#content: fic

[lizzybeth1986]

WIP: Closure

(Iris Young: Jung Ryeo-Won

Hazel Park: Justine Skye

President Vera Thompson: Viola Davis)

So this is a fic featuring my Asian f!Hayden, Iris, and my Black f!MC, Hazel, seven years after the events of PM2. They're married and with kids for quite a while by this point.

My hc is that President Vera Thompson was a year into her presidency during the PM2 timeline, and barely managed a victory and a second term 3 years later.

What to Expect:

- President Thompson is now leaving office after her second term. Her VP Marco is now President-elect.

- A thing that often happens throughout a president's tenure, and especially during their final days as president, is bestowing honours on people in specific fields.

- Here, half of the group (The MC, Hayden, Nadia and Steve) is getting the Presidential Medal of Freedom. The other half will get the same, but with distinction (which is an added level of honour) because of their work with the AI Commission. The latter ceremony won't feature in the fic but will be hinted at.

- Most of us who played PM remember Pres. Thompson's heartbreak about Harley's betrayal.

- The present events of this fic marks the first time Iris meets the President since the meeting at the State Dining Room, where the president couldn't even bear to look at her.

- Will things be different now?

Tagging @haydenyoungappreciationweek and @sazanes for HYAW Day 4: Identity

[valtsv]

are we still doing this because i have a late submission

[be-xkyy]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓

Warning: sexual content, age gap (22-38), delusional behavior, non con, r4pe, dubcon, drugs used, breeding kink, somnophilia, lactation kink.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Yandere Dilf who divorced his wife and was given full custody of his infant son after she cheated on him.

Yandere Dilf who loves his son very much a sweet chubby three year old baby who is all giggles and smiles (he's really adorable).

Yandere Dilf who sadly can't take care of his son all day since he has to work so he decides to hire a babysitter.

Yandere Dilf who searches for babysitters online, rejecting one after another for the smallest reasons, he thinks about giving up until he finds your resume.

Yandere Dilf who thinks you're perfect not only are you pretty but according to your resume you know how to cook, clean and everything a good (wife) babysitter should know.

Yandere Dilf who can't help but notice what the last line of your resume says "I have a lot of experience taking care of babies since I have many nephews 😊" Do you have a big family? He does too! What a wonderful coincidence.

Yandere Dilf who has to hide his excitement when he meets you for the first time, he shows you around the house and explains everything you need to know about his child before you bring him over, he feels his chest warm up when you lovingly take the baby in your arms.

Yandere Dilf who feels happy when you quickly adapt to his and his child's routine, you two become close pretty quickly and his child adores you always laughs and gurgles when you hold him and sobs if you don't pay attention to him for too long.

Yandere Dilf who always comes home from work and is greeted with your delicious freshly made home cooked meal, it just solidifies the thought that you have feelings for him too (you're actually just trying to be nice after he tells you his sad story with his ex wife)

Yandere Dilf who one day tries to make a move on you, when you're cooking in the kitchen he hugs you from behind and you immediately tense up he pulls away a little and you look at him with confusion and discomfort which confuses him a lot.

Yandere Dilf who tries to kiss you and you dodge him backing away almost in panic, he apologizes when he realizes his mistake blaming it on the loneliness he feels from his divorce, you mumble an agreement before sneaking off to the baby's room.

Yandere Dilf who is in shock when you tell him the next day that this will be your last day as a babysitter since you will quit due to yesterday's incident, he feels a sharp pain in his chest, how can you do this to him? To his son? The little boy will suffer if you leave. Don't you know that the boy loves you deeply? You are his mother after all.

Yandere Dilf who pretends to accept your decision while apologizing again for yesterday's incident and offers to make you some tea as an apology he doesn't take no for an answer so you end up accepting grudgingly.

Yandere Dilf who while you stay in the living room he goes to the kitchen and prepares the cups of green tea adding a few sleeping pills in your cup which dissolves very well before returning to your side, he contains a smile as he watches you grab the cup of tea taking a long sip.

When you fell asleep on his couch he took you in his arms and carried you to his room but not before making sure that his son was still sleeping in his crib, then he goes back to his room and approaches his bed where you sleep peacefully, he leans over you kissing your face, your cheeks, your nose, your jaw... he leaves warm traces on your skin before he begins to take off your clothes, his skillful fingers undress you and throw the clothes to the floor with indifference, he sighs admiring your body his hands come closer and squeeze your tits pulling the nipples until they harden in his fingers.

"What beautiful tits fuck... they will look even more beautiful when they are full of milk to feed our children... but you will let daddy try a little of your nectar too, right honey?"

He murmurs as if you can hear him, before he leans in and takes a bud into his mouth, sucking and licking the flesh like a hungry man, he almost seems disappointed that nothing comes out of the bud, when he is satisfied with the attention he gave your nipple he pulls away with a “pop” the swollen mound glistening with saliva, he leaves wet kisses down your breast moving lower and lower until he reaches your wet clit.

"You’re so wet… I knew you wanted this too, I knew you wanted me too… your mouth lies but she is honest..."

His warm breath fans your pussy before he flicks his tongue out to taste your juices letting out a hum at the taste, he sucks on the sensitive nerve his tongue delves into your tight core, he pumps his tongue fucking you gently trying to loosen your walls a little, your juices wet his chin when he pulls away and he wipes them away with the back of his hand.

"I swear our next time will be much better darling, but right now I just want to make love to you"

He takes off his clothes throwing them on the floor next to the pile of your clothes, when he's naked he gets between your thighs placing your legs on his shoulders, pumping his thick shaft before guiding his bulbous head to your pussy rubbing up and down a few times before finally sliding in, he sighs as your rubbery walls clench and pulse around his cock.

"Ugh! This feels so good, I knew you were perfect for me... we belong together, I'll make you so happy..."

He moves rhythmically, his cock going in and out of your pussy with a squelching sound that fills the room, his balls slapping against your plush ass as his fat tip abuses your cervix, he presses himself tighter against you keeping your legs on his shoulders in a mating hold, his free hand pinching one of your bouncing tits.

As the pleasure builds inside of him his movements become harder and faster, his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again trying to reach the sweet pleasure so he can fill your womb with his seed, the thought of getting you pregnant with his baby and you all round and overflowing with the glow of motherhood makes him cum, he stays still nailed deep inside you as ropes of his warm cum fill the depths of your fertile womb, he caresses your legs.

"We still have plenty of time until you wake up honey so don’t worry daddy will make sure that by the time you open your eyes you will be a mommy and give our child a little brother or sister~"

[olailamajnoon]

Headcanon: Jason, after coming back from the dead, decides to fuck with Bruce for revenge and also because it slaps, but mostly for revenge ykwim

Bruce blames coffee and lack of sleep for the fact that the pizza delivery boy looks like Jason, the club bouncer looks like Jason, the clerk in Damian's school looks like Jason

Jason: here's your pizza, mister *shoves it into Bruce's face*

Bruce: 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 can I ask your name

Jason: Percy, but everyone just calls me Purse. Like in "cut purse"

Bruce: *under his breath* jesus, you even SOUND like him

Jason, wide innocent eyes popping out of his chiseled man face: you okay dude?

Bruce, convinced he's finally lost his mind, but still holding on to the "illusion": Do you want to come inside?

