after being blindfolded for so long.

Just then you heard Champ clear his throat through the laptop and you heard the words ‘wrap this up’, which made you antsy to move but Jack’s hand came down to rest on the side of your face to stop your movement. You whimpered softly at his touch and tried to remain still as Jack spoke above you before logging off the conference call.

“You did so well sweetheart.” He crooned to you from above and you whimpered again around his cock making him grunt softly. You felt the blindfold loosen and quickly shut your eyes so that you weren’t immediately blinded once Jack slipped it off your head. “That’s it baby girl. Take your time readjusting. You did so well for me.”

His soft words were calming to you as you felt him slide his rock hard cock out of your mouth and heard his desk chair move backward against the hardwood floor. You heard the soft patter of his feet as he walked around the desk and you hesitantly fluttered your eyelids. Bright light filled your vision and you slowly closed your mouth. Moving your jaw around you kept fluttering your eyelids to try to slowly bring back your vision as the ache in your jaw was dissipating.

You heard the clink of the handcuffs from behind you as you felt them loosen around your wrists. After Jack had completely removed the handcuffs you hesitantly moved your arms from around your back to your sides and then in front of you. Splaying your hands on the floor you leaned forward and brought yourself into a downward dog yoga pose before slowly straightening out your legs to lay out behind you. Groaning lowly in your throat at the ache of your knees slowly leaving your body.

“You alright sweetheart?” Jack asked from above you and you turned your head to the side to see him squatting down next to you only wearing his green plaid button up and nothing else. His hard cock bobbed and jerked in between his thighs and you felt your mouth water again.

You hummed softly and rolled onto your back making Jack chuckle softly. “What is it pretty girl? You’ve got that devious look in your eye.” He crooned to you and gently brushed the backs of his fingers against your cheek.

“Since I was such a good girl for you I think I deserve a reward.” You responded gravelly as you swallowed the saliva that had gathered in your mouth at the sight of him. Jack smirked down at you heatedly and you watched his cock bob again between his thighs.

“And what do you want your reward to be pretty girl?” He asked sensuously and you grinned wide up at him before lifting your arms and making grabbing motions with your hands to him. Jack chuckled again and easily lifted you up in his arms cradling you close to his chest. He walked over to the couch that was only a few feet away and laid you down gently. The feeling of the soft couch cushions underneath you made you groan in pleasure. “Huh? So what do you want as your reward?” Jack asked low in tone as he leaned over you and began pressing soft wet sucking kisses to the base of your throat. Arching up against him you sighed with pleasure, you were still full due to the dildo that was still stuffed inside you and as you shifted against his own body it moved within you making you moan out for him. “C’mon pretty girl, tell me what you want.” Jack crooned down at you before biting at the base of your neck and sucking a dark mark into your skin.

“You. I want your cock buried deep inside me. I need it Jack please.” You begged him softly as your hands came up to fist in his button up shirt. Jack groaned out against your skin as he heard your words. You shivered when you felt his fingers ghosting down your sides to your hips before one hand slid between your thighs and gripped the dildo base and began to tug on it. Keening high in your throat you dug your heels into the couch and thrust your hips up.

“Look at you gripping this thing so hard. Not letting me take it out so easily huh pretty girl?” Jack asked heatedly as his eyes were trained on the space between your legs. You moaned loudly as he began to slowly pull the dildo out of your pussy. You could feel the flexible silicone sliding against your inner walls as he pulled it fully out. Breathing deeply you tried to calm your racing heart down as your arousal began to skyrocket through you. “You alright pretty girl?” Jack asked softly and your eyes darted over to see him settling in between your legs lining himself up before dragging his cock head through your folds gathering your slick.

“Fuck Jack!” You shouted as your head flung back after feeling the pleasure coursing through you just from his simple movements.

“That’s the idea pretty girl.” He teased you as he notched his cock head inside of you and you clenched around just that making him groan loudly. “You’re so good to me pretty girl.” He said softly to you as he slowly slid himself inside of you. “God damn! You’re so wet. You were this wet the whole time sweetheart?” He asked as he slid fully inside of you bottoming out making you gasp out as your hands slid under his shirt to grip his sides.

“Jack.” You gasped out softly as he began to thrust in and out of you. His lips capturing yours as you whimpered softly into his mouth. There was a heat building low in your stomach as Jack quickened the pace of his thrusts into you. Jack’s hips slammed against yours suddenly and you jerked forward grabbing onto his shoulders thrusting up against him in response. “Jack please.” you begged softly as you gripped him tightly.

Jack kept thrusting in and out of you at his new quickened pace, his face was hovering above you and you could see the sweat starting to gather on his forehead as he moved within you. You gasped when you felt him slide high up into you and reach a spot that he’d only managed to reach once before. Keening high in your throat you felt your control snap within you and a feral feeling swept you up quickly. Your legs hooked around his waist and your heels dug into his perky ass making him slam repeatedly into you. You growled low in your throat as arousal scorched your veins and turned your blood to molten lava.

