#if you feel the feelings in your mouth it is disgust

[chiscaralight]

don't fuck your enemy!

synopsis: you just so happened to end up drunk with your enemy in the club bathroom. what would be more fuck than punching him in the face? fucking him!

includes: nsfw! scara x reader public sex ish. slight degradation. unprotected bathroom sex, p in v sex, mentions of oral sex, reader is under the influence but its all consensual. slight car sex, little bit of regret. this feels new to me, but I absolutely loved writing it! based off a request that I will link here

“scaraaa…”

“quit whining.”

you’re wiggling your hips to him, as he struggles to get his belt off.

“you’re obnoxious. is this how you treat everyone you say you hate? slut.”

“and you’re the one feeding into it. just shut up and-“

the moan you let out is drowned in the music. it’s not loud enough to draw attention, but if anyone else is in the bathroom, they’d definitely hear it. it’s not your fault you’re in this position, after a couple of rounds of shots, this stupid, sexy man wouldn’t stop staring at you in what he says is ‘disgust’. hard to believe when he wasted no time in following through with your advances, pressing you against the stall wall and crashing his lips onto yours.

but yes, you’re a slut for letting him push his cock past your lips, keeping your eyes trained on him as he groaned about how good that felt when you weren’t spewing bullshit, or you nuzzling your head into his hand as he tangles his fingers in your well-done hair.

but no, he’s not a fucking whore for dragging you off the ground and for bunching your short dress up at your hips. nor is he one for pressing his lips against your skin, marking up and down your neck as his fingers glide over your clothed hole before pulling your panties into the side.

you won’t let it get to you now though, because the mixture of the alcohol making your mind spin, with the way the heat from his fingers is dancing around your body, tracing obscure shapes into the fat of your hips before sliding up to cup your breasts is enough to keep any other words out of your mouth, save for his name.

it’s almost insane how good he is because he’s rocking just enough to hit you with enough force, but not enough to shake the plastic frame of the makeshift wall. your hands are finding his wrists, trying to ground yourself to something, anything while he fucks your senses away in the bathroom of some upscale nightclub, trying to ground himself from how good you feel. this has to be wrong on so many levels, fucking you, after everything you’ve said, he’s said, you’ve done, he’s done?

that seems to be the least of your worries now because he can see your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth as he slides a finger into the heat of your mouth. your reactions to his touch are quick, the way you jerk into his hand, or close your lips around his fingers like it was nothing. like it’s what you were made to do. his wet digits now slide back down towards your swollen clit, applying a certain pressure that has you crying out his name with that grating, gorgeous voice of yours. he doesn’t even have it in him to silence you, he’s twitching at the way it rolls off your tongue. fuck, if he knew you’d be this perfect, he would have cut the bullshit and bent you over long ago! but maybe it was more rewarding like this, fleeting memories of all the times he’s pumped his cock to the thought of your face moving through his mind, as your lewd expression brings him back to you.

he’s craning his head the slightest bit to catch your eye. when he does, you smile. and he could cum right then and there from the way your eyes crinkle at the corners through the flush of your cheeks. you mouth out a silent ‘kiss’, and he’s on you in an instant, tongue sliding against yours as the bitter taste of the alcohol finds its way toward him. but he doesn’t care about that. he’s more concerned about the way you’re starting to writhe and shake against him, becoming more and more unsettled with the lack of your own movement. so you do your best to stop him, pushing him off of you as you finally get to breathe. your words come out with a sweet giggle, finger pressing against his chest as your drunken state blurs your vision the slightest amount.

“wanna ride you, pretty boy.”

if anyone who didn’t know the two of you were to for some reason swing this door open now, they’d think the two of you were insatiable lovers who just couldn’t wait to make it home. to anyone that doesn’t know you, they’d probably have to wipe their eyes twice to pretend they weren’t seeing you bounce on scaramouche’s cock like this. he’s seated on the closed toilet lid, absolutely dazed as you ride him to bits. your nails are digging into his shoulders hard, giving you strong balance as you move with a determination even he can’t fathom. but you’ve been dreaming of this, finally getting him to shut up with that pussy or yours, it’s a shame you didn’t get to shove his face in it; but maybe it’s for the best. even in this mindset you know tomorrow is going to be full of headaches and a lot of unanswered questions, so why not enjoy the now? keep anything from getting too far. what exactly is too far you ask? you’re not sure either, because licking into each other's mouths while he fucks up into you would be seen as pretty far for some people.

and he breaks away first, lazy eyes searching yours as he mumbles about his coming orgasm. you’re smiling that stupid smile that makes his dick twitch again, and giving him a polite nod. his eyebrows furrow.

“inside? you sure?”

you’re rolling your eyes at the obscurity of it all. he can ‘discretely’ slide your expensive lace panties into his pocket, press you up against this gross wall, and even fuck you presumably drunk. but cumming inside you is weird.

“yes-yes! i’m sure. just-just hurry up,”

and he’s smacking his teeth at the tone of your voice, hand coming down strong on the swell of your ass while he starts to chase his orgasm. your breaths are shallow, deep with intent as you grind against him, brushing up close to him so you can release in tandem with him.

it works a little too well, because you’re spasming against him in a way that he’s never seen before. your orgasm, plus the feeling of his cum starting to paint your inside white hot with thick spurts is peeling away any reservations you had about this whole situation before, moans loud and cracking as you ride it out for the two of you. his head is hung back, adam’s apple bobbing only a slight bit as he comes to, the soft bite you give it making him snap his head back down before he pinches your thigh. you pout, but begin to get up nonetheless, because you’ve probably spent way too long in here already.

you're much more sober now, trying to ignore the daggers that scaramouche is glaring into your back as you adjust your outfit in the mirror.

"was the sex really that bad?"

the statement is supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out more desperate than anything. you clear your throat, focusing your attention on the paint on the floor instead, dreadfully anticipating how he will bite back this time. but he doesn't. instead, you're greeted with the plush of his lips against yours, hands finding a home on your hips omce again as you grip at his collar. you're moaning into his mouth once more, attempting to slide your tongue against his.

but he pulls away before you can, beelining for the exit door instead. your lips are in a hard pout. as you hear him mumble something about needing to go home. you also happen to catch the part where he more clearly states the exact parking space his car is in right now before letting the door swing shut.

you're alone with your thoughts now. your mind is much clearer, and you're visibly torn between doing the right thing, that is, going back to your friends and enjoying the party like you should've been, or going down and potentially making the same albeit lovely, very rewarding mistake twice. the way the 'fuck it' rolls off your tongue now is a secure answer to what you decide to do, quickly making your way towards where you hope your friends are before announcing that you'll be on your way.

it's been minutes, seven exactly, scaramouche is counting. he shouldn't be here, he should've left immediately he stuck the key in the ignition. but he's waiting rather impatiently, in hopes that you'd find your way down. he knows you're not stupid, he knows you would regret it, hell, he should be regretting it too. but that annoying little feeling in his heart won't let him pull out of the space just yet. and thank archons for that, because he can see the pattern of your dress outside his tinted window as you tap on the glass.

the silence once you get in is stupidly uncomfortable. the air is thick with tension, both of you avoiding each other's gazes as the impact of your previous actions weighs in the air. scaramouche takes the initiative to speak first.

"we should-"

"your windows are tinted. can you eat me out?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"you're absolutely insufferable."