Jason, deadpan: dude you're rich white and famous, you really think imma let you take me inside your gargantuan Gothic mansion? Being killed one time's enough

Bruce, turning around: *wHaT dId YoU sAy*

[pacofprunes]

let me help ya’ relax.

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

“hey beautiful.”

“the hell?”

standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy besides seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.

“what do you want?”

“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”

he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?

“uh—”

“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”

he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.

“you use?”

“what?”

“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”

how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.

“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”

he does a fake pouty face.

“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”

he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.

“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”

he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.

“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”

he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you go to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.

“what the fucks wrong with you?”

“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”

“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”

you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.

“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only going to make me harder.”

he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.

“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”

he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.

“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”

he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.

he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.

you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.

“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”

he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.

“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”

oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.

“agh—please—”

“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”

he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.

“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”

he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.

“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”

he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he presses his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.

“but you’re my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”

he laughs, now moving down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.

“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”

you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out, his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.

“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”

not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.

“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”

he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.

“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”

he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.

“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”

he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.

“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”

you shudder at the thought of that.

“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”

he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.

“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”

he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.

[barblaz-arts]

Gonna milk the fact that Charlie crushed on Vaggie first is canon as much as I can btw. I wanna know what living together was like for them for those few months for the sake of watching Charlie suffer.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons: Now You See Me, Now You Don’t

Yandere Conman x Rich Married Fem Reader x Yandere ‘Neglectful Tycoon’ Husband

TW: Yandere themes, a man trying to get you to cheat, manipulation, neglectful husband, dark themes, and unhealthy relationship dynamics that should not be romanticized

Glen Magenta had always been a conniving individual since childhood. A natural born flirt who always got his way. Hell, he hardly ever heard the word no.

He was charismatic and romantic so it was easy for him to scam rich, lonely women trapped in loveless marriages. All he had to do was say pretty words and keep them company and he was able to drink the sweet nectar of their riches…

This time, he set his sights on the wife of a wealthy business tycoon named (your name). A delicate young woman with such sad eyes. She would be such easy prey… or so he thought

He introduced himself to her as Magnus Markley, a starving artist who has been utterly bewitched by her… but rather than fall instantaneously for his charms, she simply glanced at him like he was nothing. Was she not flattered by his good looks? By his sweet words and charming smile? How? She was known to be neglected by her husband in social circles.

(Your name) was the beautiful wife of Salvatore Urso. The wife Sal hardly gave any time to and yet she had no interest in an affair.

“I’m flattered, but I’m married.” Her soft voice replied to him as she showed that expensive ring that bordered on being gaudy. Magnus thought it was hideous… he never understood why the upper class had such awful taste, but at least Mister Urso had decent taste in his woman. (Your name) was going to be more difficult to catch than he thought… but he’d make the effort. After all, he enjoyed the hunt.

Glen truly committed to the character of Magnus Markley he created. He was a romantic and easily charmed (your name)’s closest friends in her social group. They were far easier to charm like his many conquests before (your name) yet she was the big fish he wanted… she would be the richest of any woman he’s seduced over the years. If Glen was able to capture her heart, he’d be set for life! He’d never have to work again… plus her husband was never around!

All Glen needed to do was work his way into her heart… even if he had to go through other women in order to do it. His greed had no bounds

Magnus was now often in the same circles (your name) ran with. She now saw him at every social gathering as he slowly wormed his way past her defenses by getting into her friend group to find out her hobbies. She enjoyed book club? He just joined to try to find inspiration for his art! She adored bird watching with the girls? Well, he was there to find an idea to paint!

Months went by into his plan. Hours of work went into his attempts to chip away at the walls around her heart and he finally made a crack… it seemed (your name) enjoyed having a genuine friend. Not that he was truly genuine.

(Your name) sat with him as they discussed books and music. Her sad face lit up warmly as she’d shyly talk of her interests. He’s never met a victim of his that was so cute.

He could see himself genuinely being with her. She was so sweet! How could someone be so sweet? Her husband was a fool for not being with her all the time!

The more he learned about her the more he began to falter with his goal. She was once a waitress at a restaurant before Sal married her? He never knew that… he had always thought she came from money since she was so prim and proper. Sal often bought her extravagant gifts? He had assumed her husband didn’t care much for her… but it seemed he did care. Sal cared far too much for his wife to the point it was terrifying.

(Your name) shared how most of her friends went missing after a while and that it was lonely, but her husband always cheered her up. That he’d take her to the best Italian restaurants each time and then he’d take her out on their balcony and make her limoncello to sip with him as they watched fireworks together.

It seemed he stumbled across a rabbit hole he should have never went down the more he learned. This young woman wasn’t a simple business tycoon’s wife… her husband was a part of the mob.

Glen couldn’t help but want to save her. She had no idea she was associated with the mob… that she was in danger!

For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to be selfish. He had enough to be able to relocate them to another country, he just had to convince her to flee… but he didn’t cover his tracks fast enough. Sal already caught wind of him.

Before he knew it, he was gagged and bound in a metal chair on the back of a ship on the sea. Cinder blocks were tied around each of his legs with heavy metal chains. Sal stood above him with a cigar in hand.

“I looked into you, Magnus or should I say… Glen.” Sal told the conman as he exhaled his cigar smoke. “Real piece of work, you are. Did you think I would let you try to take my wife?”

Glen gulped as Sal held up a pistol to him.

“I-I had no idea you cared so much for your wife-“

“Care for her?” Sal chuckled as his heavy accent dripped with venom, “I’m obsessed with her. She’s my darling wife and I’ll be damned if I let some schmuck get his greasy little fingers on her.”

Glen felt tears well up in his eyes. “Please, Sal. I’ll skip town, I’ll never talk to her again-“

“Yeah right, I found your little diary filled with love notes and your plan to convince her to run away with you.” Sal stood up with the gun still pointed. “Like hell I’d let you live. Rats like you need to be exterminated early.”

Glen felt tears roll down his face as Sal shoved the barrel into his mouth.

“Such a shame I have to get rid of another one of her friends, but she’ll be okay. I’m all amore mio needs.”

A gunshot rang out in the empty sea before a loud splash followed.

[stxrkiss]

☆⁠ ℳ𝓎 Skin † 𝔅egan 𝐭𝐨 𝕮𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖑

僕のものになったら、逃げられないよ。

# 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 : 𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℬ𝒶𝓉𝒷ℴ𝓎𝓈 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ☆

# 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 : 𝘏𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.

# 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 : 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦, 𝘋𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘥, 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦 ☆

# 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : 𝘌𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘈𝘨𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘱, 𝘐𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱-𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘖𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘒𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺, 𝘕𝘰𝘯-𝘊𝘰𝘯/𝘋𝘶𝘣-𝘊𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘎𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘔𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺, 𝘗𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘛𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘊𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘖𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳/𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘋𝘕𝘐 ⚠

# 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 : 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⠀ ㅤ𔘓⠀ㅤׄㅤ⠀ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄⠀ㅤ˳ ⠀ㅤׄ𓊘 ᅟ

𝙏𝙒: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝘼𝙜𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙥, 𝙋𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙄𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝘿𝙪𝙗𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙋𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙊𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨 ⚠

The dining room in Wayne Manor was a cathedral of candlelight, golden flames swaying in the still air, casting long shadows against the mahogany walls. The table was set for two, drowning in a sea of red—red roses, red candles, red wine swirling in delicate crystal glasses. A feast had been prepared, untouched, untouched just like you.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, his dark suit crisp, his presence swallowing the air itself. His eyes—deep, endless pools of something unreadable—never left you, drinking in the sight of you in the dress he had chosen. It was red, of course. Red, because it meant something to him. Red, because it reminded him of the first time he saw you—so small, so unaware, your laughter ringing through Gotham’s cold streets, untouched by the filth that corrupted everything.

