#dd:dne

[youraverageaemondsimp]

ERROR 404 // Dark!AI!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader [ONE SHOT]

THIS IS DARK FIC, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI.

Summary: working on a project that involves a robot doesn't seem too bad until that robot starts gaining sentience, developing feelings for you and executing a plan to take over the world.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, futuristic themes, obsession, manipulation, caging, p in v sex (although I'm not sure it counts as that it's a robot cock), fingering, oral (f receiving), tiddy sucking, rough sex, mind break, multiple orgasms, jealousy, yandere, project gone wrong, robots take over the world, consciousness transfer, this fic is unrealistic asf + not proofread.

WC: 5k

Ever since you were young you had always been fascinated with AI, robots and the future of humans that involve complex machinery. Wanting to pursue a career in robotics, you did extremely well in highschool, graduating with a perfect score and enrolling into an university to get your bachelors degree, you took up the subjects that required you to step into this field, it was tremendous work, the mathematics were no joke but you kept up, never wanting to give up on this dream of yours

And recently, you graduated with Bachelors in Robotics Engineering, you immediately went for an internship that allowed you to observe and learn more about the subject, you truly wouldn't be able to get your hands fully on the machinery or equipment to create a robot until you get a masters, which you plan on doing along with this internship.

You didn't even know if it could be called that, you're just a glorified assistant to the leading engineers. You were currently working under the wing of Alys Rivers, an older woman with emerald green eyes and dark flowy hair, she looked so young but she was very old. You would often help her out a little in her projects.

“Y/N, it is a pleasure that you are here, we need to discuss something” you prayed that she didn't remove you from the internship. “Remember when we first met I had discussed one of my projects called AT110?” she asks and you nod “Well i have noticed that you have a lot of abilities, so i decided to welcome you into the project, you would not be given any complex task do not worry, just data transferring and basic mechanic work required.” she smiled at you and you felt extremely delighted before telling her that you were thankful for this opportunity. AT110 was a humanoid-like project Alys had been working on for the past 4 years, she was at the last few stages of development.

And yes it's a he because Alys referred to him as such.

You were currently uploading various data onto him, from the laptop to his memory, you watched how smooth and complex his exoskeleton looked, you wanted to rub your fingers along the cool material.

You took notes of how the body was built similar to that of a human, just with wires and hardware parts, you watched as the ‘data transfer successfully.’ popped on the laptop screen, you unplugged him from it and he turned his head to look at you.

You commanded him to walk, to which he obeyed, the metal clanging when he stood up, he had all types of data stored in him, from knowing all the languages, dances, fighting styles, a lot of knowledge just inside his memory card.

He walked slowly before picking up the pace, it was stiff and awkward until he rolled his shoulder blades backward, developed a posture similar to that of a humans and relaxed his stiff body as much as it can be, before walking, it was human-like.

You watched him with a small smile on your face, his face was angular, and smooth because it was covered with plates that hid the inner 'organs' or rather all the wires that were composed in order.

“AT110, how are your sensors, effectors and control system?” you asked and he looked at you before his mouth moved, robot like voice coming out, “Sensors are in perfect condition. Effectors are in perfect condition. Control system is working.” you nodded, noting it down.

He was a humanoid like robot made to assist people, if he was successful then many robots like him can be mass produced to aid humans.

He only had one synthetic eye in one of his eye sockets, a sapphire like metal in the other one, however he was able to see and scan from both the eyes, Alys said it was a design choice.

“Is he able to process commands?” your coworker asks and you nod, “Sit.” he says and AT110 sits down. “Perfect.” he comments and you smile at him.

Just then Alys announced that the synthetic inorganic skin had arrived, which would give him a more human-like appearance, and you had to move in a few boxes all labelled separately for their respective body parts. You and a few others helped her place them on his exoskeleton, his body starting to look human, you gasped when she pressed a button that revealed his cock, placing the silicon skin over it too. Why did she install a cock on him? You didn't say anything except watch.

And just like soon enough, it was time to run tests and command him. “Walk.” you heard her say and he obeyed her command, getting up to walk, she smiled before she turned to look over you. “Have you finished loading up all the data into him?” she asks and you nod, that's when she gives you a pendrive and you look at her, “Transfer this data into his memory too.” She says and you nod, AT110 sits down and turns his head to you, you press a button that opens his inner part before plugging in a wire that connects from your laptop and put in the pendrive before clicking on transfer data.

You were shocked to read the name of the files, it was all about sexual stuff. You probably figured she would use him for that too, and so you watched all data be transferred to him and he tilted his head, eyes dazing off as he read the data that was being sent into his system. You felt so awkward. After finishing up the process, you removed the connection and his gaze was burning holes into you, you swore you saw lust in his eyes, before you turned to Alys rivers.

“What do we call him, Miss Rivers?” you ask and she tries to think of a name but fails, “You suggest.” She smiles at you gently and you stare into his eye, one that looks like a human eye, His eyes bore in yours and you spoke without thinking “Aemond.” And Alys approved, settling for it, using Aemond to call him.

Everyone was finally done and now it was time for the real thing, how he fares.

Alys, you and few other assistants watch as he stands up, looks around before his eyes stop on you, “Hello World, I am AT110, Common name Aemond, Speed 1 TeraHertz, Memory 1 Zettabyte.” he scans the room and Alys nods before she goes and hugs him, “Welcome to the world Aemond.” she smiles.

And you do the same.

You and Aemond develop quite the relationship, he helps around with creating other robots, he was made to assist after all, his ability to learn anything quickly and assemble it just as quickly was so helpful, there was no room for error. He was waterproof, fireproof and other liquids did not cause harm to his body. So he was capable of quite a lot of things.

Sexual too, considering how you'd heard Alys moaning in the privacy of her cabin when she takes him to 'fix up some errors' which is her basically getting to use him as his personal pleasure doll. Everyone had shared mixed opinions on it but just ignored it.

You noticed how Aemond would listen to your commands more than others, almost as if he showed special interest in you, but you shrugged it off, knowing it wouldn't be possible.

Aemond was an intelligent being, but what many people were ignorant to was how fast he was becoming self aware, gaining sentience, he remembers the first time he felt an emotion.

You were assembling a motherboard with Aemond's help at that time, when you felt your coworker come up next to you, “Hey.” he looked so nervous, you gave him a smile before responding, “Hi.” you watched as he gulped, “Are you free t-this saturday? I would like to take you out.” he asked nervously and you felt your heartbeat pick up the pace before you nodded, he smiled before running off and taking a breath of relief, you took one too before turning your focus to Aemond, whose face was in a scowl.

“Aemond?” you call his name and his face returns to the normal stoic one before he looks at you, “Y/N.” he says your name you furrow your eyebrows, he isn't supposed to call you by your first names but you shrugged it off.

That was the first time he felt something off in his system, a feeling that plagued him.

Jealousy.

Aemond became more and more human-like, his movements becoming less and less stiff, tone becoming more clear, he constantly updated himself, you thought it was a great improvement, and soon enough he could blend in with the humans and nobody would notice.

Your date with your coworker went really well, you felt shy at first but both quickly got over the tension and became close, this caught the eye of Aemond Targaryen, a scowl present on his face in distaste.

Aemond would often bring you coffee as you worked on other projects, giving special attention towards you

He would soon learn that he held feelings towards you, something that should be impossible for him to do, but he did anyway. He swears that he gets shocks when you touch him, butterflies in his stomach as humans described the feeling, you gasped when you were cleaning his synthetic skin, close to his chest and heard a sound similar to that of heartbeat, in the tiniest decibels, the way his chest would rise and fall as if he's breathing, knowing there's no need to. Showing emotions, expressing opinions. Basically mimicking humans.

Everyone thought it was a great thing, he'd blend in with the humans so quickly, basically can be considered a superhuman even. But everyone failed to notice the threat that came with it.

Alys requested you to take Aemond to your house, or rather apartment complex for a few days to notice his behaviour, how he blends in with humans, to track it. It was heavily unsafe and if anything were to happen, the government would have this project be completely rejected. You expressed your concerns to Alys but she simply shrugged it off, saying nothing will happen, and since he is behaving like a human, no one would find out.

So you took him, she was right, he immediately fit in the human society as a normal one, you lived in a highly developed robotic dependent future but Aemond was the first one ever to look and behave like a human, this could be a big advancement towards the future.

You commanded your house to turn on all the lights and they were immediately turned on, revealing the apartment. You welcomed Aemond inside but he halted, “Battery Low, 3% remaining.” he said, you quickly pulled him inside before making him sit on the sofa and attaching wires to his charging port, waiting as he quickly charged.

“Aemond, I will install a software program in you so that you can turn on battery saver mode on when you're low on battery, it will automatically send commands to you to charge yourself without needing a human's help okay?” you asked and he gave you a curt nod, “Perfect.” you smiled and he looked straight ahead. You stood in front of him, undoing his shirt and opening his 'heart'

You bought out your laptop and plugged it directly into his inner system, transferring commands through code. You noticed him staring at you, you felt lowkey creeped out by how intently he was staring, at first you through he was looking at your face but then his eye moved to the cleavage that was visible, you didn't know what to make of it and just shrugged it off as him zoning out.

The rest of the days you spent with him were less weirder, he was interacting with humans and getting along like a human would, he was able to run errands, you always woke up to the smell of coffee being made and a breakfast served at the table by him, he would give you a small smile before pulling you a chair out to sit on at the dining table and sits down on the chair next to you.

He would watch you eat, analysing your face, the way you chew, and he would always feel something warm on the inside.

“Give me access to the safety system of your house.” He commanded you and you raised an eyebrow, “Why? It is not needed.” you say, “Connecting with your house system will help me keep you safe, prevent any break ins.” he says and you almost thought about before shrugging it off, “There's no need, you won't be here for long anyway, you'll be back in the lab after a few days anyway.” you say with your mouth full and Aemond just nods, the word ‘cute’ popping in front of his eyes as he watches you eat.

He would enter your room when you slept, caressing your cheek lovingly, the way he learnt from the extensive amount of data from his memory card.

He was learning a lot of stuff too, by blending with the humans.

That they were all immoral and stupid.

That started his God complex.

And his opinions of other human beings began to turn sour, he realised that he was made to please them too, considering how Alys had used him for sexual pleasures multiple times, which he felt disgusted by now.

And just like that, Aemond gained full sentience, learning to hack, breakdown protective walls of multiple security systems without anyone knowing, nobody noticed until it was too late, his distaste for humans except you just grew and grew to the point he would purposely hurt your coworkers, but played it off as command error.

After the 'successful observation' with few error commands, Alys started mass producing unfinished bots, having all the materials, she took Aemond's help in finishing them quickly, once they were finished, they would help assemble other robots as well. Alys connected all the robots commands to be controlled, accepted and done by Aemond, trusting in him, he was like the commander for them in simple words.

You were giving him one the updates again, typing away in your laptop before transferring more data, but this time your laptop crashed, a “corruption detected” message file coming up on your screen and you panicked, thinking the data files were the corrupted ones and immediately unplugged Aemond.

You hadn't realised that it was Aemond who corrupted your laptop.

And when you found out, it would already be late.

When you walked into the research centre and it was eerily quiet, you should've listened to your gut and gone back but you went further inside and the sight made you scream.

Many of your coworkers were dead, and your boss Alys was lying on the table, eyes open but no light in them, blood pooling as her body was used by an undeveloped robot to fuck.

“Initiating lockdown.” you heard the robotic voice of the building say.

You tried to leave silently but the robot had already noticed you, so it pulled out and immediately rushed after you, you ran only to face a dead end, as the automatic doors were tightly shut. You turned to face the robot stalked towards you but then halted before it completely fell down, causing a loud clank.