"l-less talking, please."

he'll roll his eyes, but dip his head back down between your legs all the same. you're sprawled out in his back seat, fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue assaults your folds. maybe the first kiss was a mistake, maybe him fucking you aginst the wall was a big mistake. but his fingers sliding into you now? curling just exactly where they should be? there's no mistake here.

[logansluvr]

SUMMER OF ‘72

70s!DBFLOGAN HOWLETT x F!READER

SUMMARY: Logan’s forever grateful to be invited to such intimate family gatherings — he’s even more grateful for the fact that your father insists he stay and relaxes while he runs out to restock on whiskey and cigars.

WARNINGS : age gap (it’s a given Logan’s old asf), pure filth actually, no p in v, dry humping, teasing, marking, a little bit of biting, almost getting caught, a small run on of something that sparked in my mind!

also thank u to everyone who showed love to taste I literally love all of u…. devider credit

“You’re practically family , just make yourself at home.”

He really should feel guilty, disgusted even.

Your father was a kind man, one who opened his arms to the mutant. Treated him normally and began to pull him into the family. It got to a point where Logan was invited to all family events, outings and dinners — so he should feel like shit.

But god how could he when he ends up like this?

The second your father had pulled out of the driveway it was only seconds before Logan went looking for you. Finding you in the depths of your room lying on your bed, dress riding up as you absentmindedly skimmed through a magazine.

He had slipped inside the space and shut the door, the sound causing you to sit up. Your eyes peered up at him through your lashes, that same damn look on your face everytime you looked at him. He had no idea what that look meant but hell would have to freeze over before he told you to stop it.

Within seconds he already has his lips on yours, a force so bruising but so deliciously addictive. He sat on the edge of your bed, hands resting on the exposed skin of your thighs as he lightly bit down on your bottom lip.

The pressure caused you to let out a small huff of pleasure and he took the opening as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Exploring every inch of you as your hands found purchase on his shoulders, catching the taste of cigars and whiskey lingering on his tongue.

Logan pulled back and his half lidded eyes stared back at your own before he began to kiss down your cheek to your jaw. His hands slid under and up your dress and his large hands squeezed the flesh of your ass.

Hard enough to make you whimper into his mouth, a satisfied sigh leaving his nose before your hands tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. At the motion he used his teeth the graze the skin under your jaw.

You could feel the subtle scrape of his facial hair as he pressed heated kissed along your neck down to your collarbone. Your hips subconsciously rocked forward when he teethed at a spot on your neck — the movement making him groan into it.

You could feel the noticeably large bulge in his jeans, wearing nothing but a pair of panties under your dress. Panties that began to form a slight damp spot as you tried to desperately repeat the motion.

One of his hands held onto your hip, tight enough to stop you from moving while his other hand moved towards the neckline of your dress. It wasn’t extremely low, but it wasn’t high at all and it gave him the perfect amount of room to tug the fabric down.

He pulled it down enough so your nipples weren’t exposed, just about teetering on the edge of it as he lowered his mouth to the newly exposed skin. Without warning he bit down and you cried out, hips jerking forward only to be stopped by his harsh grip.

As quick as the sting came it was soothed quickly by the warmth of his tongue. You felt the sting again and the feeling made you tug harshly at the hair between your fingers. Logan’s head jerking back with something of a moan at the feeling of you pulling on his hair.

“Logan.” Your voice was full of need, a need for him. And instead of responding to you he continued to suck his way around your chest, grinning against it as he felt your hips twitch in desperation.

The damp spot on your panties seemed to grow by the minute and Logan could smell the arousal dropping off of you. It was overwhelming, the scent of how bad you needed him, the tiny breathless whimpers that were leaving your lips — he could feel his restraint slipping.

“Pleas- mm.” You squirmed on his lap pleading with him before managing to trap his lips against yours for a moment. “Nu-uh sweetheart, not now.” Both of his hands returned to your hips, and he watching with taunting eyes as you pouted.

Watching your face carefully he lifted his hips up the slightest and he watched as your brows pinched at the feeling. “Lo-“ Logan’s hand tangled in your hair, pressed right against the scalp and he tugged. Your head tilted up just enough for his breath to mingle with yours.

“M’not gonna fuck you sweetheart. Not now. For now you’re gonna take what I give you.” You nodded, anything was good, perfect even. Logan watched the desperation in your eyes with a grin, his sweet girl always wanted him and he made sure of that.

His hands adjusted themselves on your hips under your dress, the fabric bunched up around his hands. Logan spread his legs nudging yours further apart pulling you upwards so you hovered over him. He made quick work of unlatching his belt and pushing his jeans to his ankles.

“Can’t have ya making a mess on em.” Was all he muttered before pulling you back down. Your clothed clit was sat right against the large bulge in his underwear, slick beginning to seep onto the fabric.

Leaning forward you crashed your lips into Logan’s, tongues meeting each other before you felt his hands push your hips forward sliding against his painfully hard cock. Your clit dragged against it, the feeling making you let out a moan into Logan’s mouth.

He grunted whilst slipping his hands back to the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh with a harsh grip. Your hips moved on their own, as you moved them forward Logan raised his hips to meet your movements.

The friction was addictive and the breathy whines and whimpers spilling past your lips was proof. Logan pulled his lips from yours set on the exposed skin of your chest, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin had you rocking back and forth at a better pace.

Logan’s hips rocked upwards to further the pleasure between you two — relishing in the way he could feel the slick dripping from your cunt onto his clothed cock. The fabric between you was damp and a mix of his pre-cum and your arousal.

His eyes strayed down and he couldn’t help the primal groan that left his lips at the sight of your panties so sticky and slippery they stuck to your aching pussy.

“That’s it.” He cooed all whilst distracted by the sight.

Your fingernails were digging into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent moons in their wake and it was times like these that made him despise his ability to heal.

The room was filled with nothing but heavy pants, breathy moans and groans along with the sound of your bed creaking ever so slightly.

Logan’s eyes remained on the sight between your thighs and one of his hands slid up your back, pushing your head down a bit so your eyes were also redirected to the intoxicating sight.

A moan fell out involuntarily and the friction on your aching clit was causing your lower abdomen to heat up, desperate hole clenching around nothing. It was almost like he could sense it too, the way the ends of his lips tugged upwards for a moment.

“I know baby.” His other hand trailed up and down your thighs in a false attempt to soothe. Though all it did was leave goosebumps despite how hot it was in your room. “Please Logan.”

You practically cried it out, you’d take anything he would give you but being like this only made your want for him grow more. You wanted to feel all of him.

The thoughts swirling in your head caused you to slow momentarily but before you could say anything you felt a stinging sensation on your ass. The shock causing you to cry out and your hips moved forward from the impact.

Logan’s hands returned to your waist in a harsh grip, now controlling all your movements. “Greedy girl huh? Can’t even take what I give you without askin for more?” His words came out gritted through his teeth, his pace a little harsher than your own.

And you tried to apologize, you really did but all that came out of your mouth was a moan. One so sweet it nearly had him slipping through his restraints, one that nearly made him flip you over and just shove himself deep inside of you.

But he just had to remind himself why he hadn’t yet. You weren’t ready for all of him just yet, and he didn’t want to ruin his plans by being impulsive like that.

“I-mmg- I’m sorry s’just-“ you stumbled over your words as you were being pushed to the edge. “Feels good.” Logan’s head lulled forward, forehead resting on your chest as he felt his cock twitch.