He had been watching for so long.

Waiting.

“Come,” he murmured, his voice a gentle command.

You hesitated. Not because you wanted to disobey—there was no such thing as disobedience anymore. But because you knew, deep in your bones, that every step closer to him was another step away from yourself.

Bruce’s smile was patient. Always patient. He reached for you, taking your hand in his own, warm and steady, the grip unyielding as he guided you to the chair beside him. His touch had always been gentle, deceptively so, the way a hunter might cradle a bird with broken wings.

“You haven’t touched your wine,” he noted, swirling his own glass. The liquid stained the crystal, thick as blood. “Do you not trust me?”

A test. Every conversation with him was a test, and you had learned not to fail them.

You forced yourself to lift the glass, the rim cool against your lips as you took a small sip. The taste was rich, heavy, clinging to your tongue. He watched you, his smile deepening just enough to make your stomach twist.

“Good girl,” he praised.

It made your skin crawl.

You used to fight. Once, you used to scream at him, claw at the walls, threaten to run. But Bruce had a way of unraveling you, of peeling you apart thread by thread, until you were something small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

"Tonight is special," he said, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "Do you remember why?"

You swallowed.

His fingers found your chin, tilting your face to meet his. The way he touched you was always so careful, as if you were made of something fragile. And in a way, you were. He had made sure of that.

"I saw you for the first time on this day," he murmured. "You were just a little thing, weren’t you?" His thumb traced your bottom lip, his voice thick with nostalgia. "So lovely. So perfect. Gotham hadn’t tainted you yet."

Your stomach clenched. You wanted to pull away, but you didn’t. He wouldn’t let you.

"I was patient," Bruce continued, his tone reverent, almost dreamy. "I let you live your life. Let you believe you had freedom. But you never really did, did you?"

His grip on your chin tightened just enough to make your pulse quicken.

"I watched you grow," he whispered. "Watched you laugh, cry, learn, make mistakes. Watched the world try to sink its teeth into you." His other hand came up, fingers weaving into your hair, holding you there. "But I never let it. I kept you safe. Even when you didn’t know."

The room felt smaller, the air thick, suffocating.

"You used to be so stubborn," he mused, thumb tracing slow circles against your jaw. "You used to scream at me, tell me I was a monster." His lips quirked into something like amusement. "You really believed you could run. That you could escape me."

You felt cold, even with the heat of his hands against your skin.

"But you learned, didn't you?" His voice dipped, soft, almost soothing. "You understand now. There is no world without me. No life beyond this."

His hands slid lower, wrapping around your wrists, his touch never harsh, never violent—but unmovable.

"You belong to me," Bruce said, his breath warm against your cheek. "You always have. I just had to wait."

Wait for you to stop fighting.

Wait for you to realize there was never another choice.

His lips pressed against your temple, lingering, inhaling. His voice was barely a whisper now, a dark promise woven into the air between you.

"And now," he murmured, "you're ready."

A shiver ran down your spine.

Ready for what, you didn’t dare ask.

But the look in his eyes told you.

Bruce had waited long enough.

And there was no one left to save you.

⠀ ㅤ𔘓⠀ㅤׄㅤ⠀ 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍⠀ㅤ˳ ⠀ㅤׄ𓊘 ᅟ

𝙏����: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥-𝙎𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙆𝙞𝙙𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙮, 𝙋𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙄𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙉𝙤𝙣-𝘾𝙤𝙣/𝘿𝙪𝙗-𝘾𝙤𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝘿𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙂𝙖𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ⚠

You don’t know how long it’s been.

Time has lost its meaning in the walls of this place—no windows, no clocks, no sky to mark the passing of days. Only the dim, golden glow of the chandelier above you, flickering against the deep red wallpaper, the heavy furniture that once felt luxurious but now feels like a tomb.

You sit on the bed, the silk sheets pooling around you, and touch your stomach.

Round. Heavy. Real.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips, and before you realize it, a single tear slips down your cheek. You don’t wipe it away. There’s no point. They always come back.

The door creaks open.

Your heart clenches as his footsteps approach—calm, unhurried, as if he’s returning home after a long day.

Dick smiles as he steps into the candlelit bedroom, his blue eyes warm, bright, devoted. It would almost be comforting if you didn’t know what lay beneath—what lurked in the depths of that gaze.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

A sob catches in your throat.

Valentine’s Day.

Your mind struggles to grasp it. It can’t be. It can’t be.

Last time, when he told you it was Valentine’s, you had only just arrived. You still had hope then. You still believed your father would find you. That this nightmare would end.

But now…

Your fingers tighten against your belly. The child inside moves, shifting, stretching, alive.

“Why are you crying?” Dick asks softly, stepping forward.

You flinch when he kneels before you, his hands finding your stomach, caressing the swell with reverence. His touch is gentle, his voice dripping with honeyed adoration. But there’s something in his eyes—something unhinged, something broken.

You hate that part of him.

He presses his forehead against your belly, exhaling a slow, content sigh. “She’s growing beautifully.”

She.

You don’t even know if it’s a girl. You don’t even know if he’s telling the truth.

Dick tilts his head up, eyes locking onto yours. His smile softens, as if he pities you, as if he understands something you don’t.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” he murmurs. “You still think someone’s coming for you.”

Your throat tightens.

“I—” Your voice cracks, hoarse from disuse. You don’t remember the last time you spoke.

Dick reaches up, cupping your cheek, wiping the wetness away with his thumb. “Oh, baby. It’s been a year.”

Your breath stops.

Your ears ring.

The room spins, and suddenly you feel like you’re drowning, suffocating in the reality of it. A year.

A year since he stole you away. A year since you last saw your father. A year since Bruce—

Your lips tremble. “You’re lying.”

Dick chuckles, the sound lighthearted, as if you just said something adorable.

“I knew you’d say that,” he murmurs. He leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead, and lingers there. Too long. Too intimate. Too wrong.

“You always do this, sweetheart. Every time you hear how much time has passed, you go through the same cycle.”

You shake your head. “No, no—”

“Denial,” he whispers, his hand sliding into your hair, cradling your head like you’re something precious, something fragile. “Then panic.”

Your breathing quickens.

“Then you’ll beg me again.”

He pulls back slightly, watching you with those soft, loving, deranged eyes.

“Go on,” he urges gently. “Beg me.”

A sob escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please let me go. Please, Dick—”

His smile doesn’t waver.

He shifts, climbing onto the bed, pulling you into his arms as if comforting a distressed lover rather than a prisoner carrying his child.

His hands stroke your back, slow, soothing. Mocking.

“You know I can’t do that,” he murmurs. “I love you too much.”

You shake, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. “Please… my dad—”

Dick exhales, almost disappointed. “Bruce is dead.”

Your body seizes.

“No,” you whisper. “No, he’s not—”

“He is,” Dick insists, his voice unwavering. “He died not long after I took you. I thought about telling you, but… I knew it would break you.”