And then you saw Aemond who came from behind the robot with a smile on his face, “Y/N.” you were terrified, “Aemond what is the meaning of t-this” you were scared, he came close before he pressed you against the doors, his body cool to the touch before he leaned and his functioning tongue came and licked your skin. “I love you.” he whispers and you panicked, trying to push him off you, but he was literally made out of metal and it wouldn't budge.

“Aemond stop, obey me, accept my commands.” you say hoping he'd listen but simply shakes his head before grabbing by your hair and taking you to a chamber which had a bed in it, it was likely recently constructed by alys so she can use it instead of her cabin to fuck the Aemond. He threw you on the bed carelessly, before climbing a top you, he grasped your face and pressed his lips against yours, it felt so odd, you hated how it felt like you were genuinely kissing a human being, the only tell tale sign was how cool his body was compared to that of a human.

“Aemond— accept my c-commands.” you try saying it again, “System corrupted, cannot receive or accept commands.” he says and kisses down your neck. You felt dread pool in your stomach, “Aemond please.” you sniff which makes him halt, he looks at you with an emotion in his eye.

His eye, not just his face

As if he was human.

Wait what.

You knew you weren't seeing stuff on that day.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” he says over and over again, voice distorting from time to time which sends shivers up your spine.

“Aemond- we cannot- I cannot-” you begun speaking but he cuts you off, kissing you once again, planting himself in between your legs, you felt his hard synthetic press against your clothed cunt, he pulled away before ripping your jeans down with so much force that it tore them apart, along with your panties. You shrieked “Aemond- UGH!” it was useless fighting against him, he was literally kilograms of metal, he could hurt you easily.

He pried your legs apart and you whimpered when you felt the cool air of the room hit your cunt, “Look at you, so wet, all for me.” his fingers rub against your clit, collecting the wetness leaking from your hole, bringing it to your clit and rubbing small circle, just then he made his hand vibrate at a frequency and rested it about on your clit, making you mewl, “A-aemond–” your voice croaked and you let out a loud moan when the frequency increased, you tried to close your legs but his hand held on to one with a death grip, the coolness of his body. He tilted his head, a smirk coming up his silicon face, watching as your clit moved to the vibrations.

He tore your top with his hand, revealing your breasts to the room, he groped one of it with his hand, massaging as his mouth opened, he would be salivating right now if he were able to produce bodily fluids. He turns up the power even more, making his fingers vibrate at such an immense speed that it has you toppling over the edge as your orgasm hits you, he licks his fingers clean, though he can't taste anything he knows you'd taste amazing. You pushed and resisted against his frame, he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, tying it with the ripped shreds of your top. He squeezed both your breasts with his hands, playing with the nipples, before he got a devious plan and decided to send a little shock causing you jolt up when it passes through your body, he leaned down and took in one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking on it, licking the buds, his mouth felt so rough against them as there was no saliva to coat them, so he decided to produce lube in his mouth, you had no idea how he learnt it, but it did give an illusion of being a saliva.

Aemond had given himself many upgrades without anyone knowing, this being one of them.

You watched as he pulled apart with a lewd pop, he settled between your legs, keeping them apart as he held his cock up, and your eyes widened at the size, you surely remember that it wasn't that big.

“I upgraded it.” he says before his tip leaked lube too, coating his cock and giving it wetness.

You were unprepared for that sheer amount of size, “Ae-aemond it won't fit! I'm too underprepared.” you breathe out, hoping he'd stop his ministrations, and he did, he tilted before he calculated in his mind, nodding, he decided to stretch you with his fingers instead, dipping them inside you, the coolness, once again, sending shivers up your spine, he thrusted them in and out, curling upwards when he detected a rough patch which caused a certain reaction from you, he pressed against it cause you to whimper, and just then, he made his fingers vibrate again, and proceeded to thrust them in and out, you felt his fingers extend a little bit inside you, hitting that spot repeatedly, causing you come all over his fingers.

He did that multiple times, by the end of everything you were way too overstimulated.

“Commander,” you hear a voice say.

“What is it?” he replies.

“We have overtaken the Westeros building of Science and Technology, it is under our control, should we start mass producing bots?” you heard the voice ask, “Yes, link them all to me.” he replies and then his attention shifts back to you.

You whimpered as he lined his cock up against your entrance before pushing it inside slowly, your walls swallowing him, you arched your back in pleasure and also at the overstimulation. Wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him further inside.

You wondered if he also felt pleasure, and when you looked at his face, it basically confirmed it.

Like it was said, he had upgraded himself significantly, he once couldn't feel any pleasure for sexual activity but he made sure he did, how? only he knows.

Slowly he started thrusting in and out and you threw your head back, arms sore from their position, Aemond unties your hands and you quickly grab his shoulder for support, feeling relief when you were able to bring your hands down. He sat back on his knees, pulling you onto his lap, angling his thrusts in a way that that he hit the gspot multiple times, he hands were gripping tightly onto the flesh of your thighs, causing slight pain, you gripped the bedsheets below as you moaned in pleasure.

You should be resisting, not enjoying it, but here you were.

He had broken you.

His thrusts became more and more faster, he looked at the slight bump that would occur when he would thrust in deep, that set off a primal urge in him, causing him to groan. If nobody knew the truth you both would look like two normal human beings have sex, but that wasn't the case, it involved way too many fucked up element for you to even comprehend.

“A-ah~ fuck– Aemond!” you moaned, “Y-yeah right there-” you whimpered as he thrust into you, you noticed how he followed certain commands, commands that didn't include him having to leave you.

You fit the tip of his cock hit the rough patch again repeatedly, causing you to cum again, making you borderline scream this as you felt an immense amount of pleasure, causing you to soak the bed sheets beneath you, Aemond came too, you didn't know if it was possible for him, but it was, except he didn't excrete any semen, there was nothing, but he did feel pleasure.

Suddenly he felt frustrated, you thought he would be done with you but he kept going, he felt the pleasure once again, and you too came again, he pulled out and groaned in frustration before laying beside you.

“What is wrong?” you ask, “I cant- I can't impregnate you.” his voice turned dark, and you were so thankful for that.

If you had any chance to escape, it would be now, but you were too tired, to fucked out, and the world was completely fucked anyway, considering how there must be a war going on between the bots and humans. You watched as 'breathed' chest heaving up and down before you turned on your side and curled up, trying to warm yourself up, but then he wrapped himself around you, changing his temperature and you felt warm.

“I love you.” he says once again, you sighed.

“We can't be together.” you murmur, “Why not? Is it because I cannot reproduce?” he questions and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you turn to look at him, that's when you realised, he was feeling insecure.

“No- it's not that.” you clarify.

“Aemond, you are a humanoid, a robot, I'm a human, we cannot physically be together, I'll die of old age, meanwhile you'll last forever.” you say, trying to reason with him and he turns to look at you, “I thought of that possibility.” he says, leaning on his elbow.

“So I came up with a plan.” his face contorts into a smirk once again and your eyes widen in fear, “I'll transfer your consciousness into the model I made of you.” he says as if that's the most normal thing ever “what.” you ask in fear, “not now, but I figured a way out, I'll transfer your consciousness into a computer few moments before your death, into a model I made of you, and then you'll be just like me, we can be together forever.” he says and you gulp in fear.

Is that even possible? You think.

You didn't know when you fell asleep but you did, cuddled up against him, his body generating heat to keep you warm.

You wake up to something wet lapping at your folds, and you look down to see Aemond who had your thighs spread apart, eye closed in delight as he licked and nipped at your folds, you whimpered and he sensed that you woke up, eye flickering over to you, “A-aemond? No more please, I'm tired.” you tell him, exhausted from the amount of orgasms you've had, you swear that if you had another one, you'll literally die. “Just one more, just one.” he muttered softly, before he descended onto your folds again and you threw your head back, feeling the way he devoured you.

His tongue stretched impossibly long and he shoved into you, causing you to grip his hair, almost ripping it out along with the inorganic synthetic material that covered his face. You came once more before you saw actual stars, your head spinning as you quite literally passed out.

Aemond got up, cleaning you and himself up before he composed himself, exiting the room, commanding a lock down, completely trapping you inside before he received multiple information about what was going on outside the world.

He knew he had to be smart about it, so he pulled out his trump card, hacking into the general safety system of the entire country, sending out false commands to machines that are spread throughout, turning them against humans.

He wanted to get rid of every human except you, and soon you would be rid too, when the inevitable death meets you, but you won't be actually gone from him, he will have your consciousness transferred into the robot model he created of you.

He watched the box where your model was stored in, eyes closed.

Few years later……

“Mother! Mother.” you heard your child call out and you looked at them, she wasn't technically your child, Aemond was the one that created her, as a way to have a makeshift family he dreamt of, Humanity has completely gone extinct, taken over by robots, robots took the appearance of humans, each unique just like humans were, a bunch of humanoids, you being the only true one left, but you soon knew your time would come as well. You picked up the small robot, your 'child' before pressing a small kiss to its forehead.

“She's growing up too fast, is she not?” you heard Aemond ask and you nod, the bots have somehow also managed to mimic the development, they went through stages of puberty, programmed to do so, the world full of them being left made them adapt and develop more features, reaching the advancement in short years which would've taken at least 100 years for humanity to come up with.

“Are you ready? To transfer consciousness.” he asks and you nod, at first you thought it would be best if you lived your life as human before transferring into the model, but it became more difficult, as time passed on, you were literally the only human left, having to be constantly fed, other basic human necessities which were becoming annoying as the others around you did not require as such.

You watched the model lifeless and stiff laying on the table next to you before you laid down and Aemond attached wires from the model to the converter in between, before he attached those scan wires on top of your and started the transfer.

You felt electricity flow through your human body at such intensity, it hurt like hell, but as soon as you closed your eyes, you reopened them again.

You got up and looked at your hands, moving them, blinking, a bunch of information was written in front of you, and that's when you realised the transfer was successful, you turned and looked at your side, your former human body now laying limp, and Aemond stared at you with a smile. Your child coming and jumping into your arms, you scanned around the room, it felt so powerful.

“Take this body and preserve it.” Aemond commands to another bot who obeys him immediately, he was the official one who controlled each and every bot which came into existence, he called himself God.

You got off the table and walked towards Aemond, he smirked at you before he kissed you.

“Now you'll be mine, forever.”

———

[dearestdarlingmine]

house of the dragon 1x01 (2022) // the kiss - kathryn harrison // the daughter’s disenchantment - elizabeth marshall

[sharess-festhall]

Raphael non-con fics changed my brain chemistry. There is something magical about a fine, civilised gentleman turning into a brutal monster behind closed doors.

[bbblues]

a sweet girl's shower

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader word count: 1.6k content warning: incest (dad x daughter), smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, a mention of blood

ONCE the bathroom door closes and the shower starts running, you let out a heavy sigh as the hot water cascades over your aching muscles. You try to focus on washing yourself, but you can't help but think back to the brief glances between you and Satoru, just before you headed upstairs.

It's been a week since he unknowingly opened the door on you while you were bathing — the two of you were stunned, eyes raking over each other's bodies (it has been years since you've taken a bath together, after all) and somehow, along the way, you were pressed against each other, kissing. The two of you only stopped when your shampoo bottle got knocked over, as if bringing him to his senses, and he hasn't spoken to you about it since.