He could smell how close you were to gushing all over his lap — but he nearly came before you when his name rolled off your lips in an angelic moan. “M’gonna-“ you tried to get out, but Logan already knew.

“Go ahead sweetheart, cum all over my lap.” His voice was lower before he bit down on a part of your exposed chest. The feeling enough to send you over the edge and your head tossed back, eyes pinching shut as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave.

It made your abdomen tighten and your toes curled, the feeling so overwhelming especially as Logan continued to rock your hips over his. You trembled above him as your head spun from your orgasm, your head falling forward and you dug your face into his neck.

Your whines from the overstimulation were muffled but there was just enough space between you two for Logan to watch the copious amounts of slick gush out onto his lap.

The sight alone made him feel like he was gonna cum, and in a split second he began to drag you faster over his cock. The pace made you jerk and Logan was vocal the second he felt your teeth biting his skin.

It was only there for a second before the only thing left over was the slight ache. “Fuck- do it again sweetheart.” You let out something of an exhale mixed with a giggle.

The sweet sound and the feeling of you biting down harder, purposely, made His hips abs tighten and his cock twitch under you before you felt the warm ropes of cum seeping through the fabric between you both.

His hands slowed their control of your hips, but didn’t stop completely. Logan letting out a sigh and your head lifted from the crook of his neck — eyes moving to the mess of cum between you both.

Logan’s fingers tilted your chin away from the sight ( as much as he loved to watch you watch the mess you both made ) and he placed a sweeter less hungrier kiss onto your lips.

His lips were shockingly soft against yours and you melted into it. It was short but sweet and when you pulled back his thumb ran over your sensitive clit, covered in sticky material.

A smirk on his face as he lightly patted it before flipping your dress back down. And just as casually as he had slipped in your room — he had dressed you both and slipped out of it just as the front door had opened.

“I’m back!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

thanks for reading it not so sure that I’m gonna make taste a series, however it may be apart of a larger collection….😏

[myladybelle]

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter fourteen

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.9k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, swearing, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thanks again for your patience everyone!! i know it’s been a month since the last update but my extracurriculars and class load this semester are insane and i sometimes only get home at 9:30pm so i don’t have too much down time to write x 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐙-𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍. 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 – 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟑𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗. 𝟎𝟑:𝟏𝟓𝐏𝐌.

Tashi couldn’t believe she was standing in the back alley of a hotel with Patrick Zweig. She had been hiding in the hotel lounge for the last half hour because she knew you were upstairs meeting Lily for the first time, and the last thing Tashi wanted was to ruin that. It was better to strategise against Art’s future opponents and ignore the sharp pain in her chest than to think about you meeting her daughter without her. 

Patrick coming by to talk to her was her last straw. Tashi didn’t hide her irritation, nor how unimpressed she was with what Patrick had made of his life. All that talent and privilege was wasted on him. Scanning him up and down, Tashi made no effort to hide her disdained frown. 

“I’m going to propose something to you,” Patrick declared. He exhaled, sending a cloud of cigarette smoke to Tashi’s face. 

She jerked back. “Can you blow it away from me, please?” 

“Sorry.”

Tashi rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how Y/N put up with the smoking,” she mentioned off-handedly. “She used to say it was the single most disgusting thing a person could do.”

“I never did it while she was around, and I quit the year she won Wimbledon,” Patrick defended himself. “Started up again the night we broke up. Anyway, I want you to be my coach.” 

Tashi turned her whole body to face Patrick and stared. Even though he wore his typical entertained smirk, Tashi knew he was being serious. “What?” she exclaimed, unimpressed. 

“Even if he wins the Open, completes his career Grand Slam, Art’s still gonna retire as someone who’s just really, really good,” Patrick pointed out. “That’s what you guys will have done together.” As Tashi felt her blood boil with anger, she inched closer to Patrick and didn’t bother to keep the incredulous expression off her face. “But imagine if you could turn Patrick Zweig into a guy who wins a slam. I still have a season. I still have one good season, and I need you to bring it out of me.” By the end of his speech, Tashi’s mouth was slightly agape. Her eyes were comically wide, wondering how and why Patrick could feel so entitled to ask this of her. “So… what do you think?” He smiled expectantly, placing the cigarette back between his lips. 

Tashi reached out and slapped him across the face. The cigarette flung from his mouth to the ground from the impact, and Tashi held back from hitting him a second time. “How fucking dare you?” she exclaimed.

From the pain, Patrick groaned, “Jesus Christ!” 

“You want my best piece of advice? Do you want me to coach you?” Tashi goaded him, fixing him with a withering stare. “Okay, quit,” she ordered. “Quit right now. Right the fuck now, quit.”

“You know that when I’m good, I’m one of the best in the world.”

“You are 271st best in the fucking world,” Tashi corrected him. “Everyone forgot about you, Patrick. The only reason anybody knew or cared about you was because of Y/N. Back then, you were her sweetheart. And even if you weren’t playing at your best, it was a hell of a lot better than you’re playing now.”

It was a jab in the gut for Patrick, but he had expected it. He had a better ranking ten years ago, but Patrick hadn’t cracked the top 200 in several years. Realistically, he had no reason to expect Tashi to agree to coach him. The only time he was truly one of the best players in the world was in the Junior League, and that was a lifetime ago. The tennis world hadn’t cared about Patrick Zweig since word got out that you broke up; they weren’t about to start caring now that he was at the end of his mediocre, unmemorable career. 

“I still have a shot,” Patrick protested. It would have been more accurate to say I still want to win her back.

Her eyebrows raised. “You’re 31. You have a better shot with a handgun in your mouth,” Tashu accused. She knew it was crude and unfair, but she was at her wits end with him. 

Patrick scoffed and laughed at the same time. 

Despite everything they’d gone through, he liked it when Tashi was mean. Not only did it feel more authentic to who she was, but it meant he had her attention. Most people would have just walked away. You would have just walked away. You would have told Patrick that he wasn’t worth your time and kept your emotions out of it. That’s just the type of person you were. You could keep her calm on the court and in your personal life, but Tashi’s temper always ran a little hotter than that of her former best friend. 

“I mean, why don’t you go home?!” Tashi wondered. “Go home, ask your parents for a seat on the board, or you know what, matter of fact, ask them for some money. Okay? Go be like any other spoiled kid who has ever amounted to nothing in their fucking life, and stop this performance of being a down-on-your-luck professional!”

The amused grin slipped from Patrick’s face, hardening his expression as he lowered his eyes to the ground. It was a low blow, and it only made Patrick think of how he lost you all those years ago. You can still make something of yourself, you used to say. Forget your family and forget people’s expectations. You were born to play tennis, and you deserve to have your shot at greatness. 

It had been a long time since Patrick heard that kind of encouragement. 

“Tashi–”

“–No, you’re not 20 years old anymore,” she interrupted him. “And it’s not cute to be walking around pretending like you need to grind it out at these bumfuck tournaments, and sleep in your fucking car! And it is–” Tashi scoffed, holding a finger up to emphasise her words– “Unforgivable that you would ask me to devote a single second of my fucking time to help you achieve your fucking dreams! What dreams, Patrick?” Slightly out of breath from her rent, Tashi paused and waited for Patrick to give any indication that he had dreams or goals for himself. “You never had any!” 

Regardless of the truth in Tashi’s words, it was unfair of her to act like he never had dreams. Perhaps tennis had always been a way for Patrick to avoid a regular job and stop relying on his parents, but he had dreams outside of his career. All the things Art wanted—kids, marriage, success, happiness—Patrick wanted them to. But above everything, Patrick wanted you. 