A shaky breath leaves his lips as he presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“So I waited,” he continues, his voice laced with something syrupy, sinister. “I waited for you to move on. For you to accept that I’m all you have.”

Your stomach lurches.

Dick sighs, his fingers trailing down your spine. “But you’re still fighting me.”

His grip tightens.

“But that’s okay.”

His lips graze your ear, his breath warm, his voice an eerie whisper of devotion.

“You’ll come around. You always do.”

A fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks.

Because deep down, you know he’s right.

⠀ ㅤ𔘓⠀ㅤׄㅤ⠀ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃⠀ㅤ˳ ⠀ㅤׄ𓊘 ᅟ

𝙏𝙒: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙆𝙞𝙙𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙂𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙈𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝘿𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙮, 𝙋𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙋𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙉𝙤𝙣-𝘾𝙤𝙣/𝘿𝙪𝙗-𝘾𝙤𝙣 𝙀𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙄𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙋𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ⚠

The flowers sit in a crystal vase on the bedside table, their petals a deep, velvety red—almost as red as the blood staining the sheets beneath you. The air is thick with sweetness, a mix of perfume and something darker, something metallic, something that never quite leaves no matter how much he tries to clean it up.

Jason hums softly as he dips a cloth into a bowl of warm water, wringing it out before pressing it gently to your skin.

You don’t react.

You don’t do much of anything anymore.

His touch glides over your body, slow and careful, cleaning away the remnants of the night before—the sweat, the tears, the dried blood that still lingers around the edges of the old wounds.

Where your arms used to be.

Where your legs used to be.

Jason is meticulous, making sure every inch of you is cared for. You are fragile now, more than ever. But that’s okay.

He prefers you this way.

“See, baby?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost affectionate. “I told you I’d take care of you.”

The rag slides down the remnants of your thigh, over the bandaged stumps where your legs used to be. There’s a strange sort of tenderness in the way he touches you—as if he didn’t put you in this state himself.

You don’t respond. You haven’t spoken in…

You don’t know.

There is no time here. No windows, no clocks. Just Jason.

Always Jason.

You are entirely his now. There is no escape, no running, no fighting.

Not anymore.

Jason tilts his head, watching your face carefully. His green eyes soften when he notices the blankness in yours.

“Still not talking?” he muses. His lips twitch, almost as if he finds it amusing.

He leans down, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead. It lingers.

“That’s okay,” he murmurs against your skin. “I don’t mind. I like you quiet.”

His hand cups your cheek, thumb tracing over the sharp curve of your cheekbone. You’ve grown thinner, weaker, your body unable to sustain itself the way it used to. But he feeds you.

He does everything for you now.

He lifts you from the bed with ease, cradling you in his arms as if you weigh nothing.

The world shifts as he carries you, your head lolling against his chest. His heartbeat is steady, solid, grounding you in a reality you don’t want to exist in.

The bathroom is warm, steam curling in the air, the scent of roses thick and cloying. The water in the tub is already drawn—he always prepares everything in advance.

Jason lowers you in carefully, letting the warmth envelop you.

You don’t react when he takes the cloth again, running it over your body, cleaning you like you’re something delicate, something precious.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, fingers brushing along your collarbone. “Even now.”

Even now. Even after everything he’s done.

Jason washes your hair next, his fingers massaging your scalp, his nails lightly scratching against the skin in a way that almost feels soothing. Almost.

You don’t fight when he rinses you, when he lifts you out and wraps you in a thick, soft towel. You can’t.

There is no point in fighting anymore.

Jason carries you back to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The sheets have been changed—fresh, crisp, smelling of lavender and something undeniably him.

He dresses you himself, pulling a soft, lacy white dress over your head. It’s delicate, flowy, beautiful—something meant for a bride.

Jason smiles as he smooths the fabric over your body.

“Perfect,” he murmurs.

You stare at the ceiling, unblinking.

He presses another kiss to your temple before stepping away, returning with a tray of food. You know what’s coming.

He feeds you slowly, carefully, whispering soft praises when you swallow.

“Good girl.”

“Such an angel.”

“You’re doing so well for me.”

When he’s done, he sets the tray aside and pulls you onto his lap, cradling you like a doll. His fingers trace idle patterns along your arm, his touch warm, lingering.

“Do you know what today is?” he asks, resting his chin atop your head.

You don’t answer.

His grip tightens, just barely. A warning.

Jason sighs. “It’s Valentine’s Day, baby.”

His arms wrap around you fully, pulling you impossibly close.

“Our first one together.”

You close your eyes.

He presses a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder, his lips brushing against the exposed skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice low, reverent. “More than anything.”

His hands slide down, gripping your waist, holding you in place.

“I know you don’t believe that yet,” he continues, “but you will.”

Jason smiles against your skin.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, silent, endless.

Jason kisses them away, his lips soft, tender.

“Shh,” he soothes, rocking you gently.

“You’re mine now, baby.”

“You always will be.”

⠀ ㅤ𔘓⠀ㅤׄㅤ⠀ 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄⠀ㅤ˳ ⠀ㅤׄ𓊘 ᅟ

𝙏𝙒: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙂𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝘾𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙢, 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙈𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙊𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 ⚠

Candlelight flickered, making the polished wood of the dining table gleam, casting shifting shadows against the red-stained floor. Soft music played from an old record player, a love song from another time, slow and mournful. The air was thick—warm with the scent of caramelized skin, the faint perfume of blood, the lingering remnants of life that still clung to the walls.

At the head of the table, you sat.

Your hands, your delicate hands, had been placed in your lap, folded as if in prayer, your nails still perfect, painted the shade of red he liked best. Your body—what remained of it—was dressed beautifully, wrapped in silk, your throat adorned with pearls. Your eyes were closed, lashes resting against cold skin, your lips parted slightly as if you might still whisper his name.

Damian sat across from you, his gloved fingers tapping idly against the mahogany surface, his green eyes gleaming in the dim light. He was watching you, as he always did, as he always would.

His plate was full.

Your legs—roasted to perfection—rested on a silver platter beside the fine china, the skin golden, the meat tender, glistening beneath the flickering light. He had been careful, had prepared you with the kind of precision only he was capable of, the same way he had handled a blade all his life—with love.

And this, this was love.

Damian took the knife and sliced through the meat, slow, methodical. The blade cut effortlessly, revealing the soft pink of the flesh beneath, the juices pooling as he lifted a piece onto his fork. He turned it over once, twice, admiring the texture, the way the candlelight made it shine.

Then, he ate.

The first bite was slow, measured, his eyes half-lidded as he let the taste settle on his tongue. The seasoning had been chosen carefully, meant to enhance, never to overpower. You were perfect. Of course, you were.

He swallowed, a slow exhale leaving him as he set the fork down. His fingers brushed over his mouth, dabbing away the faint trace of blood left behind. Then, he looked at you again, tilting his head slightly, a shadow of a smile forming at the corner of his lips.

“You always did say you belonged to me,” he murmured. His voice was quiet, reverent. “Now you never have to leave.”

Damian reached across the table, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, cold and smooth beneath his touch. You had been so stubborn, so resistant. Even as he tried to make you understand. Even as he whispered in your ear, again and again, that you were meant to be his.

It didn’t matter now.

You weren’t leaving. Not ever.