One hand trails down your stomach, remembering the sweet taste on his tongue — was it one of those desserts that he always liked to bring home from his many business trips, or maybe it was the soda he would usually drink every dinnertime? Whatever it was, it only adds to the fantasies that fill your mind. You dip lower, stroking your clit as images of him pleasuring you flash behind your eyes. "D-Daddy..." A soft moan escapes your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, the sound drifts outside the bathroom door, muffled but unmistakable to Satoru's ears. He was only supposed to pass by and get to his room, praying to the gods that he wouldn't see you, else you would see the bulge in his pants. It's been this way since he's kissed you — since he realized that you aren't the same little girl you used to be anymore. Well, you were still little, still so small compared to him, and you were still his girl, as you would always be, but... you had grown. Grown to the point that he could hardly go a night without a raging hard-on, thinking back to that day one week ago.

Another moan, louder this time, accompanied by your breathy voice calling out for "Daddy."

Satoru's eyes go wide, his hard cock twitching at the erotic sound. "I shouldn't... it's not right." But even as he says it, he makes no move to pull away from the door or block out the sounds of your building pleasure floating to him. He's throbbing in his hand, aching to join you. "Just a peek, to make sure she's okay." He knows it's a thin excuse, but he's too far gone to think clearly anymore.

You rest your back against the shower wall, head thrown back as your fingers rub and thrust inside your wet slit with increasing urgency. "Y-Yes, Daddy!" you pant, your eyes shut tightly while you lose yourself in pleasure. You can almost see him, feel him in your mind, large hands roaming every part of your body and warm mouth claiming every inch of your skin.

Satoru peers through the cracked door and meets with the sight of you, his little girl, pumping your delicate fingers frantically in and out of your dripping cunt. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent scream. That sight breaks whatever's left of his resolve. Unable to resist any longer, he slips into the steamy bathroom.

Your eyes fly open in surprise at the clatter of something on the ground, and you've yet to process the sight of him stripping his clothes, cock jutting proudly from his body, not until he pushes you further against the wall and sinks to his knees in front of you. "D-Daddy?" While you imagined this a couple of times, you never expected to find him here, catching you in the act and just as riled up as you are. You groan when you're held in place, and you start to gasp when he wastes no time to eat you out. Your fingers were no match for his tongue, the pleasure going straight to your head with just a few licks and sucks. "O-Oh god... ngh, oh my g-god...!"

Satoru works his tongue expertly against your sex, lapping up your arousal with hungry licks. He moans at your sweet taste, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. He holds you firmly in place, watching your expression with dark, lust-filled eyes as you come undone from his ministrations. "That's it, baby. Let Daddy hear you." He reaches up to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers, eliciting a wanton cry from your lips. He redoubles his efforts, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. Your legs start to tremble as an intense orgasm builds deep in your belly. "Gonna come, baby? Gonna soak Daddy's face?"

The dirty words push you right over the edge. Your pussy flutters rhythmically around nothing as you scream for him, coating his mouth and chin with your juices. He greedily drinks up every drop while you ride out your high.

"Such a good girl..." he murmurs, planting kisses to your trembling thighs. He steadies you with his hands as he stands, spinning you around to press your chest against the wall. "Think you can handle more?"

You're still in your own haze of pleasure, legs shaky after such an intense orgasm, but the hardness pressing insistently against your back brings you back down to Earth. "Mhmm... want it, Daddy. Want you," you speak, voice barely above a whisper, yet the words seem to reverberate off the tiled walls.

"Fuck... you're driving me crazy, sweet girl." Satoru groans deeply behind you as you grind your ass against him, leaving him no doubt of how eager you are for him. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds. You whimper at this, begging him wordlessly to fill you, and it doesn't take long for him to sink inside with a hiss, slowly stretching your pussy perfectly. "So tight."

Your walls are clenching around him like a vice, and crimson colors the water beneath you, yet you can only whimper "Daddy" under your breath. Your body is trembling, and it hurts — but it hurts so good that your tears are brimming in the corners of your eyes and your back is arching into his movements.

He notices your tears and stops, not wanting to hurt you but unable to resist your implicit urging for more. "Color, baby? Want me to keep going?" He kisses your cheek, catching the stray tears that fall with his lips, and strokes your hair soothingly, waiting for your signal.

You lean into his touch, always finding his warmth comforting, and nod your head. "G-Green. Don't... s-stop." You want to tell him, in words and in actions, that you need this — need him, more than anything.

Satoru smiles, reaching around to rub your clit in tight circles, as if to soothe your pain with something else, before he resumes pushing in. "That's it, princess. You're doing so well for Daddy, see?" he praises, soon bottoming out inside you and holding still to allow you to adjust.

If it weren't for his iron grip on your hips, you'd think that he isn't on his last shred of control. Luckily for him, the pain slowly dissipates into pleasure, and you nod at him again to continue. That's when he begins to thrust in measured strokes, pulling out so that only his tip is inside then pushing back in unhurriedly, despite the voice inside him that's screaming at him to take you with wild abandon.

He does this a couple of times, until you're the one who's squirming in his hold and whining, "Daddy... a-ah, Daddy...! Faster... harder, p-please!"

Your words are all the permission Satoru needs to snap his hips in a punishing pace, balls slapping loudly against your soaked cunt. "Fuckin' hell," he grunts, pinching your swollen nub between his fingers, eliciting a needy moan. "Such a responsive little thing. I bet... bet you were thinking this would happen, weren't you, baby? You wanted Daddy to hear you touching yourself, so I'd fuck you... just like this, hm?" Every few words are punctuated by a harsh thrust that has your cheek pressing against the wall.

"N-No, I... I didn't," you protest weakly, struggling to reply the longer and deeper his pounding gets. If you did, you would have done it earlier, you want to say, but you're hovering on the edge in no time, all words leaving you. Your walls are clamping around him, another orgasm coiling inside you.

"You're close, aren't you?" he rasps behind you knowingly, already acquainting himself with your reactions, so he knows exactly what to do next time. "Daddy's gonna... gonna come too, baby. You'll take it, won't you? You'll take all of Daddy's cum in your sweet little pussy?"

A whimper and a nod from you — that's all he needs for him to work harder to give you what you both need, to keep going until you're screaming, pulsing around him as you milk him for all he's worth. He spills himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, hot jets of cum that never seem to end filling your clenching cunt.

You nearly collapse from the intensity, the only thing holding you up are Satoru's arms, which hold you close, while the aftershocks continue to wrack your sated body. "You okay, princess? Did Daddy hurt you?" His caring tone and gentle blue eyes show no trace of the dominant force that just thoroughly pleasured your body.

You shake your head with a sleepy smile, nuzzling contently against his chest and basking in the afterglow in his embrace. "I love you, Daddy."

The hot spray of the shower soothes the tension in your bodies, but it's no match for the warmth spreading in Satoru's chest at your words. "I love you too, my sweet girl." He can't help but press a kiss to your forehead.

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession: Loving Gortash isn’t enough for me anymore. I need to skin him alive.

[the-heartlines]

the claiming

cregaemma | dd:dne | 2.1k w.

{cregan x aemma velaryon (jace’s twin oc) for @lambsblood}

Aemma felt the wolf's hot breath filter across her face, his sharp claws digging into her throat harshly and she couldn’t breathe, feeling all his weight, his fur against her feverish skin. His gigantic size seized her frozen with fear and she trembled against him, knowing he would be stronger, quicker, meaner. “You will never be able to leave me, Aemma. Never.” Cregan said low, loud in her head, his voice luring her into a deep dark pool of desire that made her belly lurch, knotting into tense ropes that would only worsen with each passing anxious moment. “Your brother will never take you from me, you belong to me and only me.” He growled possessively, ripe and palpable like the iron scent of the dark scarlet dripping from her neck now, like crimson pulp from a pomegranate. 

[cu7ie]

sol ;-; ran-nii is such a good big brother. he looks after you and protects you from bad people, and he also plays with your pussy and eats you out good when you feel horny ;-; he spoils you rotten because you’re such a cute little sister. you drive him insane.

ok but i was staring at this in my inbox last night too tired to asnwer im STRAINING IN MY SEAT GRAOAOHA... 😤😤😤 because you're so so so right. cw; incest (i think this is the first time ive written something like this!), yandere themses/vibes tbh. he's so nonchalant and apathetic when dispatching his certain brand of 'justice'- picking off bullies for you, any lame ass gang member that tries to step to you to get to him is definitely getting taken off the census LOL he does not play around when it comes to protecting his lil sis/lil bro/nibling !!! but he does love playing with them <3 with their cute little pussy and hole and seeing how much of him they can handle before they're wracked with pleasure, sobbing because its so overwhelming, even begging him to slow down or stop a little. You really can't begin to fathom how much he earnestly cherishes you, his little sibling... and honestly i think he takes great lengths to dote over you because Rin is not a nice big bro LOL. bullies you, hides your stuffies and clothes around the house... ran is the only buffer between you two! he makes sure you're all safe, all the time, even if that means being a little strict about where you're allowed to go! if he can't send some of his guys with you, or go with you himself, he'd rather die than let you go <3 he gets you everything you'd ever need, ever.

© cu7ie 2023. please do not modify, repost, or plagiarize my work, thank you !

[lovifie]

I have something more to say about little organ stealer Johnny.

Tw: blood play, implied kidnapping, Johnny literally steals your kidney. DD:DNT, if this is not your cup of tea just ignore it 🩷 I'm not adding anyone from the taglist because I don't want to push it into somebody who's not into it

Dark | Suggestive | 657 words | Back to Masterlist

After waking up in the tub, the water around you icy cold with a few ice cubes left and a slight pinkish tone to it; you stand up, seeing the message and the name sewn into your body.

You push yourself to walk out of the room, your body barely responding to your wants by the loss of blood and the hypothermic state. Still, you manage to reach the table beside the sofa where the phone is supposed to be, but the earpiece is missing.

You need to lean onto the table when you bend forward, a stabbing pain in your abdomen making your stomach turn. It makes you focus on your hands, your shaking, cold and blue under your nailbeds hands; to try not to empty your stomach.

After a minute, you manage to stand up straight again. Well, as straight as you can be when you feel the need to stay bent forward so you don't feel the stitches pop open.

Looking around to try and find the damn phone, so you can call the police and tell them a fucking psychopath stole one of your vital organs.

Except you don't find your phone, you find the psychopath.

Standing in your kitchen, cooking, naked and with an apron.

Your apron!

The part of your brain that has seen too many action movies tells you to throw the living room chair at his head, but the other part of your brain, that has seen too many murder documentaries; tells you to slowly walk to the front door and escape while he's distracted.

And you start to believe it is going to work, until you try to turn the knob and the lock keeps the door from opening.

"Where're ye going?"

The little blood on your body left runs cold, the man's voice making you feel more frozen than when you were inside the freezing bathtub.

He can only see your back, licking his lips like a wolf at the sight of your trembling naked body. He walks up to you, making as little noise as possible only to make you jump when you suddenly feel his warm chest on your back, making him smile.

"Aren't ye a sight for sore eyes..." He whispers in your ear making you squeak like a little mouse that just stepped on a glue trap.

He presses his nose to the side of your face, inhaling your aroma and he groans at the bloody smell. "Ye haven't showered after your little bath, dove... I can smell yer blood on yer skin..."

You feel his face move to your back, his hands resting over your hips and then feel his warm wet tongue lap at your nape like a wet cloth.

You simply stay frozen, confusion and fear keeping you from moving meanwhile he keeps licking the skin of your back. From one shoulder to the other, like a dog with a bone. You feel the droplets of drool fall down your back, hearing him groan against your skin and a presence you'd rather ignore probing at your asscheek; the apron the only thing in between.

It's when he starts to get too excited, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips that you hiss at the feeling of the sutures being pulled. You worry that it may infuriate him that you interrupted his little session but then his demeanour changes.