You were the one who rejected his proposal. If everything had gone his way, he would be with you now. A small voice in the back of Patrick’s head reminded him that he was the one who walked out that night and ended your relationship, but clear thinking had no place in Patrick Zweig’s mind, so he cast it aside. 

“Is that what you and Art are doing?” Patrick asked sarcastically. He was tired of Tashi’s preaching and wanted to remind her of the reality of her own marital situation. “Living the dream?” The words permeated mockery and smug gratification.

Tashi laughed shortly. “That is exactly what the fuck we’re doing.” 

Patrick nodded slowly, lips pressed together as he searched every inch of Tashi’s face. “Then how come he’s still hung up on Y/N?” The anger fizzled out of Tashi’s eyes, replaced with a bout of raw emotion she couldn’t keep under wraps. Pure, unadulterated vulnerability spread across her face, hinting at Art’s ongoing love for you. “Maybe the two of you really are living the dream on the outside, but you know he still loves her. The rest of the world might not know it, but I can see right through your perfect marriage act. He’s practically a shell of himself.”

“I think you might be projecting,” Tashi retorted, not wanting to give Patrick the satisfaction of knowing he was right. “Your entire world might revolve around the fact that Y/N didn’t want to marry you, but some of us have moved on with our lives,” she added. “And our careers.”

“Right.” Patrick chuckled, unconvinced by her tough facade. “Does he ever say her name instead of yours?” he wondered, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. “When it’s really late at night, and he’s tired from practice. Does he lie in your shared bed and tell you good night, and he loves you, but then he calls you Y/N? Because exhaustion is a little bit like truth serum sometimes.”

“What, are you jealous?” Tashi taunted. “Do you wish the last thing Art thought about before closing his eyes was you? After all, it’s been a long time since you used to push your hotel beds together and fall in love with the same girl.”

Patrick grinned, wondering, “If your life with Art is so perfect then how come you hate him?” Tashi paused, leaning back to put some distance between herself and Patrick. “You do. It’s obvious, you do.” Sighing, Tashi looked away and clenched her jaw with irritation. “You can feel him giving up already, even though you know he’s not going to retire until you let him.”

“He is a grown man–” Tashi reminded him. 

“–Sure–”

“–He can do whatever he wants!”

“Sure, but he doesn’t. He does whatever you want,” Patrick argues. “Except now, he’s not even pretending to like it.” Tashi sighed, inching closer as he continued to pick apart her picture of the perfect married family. Patrick was right, Art was done with tennis. Everyone could see it. “He’s dreaming about eating hamburgers again. Watching your daughter, um–” Patrick snapped his fingers– “Uh, Lily, grow up. Maybe doing some commentary on the Tennis Channel. He’s ready to be dead. And you’re starting to realise you might not want to be buried with him, ’cause who is he to you if he’s not playing tennis?” 

Tashi’s jaw tightened as she clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms. Her chest rose and fell with deliberate, shallow breaths, trying to steady herself, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her frustration. She could feel Patrick’s eyes on her, the smugness barely concealed behind his neutral expression, as though he didn’t feel self-righteous for seeing through the facade of her and Art’s marriage. Her brow furrowed, lips pressed tightly together.

“So that’s what you think he is to me?” Tashi realised angrily. “A racket and a dick.”

For a moment, Patrick said nothing. Then, “Does Art know about Atlanta?” Tashi’s breath caught in her throat, icy tendrils of shock creeping down her spine as his words echoed in her ears. She shivered, her eyes widening as she stared at him, suddenly exposed. “You keep saying you came here because Art needed matches. I think you came for something else,” Patrick continued.

A sharp, disbelieving laugh burst from Tashi’s lips, sounding foreign even to her ears as she shook her head in disbelief. The absurdity of the moment overwhelmed her, and she let out another incredulous chuckle, her eyes narrowing as if to ask, Are you serious? “You think I came here for you?” she cried out. “You think I came here to throw it all away–” Tashi motioned her hand in a circle for emphasis– “For you?”

Patrick’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, his lake-blue eyes glinting with a quiet confidence that unsettled Tashi. It was as if he held some unspoken truth, something lurking beneath the surface, and the certainty in his expression made her stomach twist in uneasy anticipation. “No, I’m not stupid enough to think you did all this for me. Like always, this is about Y/N,” Patrick revealed. “In one way or another, she’s the one that got away. I don’t expect you or Art to give up on her just because so many years have passed. Just like I’m not going to give up on her.”

Tashi rolled her eyes. “So, what? You think me coaching you is going to help both of us get on Y/N’s good side?” She shook her head sadly, her throat tightening as a familiar lump rose, making it hard to swallow. The weight of what they had done hung between them and you like an unbridgeable chasm, and Tashi knew there was no way to mend what they’d broken. “What we did is unforgivable. Maybe Art could get over it, but we slept together the night you broke up with her, knowing it would break her heart.”

“Maybe that would change if she just saw me,” Patrick suggested. 

“She has seen you. You look like shit,” Tashi retorted dryly. She started to walk past Patrick, her steps quick and determined, but just before she could leave him behind, she stopped and turned sharply. “You're an even bigger idiot than I thought if this is your plan to get her back,” Tashi said, her voice low but commanding, drawing his full attention as she stood her ground. “She’d have to fall in love with Art all over again to be with him, and you know she will if he becomes a part of her life again.” She motioned to the hotel. “She’s upstairs right now meeting Lily for the first time.”

Patrick smiled dejectedly, the corners of his mouth barely lifting as he wondered if it was finally time to give up, the fight draining from his eyes. “So you think I should quit on her?” he asked.

“Don’t you get it?” Tashi wondered exasperatedly. “With Art, she has to get to know him and fall in love with him a second time. With you, she just has to admit that she still loves you,” she explained. 

“I’m going to beat him,” Patrick declared, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “If we both make it to the final, I’m going to beat him.” 

Tashi met his gaze and held it, her eyes softer than they had ever been, hoping he could see the flicker of honesty she usually kept hidden. For the first time, there was a quiet sympathy there that she had never given him. “Even if you could beat him, it wouldn’t change anything,” she corrected him. 

“It’ll break him. You know it will,” Patrick replied. If Patrick beat Art in a match, Art would feel like he lost you all over again. It would be his final strike, and he’d never play a game of tennis again. More importantly, the part of Art that always longed to reconnect with Patrick and you would be shattered past the point of return.

“It won’t make you. Okay? It’s too late for that,” Tashi pointed out. “And it definitely won’t win you Y/N back. Not being a tennis champion will always be your insecurity; your problem with your relationship. Not hers. You wanted to beat Art, but she just wanted you.” 

𝟎𝟓:𝟑𝟎𝐏𝐌.

After finishing the movie with Art and Lily, the three of you ordered room-service ice cream before you excused yourself. Reconnecting with Art had been great, but you weren’t ready to face Tashi yet. 

Exiting the elevator, you felt your heart leap in your throat when a voice greeted you, “So you’ll talk to Art but not me?”

“Jesus Christ, Patrick,” you yelped. Your heart raced at the sight of Patrick leaning casually against the wall, a familiar yet unwelcome presence. His expression was a mix of anticipation and apprehension, as if he had been waiting to talk to you but feared what you might say. “What are you doing here?” you asked, stepping out of the way of people entering the elevator. 

“Actually, I was just talking to Tashi,” Patrick confessed. 