His hand drifted lower, fingertips pressing lightly against your collarbone, trailing over the silk fabric that covered the places where his blade had carved you apart. He had been careful—so, so careful. He had bathed you, dressed you, brushed your hair until it shone. You deserved that.

Damian took another bite, his jaw tightening slightly as the flavors settled on his tongue. There was something primal in it, something that made his pulse quicken, something that burned in the deepest part of him. This was more than just love.

This was devotion.

Possession.

He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the last bite before wiping his mouth clean. Then, slowly, he stood. The chair scraped against the floor, but you didn’t move, didn’t stir. You never would again.

Damian stepped closer, rounding the table, stopping just beside you. He crouched, reaching out to cup your cheek, tilting your face toward him.

“You’re beautiful, beloved,” he whispered.

The words were soft, affectionate.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against your cold, unmoving mouth. The kiss was slow, deliberate, lingering far longer than it should have. His breath shuddered against your skin, his gloved fingers tightening just slightly where they held you.

His.

Forever.

When he pulled back, his eyes remained locked onto your face, searching, memorizing. He didn’t want to forget, not a single moment, not a single detail.

Damian exhaled slowly, his hand sliding away from your cheek, falling to his side. He straightened, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, smoothing out the fabric of his suit. Then, with one final glance at your still, perfect form, he spoke.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

© stxrkiss ☆ don't copy, translate or use my works here or any other websites.

[lizzybeth1986]

WIP - Apology: Take Two.

(Zinnia Young - Chloë Grace Moretz

Damien/Dames - Chayenne)

What to Expect:

- Sequel to Placeholder Apology!

- It's Damien this time.

- Zinnia looking at a CAPTCHA and going "well I feel attacked now 😑"

- Takes place in Tokyo, after Zinnia and Hawthorne's (MC) Harajuku date, and then later during the week in Indonesia.

- How does Zinnia ACTUALLY feel about Dames? 🤔

Tagging @haydenyoungappreciationweek and @sazanes for HYAW Day 2: Friendships

[whalesharkstho]

these fucking guys….

[tourettesdog]

I am begging people to be normal about completed fics, and in particular one shots.

I am begging people to stop demanding more from authors, and insisting that one shots need to be longer or have sequels.

I don't think yall understand how many fanfic authors are one more "where's the rest of it?" comment away from throwing out any plans they might have had to continue an idea.

Unless an author like specifically says they might write more for an idea, just-- assume something marked as completed is complete, and respect it as it stands, please.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 4

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder and sexual assault, dark romance trope, angst, read at your own discretion

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He's ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Reminder, this story is dark. Take care of your mental health first. Sexual assault will be briefly mentioned, but it will not be written about in detail. Sukuna is diagnosed with borderline personality disorder at the end of this session. I want to make it clear that it is not my intention to offend anyone with this diagnosis or demonize this diagnosis. It is used to make him feel more real, and it furthers the plot. Hope you guys enjoy… only one last part after this one <3.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four.

The counselor hadn't had time to do any more digging into Sukuna's case files this week. It was the end of the year — holidays were coming up, and that meant that annual paperwork on all of his patients were due.

His caseload was becoming too much to manage all on his own. He was thankful that the jail was finally consulting him about hiring a social worker to help out with the workload.

Checking Sukuna's chart briefly, the counselor inhaled sharply. It was finally time to talk about the crime that landed him in prison. Sure, the counselor could drag this out. He could talk about every petty theft or assault case Sukuna had been charged with, but those were pointless to talk about in the grand scheme of things.

As if on cue, a large buzzer sounded, and Sukuna was shoved into the room with the counselor before promptly being locked inside. He was shackled as always, but his demeanor was different today.

He didn't have that calloused grin or careless attitude. He sat down on the couch with a small grunt before immediately laying his head back against the piece of furniture. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly.

It was as if Sukuna knew what the counselor was going to bring up today.

"How are you holding up this week, Sukuna?" The counselor asked. Normally, they'd skip pleasantries, but the counselor sensed that Sukuna needed some priming before he got to talking.

"How am I holding up?" Sukuna echoed with a humorless laugh before shaking his head. "Don't ask stupid fucking questions. This is a prison not a 10 hour shift at a fucking factory."

Well, so much for priming.

"You don't want to talk about her today?" The counselor asked, tapping his pen against his paper. "Or is there something you're not wanting to relive."

"I can talk about her until my lungs give out." Sukuna muttered in a pained tone. He rubbed his face with his hands, cuffs clinking around in the process. He groaned as he put his hands down. "Tell me what you think I don't want to relive." He finally demanded, turning the tables on the counselor.

The counselor widened his eyes as he was put on the spot. He immediately avoided Sukuna's lifeless glare. He was definitely testing him right now — seeing if he kept up on his homework.

"You're not afraid of reliving your own pain. You don't want to relive mouse's pain." The counselor finally muttered out, using his knowledge of Sukuna to help guide him through his analysis.

Sukuna grunted in response, and the counselor took it as approval to keep going. "You weren't there to protect her. You feel like it's a failure on your end that what happened to her happened."

Sukuna's fists clenched, and his jaw tightened, but this didn't feel like his typical anger. It wasn't directed at anyone else besides himself.

"You got there a little too late. You saw what was happening to her, and you went into a blind rage. Your normal brutal, methodical, unique style to killing your victims went out the window. He needed to die right then, didn't he?" The counselor pressed on. He kept his hands on his lap to defend himself in case he said anything that teetered the line. Though, there really was no defending himself against Sukuna's hulking figure.

"He didn't deserve to live." Sukuna's voice was a low growl. His heart was pounding against his ribcage as he was reminded of his last moments with you before he incarceration.

The prisoner suddenly reached out, and the counselor flinched far back into his seat upon reflex, but Sukuna was faster. He grabbed the counselor by his dress shirt, and he patted around on his body. "I know you record these sessions, doc. I want this next part to be off the record." He demanded as he continually searched for a recording device.

The counselor tried fighting him off, but Sukuna was still stronger while he was handcuffed. "Fine-! Here! All you had to do was ask for this part to be off the record." The counselor shouted before he threw his pen over to Sukuna.

His pen had a secret recording device hidden inside, and it was promptly cut off when Sukuna snapped the pen in half without a second thought. He then threw it at the wall, ensuring that nothing would be listening in on what he was about to say.

Sitting back in his seat, he let out another stressed sigh. His twin brother's murder was a well kept secret thanks to his skills of covering up evidence, but this was his best kept secret. It physically pained him to say the words out loud.

"Mouse wanted a normal... domestic life, and I wanted to give her whatever she asked for. I started an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop, and I worked at a bike shop on the side so she could focus on figuring out what she wanted to do with life." He started off slowly. The counselor was still rattled from their physical altercation, but he was already enthralled by Sukuna's story telling abilities.

"I didn't care what I did as long as I got to be in her life. Coming home after sixteen hour shifts felt like paradise when I got to slide into bed next to her. She was the only piece of heaven that I'll ever see." Sukuna went on. His eyes were aimed at the broken pen in the corner, fully reliving what it was like to just be yours.

"Your tattoos... those came from your apprenticeship?" The counselor asked, finally taking the time to ask about the markings that covered Sukuna's body and face.

The prisoner looked at his arms and shook his head. "No, these came from over the years." He said as he slowly rose from the chair. He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and shoved it down around his waist to reveal a white undershirt that covered his broad, muscular torso.