“That’s it sweetheart. Let it take over. Let it go. Cum for me sweetheart.” Jack said softly to you as his hands hooked underneath your shoulders and he began to harshly pound into you. “C’mon.” he grunted harshly as you flung your head back against the couch cushions as you screamed. Pleasure had built up so hotly inside you that it was beating against your skin from underneath until suddenly the coil in your stomach snapped and the pleasurable high consumed you like a wave. You strained against Jack and your muscles tightened as your body was dragged under the wave of your orgasm. “Oh there it is.” Jack crooned as he slammed into you one more time as your walls clenched tightly around his cock buried inside of you.

Your hands dragged down his back under his shirt and you knew you left red welts down his back as he grunted slightly in pain before dropping his head to the crook of your neck and groaned low in his throat. Feeling his cum spurting up into you the heated gasp that left your lips was responded to by his low hum as you both rode out your orgasms. Your toes and fingers were tingling as if they been numb and you let out a soft breathy chuckle still feeling the after effects of your orgasm still ebbing and flowing inside you.

“Fuck that was fantastic.” you said softly in awe as you looked up at Jack who was gazing down at you with a loving tender smile. His hand came up and brushed some hair off your sweaty forehead before pressing a kiss there.

“Yeah it was.” he said warmly as he rolled the two of you on your sides and cuddled you close. “Wanna cuddle?” he asked sleepily and you grinned up at him as you settled further into his chest.

“Oh yeah.” you responded dreamily and Jack chuckled softly. The two of you gasped softly as his cock twitched inside you and your walls clenched around him in response. “Stay just like this.” you whispered as your eyelids began to droop over your eyes and Jack hummed softly before the two of you fell into satiated slumber.

[yandere-daydreams]

I feel like if anyone had Thoughts about this it’d be you but : zodiac signs as yandere ?

I have so many thoughts on this!!! I’m assuming anon wants to know about sun signs only, so that’s what I did! Keep in mind that literally every single one of these will be biased towards how I view the signs, so if you disgree then.... sorry!! (This post also might be a little long because there are. Twelve signs.)

-

Aries - Okokokok...... I would like to think..... an Aries would be a possessive, but in a very aggressive way?? Like if they’re jealous of one of your friends they will not hold back. If you wont get rid of them in your life, they’ll do it for you with little hesitation. I feel theyd be romantic and flirty, and refusing their advances just is Not an option. They’ll often lose their temper if you misbehave too much, and it wont take much to get them to that point. They’re very loud and headstrong, and will absolutely manipulate you into doing whatever they want. They aren’t very affectionate, but if you ask nicely enough they’ll begrudgingly cuddle with you (and secretly enjoy it but shhh) Their punishments: severe. Their amount of remorse: zero.

Taurus - Definitely a more submissive yandere!! Probably a delusional and when you disagree with them or tell them theyre wrong, that you don’t love them, they will probably cry so much and not speak to you for days at a time as opposed to physically punishing you. Will not get angry easily and will repress any anger they feel until one day they snap and go Crazy and break your legs or something. They will not take kindly to your nasty remarks or constant attempts to free yourself from their captivity, but they will generally react very passively because they love you and would never want to hurt you (unless they really had to, of course)!! 10/10 will make you nap with them. Constantly.

Gemini - They’re probably a little delusional, but also really obsessive and clingy!! They will force you to cuddle with them for HOURS AND HOURS and just... play with your hair... and babble about their day and the weather and whatever to keep you in their arms. It’s honestly pretty nice and relaxing, and perfect if you’re okay with lounging around all day. They’ll probably really half-ass everything too. Like yeah you’ll be in handcuffs, but if you really tried you’d probably be able to slip out of them because they didn’t bother getting ones that actually fit. Also, everytime you lash out at them they will completely brush it off and deflect everything. They will just pull you into their lap and coddle you until you’ve calmed down and stopped saying such ridiculous things to them. Will also make really dumb jokes in conversations they have with you, and you will have to laugh no matter how awful they are. I mean, unless you want to be punished (read: cuddled) more.

Cancer - A soft yandere, baby!! They will pamper the HELL out of you. They will deck your room out with the nicest furniture, get you the /softest/ handcuffs on the market, bake you your favorite desserts, the whole nine yards!! They will comfort you when you cry about your situation, but will refuse to acknowledge that they are the reason your crying. Very delusional and very manipulative, will guilt trip you into being nice to them. Very powerful puppy dog eyes. 10/10 will kiss you on the forehead and apologize for every bad thing they’ve ever had to do to you.

Leo - They were probably the popular kid in school and you probably had a massive crush on them. When u finally managed to get their attention they never stopped paying attention to you. The next thing you knew, you were locked in their attic. They are very ambitious, and once they had their eyes set on you, no one was going to get in their way. Very possessive, will cut off all of your friends for you and be very jealous!! When the roles are reversed, though, and you get jealous of their friends, it’s fine baby!! There’s nothing to be jealous of!! ^3^ Will probably spoil you a little bit, but only if you havent pissed them off recently. If you’re mean to them they will take it so personally and be so dramatic about it!!