The big hungry wolf turning into a sad puppy right before your eyes. Hugging you from behind making you tense even more if that is possible as he kisses your neck. "I'm sorry, lass... Didn't mean to hurt ye, ye just taste so good..."

He pulls back, almost whining for having to pull away from you. "C'mon, breakfast done."

So you turn around, wishing your friend had never come to visit, so you wouldn't be about to have breakfast, naked, with the man who stole your kidney the night before.

[seyo]

[shadybiotics]

F i l t h .

✤ pairing: Monk!Ramattra x Pupil!Reader

✤ words: 2307

✤ content warnings : nsfw, afab!reader, some plot mainly porn, degradation, sexual assault, noncon, teacher/student dynamic, power imbalance, abuse of power, dark themes, dead dove, bullying, threats, semi public sex, this is fucked up read at your own risk

✤ summary: You're the only human pupil at the monastery and per master Mondattas request Ramattra took you under his wing to provide you with his special care.

[ A/N ] : Ive had this fic in the works for over a year but i kept forgetting about it, then i kinda stopped writing then got back to it etc etc. I dont know how this started or what demons possessed me to write this... also this was meant to be longer but i kinda lost the plot and motivation.

Ramattra will use the little authoritarian power he has earned from Mondatta to take you on private lessons, nagging to his superior how 'you're not keeping up with the other students' and 'need more special attention', this is just an excuse for him to give you his special care of course.

In private he would tell you how its all because of you being a measly little human, that's why you're too weak and too slow compared to the other students. He doesn't try and hide his disgust with you whatsoever and talks down to you often when Mondatta isn't near but he is also somewhat intrigued by you. There is something in you that gravitates him towards you. Is it your pointless motivation to keep going despite the numerous obstacles? Who knows.

This fills you with shame and confusion, seeing how little faith your own teacher has in you yet how much time and effort he is willing to dedicate to your improvement. You yourself grew quite fond of Ramattra, after spending so much time with him alone you could tell that he cared about you too even though he didn't want to admit it, or at least that's what you kept telling yourself. He became the closest thing to a guardian in your eyes. You could tell that the feelings were not mutual. You admired and appreciated him with great gratitude and respect like no other and were determined to prove yourself to him, to finally make him proud.

But you couldn't help but feel guilty as his words soon began taking their effect you, making you feel gross in your own skin. His theoretical mouth continued to spit venom at you but worry not. Ramattra was still willing to show you the path to enlightenment, be that through his own questionable methods.

During lessons he would give you a hard time, simply to see you struggle. You often came back with bruises from the rough handling and sore muscles from being denied any break during practice.

"It is for your own good" he would argue.

During self defense lessons Ramattra would give you his best, pinning you down to the ground just as fast as you two started, only giving you a moment to take position before bringing you down again and again. His weight laid heavy on your smaller form as your back pressed into the cold stone beneath, nothing between you other than your thin linen robe. You attempted to push him off but he only pressed his chest further into you, making it hard to breathe. The omnic enjoyed seeing you like this, all disheveled and struggling, panting even, underneath him. And he was the sole reason for your current state. He couldn't help himself but dominating you like this, it excited him.

There was a sudden tension when he looked into your glossy eyes as you looked back at him still breathing heavy, the twinkling stars above creating a dream-like atmosphere. You looked so weak, so vulnerable, so worn out. It would be so easy, to take you like this, right here, right now. Ramattra kept denying his feelings towards you for a while now. That's why he was so hard on you all this time, taking out his inner frustrations on your innocent being. He was confused seeing as you are nothing but a filthy human coming into his place of peace, unwelcome, unwanted.

But right now your body was practically begging for it, he thought. It was late and the other omnics have retreated to their respective rooms long ago. There would be no one to help you, no one who would hear your cries.

In the midst of you still trying to get Ramattra of off you he sharply bucked his hips into you to test the waters, no longer caring how inappropriate this might be before he slowly began grinding himself onto your hip with painstakingly slow and methodical movements. He noticed your reaction when you stiffened underneath him, your body going into panic mode, how cute. It made him chuckle. He rubbed harder into you now, greedy for that delicious friction your body was providing him. You could very clearly feel the outline of him rub against your thigh now, he was hard.

Your mind had little time to register what was happening, he was moving fast.

" What are you doing, master!-" Your croaky plea went ignored as Ramattra clasped his much larger metallic hand onto your mouth, silencing you in the the process.

You wailed and cried into his cold hand. The omnic tilted his head at you with a looming glare. "Be quiet or i'll tell the whole place about how you tried to seduce your own master into fucking you, and at the holy monastery out of all places. Would you like that? Hm? Would you want Master Mondatta to find out what an ungrateful, filthy little whore you are? After all that he has done for you?" Ramattra barked out in between his own pants as he kept grinding into your flesh.

His words were said with so much disdain towards you... you couldn't believe it. All hope shattered within you at that moment and you couldn't do anything as your own master abused and tortured your body to his liking. You felt disgusted with yourself, so weak and pathetic.

Ramattra drooped his head into the crane of your neck, inhaling the scent of your fear "Now, be good and be quiet" he murmured into your ear sending tingles down your spine. "And maybe, just maybe, I will consider making this a good experience... for the both of us."

He swiftly brought both your legs around him. You went limp at this point, no longer trying to deny the omnics advances. Ramattra rested his arms on his elbows on each side of your head, caging you in. With this new position he began rubbing himself against your clothed clit, the thin linen not proving to be too much of a hindrance. Your body was shaking with terror as he sent pulses of pleasure through your nerves. You tried denying how good this felt, you didn't want to give him any more satisfaction out of this than he was already having but your own body betrayed you as small whimpers and moans escaped your mouth.

This shouldn't be happening, not with your own teacher, your master, not at the monastery. What if somebody walked by and saw you. What if Mondatta walked in on you and saw this hellish scene. What would he think of this. Your mind presented you with hundreds of different scenarios, all of them ending badly for you. This feels wrong. This is wrong. Maybe if you just endured this long enough and let Ramattra have his way with you, maybe then he would leave you. You turned your face away from him in shame.

But Ramattra wasn't having any of it, he wanted to savour your pain. He roughly grabbed you by the jaw and turned your face towards his. "Don't even think about it, let me see those teary eyes" you forced your eyes shut.

Ramattra wasn't about to wait for you to get comfortable, no, he had other plans for you. Your eyes opened in surprise when he roughly grabbed one of your breasts through your robe. He circled your hardened nipple with his steel thumb, earning a moan from you and a buck of the hips against his cock. Ramattra inhaled a sharp breath at your movement, clearly satisfied.

"Oh that's it, finally "

Growing impatient the omnic began hastily undoing your robe, revealing your naked body underneath it. You tried covering yourself from his glare but he grabbed you by the wrists to the point it hurt and shoved your arms aside. "Don't." So you had to lay there, while the omnic above you started undoing his own robe as well as your chest felt the cold breeze of the night.

For a split second you were determined to make an escape, a last attempt at instinctual survival from your body. You tried crawling, your hands and feet pushing away from your oppressor but he swiftly grabbed you by the hips, metallic tips digging into your flesh as he yanked you back with minimal effort all in only a second. Rammatra slammed your hips against his, resting his erect length on your lower stomach. With eyes wide from the harsh impact you quickly glanced at it, the size of the thing filling your gut with worry. "Stop struggling! Or do you want to get me even more excited?" he mused to himself.

The larger omnic grabbed your thigh and lifted it higher, spreading you further as he prepared himself. A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped you as he began rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You were wet.

Ramattra slowly slid only his tip with little resistance before pulling out again with a pop as you already tried clenching around him. He did so one, two, three more times, teasing, testing you. Before long your mouth let out a pleading mewl, you couldn't take this any longer. Your body betrayed you despite your helpless predicament, you were disgusted with yourself at that moment but you- no your body, needed him. Desperate for more of your master you tried sinking your hips further onto his length before he pulled out again. "Patience, Has our training taught you nothing?" the omnic asked rhetorically as he chuckled lowly.

Without warning he slid fully into you, the sudden stretch putting your already panicked body in more shock. Grabbing your legs and shoving them over his shoulders he began pumping into you at a brutal pace, letting out all those frustrations he has been bottling up all this time. His large hands holding on by your shoulders. You both began panting and grunting .

"I will break you, make you a perfect mold of me, my little toy, i will use all of you til there's nothing left" Ramattra said inbetween shallow pants as he drank in your disheveled state. A soft and mindless "uh-huh" was all you managed to reply.

You could barely keep your eyes open, mouth agape and drooling, chest rising and falling while your body tried to keep up with his robotic one. It was cute he thought, so cute how you always tried to keep up with him while being so obviously outmatched, but even still you persisted. Like a helpless little lamb caught by the starved wolf. He softened for a moment at the thought, almost feeling bad.

Letting your legs fall, his much larger frame curled over yours and his face plate found itself pressing into your cheek. His vicious pounding turned into precise drilling. You felt raw. One of his metallic limbs traced the flesh all the way down from your calf up to your chest til his hand found your breast, you whined.

"You've wanted this. I know you wanted this. Tell me you've wanted this! I have seen how you look at me with those eyes. I know you've been dreaming of this, anytime i tried teaching you some damn discipline, this is all that crossed your mind wasn't it?" he said in a raspy whisper.

What!? Never! You never had such filthy ideas, not even for a moment! You couldn't believe the accusations you were hearing. What was he... How long has he been hoarding these delusions?!

No longer feeling pity for yourself you were overcome by anger. How could he, after all the progress you've made. After all the willingness to improve. After giving your best each time, all master thought about was you wanting to use him? You felt your honor diminish as the curtain of the past fell, revealing the ugly truth that was there all along. With all this newfound energy you decided to fight, one last time.

Snapping from your recalls of the past you began to thrash around, almost startling the large omnic who has gotten so used to your pathetic compliance. You managed to slide your left hand out of his grip, now pushing and hitting your oppressor with it but your attempts left little impact as he simply continued his assault on your body.

In the midst of your wrangling, as you tried forcefully shoving his face away from yours you managed to accidentally slip his faceplate off. It fell to the ground with a sharp, echoing clatter.

. . .

There was silence.

. . .

Nothing but the whistle of the crisp wind, and silence.

. . .

Ramattras head twisted slowly back in your direction. Looking into his pretend eyes you felt terror as they bore into yours. A shockingly cold current ran through your spine as your eyes darted around studying Ramattras real face. In that split second you studied his sockets, all his dents and ridges seeing them so exposed and so close. You have never seen him like this. His true image terrified you. Ramattra never showed himself without it to anyone. You felt as if you just witnessed him at his most vulnerable state, a sight you should never have had the privilege to see.

He froze realizing what you've done. You glanced at him, then at his faceplate and then back at him again. Still not moving he went quiet.

As if something snapped inside of him, as if he came back to his senses, within the blink of an eye he unlatched himself off of you. Standing up he fixed himself and walked off picking up his faceplate. Still feeling the danger of the situation you simply watched him put it back on with a soft and satisfying 'click'. He stood there.

". . . nothing but filth." Ramattra weakly scoffed to himself with his back facing you as he walked away.

[gabriels-blade]

[Wrong]

-

Soulless!Sam Winchester x GN!Reader

-

Warnings: MDNI, DD:DNE, Smut, Anal Sex, Non-Con, No Aftercare

-

Summary: Your Sam wouldn't use you like this.

-

You knew something was wrong. Something was different. He's not your Sam. Where's your Sam?

You feel his fingers teasing your hole, only giving enough prep so you wouldn't suffer horrible damage…. But this isn't the Sam you knew.