Sukuna clearly had nothing else better to do other than work out while he was incarcerated.

The marking covered his neck, shoulders, arms, back, and chest. The counselor marveled at them for a minute, wondering how long Sukuna had to sit in a chair for all of them to be completed.

"As a gift for finishing my apprenticeship, Mouse and I got tattoos together." Sukuna explained before he raised his undershirt up. Right there on his right ribcage — a detailed portrait style tattoo of just your eyes stared back at the counselor.

Your eyes alone could tell a million words. They were gates directly to your soul. The counselor didn't know what you looked like. Your face had been scrubbed from every news outlet that reported on Sukuna's case, and the counselor couldn't remember if he saw your face in court or not.

"Does she have your eyes tattooed as well?" The counselor asked. It was the safer option because he was sure that Sukuna would probably kill him if he complimented your eyes.

"She had this-" he gestured to the tattoo that was placed on his forehead directly between his eyes, "tattooed on her back, and I tattooed my name across her ribcage in the same place I have her eyes tattooed." Sukuna explained before he redressed himself and sat back down.

"She also has a tiny mouse tattooed behind her ear. All of her work is done by me." He explained.

"Wait- You didn't come up with mouse on the spot?" The counselor asked. "That nickname actually has any meaning?"

Sukuna snickered from the counselor's assumptions. "Nah. When we were little and she wasn't talking to me yet, I use to tease her and say she was as quiet as a church mouse."

The counselor gave a small laugh, and he allowed for the silence to fill the room once more, signaling that Sukuna should get back on topic.

"I was working late most nights, and I told her it'd be worth it once I started making some real money. I just wanted to give her the life she never had. I could've provided her with peace." Sukuna explained, his eyes going back dull as all the fun was sucked right back out of the conversation.

"One night, she wanted to surprise me with my favorite dinner. I always told her not to go out alone at night. She usually waited for me to get off work if she needed to go to the store, but I guess she was worried about burdening me... foolish girl." He muttered as he stared down at his palms.

The counselor swallowed harshly, knowing what was coming next. He normally wasn't so emotionally invested in his client's lives, but Sukuna had a way of drawing him in. He was rooting for you even if he knew the result of what happened that night.

"She wasn't stupid though. Mouse was resourceful. She had a heart of gold, but she wasn't naive. She took one of my blade's with her, and she concealed it in her purse." Sukuna explained as his hands picked at the unhealed scabs on his knuckles once again.

"You don't have to go into detail. I'm honestly not sure if I could stomach that-" The counselor admitted. He knew it was unprofessional. He was supposed to be able to shoulder his clients' trauma, but he just didn't know if he could live with Sukuna's version of what happened to you.

"On her way home, that fucking... coward grabbed her. I don't- I don't know how far he got. She wouldn't tell me. I don't know if it was more for my sake or for hers." A shaky breath left his lips. He was grinding his teeth so hard that the counselor was even cringing.

"She managed to send me her location, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I just left the shop — didn't bother locking up or even telling my client where I was going. By the time I got there, my little mouse's clothes were ripped. She was a mess. He was laid out on the ground. The motherfucker died from a few stab wounds, how fucking pathetic."

"What." The counselor said as his jaw dropped. All this time, he was told that Sukuna was only caught because he killed your assailant in a crime of passion, but that wasn't the truth. He had never been baffled like this for his entire career.

"Mouse isn't some defenseless damsel in distress. You think I'd let her walk around if I hadn't taught her self defense?" Sukuna asked as he looked up at the counselor. His jaw was tight and his gaze was narrow. "I'd be damned if I let her walk around without anyway to defend herself after the shit that went down with her dad and his temper."

The counselor stayed silent. Everything he had thought about Sukuna's final murder had been a lie. He didn't kill the poor bastard out of a crime of passion. You had killed your attacker, and Sukuna took the fall for it.

Everything he had done thus far was to protect you — all of it. It was all for you.

"How did any of this end up pinned on you?" The counselor carefully asked while he was still trying to wrack his brain. A part of him wondered if Sukuna was lying, but there was no way Sukuna would lie and risk you getting into trouble for a crime that he committed.

"I have been involved in the justice system for so long. I know how crooked everything is. The district attorneys and judges aren't trying cases fairly and protecting the balance of the justice system. They're doing whatever they can to appease the politicians who have them in their back pockets. They'll sentence a serial rapist to 25 years in jail, but they'll sentence a woman defending herself from a rapist to life in jail. There's no justice in this system."

"I wasn't going to let that shit happen to mouse. I wasn't going to let her name be ruined because she defended herself and did what she had to do. I wasn't going to let her trauma be drug through court. She has so much ahead of her, and I-" Sukuna paused to take a ragged breath. It had been a long time since he had spewed out words so fast.

This was the first time he had ever been able to talk about this to anyone. Everyone fully believes that Sukuna happened to catch the guy assaulting you, and he killed him right then and there. No one knew that he hadn't been there to protect you. You had to resort to protecting yourself, and he fucking loathed the thought of you having to bear the weight of that sick son of a bitch's death on your shoulders.

For two years, he carried this weight around. It had been two years since he was sentenced. Two years since he last saw you.

He let a tear slip past his cheek. Just one -- he didn't bother to wipe it away. It was gone as soon as it had appeared.

"Take your time." The counselor murmured empathetically. This was a major break through with Sukuna. It was something that proved he wasn't a sociopath.

Sukuna could feel emotions. Perhaps, he felt them more than everyone else did. His anger was immediately rage. He was never just sad. Instead, he'd plummet into an unbeatable depression. His happiness felt like pure euphoria, and when he loved, he loved unconditionally hard.

He used you as an anchor for his tidal waves of emotions, basing them on how you acted — the girl who didn't speak and wore a mask around other people. You two were truly made for each other.

If soulmates existed, you two would be the leading example.

Sukuna took another ragged breath, taking just another second to collect his thoughts. "She has so much ahead of her, and I only had her." He managed to grit out.

"Before she could even think about trying to stop me, I ripped the gloves off that I had been using to tattoo my client. I grabbed the blade from her, and I stabbed him 32 times. I brutalized his body to make sure neither the coroner nor the forensic pathologist would be able to distinguish her stab wounds from my own." He explained solemnly. His eyes were void of any emotion while talking about what he did to your assaulter.

"The police were looking for anything to pin on me anyways. They always had thought I got off easy on my juvenile cases, and they suspected I had something to do with Jin's disappearance. They just couldn't prove anything. So, when this opportunity fell into their lap, they ran with it."

"Why didn't you try to hide the body to get away with it?" The counselor asked. Sukuna's crimes were those of cold calculation, and the fact that he made sure to strip off his gloves to taint the blade with his fingerprints proved that he was still very calculated with this murder as well.

"When he grabbed her-" Sukuna's fists tightened in his lap, "he pulled her into dark alleyway at the end of town. Bastard just thought he was going to assault her and leave her stranded in the alley- There was no way for me to move his body without being seen or caught on camera."

"I didn't try to argue when they came for me the next day. I would've willingly surrendered myself if it kept mouse out of trouble. They booked me into the county jail within hours, and I took a plea deal on my second court appearance." He explained as was back to picking at the scabs on his knuckles. They were likely never going to heal if he kept picking at them, making them bleed.