Your features smoothed into impeccable neutrality, not giving a single emotion or thought away. “I didn’t know the circus was in town—guess I missed the memo,” you quipped, unimpressed at the thought of your ex and ex-best friend getting together.

When Patrick laughed, your heart stopped; it was painstakingly familiar, just as boyish and uninhibited as the day you first met him. It was almost painful how easy it was to fall back into old habits with Patrick as you forced yourself not to smile or react. 

“That’s cute,” he mumbled, tucking his hands into his pockets. “But seriously, you and Art are friends now?”

“Art has a lot less to be sorry for than you do,” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. 

Maybe it was residual anger from talking to Tashi, but Patrick didn’t like that you chose to make up with Art instead of him. He searched your face for understanding, mind racing with images of you laughing with Art, the intimacy you shared lingering like a spectre between you. How could you move past your issues with Art while Patrick felt tethered to his mistakes? 

As Patrick stood before you, he felt a knot of insecurity tightening in his stomach, the words tumbling from his mouth with an edge of desperation. “Okay, fine. You’re right, sleeping with Tashi the night we broke up was wrong, but I proposed and you said no. Why am I the bad guy?” he questioned, his voice barely masking the hurt beneath. 

Your heart ached at the thought that he believed you were at fault for your relationship ending, the weight of his accusation pressing down on your chest like a heavy stone. As memories of that night flooded back—Patrick’s tense expression, the ultimatum hanging in the air like a guillotine—tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your hands trembled as you fought to steady yourself, each breath coming shallow and uneven. 

“Did you forget how I begged for your understanding that night, how shattered I was by your ultimatum?” you questioned, voice hoarse and quiet with emotion. The injustice twisted in your gut, leaving you feeling raw and heartbroken, as if the wounds of your past were being reopened. “I begged you to change your mind, I begged you to give me time and keep dating because I didn’t want to break up. But you would rather end our relationship or force me to do something I wasn’t ready for.”

“‘Force’ you?” Patrick echoed. “I was in love with you, I wanted to start my future with you! You couldn’t even give me a reason why you didn’t want to get married!”

“You couldn’t give me a good reason as to why we should get married,” you argued pointedly. “It was so sudden and you were in such a bad place, I just felt like the entire proposal was driven by your insecurities and fears rather than what it should be about: us wanting to spend our lives together.”

Patrick stiffened at your mention of his insecurities, a grip of vulnerability wrapping around him as he felt himself freeze. The old fear surged back, a familiar ache in his chest, making him acutely aware of how exposed he was to you. You could always see through the carefully constructed walls Patrick had built around himself, just as he could see through yours. When he first met you, it was one of the reasons Patrick fell in love with you. Now, after everything you’d been through together, it was terrifying. 

He swallowed hard, the sting of anxiety creeping in. “I asked you to marry me and you said no. Forgive me if I felt a little insecure and needed to know that you actually wanted to be in this relationship,” Patrick replied. 

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” you insisted. “And I never said no! I said I needed time; I needed to process.”

“If it’s not a yes, it’s a no,” Patrick disagreed with you. 

“You see–” you gestured to Patrick with your hands for emphasis– “This is why we broke up! I never said no! I said that I loved you and that I wanted nothing more than to marry you and have a family someday, but you…” Groaning, you buried your face in your hands and muttered, “God, I can’t believe we’re doing this in public.” You dropped your hands and met Patrick’s tearful blue-green gaze. “You were already done with me.”

“I was ‘done’? By proposing to you, I was ‘done’?”

“No, by not waiting for me to be ready, you decided you were done! I wasn’t asking for our relationship to end, I was asking for time to get my thoughts together and stop freaking out so that I could make a choice! But you made that choice for me when you told me that I had to marry you or you were breaking up with me,” you explained. “My whole life before Stanford, someone else was making choices for me. I always thought that you of all people understood that,” you admitted, referencing your controlling mother and his overbearing parents. “But then you threw it back in my face and told me it was now or never; it had to happen or you were leaving. And no matter how much I loved you, I knew that you had given up. Because if you were truly still in it, if you truly still loved me, you would have known that given the choice, I would have picked you.”

Patrick nodded, pressing his lips together. “You were at the top of your game, and I was struggling,” he admitted. “I needed you to believe in me.”

Your chest tightened at Patrick’s words, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than you expected. “I did believe in you,” you promised desperately. “How could you think I didn’t? I always saw your potential, I always wanted you to succeed.” Your heart ached at the thought that Patrick felt so alone in his struggles. “I was building my career too, and we were both busy. But I always showed up for you.”

Patrick let out a bitter, sad laugh, the sound hollow and laced with disappointment as he struggled to reconcile the memories of what you once shared with the reality of your fractured relationship. “Yeah, and I was always the one who got left behind. You didn’t care what others said about us, did you?”

“Of course I did!” Your voice cracked from the effort of your cry. “I knew it hurt you, but none of those people knew us! I knew you, and I believed in you and our relationship, no matter what other people said.”

“Then why couldn’t you say yes? Why couldn’t you just take that leap with me?”

“Because I wanted to be sure! I didn’t want to rush into something I wasn’t ready for,” you repeated. 

It felt like the two of you were going in circles, each sentence looping back to the same painful points, as if you were trapped in an unending spiral. You could see the frustration etched on Patrick’s face, and you felt your own simmering beneath the surface. Every attempt to clarify your feelings seemed to muddy the waters further, leaving you more entangled in your past. Patrick sighed, the heaviness of your unspoken emotions hanging in the air. You wondered if you would ever find a way to break free from this exhausting cycle or if you were destined to remain forever locked in this dance of hurt.

“So, you thought I’d just stand there, waiting for you to figure it out? You thought you could just put your life on pause while I tried to keep up?” Patrick asked.

“No, but you weren’t patient. You gave up on us the moment you proposed without understanding what it really meant for me,” you argued. “You could have waited. You could have let me come to you in my own time. But instead, you made it all about your insecurities.”

Patrick’s breath grew shaky, each inhalation trembling as he struggled to maintain his composure, and your heart sank at the sight. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the unshed tears threatening to spill over. “Then how come every time I picked up a racket, I thought of you?” he asked. “How come every match I played, I wanted to win just so that—for once—you could be proud of me the way I always was of you?”

“Because you were the one who wanted to prove everyone wrong! I just wanted you, no matter what people thought,” you replied steadily. “I didn’t care about you winning, I cared about your happiness. I cared that you were being so hard on yourself just because Art joined the tour and was playing better than you. I cared so much it hurt! But you didn’t see that. You were too busy drowning in your own doubts to see how much I loved you.”

“You could’ve said yes, Y/N,” Patrick insisted. He shook his head, unable to let go of this one point that had plagued him for the last eight years. “You could’ve shown me you believed we could make it work.” You sniffled, choking back tears. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should’ve waited. But that doesn’t change the fact that I loved you enough to want to spend my life with you.”

“And I loved you too,” you reminded him. “But I would have waited a lifetime for you, and you couldn’t even spare me a minute.” Patrick finally let a tear slip down his cheek before wiping it away furiously as if trying to erase the evidence of his vulnerability. Your heart ached at the sight, realising that, even after everything you had been through, he still wouldn’t fully open himself up to you. “I guess sometimes it doesn’t matter how much you love each other. It’s just not enough.”

𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 – 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟒, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟏. 𝟏𝟐:𝟏𝟎𝐀𝐌.