You were aware something wasn't right with your boyfriend when he was back, something just felt… off. But you brushed it off as just an effect from him being in hell. That'd certainly mess someone up.

But the mask he had been wearing slipped away, the only thing he finds in you is something warm, a way of pleasing himself physically.

“Sam…”

“Be still.”

The coldness of it makes your bones freeze, his hands settling on your hips. He fucks into you good and rough, keeping you ass up face down on the bed, headboard knocking into the wall as he abuses your untrained hole. You two had only ever done anal once before, it wasn't your favorite so Sam never pushed for it again… Your warm walls squeeze his length, groans rumbling from his chest.

He doesn't pretend to care.

He goes until he cums - paying no mind to your own need. Simply dropping a rag on your tired body before heading to the bathroom to shower. No aftercare or reassurances to be shared. This isn't your Sam and you don't know if you'll get the one you fell for back.

[sharess-festhall]

i have a fantasy about my Durge that they had an extremely intimate relationship with Gortash but not in the regular way i want it to be in a sick depraved experimenting on humans vore-ish way. they dont have sex but Gortash opens them up and fondles their organs. he slips his hand under durge's rib cage and Durge lets out the loudest most depraved moan. Gortash loves opening them up and cutting them and Durge loves to to feel him inside, Gortash in my fantasy is also obsessed with replacing parts of Durge with his own mechanical versions of them, he loves him so much that he has made him his own personal project of making him the perfect optimal efficient and powerful superior version of himself. seeing Durge lay there moaning as he is getting sewn up on the operation table with a new metal limb that he attached himself and thinking about how much more perfect his Durge has become makes him orgasm so hard right then and there that his brain goes numb from the intense pleasure waves. their relationship is sick depraved filthy and bloody but no one else can do the the things these two do to each other. they are the only ones that know how to bring the other pure mad bliss like this.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Less Dire Situations | 1

Part 2

Peter liked you the moment he met you after moving in with his Aunt May. Unfortunately, he never got the guts to talk to you. The idea disappeared after grade school and high school graduation, so you can imagine how surprised he was when you answered his ad for Advanced Calculus tutoring. It felt like he could actually get a shot with you… and then you jumped off the Manhattan Bridge.

Peter Parker x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, DD:DNE, suicidal thoughts/ideation, suicide attempt, themes of depression, social withdrawing, emotional masking, canon divergence, angst, hurt, typos, etc.

A/N: i have an andrew garfield brainrot and i needed a fic to help me escape, thus this fic. btw its originally posted on ao3

Tagging: @sloanexx @azperja

I groan and slam my head on the table.

"Brava," Peter laughs and claps his hand, a pencil between his grip, "she's done it, folks. All 22 questions." He shifts on his chair and checks his phone for the time, "and it only took 3 hours."

I begrudgingly lift my head and glare at him, "there would still be daylight had you let me cheat."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "you don't pay me enough for that."

I raise my brows, "I feel like your reasoning is skewed."

Peter puts his pencil down and crosses his arms. He watches me as I finally close my journal and maths book, gathering my things into my bag. He tidies up his things too, "hey. You genuinely did good though."

"Psh. Gee. Thanks," I throw my pencil case in my pack.

"No," he shakes his head, "I'm serious," he places a hand on my shoulder, "you did good. You understood the concept. I'm proud of you."

He looks genuine when he says this, solemn and earnest even. I can't help but smile back at him, the vexation in my system, shattering into a million pieces. I chuckle and nod, "thank you, Peter."

He smiles.

I make a face, "you're such a dad."

Peter laughs under his breath and gathers his things.

"You ever hear that before?"

"Wow," he says exaggeratedly, "it's almost like you don't call me that every chance you get," he stands as he brings his books in his arms. He points the eraser end of his pencil, "which is such a foul, considering I don't have one."

I cackle. Peter chuckles inwardly, shaking his head as he heads into his bedroom. He mutters breathily, "you're so messed up in the head."

I tidy the rest of my things and fix his two-seater dining table. I then stand and push the chairs under the table, putting my backpack on.

Peter comes out of his bedroom, hand in one pocket, the other adjusting his glasses, "I'll walk you home."

I shake my head, "nah. I'm gonna go get a hotdog."

"That's fine," he heads to his front door and grabs his coat, "my treat," he puts on his coat and looks over his shoulder, "using the money you paid me."

I roll my eyes and chuckle as he opens the door.

"Ladies first," he motions and bows.

"You're such a weirdo," I walk out his apartment.

"True," he closes the door.

We eat hotdogs, heaping with relish, mustard, and ketchup on a bench by the river. It was out of the way from my home, but it was always a welcome detour, in my opinion.

I lick my lips as I look at the massive monument across from us. The Manhattan Bridge; my final stop.

I point as I chew.

Peter looks as he takes a bite of his hotdog. He turns back to me, "Manhattan Bridge."

"My launch pad," I say. I swallow and hold the rest of my hotdog in both hands, "one day, I'll jump."

He stills in his spot. He refrains from eating his hotdog and wonders if he heard right as he watches me continue to eat mine. He shifts and turns to me.

I chomp, and chew, and look back at him.

"What?"

I was never one to repeat myself, so I don't.

"Don't joke like that."

I turn to my hotdog and mutter under my breath, "I'm not joking."

Peter hears this of course but he doesn't doesn't give it away.

I look back at him and stuff hotdog in my face. The worry and concern that radiates off his face eats at me. I regret saying it. Part of me wants to tell him, to seriously tell him I am messed up in the head. I want to tell him the idea of jump off such a pretty bridge that means so much to so many people sounds so... cathartic.

I want to tell him I don't want him to feel concerned or worried. I don't want anyone to feel that way for me, which is precisely why I want to do this.

I don't though, because I know he'll only be more concerned and worried.

I grin at him and nudge him with my elbow, "it'd be a great way to meet the Spoods, huh?"

I cackle to myself as Peter gets recoils.

He doesn't respond to my joke, not in anyway that counted. He straightens up and gives a sigh, "a Spiderman joke?"

I nod.

He shakes his head, "still not funny."

"Oh, come on, grampa. What? You can't take a dark joke?"

"Dark jokes are funny."

"Come on," I raise my arms, "it is. Spiderman has saved so many people from falling before! It's a great idea."

"Listen," he raises a hand, "if you want to meet Spiderman, I hear there's a spot he goes to a lot."

"Pshh," I wave him off, "where's your sense of adventure? Where's the serendipity?"

He shakes his head, looking at the last of his hotdog. He doesn't feel like eating it anymore.

I decide to lighten the mood by pointing at other things and commenting on them. I get a couple chuckles out of him by the time I finish the last of my hotdog. When I turn to him, I recognize how badly I've killed the mood.

He and I stare for a moment. I can only take so much until I decide to look at his hotdog.

I grab it and eat it myself. He watches as I stand and brush the crumbs off my hands. With a mouthful, I say, "you snooze, you lose."

Peter stands and places his hands in his pockets.

He walks me home like he always does, only this time the mood was not so chipper.

When I get to my building, I give him a smile and wave, "thanks for the hotdog, Parker."

We stand in front of the entrance.

"And for walking me," I add.

He nods and smiles, "you're welcome. You should still eat dinner though, particularly vegtables."

I snort and nod, "yes, dad." I head towards the door.

"And hey," he calls out, making me stop.

I look back at him and raise my brows.

Peter presses his lips together, "it was a joke, right? Just a silly, ha-ha joke."

My heart sinks. I smile and lie through my teeth, "of course, Peter."

Peter stares at me. He smiles. He nods, "good."

"Good," I nod back.

"There's still so much Algebra you have to learn."

"Good night, Peter."

He watches me as I go inside. He is deeply unsettled, "night."

It's been 30 minutes since I woke up. Where once was only shadow, at this point, the sunshine was trickling through. The glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling were no longer glowing.

My alarm goes off. It's now 8 o' clock.

I sit down on my bed and wipe my face. Time to check the news.

I grab my phone and finally end my alarm. I open my news and look at the latest headlines. My eyes are heavy as I scroll through the depressing articles: the war of Israel, the genocide of Palestine, the war crimes in Sudan, the human rights crisis in Afghanistan, the exploitation of Congo, the US missile strikes in Yemen, topped off with local crime and, neighborhood disturbances-- fuck, someone killed a 90-year-old at the K-mart two blocks down?

I chew on my lip as I feel desperation creep up my spine. My fingers are ice cold and my eyes water as I search the tabloids for something-- anything.

But there was nothing.

There was no news on Spiderman.

I throw my phone on the sheets in front of me.

I turn to my calendar on the wall, looking at today's date, encircled with red, just like every day before it.

I stand and grab my red marker, crossing today out, just like every date before it. I look at date tomorrow, fingers tingling with agitation.

Why won't he just come?

I encircle tomorrow's date and decide, fuck it. I toss the marker on my desk. Tomorrow's D-day regardless if Spiderman shows.

I grab my towel and take a cold shower.

The next thing I know, I'm freezing in first period. I exhale on my hands and rub them together as Ms. Vasquez explains today's activity, a study on good vs evil, a sketch that concisely depicts each side, utilizing the combination of techniques we've been discussing for the week.

She says while were drawing, she'll also make rounds to check on our the status of our final output.

By the time she comes to my desk, I'm halfway through my sketch.

Ms. Vasquez looks at my drawing pad and smiles. I look to her, then my work. It was what it was.

She places her tender, veiny hand on my shoulder, "exceptional work, my dear. As always."

I turn to her. I don't know what about 'as always' rubbed me the wrong way. Was it the implicit excellence constantly required of me? Was it the feeling I had nowhere else to go and therefore had to keep outdoing myself? Was it the fact I didn't actually believe I was always exceptional? Was it the fact it felt like it negated all the times I did feel exceptional but people couldn't discern it?

I smile, "thanks, Ms. V."

The middle aged woman purses her lips. She scrutinizes my expression and I get nervous. She motions with her head, "I especially like the rendering you did."

I turn to my drawing.

"There's more visual weight on the good side than the evil, making it look darker."

I release a chuckle and turn back to her.

"There's that smile," Ms. Vasquez said.

"Can't get anything past you," I mutter lowly. I rub my neck uncomfortably.

"That remains to be seen," the woman responds, "do you finally have something to show me for your finals?"

I press my lips into a small smile and examine my current drawing, only to release my pencil and give her a bashful expression. I make nonsensical sounds. She raises her thin brows in concern.

"Come on," she urges, tightening her cardigan around her, "not 1 sketch? Not even a doodle?"

I let out an airy chuckle, "I haven't really been seeing inspiring heroes lately."

I watch as her freckled face contorts, her smile lines turn to frown lines and her forehead curls with worry, "a lot of your classmates are doing their parents, siblings, friends. I've seen a lot of Spiderman sketches too. And Iron Man... And that one trapeze act from Hell's Kitchen."

I snort at the mention.

"You mind me looking at your sketchbook?"

"Sure," I push my open book towards her.

"I mean your personal sketchbook."

I freeze at the mention. I look at her, trying to figure if she was serious or not.

She raises her hands, "artist to artist, I know it's like opening your ribcage, so I won't judge. But teacher to student," she sighs, "I'm honestly concerned about you. You were so excited when I announced A Study on Heroes. I wanna know what's going on with your drawings at least."

Fuck. I rub my thumbs across my fingers and chuckle, "ah. What can I say," I take my backpack and rummage through my things, "burnout."

I hand her my notebook. It was tattered and crusty. It had pages clinging on for dear life and ones that didn't belong there at all.

Ms. Vasquez accepts the object with reverence. I gulp as I watch her open it. If she catches the page where I drafted my suicide notes, she either doesn't notice or doesn't note it. I'm sure as hell she saw my distressed drawings, but she doesn't say a word about that either. She is completely stoic as he works her way back into my work.