"Why didn't you go for a trial?" The counselor asked. There were ways for Sukuna to be proven not guilty. He probably would've qualified for at least a lesser charge of second degree murder or even manslaughter.

"I knew they'd try to subpoena mouse to testify. They'd drag up her trauma and make a spectacle of her in court. I wasn't going to let them try to convince her that what happened to her wasn't anything less than assault, and I wasn't going to let them retraumatize her." Sukuna spoke firmly, shaking his head.

The counselor honestly found it admirable of him. Most "Bonnie and Clyde" killers would actually turn on each other to get themselves out of trouble, but Sukuna would bear the weight of your crime on his shoulders, and he'd still find other ways to protect you from any negative consequence that he could.

"So, I took a plea deal. I plead guilty to the murder and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole with weekly 20-minute counseling sessions. In exchange, the district attorney made sure mouse's name was scrubbed from every court document, social media outlet, and news source. They had to act like she was in the witness protection program." Sukuna explained with a sigh. It was another way to protect you.

The counselor felt strangely empty. Sukuna's and your story was tragic. A boy who fell madly in love with a silent girl and vowed to protect her from anything. Did he belong in prison for this? Does this excuse him killing your dad? Did this excuse him slaughtering his own flesh and blood? How do they move on from here?

"You were a sensation in court... had your own little fanbase and everything." The counselor hollowly mused, remembering the young women that piled into the courtroom to catch a glimpse of Sukuna. They had idolized him for what he had done. Plus... he was handsome in the most sinful way possible.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue with annoyance. "The same bitches who praised me for what I had done didn't respect what I was trying to protect. They're always trying to find and leak mouse's name to the public. They don't give a fuck about me or her. They just think our story is perfect for some shitty dark romance novel."

The room fell into a tense silence once more. Neither of the two men knew how to move on from this.

The silence was finally broken with a correctional officer's voice booming through the office. "Ryomen! Your time is up!" He shouted as his fist connected against the door multiple times.

The counselor sighed as Sukuna wordlessly rose from his seat. This session had been worse than either of them could've predicted. "Take care, Sukuna. We will not meet again next week due to the holidays, but I'll see you in two weeks."

The prisoner grunted in response while still walking towards the door. The loud buzzer filled the room once more, and he was let out.

It didn't feel right to watch Sukuna walk back to his pod. The justice system had failed you as a woman, but he was willing to shield you from any harm that threatened to come your way.

𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜: 𝚁𝚂

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟼

𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝟹𝟶𝟷.𝟾𝟹 (𝙵𝟼𝟶.𝟹) 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚂𝙼-𝟻)

𝚂𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚜: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳], 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳]

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗.

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[nemesyaaa]

buffalo'66 au ! old!serial killer! rafe x young!sugardoll!reader

warnings : daddy issues/kink. slight of rafe having a god complex. smut. sick love/obssession/behavior. age gap. size kink. gunplay. spit. mean!dark!rafe. mentions of kidnapping/murdering. dark content. be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i think a lot about rafe having a god complex. and the way it could fix him to have a girl who cherish him and love him like he's just the only one. as the same i think a lot of rafe being a cult!leader with a sweet lamb. anyways, enjoy !

you knew you weren't allowed to touch his gun, but you couldn't pretend that the forbidden rules didn't excite you either. the proof being that you were still with rafe even though he had kidnapped you. you had found the glock in the drawer, and now you were having fun with it to the point where you hadn't heard your jailer come home. you were too captivated by the handgun to pay attention to that.

“ will you teach me how to shoot ? ” you asked in a soft tone.

“ obviously not. but i can swear to you that if you don't put the gun right in my hand in a second, i will show you how i use it. especially on a little tiny thing like you. now stop playing and give it to me, sugardoll. i already told you to not get on my nerves. ”

“ are you a serial killer or something ? ” you said to him, not aware about his job.

“ no obviously, i'm a babysitter. see ? how well i care about little silly girls ? ” he answered with the most sarcastic tone. “ i think you already know what i am, but you like playing dumb. because you're desperate for my attention. you need me to explain things, to satisfy your need of validation. that's right ? ”

he moved from his place, and placed himself behind you, your small body caged against his bigger size. you could feel all the pressure of his strength on you, and you started to shiver when his breath came near to your ears.

“ since you want to play with daddy's gun so bad, i'm willing to give you what you want. ”

“ no, i don't want to play anymore ! ”

“ oh i'm afraid to tell it's too easy like that, sugar. the game doesn't stop when you decide. the game stops when i’m done playing. got it ? nod your head if you got it.”

you really started to be his doll, accepting to nod whenever he wants, to use you whenever he feels the need, to move whenever he decides. when you nodded your head, giving him a little look, he grabbed the gun.

“ you will kill me ? don't, i can be good ! ”

“ you can ? no, you will. choose your words better, sugardoll. why are you crying right now ? the worse it yet to come actually. now, open that pretty mouth of yours. ”

you refused, shaking your head. you were terrified that he would kill you.

“ i said open it. if i have to repeat it, i swear that i will snap dry this gun further in your cunt, and everytime a sound will come out your mouth, pushing it deeper inside. do you understand me ? now, don't you want to be a baby sugardoll, full of kindness and sweetness ? show me how sweet and pretty you are for me. and listen to me. ”

with tears on your cheeks, you slowly opened your mouth. you could feel rafe’s smile against your neck. you were so submissive, the perfect victim. he had chosen you well the day he saw you. like a true serial killer, he never missed his prey.

“ this is why you call me sugardoll ? ”

“ see ? i'm good enough to give you a nickname. ”

it was sick but you smiled, you felt like you were special in his eyes. maybe rafe had a collection of little dolls but you felt unique.

“ don't kill me. i'm begging you. ”

“ fuck, you don't know how hard you make me when you're desperate like that. but trust me, i will make you see soon how good you make me feel. it will be your reward for being this sweet for me, sugardoll.”

he spread your legs, holding them wide with his strong hand covering your trembling thigh while his other hand brought the front of the gun down onto your skin. passing the coldness of steel across your tummy, while you shivered at the thought of dying. when he got to your underwear. you had heard his smirk.

"oh sure, you don't want to die. you want to be fucked. it's so wet here, i could stick the gun in without even preparing you, it would slide off so easily.” his mocked tone made you yelp.

“ i'm not controlling myself ! ”

“ and you don't need too. let me take care of you. keep your mouth open. i will put my gun in. ”

“ i can't do this ! it seems very dangerous…”

“ then suck it well, sugar. especially, if you don't want me to empty the gun on your gorgeous throat. ” he warned you, while pressing his lips on your neck. it was not a kiss, but you were so soft for this little touch. you wanted to please him, to see him proud of you.

he rushed the pistol between your wet plump lips, and you almost choked on it. “ be careful, doll, daddy's gun it's loaded. ” he said with a smile that made your tears even saltier.

while you had started to do your job, his fingers were lightly pressed on the surface, fiddled with the trigger. he loved seeing your petrified eyes, he loved feeling your blood freeze inside your veins, the way you resembled a frightened and helpless animal. you were defenseless and he had no limits.

you lapped at the cold metal at first, your tongue rolling over the barrel, swirling like a needy pet, and licking every bit of the object. you didn't waste anything, moistening the weapon with your own spit, some trails dripped down your tits. rafe had pushed the gun farther, almost into your throat. you choked, a trail of saliva raining over your jaw.

there was nothing amusing about it, but he found it fun. you sucked like your life depended on it even though let's be honest, it did. you moved back and forth quickly, rushed every movement with a softly sloppy gasp. he loved, no he adored the view of your ruined face and your mouth stuffed by the cold weapon. your great job made his dick painfully hard. you could feel the gun under your tongue, and the way it abused you. you drooled, a batch of saliva engulfing one side of the charger.