Patrick sat on the edge of the bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the small velvet box in his trembling hands. He had wanted to propose to you for over a year, ever since he purchased the ring and slipped it into his pocket. But as he sat there, heart racing and mind swirling, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed. You had skyrocketed to fame and success, your career blossoming in ways everyone except you had anticipated—given your incredible talent, hard work, and tenacity to keep improving—while his professional trajectory felt like a slow descent into mediocrity.

As a former junior champion, Patrick had always been compared to Art, who now stood at the pinnacle of the tennis world. Their history together on the court had been golden, two young stars lighting up the doubles scene, but Art’s transition to the professional circuit had been nothing short of meteoric. With his years of training and playing at Stanford, Art had an army of supporters behind him and an incredible team of professionals helping him succeed. He had come onto the scene with finesse and skill that Patrick struggled to match.

Everyone had been right: coasting on talent wasn’t enough in the professional world. 

The media was all too eager to draw comparisons between them, framing Patrick as the one left behind, overshadowed by his former best friend’s rising stardom and his gorgeous grand-slam-champion girlfriend.

Tonight had to be the night Patrick proposed. No other night would do; this was his final chance. It was after midnight, and technically the early morning of the Atlanta Open’s men’s singles final. Patrick felt the weight of impending doom more than anyone else. He knew Art was going to win; everyone did. Art was the brand new golden boy of the American tennis world, keeping up with seasoned players such as Andy Roddick and Mardy Fish. The thought made Patrick clench the ring box tighter. 

Every glance at the ring brought about a fresh wave of doubt. Would you even want to marry someone who was struggling to keep up? You had blossomed into an extraordinary athlete, and every time you spoke of your achievements, Patrick felt a knot tightening in his chest. He loved you fiercely, but the shadows of his insecurities loomed with each passing day. What if you realised you could do better? What if you decided that Art—brilliant, talented, and successful Art—was the man you deserved? The one you truly loved?

It didn’t matter that Art and Tashi were engaged; Patrick was sure Art would drop his fiancée in a heartbeat if he could have you instead.

Shaking his head, Patrick hoped to shake the negative thoughts from his mind, too. He had pictured this moment countless times, but now that the moment had come, he was filled with terror. Patrick stood, pacing the room as excitement and fear swirled in his stomach. His insecurities were at an all-time high, and he felt isolated because he’d been keeping them from his girlfriend. But all Patrick could wonder was how he could propose to you when all he could think about was how far behind he was in the race they were running together? The comparisons to Art haunted him as he silently rehearsed his proposal.

He had to do it before the men’s finals happened in the afternoon, before you realised just how much better Art was than him. Patrick had to be the person who lifted you up. He couldn’t be the one who held you back from being great.

You pushed open the door to your shared hotel room, exhaustion etched into your features as you stepped inside, your shoes pattering softly against the polished floor. You had spent the entire day arranging press engagements for Patrick, switching between arranging interviews and photo ops and phone calls with Elora, who was helping Patrick out for free. You had gone through all this effort to support him during the Atlanta Open, even after he flew out in the penultimate round. 

As you walked through the door, you let out a long sigh, shedding the weight of the day like a heavy coat, and saw Patrick leaning against the wall, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and inviting. Patrick was proud of how calm and normal he sounded, given how he had raced to throw the ring box in his duffel when he heard your key card swipe against the keypad of your room door. “Long night?” he added sympathetically. 

You nodded, running a hand through your hair, which had fallen out of its perfect style throughout the evening. “You have no idea,” you replied, your tired eyes sparkling just for him. “It feels like I’ve been on the phone for hours talking to people who only treat me nicely when they realise who I am. I hope they’re nicer to Elora when she calls,” you mumbled. “But I’m here now,” you said happily. Wrapping your arms around Patrick’s middle, you hugged your boyfriend tightly and greeted him with a kiss. “How was your night?”

“Terrible,” Patrick replied, nuzzling his nose against your cheek and sighing happily. “My girlfriend up—being the selfless and perfect creature that she is—was gone all day and I missed her very much.” 

You chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear,” you joked. With a startled yelp, you held onto Patrick’s waist as he swapped your positions, pressing you against the wall. You recognised the hungry, desperate look in his lake-blue eyes and smirked. “Wow, you really did miss me,” you mused, resting your head against the wall and admiring your handsome boyfriend. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Patrick replied smoothly. “I always miss you when you’re gone. I’m like a golden retriever with separation anxiety.”

You grinned. “I missed you too, Pat,” you promised. There was a shift in the atmosphere. A nervous energy crackled in the air that hadn’t been there in the morning. You studied Patrick’s expression closely, searching for any clues that might explain the sudden gravity of the moment, your brow furrowing with concern. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and confidence, now held a flicker of uncertainty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was going on. “Is everything okay?”

Patrick felt the weight of the ring box pressing down on his mind, an unyielding reminder of what he had planned. “Y/N,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Or, rather, ask you something.”

Your expression shifted from fatigue to surprise, your eyes widening as you registered the sudden seriousness in his tone. “You know you can ask me anything,” you encouraged Patrick, your curiosity piqued. Your exhaustion was forgotten, replaced with pure intrigue.

With every nerve in his body screaming at him, Patrick felt the world around him fade away. His palms grew clammy against the wall on either side of your body, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. A wave of nausea washed over him, tightening his stomach as Patrick wrestled with his doubts and insecurities. His mind screamed at him not to do it, warning him that this was a mistake, but deep down, he knew he had to push past the fear.

He needed you to say yes. He needed to grasp onto this moment like a lifeline, believing that getting engaged could fix the uncertainty that loomed over him and his career.

“I know this might seem sudden, but I love you, and I can’t imagine my life without you,” Patrick said slowly, enunciating carefully so you wouldn’t misunderstand. Encouragingly, you cupped his face and nodded for him to go on. The light touch of your fingertips made Patrick shiver, momentarily halting his proposal. Then, he stammered, “W-Will you marry me?”

The air hung heavy with anticipation, and time seemed to stand still as you stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, caught off guard by his unexpected proposal. The sparkle of pure affection in your eyes faltered, replaced by a bewildered look that sent a jolt of anxiety through Patrick. 

He had imagined this moment for so long, picturing a wave of relief washing over him when he asked the question. But now, standing before you, all he could feel was dread, a heavy weight settling in his chest that made it hard to breathe. The uncertain glint in your eyes only deepened his fears, a contrast to the joy he thought he’d see reflected back at him. Instead of the excitement and agreement Patrick expected, he was met with doubt, and it clawed at his insides like a dark, gnawing fear. Each second felt like hours, and Patrick was just about ready to snap under the weight of his insecurities.

“Patrick…” you started, your voice trailing off, as if searching for the right words to piece together what was happening. Your hands dropped slowly from his face in shock. The surprise painted across your face was palpable, and Patrick felt his heart drop when you—his girlfriend—said his full name instead of your beloved nickname for him. 

In that instant, the warmth and excitement he had envisioned for this proposal flickered, leaving only the raw vulnerability of his heart laid bare before you.

[l1tw1ck]

Diluc's Fantasy

Bottom!FTM!Omega Diluc x Top!AMAB!Alpha Reader

🍇 Word Count: 1,938 🍇

AFAB Language Used | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con/CNC, Omegaverse, Cunnilingus, Size Kink, Womb Fucking, Blood, Creampie, Pain Kink, Marking, Squirting, Knotting

Diluc looks at you sleeping peacefully. You fainted after closing up the bar so he brought you to your place, which is much closer than the winery. He felt bad going through your pockets but he couldn't just leave you there and it’d be pretty inconvenient to carry you all the way to the winery. He touches your forehead. “You're burning up..” He mumbles. He turns around to leave your room and so he can grab some things to take care of you but gets stopped by you grabbing his arm. “Are you awake?” He turns back around.