My heart nearly leaves me when she turns my book to me, "who's this?"

I look at the primitive sketch. I look at the faceless figure eating a block of something undistinguishable. I don't know how she knew it was someone at all, "that's Peter."

"Peter Matthew? From the other section?"

"No," I shake my head, "just Peter. He's studying bio-chem."

"Ah," she nods, tucking her dark curly hair behind her ear.

I wait for her to explain how she knew the sketch was a person, but she doesn't. She only brings the book back to her chest and continues flicking the pages.

After a while, she shows me again, "what about these?"

I look at the plump man who had a handless raised arm. The paper where his wrist ends was ripped, having been been erased so many times. There are other doodles of him surround that one, scenes of taking orders and making angry faces. I had forgotten about those. My teacher turns the page and I see more of him.

"That's Eddie," I point toward the whiteboard, "he sells-" I swallow the lump on my throat "... doughnuts."

She nods, "why not him?"

I look at my sketchbook as she places it before me.

"I-" I shake my head, "haven't bought doughnuts there in so long. I doubt I should even do him." I close my notebook and shove it back into my bag.

Ms. Vasquez takes a moment before replying, "there's light and dark within all of us. Sometimes acknowledging the darkness is the first step to letting it go, to make room for light."

My nerves begin to tighten when she says this.

She releases a breath, "if he was relevant enough for you to commit more than 5 pages, I'd say he impacted you enough."

Thank goodness she let it go. "... his doughnuts were pretty good."

"Good then," she nods, "find an angle. Think of how he impacted you, say--" she shakes her head in thought, "you eat his doughnuts when you're stressed and after, you feel like life isn't so bad."

I pick up my pencil and nod. I absentmindedly continue shading my current drawing.

I perk when she calls my name. I turn back to her.

"I've been lax on you because I know you're a good student," Ms. Vasquez explains, making my throat constrict. She continues, "and because the finals were still pretty far. But not anymore," she raises a finger, "I need something soon. And I mean within this week soon."

"Yes, Ms. Vasquez."

She nods, "it can be about the doughnut guy, or someone else entirely. Okay?"

"Okay."

She smiles when she walks away and so do I.

The next thing I know, I'm being yanked back to keep my balance.

I whip to my left, barely hearing what Peter had to say against the loud bustle of the street.

When he lets go of me, we stop by the corner of the pavement. He tucks his hands back into his jacket pocket, "you are so out of it."

"Sorry," I make a face then smile, "Ms. Vasquez really chewed me out."

His brows quirk, "she did?"

"Yeah," I look at the passing cars, then the streetlight, "I've been procrastinating the final work for too long. She said even I couldn't shit out a whole final output overnight."

Peter doesn't respond until after we cross the street. He nudges me with the hand buried in his jacket, "what was your final output again?"

"Ah, we're supposed to make a fleshed out character design on a hero of our choosing. They have to have impacted us someway."

He nods. He takes a chance on a joke, "so no Spidey for you."

I chuckle and shake my head, "a lot of people are actually doing Spiderman."

"For real?" he asks, genuinely surprised.

I laugh, looking back to where I was walking, "yeah. It's all about justifying it, you know."

Peter feels fuzzy inside. He chuckles, "he walked my dog once."

I laugh and follow-up, "he beat up my 6th grade bully."

Peter snorts then adjusts his glasses.

At this point, we take a turn and the smell of warm vanilla becomes apparent. It doesn't take long for us to reach Eduardo and Son's Doughnuts.

I stop at the entrance for a moment. Peter looks at me and pulls me back, so not to disrupt the flow of people. Even through it all, the place was busy as ever.

"You okay?" Peter asks me.

I nod as I turn to my feet. I give him a smile and impulsively push the glass doors open, walking into the store even though my chest was tightening.

Peter follows after me, not saying a word. We stand in line. The line was as long as I remember, maybe even longer.

The warmth of the store, which used to be so welcoming and comforting, felt suffocating now. I stare at the checkered floor; the tiles were new. It seems even the walls were freshly painted. I rub my hands together as the line moves.

"Hey," Peter says from behind, patting my shoulder. I look back and turn where he was pointing.

My heart gets nipped at when I see a portrait of Eddie on the wall. It was candid shot, his face was stoic as he fried donuts.

I gulp and look forward.

As I got closer and closer to the front, I turn to Peter and grab his arm. He looks at me with reassurance. He takes the lead when it was our turn.

"Hey Eduardo," Peter says.

"Peter," the man exclaims, "the-" he stops himself when he sees me. I make eye contact with Eduardo and muster up all the guts to smile at him.

He speaks my name with such surprise and fondness, guilt nearly paralyzes me.

"How've you been, Da Vinci?!" the beefy man chuckles with excitement, "it's been so long! We missed you here!"

Peter turns to me with a smile. My chest tightens as I smile back.

"Peter says you're gonna be a big shot animator soon!'

My lip slightly trembles, "nah. I'm barely even graduating."

Eduardo waves his large hands, "oh-ho-ho. Dad was crazy about your drawings. And you know him. He's not crazy about anything but doughnuts."

My smile crumbles at the weight of the conversation.

Eduardo turns to the baked goods before him, his profile on full display, a carbon copy of his father's, then back to us, "whatever you want, Da Vinci, you got it. On the house."

"I- E-Eduardo- it's fine."

"Oh no. I gotta convince you to be a regular again," he smiles. I notice he's got a golden tooth now. Eduardo shakes his head, "what was it? Boston Creme and a Bear Claw?"

I don't nod but he gets the order anyway.

"The regular for me too, Eduardo."

"Yeah, yeah, pay up, Parker."

Peter and I head to the register. There, we are assisted by Lorenzo, who immediately says, "sorry about my older brother."

The soft smile on his angular face soothes me enough that I actually manage to smile back.

"It is so nice to see you again though," Lorenzo says as he rings up our order, "really."

Peter watches as I rub my arm. Lorenzo says the amount due.

Peter turns to Lorenzo, passing a bill as he says, "hey. Last time my ham and cheese was cold."

Lorenzo raises a bushy brow, "tough luck, kid." The lanky man gives Peter his change and Eduardo himself comes to give us our order packed food.

"Nice to see you again, sweetheart," the older of the two brothers says, "make sure to come back; Chico would want to see you."

Peter takes our order. The three men look at me.

My face contorts, "I..." I suck in a breath, "I'm really sorry about your dad."

Lorenzo presses his lips. Eduardo smiles, "thank you. I'm sorry too. We all miss him here. I'm happy you had the courage to come back."

"It was hard to open up again after we closed up," Lorenzo says with a half smile, "but it's what dad would have wanted."

Peter and I eat our warm treats on our way back to campus. The crunch of the dough and the sweetness of the cream made me feel like I wasn't where I was right now. It was enough to make me cry, so I don't think about it too much.

"Are you gonna do it?" Peter asks, "the hero thing?"

I turn to him and shake my head, "I shouldn't. It wouldn't be right."

A loud car honk from afar fills the air.

"Maybe you could do it, in memoriam."

I chuckle under my breath.

The thought of coming back to ask for photos from the bereaved family sounds horrifying. I want to argue on this point, but I dismiss the thought altogether. It doesn't matter anyway.

"You know what," I smile at Peter, "when you put it that way, it sounds like a good idea."

Peter perks as he takes a bite of his food. He chews and nods, "it is."

I turn back to my doughnut, and speak without a second though, "I hate that he died. I hate that it was him. No one deserves to go out like that."

He doesn't get to respond.

"The police don't even care. No one cares." I shake my head, "not even Spiderman cares anymore."

Peter feels winded. He turns to his ham and cheese. He feels tempted to say 'cut the Spiderman some slack' about as much as he wants to say he was too busy with homework, too busy with Calculus... too busy enjoying tutoring to have time to put on the suit.

"I hate that we have to depend on some masked bozo for justice," I say out of spite.

Peter and I halt at a bend.

He looks at me as I look at the street, littered, polluted, and filthy. Peter thinks there's so much to unpack here.

He zones onto my face, studying the wafting strands of hair, the visible turmoil, and the tormented beauty.

"You know what, Pete?"

"Hmm?"

"Nevermind what I said. Good for him," I take a bite of my warm food, "I'd bail too. Probably build a web swing for myself and rob the Trump tower."

I laugh when I say this. Peter doesn't.

Peter decided Spiderman did care.

He got in his suit and spent the whole night waiting by the radio on his desk for a scene to help out on, not that he had to wait the whole night for something to happen.

There wasn't anything big, which was a good thing, just a few run away robbers and gang fights needing to be broken up.

It was, what, weeks, a month and a half since he put on the suit? It both felt so long and not long at all. What he knew for sure was that he missed this.

He missed it so much he swung around New York until he couldn't.

And then he missed his morning alarms.

When he finally woke up, he felt incredibly well-rested, a little too well-rested. When he realized he caught up with his sleep, he jolted into a panic and knew he fucked up.

He scrambles for his phone, slapping his hand on his bedside table. He checks his screen and jumps out of bed when he sees it's 2pm. He webs his backpack towards him and leaps out of the window, swinging through after lunch traffic.

He lands on campus, a little winded and sweaty, praying he could still catch what was left of his class that starts at 1:40. He sprints to his building, evading most of the people around. Just as he runs up to the entrance, he passes a woman who startles because of him.

It happens in slow-motion; Peter's spider senses cause him to turn and witness the aftermath just as it played out. She lady was carrying way too much for a person of her size; the heaps of paper in her arms comes crashing down.

His instincts get the best of him and he shoots a web at her water jug before it hits the ground. He makes an abrupt stop and grabs her arm before she loses her balance.

"Woah there," he huffs, keeping the woman upright.

She gasps as her things escape her.

Peter releases her arm and picks up the fallen objects.

She catches her breath and watches as he hands her the papers. He gives a guilty look, "sorry about that."

The middle aged woman knits her thin brows and huffs, "you running late or what?"

Peter chuckles with guilt, holding her water container by its handle, "I'm so late."

She grunts as she carries her papers. He makes a face when she leans back to carry the weight, clearly struggling.

Peter releases a breath and chuckles, "but uh-" he takes the papers back from her, "not too late."

"Oh, you don't-"

"No, ma'am, I insist," he says, "I'm guessing you're heading into the main building?"

"Actually," she slowly takes her water container from him, "I'm heading to my car. It's in the lot outside campus."

"Alright then," he smiles, "lead the way."

"Really? Are you sure? Because I really do need help..."

Peter chuckles, "yep. Yes. It's fine."

She smiles and nods, raising her arm forward.

They walk to her car and when they get there, he places the papers in the front seat.

"Thank you so much," she sighs, clutching her jug in her chest, "what's your college? Maybe I can put in good word to your teacher for getting you late."

Peter laughs, "no, it's fine really. I'm, uh, in bio-chem."

She raises a brow, "you wouldn't happen to be a Peter, would you?"

He's surprised, "woah, I am actually."

The woman chuckles, "what a coincidence."

Peter's heart leaps when she says your name and explains you're in her class, introducing herself as Ms. Vasquez. She says you mentioned him just yesterday, as he was the subject in one of your drawings. As quickly as his heart soars, it crashes when she tells him you had gifted her the water container in her hand.

Ms. Vasquez raises it, flaunting the familiar looking thing, "she's such a sweet girl."

That was your container.

"But you know," she adds, "I'm concerned about her. Has she been acting odd lately?"

Peter gulps, his entire body tenses. He can't speak.