“ slow down, sugardoll, you're about to melt. ”

you felt dirty for being turned on by something so humiliating, the way you were pathetic for every single thing he introduced you to. it was as if he knew what you wanted, and how to exploit it. he could destroy you as well as shape you. you were nothing but the doll he wanted to play with. he knew more than anyone how to make you feel good. he knew well how to play with his toys.

you were killing him slowly with the way you were going about it, your pink tongue tickling the barrel, your mouth swallowing the entirety of his gun. every inch moved in and out of your parted lips. you lost count of the number of times you almost choked to the point you could throw up, you did your best.

the cold air of the room hit the soaked fabric of your underwear. it had gotten so wet down there.

you tried to focus on this dangerous game but you saw his bulge growing, his crotch distorting his pants.

“ keep sucking, i'm not done. ”

“ but ..."

he ignored you and took off his pants and boxers, freeing his hard cock. the next minute he was inside you, completely buried to the point where you could feel him all the way to your stomach. you salivated on the handgun, making a rain all over it.

as he filled you up, his thick cock abusing your tight pussy, the position was totally different, you were lying there, still the gun in your mouth, but now he was fucking you. his eyes were on you, and you could feel that motivating him even more to pounded you. your juices pooled on the surface the deeper he went. the slobber gathered around the metal. he rushed away your tears with his thumb.

“ stop whining, sugardoll. you can't cry when daddy takes you so well. ”

you really wanted to listen to him but it was too much for you. you were full of tears and they constantly wanted to come out, even when you felt good. but it was like the more you cried, the more he bullied your pussy, and by that, giving you more reasons to whine.

“ jesus, i'm pretty sure that you really like that gun in your mouth. ” he said with a firm thrust that made you squirm, your eyes wettering as the sentence. “ you like being this pathetic ? don't worry, i got you, i'm not judging you, but don't mind if i take advantage of it ? of course, you don't mind. you love being this sick, you're just a needy freak. ”

he pulled out before putting it back in you, inched himself deeper and deeper, letting you breathless. he was more rough this time, his fat length stretching you wider. his hips slammed your skin, his sweaty balls slapping you in motion. you nodded your head, your loud moans echoed in the empty room. his heavy hand on your tiny throat, pressuring it every time your walls tighten him.

his big other hand squeezing your small waist, as your core wrapped him harder. “ see ? daddy's making you a new home, right now. ”

his breath was heavy and short, the sweat of his body pressed against yours, while you were about to explode, so close to the orgasm. you were crying even more. and he covered your mouth with his large palm. he hitted the right spot again and again, without a break. you reached the second orgasm quickly, and you waited for him to explode at his turn. but he was taking his time on purpose. he obviously liked to abuse this little cunt of yours, wrecking like it was nothing your cervix. he glared at your glistening eyes with a proud face, while hurting your sloppy cunt. “ be patient, sugar. it's a matter of time but daddy will make you melt, and you will make a big mess on his dick to show how grateful you are ? ”

you didn’t answered, even when he released your mouth from his hands, because of the overheating.

“ you better answer because i can go to the next round. ”

“ yes .. yes !! ”

“ you're so naive, sugar. trusting me this easy, it's your own fault if old men like me use you. like did you really think we will not go on another round ? i'm about to make you dumb. not only your brain, your pussy, all of you. after this, you will not be able to think, to talk and even to walk. ”

your tears made him cum, and you let out a noisy and desperate whimper. “ it's sad for you that i'm the only god you can pray for, because i'm going to ignore all your prayers, making you on your knees every time for nothing more than my own good. sweet lamb, i'm such an uncaring god. but you can't hate on me, even a little, such a pretty precious thing you are. ”

“ why ? ” was the only word that came out of your mouth.

in fact, you were a little sad about this, because you wished that he cared a bit, even an hint about you.

“ nobody deserve you like i do. nobody deserve to touch you, or put an eyes on you, no one. you're just mine, and i need you to understand that clearly. do you got it ? do you even understand what i mean ? i will never let someone have you. never. ”

“ i really love you. ”

“ not only you love me, sugardoll. you adore me, you cherish me, you can't breath without me. do you understand ? how trapped i made you.”

“ bu…”

“ quit crying. you wanted this, you begged for. ”

“ i thought you only wanted to kill me ! ”

“if i wanted to kill you, it would already be done. i don't mind having blood in my hands, i'm a killer after all. but yours, i promise, i would never dream of, sugardoll. ”

it was very sick. but his words made you smile.

“ i want to hug you ! ”

“ don't make me regret my words. i still can choke you to death. ”

“ can i ask a question ? ”

“ jesus, if you don't yap more than a thousandth time each day, you're dead or what ? i swear, tell me your question, but choose it carefully because it will be the last. so, use your dumby brain very well. ”

“ i just wanted to know…if it's the first time you do this with one of your victims ? ”

“ why do you want to know ? ”

“ you need to answer ! ”

“ and you need to mind your own business. ”

“ i asked you a question ! it's not fair if you don't answer it ? ”

“ you better not try to raise your voice at me because i can shout, and trust me, the tears i will bring in your face will not be that pretty. ”

“ you're still mean to me…nothing has changed. ”

“ and you're still annoying. yes, nothing has changed.”

and you smiled at him, your sweet eyes melted on his unhichanged look.

“ someday i know you will love me too ! ”

“ bold to have faith, better to work on it, sugardoll. ”

you gave him a sweet look, even if he was grumpy, you wanted him.

[faunandfloraas]

Honestly I think a lot of people who have never made a gif for tumblr don't get that it does actually take time and effort, its not just rip it from a video and post it- you have to download the video, in my case I have a video player installed that grabs continuous caps, figure out what parts you need, you have to open those in photoshop or gimp, depending on where you got photoshop you might be paying for it every month and then on top of that is actually sizing, cropping, colouring, sharpening, adding text, etc. etc. like it is something that takes time and effort for which the only real reward is creating something that makes you happy and hopefully people reblog it with a nice or funny tag, so maybe keep that in mind the next time you think gif makers are being mean or unfair for being upset about reposts. It is its own little artform that is fairly unique to this website, and that's a big aspect of why I have always loved tumblr, if all the gifmakers stopped posting things would be a lot more boring around here.

[pacofprunes]

cotton candy grapes

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.

the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.

“where are you going?”

nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.

“none of your business.”

he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.

“hello señorita.”

you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.

“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”

he points to the other side where you see a group of people.

“uh, no thank you.”

“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, am a great ally.”

you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.

“you killed all those people.“

he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.

“did i?”

“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”

he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.

“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”

he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.

“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”

he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.

“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”

he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.

you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.

“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”

you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.

“you fucking bitch.”

he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.

“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”

he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.

“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”

he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.

“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”