“Can you say something to me it’s been three days.”

“I thought my voice was annoying you >:T”

“Oh my god-“

Virgo - Protective protective protective!! Will lock you in a room with absolutely no furniture with sharp corners or anything you could hurt yourself on. An actual perfectionist, will put makeup on you, do your hair so there isn’t a single strand out of place, and dress you in color coordinated outfits ONLY. Will literally take the best care of you, but it’s overbearing how much they worry about your safety all. The. Time. You will more than likely never leave the house without them, and never without at least SPF 50 sunscreen on. Will attempt to be your personal therapist, but has never properly processed and emotion before, so... they aren’t very effective. If you attempt to escape, they will punish you severely.

“Ayo I sure wish I wasn’t HERE right now ahaha sure wish I was HOME and not with YOU.”

“Oh? Ahahaha okay!” *literally breaks your fucking toes* “See! You have to stay with me!! You could get hurt much worse than this in the outside world, you have to be more careful!! :)”

Libra - Probably protective and obsessive to a certain extent. Will probably be really sympathetic?? But like in a “I cant let you go I’m sorry the world is bad and scary and I don’t want you getting hurt.” kinda way. They would want to give you a little bit of freedom, though, so they’ll let you go out with your friends occasionally, but they’ll be VERY cautious and, well, protective of you. They are very understanding and give you lenient punishments when you push them over the edge and theyre ‘forced’ to punish you, but will not comfort you afterwards to compensate for the lack of severity of their punishments. Balance, baby!

Scorpio - An obsessive for sure. Literally IN LOVE WITH YOU. Will instagram stalk you, your family, your friends, your neighbor’s dogs, ANYONE that has ever been in contact with you. They already know everything about you when they finally execute their plan to kidnap you. They’re very attractive and strong willed and will put you in your place with no hesitation, but afterwards will attempt to kiss it better because they feel sorta bad. They just want you to love them!! They crave so much attention constantly, and will want to cuddle with you and be close to you at all times. You will have to be an excellent liar, because they will be able to call you on your bullshit so easily!! They will absolutely not tolerate any lying, so it’s better to justbe honest with them, even if you think it will make them mad. 10/10 will probably stare at you for hours on end without saying a single word and then watch you sleep. All lovingly, of course.

Sagittarius - P o s s e s s i v e. Can and will beat the shit out of anyone that touches you and will beat the shit out of you if you mention someone other than them to teach you a lesson. They have very bad commitment issues because they’re afraid of the people they love leaving them, and they overcompensate for it a lot. Probably actually a little bit out of their mind beyond the whole “I have my love interest locked in my basement” thing. Will give you the bare minimum amount of the things you need to survive and will deprive you of food and water for days at a time if you say something a little too nasty to them. Is really good at saying the right things to talk you down when you’re upset after a punishment or something. Very good at making you laugh as much as you hate to admit it!! 10/10 will probably turn to sensory deprivation if all else fails just because they’re sadistic like that.

Capricorn - Very responsible, planned a lot for your arrival. Very smart, rational, and protective, they have a plan for literally any situation thrown their way. They’re very fragile but they project it all onto you, and as a result they take very good care of you. They’re kinda intimidating but actually very sweet, and they love you more than they love themself. Probably rich because they’re really good at saving money, and they’ll spoil you with every cent they have. Bossy, and if you choose to ignore what they tell you to do they will make your life miserable for the next few days. Again, they’re very serious looking and intimidating, but they have a playful and carefree side that only really comes out around you!! They love you a whole lot, and make that very clear through the gifts they give you constantly.

Aquarius - Hear me out. Remember that tsundere yandere post Daydreams made? That’s Aquarius. They are very mean and nasty!!! A true goblin, honestly. They’re totally head over heels in love with you, but they’ll make you work to earn that love, even though you didn’t ask for it. You want attention?

“Haha nerd, why would I come cuddle you?? That’s like... weird... You’re gross!!”

Do they hate you, or do they want to marry you and ride off into the sunset with you? You’ll never know, because they wont ever let you get close enough to them to figure out what goes on inside that crazy head of theirs. Overall will probably treat you well, if you’re okay with the constant bullying and berating that you’ll get from them daily, that is.

Pisces - Soft like Cancer, but obsessive like Scorpio!! Has very strong feelings for you, but doesn’t know how to manage them in a healthy way. They want you all to themself, and the only way they know how to keep you in their life is by taking you. Very manipulative and delusional.

“Haha fancy seeing you here babe!”

“I am locked in your basement and I have been for the past seven months-“

“Crazy how we just keep running into eachother! Are you, like, obsessed with me or something?”

Like Virgo, they’ll try to be your personal therapist, but Pisces is actually good at it. You can never hide how you’re feeling from them, because if they pick up even the slightest difference in your tone of voice they will dig through their brain for any possible event that could have taken place to make your mood shift even the slightest bit. Crazy, but in a very loving and wholesome way. 10/10 would take a bullet for you!!