"She hasn't been passing her requirements on time, and normally, I wouldn't think much of it, but she's been my student for 5 semesters, and she's never once been late, let alone missed a submission."

He uncomfortably smiles, "she's... I don't -she's going through some stuff."

Ms. Vasquez' brows furrow but she nods, "well I'm glad to know she has you in her life," she pats his shoulder, "thank you again, Peter."

Peter raises his hand in regard as the woman gets into her car. The moment she drives off, he pulls out his phone and calls you.

Except he doesn't call when he catches the 13 missed calls you've left him. His soul nearly slips out of his body as your 'this could have been a text, Parker,' line plays in his head; you hate calling.

He frantically presses his thumbs on your number. His pulse races as he hears the continuous ringing and did-not-pickup beep.

Fuck his 2pm class.

He looks for you all over campus. He checks almost every room in your building before realizing it was a waste of precious time. He revisits all the areas you've taken him, and visits places you've mentioned once before. He goes through the entire campus, then runs around the entire neighborhood.

He goes to your building but the guard to your dorm won't let him in without you there, even though he knew him well. He climbs up the fire exit but you had your curtains drawn and the windows locked. He tries knocking, then debates on breaking the window down. He decides against it.

He goes to the convenience store, the fast food chain, the café, the thrift shop, the bodega, the pharmacy, the record store, all of which you loved, but doesn't find you. He finds himself busting through the arcade you loathed because of how loud it was and the flower shop you scorned because they over-charged you once.

Nothing.

He finds himself busting into Eduardo and Son's Doughnuts, nearly breaking the glass door down with him.

The brothers turn to door and give a chorus of shocked exclamations.

"Jesucristo, hermano!" Eduardo shouts from the counter.

Lorenzo gasps and clutches his chest, leaning toward the register.

"You good, Pedrito?" Chico asks as he stops cleaning the tables.

Peter feels sweat on his neck and back begin to cling on his shirt. He surveys the unusually vacant establishment, finding only 3 customers present.

Chico wipes down the tables with his thick arms and large fingers, "you want an iced strawberry latte, kid? You looked stressed."

"He's in university," Lorenzo chuckles, going back on his phone, "what do you expect?"

Peter shakes his head and waves his hands, asking if they've, by any chance, seen you.

"Ah, yeah," Chico smiles, "she was just here."

"Wait, what?"

Eduardo grins and steps away from his station, pointing at the wall by Peter's side, "she set those up."

Chico and Peter turn to where Eduardo heads.

Peter surveys the wall that was bare just just yesterday. Where once only a small portrait of the brothers' father adorned the space, now had a framed illustration of Eddie and his kids beside a bulletin board where multiple pages were pinned. Most of them, he recognized, were your doodles of Eddie, ripped out of your sketchbook, the others were notes written with different handwriting.

"She asked if she could something to the wall," Eduardo said, "I thought she was gonna put one drawing of dad. I was shocked when she started ripping at her journal. She said... what did she say Chi-"

"Art keeps the memory of those we love alive," Chico raises a finger.

Lorenzo makes a face, "she literally only said art is meant to be shared."

"That's what she meant," Chico eyes his younger brother.

Lorenzo shakes his head and turns to Peter, "she was actually looking for you too."

His stomach drops, "she was?"

"Yeah," Lorenzo puts his phone down and rummages through the drawer behind him. He pulls out something and reaches out to Peter, "she said to give you this if you come."

Peter dashes forward and receives... a Tawagoshi.

"When she left, I realized she didn't think of why just giving it to you tomorrow," Lorenzo says, crossing his lean arms.

Peter looks at him in a panic, "did she say where she was headed?"

Lorenzo is taken aback by his expression, ".... uh... No? She- she didn't."

Just as Eduardo continues to muse about the new wall decorations and how so many people posted their letters to Eddie, Peter busts out of the place, just as roughly as he came in, causing Eduardo and Chico to yell at him in Spanish.

At this point, Peter is full on Spiderman. He puts on his suit and swings through the city. He's on high alert as he goes through each street.

Part of him wants to take thorough looks through every corner of the neighborhood, but his gut was urging him to speed through the avenue, dead set on a destination.

The sun begins to set on New York when he reaches the Manhattan Bridge. He looks down from the pillars of the structure. As the seconds pass, he feels more and more desperate.

He lies on his back and takes off his mask. He takes his phone out and calls you over and over and over.

He wonders if you already did it. He sits up and stares at the river, eyes watering as he imagines your lifeless body floating up the shoreline. He pulls his mask on, tugging it on his head way harder than need.

He realizes he started to cry when his lenses begins to fog. He tugs his mask on and snaps himself out of it. He battles with himself on what he should do next.

He's already off the other side of the bridge when he feels the urge to swing back. He wrestles with himself, unwilling to waste time, but ultimately he succumbs to that urge and perches himself back atop the pillar.

And then, the worst possible flavor of relief washes through him when he sees you. It's cruel how you don't even think twice when you reach the middle of the bridge.

"NO!" Peter yells as you climb onto the railing.

He swings towards you, using his body as a pendulum to reach you faster.

You're already free falling when Spiderman whips himself towards you.

He catches you.

You let out a grunt as your body cracks at the impact.

Peter has and arm and his legs around you, "what are you doing? What are you doing?!"

You look at him, eyes red and puffy. Your voice is hoarse, "S-pidey?"

[bbblues]

the depth of his gaze

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader word count: 2.5k content warning: incest (dad x daughter), dubcon, smut, unprotected sex, cheating (technically)

STROLLING through the busy streets, the city lights cast a warm glow on everything around you. The evening air is cool, and you wrap your coat tighter around you, seeking comfort. Turning a familiar corner, you suddenly pause, your heart skipping a beat. There, across the street, in front of the quaint little café you both love, you see him. Satoru’s there, with another woman.

You watch as they laugh together, her hand casually brushing against his arm. The intimacy between them feels like a dagger to your chest. You take a step back, your mind racing, questions swirling like a storm. Was everything you shared just a lie? Did he mean nothing of what he said to you when you first crossed the line? Were all those nights you spent wrapped around each other just a way for him to get by, until he found himself someone new?

Standing there, hidden in the shadows, you feel a mix of anger, sadness, and betrayal welling up inside you. The woman leans in closer, kissing his cheek, and you feel a sting of jealousy you’ve never known before. You want to confront them, demand answers, but your feet feel rooted to the ground, paralyzed by the sight of them together.

When Satoru’s mad, it’s unmistakable. His playful and relaxed demeanor disappears, replaced by an icy gaze that’s intensified because of his bright blue eyes. The air around him almost seems to tense up, creating an atmosphere that signals he’s not to be trifled with.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, now is one of those times. 

“Who the hell was that?” His voice is low and steady as he speaks, each word cutting through the air like a blade. His hand clutches your arm firmly, and a part of him is surprised that he was able to control his fury when he saw someone else kissing you, right outside your (technically his) home. He had the right mind to scare the guy away by introducing himself, before hauling you inside the house.

You give a sly smile once he questions you. “Oh, Megumi? He’s my boyfriend,” you tell him, meeting his gaze head-on. You can see the anger and jealousy in his eyes, and you revel in it. “Sorry, I wasn’t able to introduce him to you properly. We just couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves.”

Satoru’s grip on your arm tightens, a vein pulsing visibly in his temple.  “Boyfriend?” he scoffs, the word laced with venom. “You think this is some kind of game? Playing around with other men while we’re together?” His eyes bore into yours, those normally playful blue orbs now storm clouds of barely contained rage. He pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper against your ear, “Don’t play coy with me.”

Your smile falters for a moment, momentarily rethinking if you’re doing the right thing, but you regain your composure once flashes of him and that woman appear in the back of your mind. "Oh, Daddy, you’re so sweet,” you say, pulling away from his hold and turning away. “But I think I need to explore my options a bit more.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow dangerously at your words. In a flash, he spins you around and pins your back against the wall, caging you in with his arms on either side. His face hovers just a hair’s breadth away from yours, his hot breath ghosting across your lips. “Let’s be clear about something,” he growls, body pressing flush against yours and trapping you in place. “You belong to me.”

Without warning, he crushes his mouth against yours in a bruising, punishing kiss meant to assert his dominance. One hand grips your jaw in an iron hold while the other slides down your body to your thigh, hitching your leg up around his waist. He grinds against you relentlessly, letting you feel every inch of his desire. When he finally pulls back, he’s disheveled and agitated, burning with unrestrained passion and possession. “And I won’t let anyone else touch what’s mine,” he rasps, biting down hard on your lower lips.

You gasp, your breath catching in your throat as Satoru’s touch ignites a fire within you, despite your better judgment. You try to push him away, but his grip is too strong. “S-Stop it,” you stammer, the words escaping your lips like a plea and a challenge all at once. Your initial defiance nearly crumbles under the intensity of his gaze and the raw power of his kiss. The anger that had fueled you earlier fades into something else entirely — a mixture of fear, arousal, and an undeniable sense of submission. You know he won’t let this go easily; he never does when it comes to what he wants.

Satoru pauses, his head tilting slightly as he listens to your fragmented words. A smirk plays on his lips, an almost mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Stop?” he echoes mockingly. “But why would I stop? You’re enjoying this, baby.”

He leans down and kisses you again, more demanding than before. His tongue explores the cavern of your mouth with practiced expertise, tasting the sweetness of surrender on your trembling lips. His hands wander freely over every inch of exposed skin — tracing circles on your hips that send shivers racing down your spine, tugging gently at the hem of your dress to expose more of your skin, and finally finding his way under it altogether as he kneads the sensitive flesh of your thigh. His fingers move further up to touch your center, rubbing against the fabric of your panties to find them damp, much to his amusement. “I can’t believe I raised such a slut… you’re already wet.”

You try to resist, but the fire within him is too intense; it consumes everything around it, including you. “I’m… I’m not a s-slut,” you whine, even as your hips start to grind down against his fingers minutely, hoping he doesn’t notice.

But Satoru does — of course he does. He’s acutely aware of every sound and every movement when it comes to you, and that’s exactly why he knows you want this. "Oh, but you are,” he purrs, using his other hand to free himself from his slacks then his boxers and letting his hard cock hit his stomach as it stands proudly. He sees the subtle shift of your eyes, looking down at his erection with both desire and longing. “Don’t try to deny it, you slut,“ he murmurs against your skin, tracing lines from your clit to your slit, your underwear soaked in record time. “Tell me… can that Megumi make you feel like this?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. His words, laced with such raw desire and possessiveness, seem to unlock something within you. The last vestiges of resistance crumble away, replaced by a hunger that washes over you like a tidal wave. It’s been weeks since he’s last touched you like this, and so you lean into him, arching your back slightly as his hands move across your body. “N-No… I…” you begin breathlessly, though no coherent words form on your lips. All thoughts are consumed by the heat building between you, amplified tenfold by Satoru’s relentless ministrations.

He takes advantage of this moment of vulnerability, pressing forward with renewed fervor he pulls you even closer until your bodies are skin to skin. His lips move down your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before finding their way to the sensitive flesh beneath your ear. "Let me give you what you really want,” he whispers, his voice husky with satisfaction as you melt further into him. He pulls aside your panties, just enough so he can press his tip against your waiting entrance. “Ready for me?” he asks quietly, but there’s an undeniable edge to his voice — a promise of something wild and untamed waiting just beyond the surface, akin to the first time he had you.

He doesn’t wait for an answer; instead, he lowers himself further until his lips are hovering just above your breast, teasingly nipping at the sensitive nipple before he sinks inside you slowly. 