“Diluc…” You look at him with hazy eyes. “Don't go.” Your voice is raspy.

“I’m not leaving you. I was just going to get you some medicine and water.”

“No…” You pull him onto the bed with you. His eyes widen as you force him to cuddle with you. “Stay.”

“[Name]-” He’s flustered. “You need medicine!”

“Just need you.” You hold him tightly and fall asleep. Diluc lays there in defeat. He can't escape your grasp.

“No~! It hurts!” Diluc grabs your arms, blood dripping down from his pussy and coating your cock. He digs into your skin. “Stop~!”

“I’m not gonna stop til I stuff your pussy and breed you til you can't handle it anymore.” You grin. 

He cries out in defiance, his pussy betraying him with an orgasm. You thrust into him harder, feeling your body grow hotter with each movement. Your cheeks are burning with heat. “I’m coming–” You bite down on your lip.

You jolt awake, your cock twitching weakly. You feel Diluc shifting around uncomfortably. He can feel your boner. “Diluc.” You say lovingly.

“Ye- yes?”

“I’m gonna get you pregnant.” Your voice is low. He’s beyond startled. You move the both of you so he’s the one laying on the bed.

“Wha- what? Are you–” He gasps when you rip his pants and underwear apart. He knows you’re strong but it shouldn't have been so easy for you to rip his slacks. He shouts your name in shock. You spread his legs apart and lift his lower half, bringing his cunt closer to your face. His entire face is bright red as you taste him. “Sto- stop– I don't—” Diluc lets out a shocked noise as your tongue drags down from his sensitive pussy lips to the rim of his ass. His breathing heavily increases as he feels you exploring his insides. His brain’s getting fuzzy. It gets ‘worse’ when you start stroking his t-cock. He covers his mouth to quiet the embarrassing sounds he’s trying desperately to prevent. He knows exactly where this’ll go.

He musters up the courage to kick you in the face. It shocks you enough to allow him to escape. You recover quickly and chase after him. You follow him down the stairs and lick your lips. His fear smells good. You grab his shirt at the end of the stairs and rip it, causing his shirt to fall to the floor. He doesn't stop running but you catch him at the front door. “Please…you need to get some rest!” Diluc can tell you’re not entirely yourself.

“I need to get inside you.” You huff, kissing his neck whilst humping him. “My omega...” You murmur.

Diluc’s entire body shivers. How did you know he's into that?

“Gonna have all my pups..” You slip your hands up his body and rub his nipples. They feel oddly sore and sensitive.

“No…not…” He bites his lip. “Stop it.” He tries to sound firm but your hands feel too good. He thought he wouldn’t regain the feeling in his nipples after surgery but it looks like he was wrong. “I— [Name]–” Diluc can feel his pussy throbbing. “Stop!”

“I don't want to. You smell so good, I can't resist your scent. You're making me excited.” 

“You're disgusting.”

You dig your nails into his waist and lean into his ear. “Whether you want it or not, I’m gonna fucking breed you.” You unbutton his pants. Diluc can barely move from how turned on he is. Just knowing that you're going to fuck him even if he doesn't want you to…he's always been ashamed of this kink and at first, he was horrified when he realized the thing he’d been fantasizing about was actually going to happen but now, he really wants it. “Just be a good little omega and let me have my way with you, okay?” 

“You– you—”

“Before you try anything, just know that I’m not scared to hurt you.” You remove his boxers then your own. Diluc gulps. “You’re mine and I don't mind forcing you to accept that.” 

He mewls when he feels your cock slide in between his thighs. He looks down and gasps. It’s exactly the same as in his fantasies, from the veins to the thickness. Is he dreaming? “You…it's not gonna fit–”

“I think you already know what I’m going to say.”

You’ll make it fit. Diluc shudders. You force him to move, just enough to allow you to easily enter him. He looks back at you with tears in his eyes, the desperation in his face is making the effects of your fever worse. He's making you want to hurt him. 

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you cry before.” You smile, teasingly pressing the head of your cock at his entrance. “It's so sexy.” You lean in to kiss him but he quickly turns away. You chuckle and force your cock inside him. 

He tries to scream but his voice is too sore. All he can do is let out strained cries. “Please st- stop–” He moans as your cock stretches him out beyond comprehension. He claws at the door and whines adorably. 

“Fuck–” You groan, reaching over to play with his t-dick. Diluc shivers and almost orgasms from the contact of your hand against his lower belly. “I didn't even–” You look over at him and notice something strange.

“Wh- wha-” Diluc looks down as well and gasps. A bright red marking on his stomach. It's like one of those tattoos he’s seen in some perverted comics. “I- how-”

You gently touch it, causing him to come for real this time. He shakes heavily and squirts. “God, Diluc..” You let out a sharp breath, feeling dizzy for a moment. It's making you more aroused too and it's not doing any favors to your current physical and mental condition. Before he can even let out a word, you shove yourself further into his pussy. He wails out in pain as your cock reaches his cervix.

“No- no- stop– please—” Diluc isn't all that interested in going that far.

“I can't—” You huff, continuously slamming into his poor cervix. More tears run down his pretty face. His fingernails start to bleed. “I’m s—” You cut yourself off as you enter his womb, your cum spurting inside him.

Diluc screams properly this time, blood dripping down his thighs. It doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would, but it hurts nonetheless. Still…somehow, he isn't turned off. He presses his forehead against the door and mindlessly stares at his new tattoo and at the mix of blood and cum on the floor. It's glowing faintly. What in Teyvat is going on? 

He snaps out of his trance once he feels you moving again. His face is flushed. “Wa- wait–” He can't believe this is what it feels like to have someone’s cock in his womb. He never even really thought about it before, understandably so considering that it should be impossible. It feels strange but in a good way.

“Diluc~” You groan, picking up the pace. “Fuck, such a good boy, taking it so well..”

He whimpers.

“Maybe you were made for me…my cock fits so nicely inside you..” You trace your fingers along the glowing red lines on his stomach. He twitches and writhes. “You're already tight but when you squeeze me…”

“It- it hurts–” He manages to speak before moaning. 

“I’ll make it feel good, baby.” You kiss his cheek. In reality, you don't have to do anything at all. He can't even keep his eyes focused because of all the amazing sensations. You stare at his neck for a moment before biting it. He gasps, a wave of pleasure running down his body like chills.

The marking on his womb is now glowing bright red and he’s suddenly overwhelmed by a new scent. Your scent. Diluc whimpers. Your pheromones are strong, it feels like he's going to lose his mind. His body feels light, like a doll. All he can feel is pain, which is just the right amount, and his pleasure. His vision is hazy and his body is almost hotter than the flames from his vision. Tears and drool drip down Diluc’s face as he finally and completely succumbs to the pleasure. Whether this is realistic or not doesn't matter to him anymore. 

He moans your name, his voice cracking as he does so.

“Yeah, baby?” You press harder on his womb.