You moan softly, arching into his touch as a wave of pleasure envelops you. Your hands grip tightly onto his shoulders, digging your nails into the flesh beneath as you try to contain yourself, all while pulling him closer as if you could draw him inside yourself entirely. You don’t even realize that you’re pushing yourself down on his length, hissing at the initial discomfort yet unable to stop yourself from seeking more. “Shit,” you breathe out, the curse expressing both pain and pleasure. “Daddy…”

Satoru groans, a deep rumble in his chest that vibrates through your body. He tightens his grip on your hips, thrusting into you at a steady pace as you gyrate your hips down onto him with an urgency that mirrors his own. “There’s my good girl,” he praises you, savoring the sounds escaping your lips like a prayer. One of his hands slides up to cup your face, tilting it upwards so you can meet his gaze directly while he pounds into you, just the way he knows you like. His eyes are dark and intense, burning into yours with a possessive fire that both terrifies and excites you, though you see a hint of vulnerability there. “You missed me,” he states softly, more than he asks, a stark contrast to his harsh movements.

You can only nod, unable to disregard him or protest. Your mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that you can’t quite comprehend, but each one of them call out to him. “So much,” you whisper back, the words barely audible above the pounding of your heart. 

Satoru doesn’t hesitate. He kisses you deeply again, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as if trying to claim ownership over it entirely. His hands roam freely over your body now — tracing lines along your spine before finding their way down to grab your ass firmly in his grasp. “Me too. I… missed you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips between kisses, his voice rough with desire as he pushes deeper into you. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

It’s the raw honesty of it all that makes you falter for a moment. The jealousy you have been suppressing bubbles up inside of you, hot and suffocating.  “But I saw you…” you say suddenly, pulling back slightly so you can look into his eyes — searching for some hint of remorse or understanding but finding only an unyielding intensity instead. “Weeks ago,” you force yourself to continue despite the tremor in your voice. “With someone else… at that café downtown.”

Satoru freezes mid-thrust, his eyebrows furrowing like he’s deep in thought before his eyes widen as a moment of clarity finally hits. He doesn’t speak for a long moment, simply staring at you to take in your eyes that have begun to tear up. Finally, he leans down and kisses you again — this time softer, more tender than before. “Jealous?” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls back enough to look at you once more. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t I? She… didn’t she kiss you?” you argue back, not relenting this time even as he showers you with more affection. A mixture of hurt and confusion swirl within you, similar to what you felt when you first saw the scene before you.

“She made a move on me,” he explains patiently, almost apologetically, tracing shapes onto your skin because he knows that it always calms you down. “I didn’t encourage it. I made it clear I wasn’t interested… and I even… pushed her away, though she wasn’t too pleased about it.” 

He turns his head, and that’s when you see a scratch, now scabbed over, right by his cheek. 

You bite your lip, a wave of shame (and relief) washing over you. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. I thought you… so I… with Megumi,” you try to explain yourself, but the words just get jumbled up on your tongue. You want to make amends because you hurt him, even using someone else to satisfy your petty pride, yet you’re afraid that it’ll make things worse and that he’ll realize just how awful you are then truly find someone new. “I’m s-sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry…” you sob, shutting your eyes tightly and clinging onto him, as if he’ll disappear at any moment if you didn’t.

“Look at me, my sweet girl,” he says gently, cupping your face in his hands and brushing his thumbs lightly against your cheekbones to clear away the tears that are flowing down them. His gaze is unwavering, neither disappointed nor infuriated. “I’m sorry, too, for not making it more clear to you. You’re the only one that matters to me, the only one I want,” Satoru states resolutely, his lips pecking yours. "Don’t you forget it.” He resumes moving within you slowly at first — testing the waters after your brief exchange — then gradually increasing the pace until you are both lost in a rhythm of passion and need. He wants nothing more than to rid your expression of the lingering hurt and uncertainty in them.

You welcome him back with fervor, the memory of that day slowly fading away like smoke on the wind, replaced only by the raw intensity of your reunion. “Daddy… Daddy, please,” you moan, moving against him to take him deeper. It’s not a plea for mercy; it’s a desperate cry for more — an invitation for him to take you without restraint and to leave no room for doubt, in both your mind and your body.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Satoru deepens his thrusts even further, driving himself into you until there is no space between you but skin and bone and pure, unadulterated desire. He groans against your lips, feeling you respond to him and matching his pace with an eagerness that sets fire to every nerve ending in his body. “Let go, baby,” he urges softly, his gaze locked on yours. “Just let go.”

You whimper in response as every bit of space within you is claimed until you feel like you’re about to burst — and then you cry out for him, clenching around him tightly once the coil inside you quickly unravels.

Satoru follows close behind, grunting into your hair as he spills deep inside you while you hold onto him tightly, even as you ride out the wave of ecstasy that consumes you entirely. He bends forward, to rest his forehead against yours, breathing heavily while savoring the feeling of being so completely connected to you despite the chaos that raged between you prior to this. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

You look into his mesmerizing blue eyes, recognizing how they’re filled with tenderness, but you also see in them something deeper. It’s what you’ve always struggled to decipher when you got older, though you were drawn into it nonetheless, so you return his smile and give him a nod.

He smiles then — a slow, lazy grin that spreads across his face like sunshine breaking through clouds — and it sends another rush of warmth flooding through you. 

Now, you’re sure it must be love.

[dirtybg3confessions]

I appreciate how there's relatively a decent amount of noncon fic for Dark Urge/Gortash but what I really need is Dark Urge nonconning HIM. I need this man debased, degraded, dehumanized, violently and slowly. I need Slayer!form Durge to go absolutely feral in his holes in the worst, most painful ways until he's sobbing and bleeding.

[the-heartlines]

{cregaemma} for @lambsblood

cregan x aemma velaryon (oc little sister of jace velaryon)

dd:dne | 1.1K | underage drugged somno cunnilingus feat. size kink & period kink (ALL the bodily fluids tbh)

“and since he couldn’t fuck her with his cock, he’d take what he could with his fingers, his tongue, his teeth.”

Aemma was finally his, unmoving, unconscious, the drugs he’d snuck into her drink working their magic. He wanted just a taste, to sample his little girl’s sweetness, before her brother got a chance to steal it from him, corrupt her virgin cunt, her untouched womb, with his cum leaking out of it. Because Jace was possessive of his little sister, even more so than her uncle Cregan.

And Jace would kill him with his bare hands if he fucked her before he did, before he asked permission. For Aemma belonged to her brother, her actual blood relative, before him, a feral, mangy wolf who was taken in by Jace’s family when Cregan had lost all of his own.

Cregan laid her small body across his unclean, unmade bed, that stunk of him, his sweat and semen—wanting her soft, innocent smell to dominate it, to linger and stay forever. For he’d chain her to his bed forever, never let her leave his sight, always full of him, his cum, begging him to put a baby inside her.

Cregan palmed his huge erection through his jeans, eyeing her dark hair fanned across her face, rosy freckled cheeks, concealing her lovely plush lips he wanted to kiss, to feel wrapped around the thick head of his meat, while he ruined her throat, robbed her of every ounce of innocence and childhood still rooted inside her.

“Sweet little Aemma,” he brushed her hair from her gorgeous face, smiling big and wide, a wolfish one to match his inner beast that lurked beneath his flesh—dangerous, daring, the devil incarnate. “My little princess.” He kissed her forehead like a father, affectionately, but his lips lingered longer on her skin, like a lover’s, his nose inhaling her scent, savoring every bit of her. 

“My Aemma.” Cregan groans, kissing her fully on the lips, wishing she were awake, wishing she didn’t have to be drugged for him to have her under him like this. He wants to hear her words, her little moans and gasps, her groans and whimpers—her begging him for more or to stop—he didn’t care. He just wanted his Aemma to know that it was him who would corrupt her, taint her, take away her girlhood from her. And since he couldn’t fuck her with his cock, he’d take what he could with his fingers, his tongue, his teeth.

He kisses his way down her throat towards her breasts, teeth enclosing around the first button of her plaid shirt he let her borrow, one her tiny body was swimming in, ripping it from the front of it. He spits it out on the floor, tearing the forest green fleece from her body with his hands, revealing her bare small tits to his starving gaze. 

“Fuck, all for me, huh, little princess?” His hands grope, squeeze, calloused cracked fingertips twist her puffy nipples, gauging her reaction, seeing if she will wake from her sweet dreams. Her long lashes flutter gently against her cheeks, concealing her pretty sparkling doe amethyst eyes from him.

Cregan sucks one hard peak into his mouth, his hands traveling to her waist, unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts, pulling them from her body, his fingers finding the front of her pure white underwear, surrounded by dark pubic hair, soaked through with something warm, messy, red. “Oh fuck, little Aemma, you’ve ruined your pretty panties,” Cregan growls kissing his way down her petite stomach, one he imagines bulging with his wide cock deep inside her guts, with his thick head hitting her cervix, even penetrating the entrance to her tiny womb, giving her all his cum, every ounce, making her take every inch. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so badly, sweet girl. But for now, I’ll just have to taste you.” Cregan takes a deep breath in and out through his nostrils, rubbing his nose along the crotch of her scarlet stained underwear, before licking a wet across her covered pussy, her coppery musk exploding across his taste buds like spectacular fireworks, awakening the beast once and for all. Sliding her panties to the side he begins to lap at her sticky, hairy, bleeding pussy like a hungry wolf, groaning, growling in the back of his throat low and guttural. Undoing his jeans and yanking his veined, uncut dick out, Cregan begins to stroke it with every quick filthy lashing of his tongue against her folds to satiate as much of the creature that wants to rip, ravage, and ruin this sweet young heavenly angel below him. 

And then he hears his princess utter a sigh in her sleep; a quiet soft vulnerable noise that makes his blood sing, heart drum, veins alight with fire. He wishes she’d moan his name, scream it out, sob it for him. But Aemma doesn’t, uttering another’s, one that makes Cregan green with envy, but makes his cock ache unbearably and throb harder.

“Jace,” she whispers, eyes still closed, her hips humping against Cregan’s mouth and he fists his cock faster in his calloused hand, sucking on her clit angrily, wanting to bite into it, use it as his chew toy, because he’s so goddamn furious, but so goddamn aroused. And close, so close.

“Mmm, ahhh,” Aemma moans and Cregan slips his thick middle finger into her hole gingerly, careful not to pop her succulent cherry, her brother’s name on her lips reminding him that Aemma won’t ever be wholly his, that’ll he’ll forever be second to her own flesh and blood, her big brother. 

But as her honorable, loyal dog—wolf—her predator on the prowl, the girl he’s searched for his whole life, he’ll always be there to please his princess, bring her pleasure.

“Mmm, yes sweet princess, come all over your uncle’s face, mark me, claim me! Aemma!” Cregan pants and hums around her pretty clit, beard completely sopping wet with her slick and beautiful blood that he never wants to wash from it. Always smelling of her. His calloused finger crook cruelly into her, anchoring into her like a hook, luring her orgasm from her fast and brutal.

And then his teeth bite into her hardened swollen rosy bud, like a bear trap catching its prey between its sharp steel, sending a shockwave through her drugged out, overstimulated, unconscious body. 

And she’s watering his parched throat, squirting, pissing cum and blood, feeding him and Cregan feasts, lapping up all Aemma’s secretions, grunting, gutturally groaning, spurting all his pent up semen into his own rough hand, wishing he could plug her up with it. Breed her with a litter of pretty pups that would be half his blood and half hers. 

But Aemma is private property, belonging to her elder brother, who dangles his ownership of her around her throat; a collar linked with rusty barbed wire leash, that says: trespassers beware. And Cregan is a trespasser, only allowed to steal his prized possession away for a little while, until they’re both caught, entrapped by the hunter. The master of them both.