Diluc squirts once again. “Baby..” He rasps. “I- I want your baby~”

You let out a pleased growl, making him shudder. “Finally giving in, huh?” You pull out of him. His breath hitches. “Don't worry sweetheart, ‘m gonna make sure you get pregnant tonight.” You turn him around and pick him up. He doesn't say anything but you can tell by where he's looking that he's not too happy about all the cum that's leaving him. You take him to the kitchen and lay him down on the island counter. You slowly slip back into his warmth, his cervix happily allowing you back into his womb.

“It’ll be more comfortable like this when I knot you.” You trace your finger down the bulge in his stomach to the marking on his womb. Diluc smiles shakily at the thought. “So pretty..” You stare at his tattoo as you mindlessly begin to thrust into him, moving faster with each thrust. You lean into Diluc’s neck and leave sloppy kisses all over him.

Diluc can only moan your name in response. He suddenly feels strong waves of pleasure wash over him, causing him to arch his back and bite down on his lip. He tears it, causing blood to drip down his chin. You lick up his blood while stroking his dick, helping him reach his peak. He moans once again and squirts.

You groan in pleasure, fucking him harder. He can tell you're about to come too. He shudders at the sound of your heavy breathing in his ear. You dig your nails into his skin until he bleeds. He's definitely going to pass out soon from all the blood loss.

“Diluc—!” You moan, coming inside him and forming a knot. You relax your body and take a few moments to catch your breath.

Diluc feels his dizziness and feverish temperature slowly going away, his tattoo disappearing as well. You can also feel your body cooling down.

You blink a couple times before pulling back in shock. “Di- Diluc?!” You gasp. You try to pull out but you can't. You look at the knot at the base of your cock in fear and confusion. You trail over to the rest of his body and see the damage you’ve done. “I- I’m so sorry- I didn't- I wasn't–”

Diluc brings his hand to your cheek. You feel even worse seeing how shaky he is. “It’s okay. I wanted it.” 

You look at him like a worried puppy.

“Don't worry…but..I might be pregnant.”

“What?!”

[ickadori]

cws for fem reader. mentions of murder. unedited.

Sukuna has never envied to be in Uraume’s position - or anyone’s position for that matter.

He had placed himself in the highest, most esteemed position —King, Lord, God to the more fanatic, Savior to the deluded— and he had granted himself the riches and spoils that came along with that title, including you.

He had pillaged your village and taken you from the wreckage - a wide eyed little thing that hadn’t so much as frowned when he sunk sharpened claws into the bellies of your family and flung their innards around the room. It had intrigued him— you had. A human that didn’t scream and snivel and beg for mercy at the depravities he so easily committed. He had thought you must have been raised the same as him, in a way: Unwanted.

A deep hidden part of him that he only ever acknowledged in the dark confines of his mind, never aloud, vowed to make sure you never experienced that feeling again under his ruling —love and care, a weak human would rather say— and you hadn’t.

He had given you everything you wanted, which hadn’t been much, food that didn’t consist of humans, clothes that shielded your body from his many eyes for the purpose of being “decent”, tch, and unlimited access to the maintained gardens outside. He had even given you things you hadn’t asked for, but that you happily received nonetheless; literature, trinkets, golds and silvers and rubies, hair clippings that you never knew how to properly wear, nuisance-some pets that eventually fell in the care of the many groundskeepers, and the most useful of all, Uraume.

They waited on you hand and foot, and while there had been silent complaints in the beginning, there were now none at all. You had bewitched them in the same way that many believed you had done to Sukuna, but his feelings for you couldn’t be lessened to something as asinine as that.

“Uraume,” you call out, pulling Sukuna from his inner musings, and he tunes back into the present, his earlier thought coming back: He’s never envied to be in Uraume’s position, but now as he stands in the doorway of Uraume’s chambers, arms crossed as he watches the two of you, a feeling similar to envy swirls in his gut and disgusts the mouth that resides there, its tongue lolling out in a gag.

Uraume is flat on their belly on the bed, kimono askew and hair mussed from your relentless tugging, and their face is stuffed between damp, shapely thighs. Your head is tossed back, buried between large pillows, and broken cries of their name floods the room, along with the unmistakable sound of their tongue lapping at that unbelievably messy cunt of yours.

You’re both too engrossed to take note of his presence, but the slight doesn’t invoke a sense of anger and displeasure in him, and this should be a testament to how .. highly he regards the two of you, but he disregards the notion.

Uraume’s hands trail up until they’re clasped on your waist, and twin moans echo as they do something with their mouth that has your toes curling and back arching - Sukuna wishes to see what action made you react like that, and it nearly spurs him forward, but he resists and remains rooted in his spot. He’s never cared about this particular act before, the men and women he had bedded had never made him want to put their mouths on them, so he hadn’t. They had been more than happy with just his cocks, and he hadn’t been willing to give them anything more… but you… he was contemplating.

Another cry of Uraume’s name finally moves him, and one set of arms uncross so he can fist the material of their kimono and pull. They resist for half a second, mind clearly still clouded by you, but once purple hues settle on their king they’re going willingly, glossy lips tugging into a smile before thinning out as they bow.

“Lord Sukuna, welcome home. Please forgive me for not properly greeting you—”

“I took no offense.” His eyes stay on you as he speaks, your own smile at his arrival freely displayed. His gaze drifts lower - to your breasts that heave with your hurried breaths, to the pudge of your stomach, and down to the mound between your legs. The mouth on his stomach drools at the sight, the taste of you remembered on its tongue. Sukuna has no control over its appetite, and you happen to be one of the few things it genuinely craves. He couldn’t fuck you without the greedy thing opening up for a taste, and while he used to be indifferent to the fact that their tastebuds weren’t shared, he’s now glad for it.

He’d rather taste it for the first time without the proxy.

He takes a knee and gets two shocked looks in return. Uraume springs into action. “Lord Sukuna, have you been injured? Poisoned?” They fret over him and he ignores it, now fully kneeling —a king kneeling, he snorts— and his hands pull you to the end of the bed, until your thighs are resting on his shoulders and your cunt is level with his face.

“Ryo?” You blink at him, hands holding you up as you stare at him, and Uraume stops their check for any visible injuries to instead join in on the gawk. He once again extends his grace and ignores it, choosing to instead lick a stripe up your cunt - you and Uraume mix together on his tongue, a favorable flavor that he finds himself partial to, and he does it again, tongue sandwiched between puffy folds and running over a swollen clit.

He breathes in deep through his nose and pulls you closer, one hand curling around the inside of your thigh, right where the hardened part of his face rubs against your skin, in an effort to keep from hurting you.

His tongue delves further, deeper, pushing into a hole he’s claimed as his own and mapping out the space his cock knows intimately well. You keen, loudly, heels of your feet pushing into a broad, muscled back, and his nose settles against your clit as your hips shift even closer.

“Ryo… oh, Ryo… Ryomen.”

Sukuna thinks himself a fool for going without this for so long - but he intends to make up for it all starting right now.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Things that make Ford feel appreciated;

1. While he may complain that you’re stealing his entire wardrobe but Ford likes it when you -not so subtly- steal his turtlenecks and trench coat.

Seeing you in then sent butterflies in his stomach and his cheeks aflame as he tries to keep his composure, but fails when he finds himself admiring how perfect you looked in his clothing and how this was a result of your adoration of him, wanting to show him just how highly you thought of him.

2. He may act like he’s full of confidence but in reality Ford was someone who was mocked for his six fingers at an early age. So while he’d like to claim he’s over it, but the idea of holding your hand in public -as temping as that may be- was something he was hesitant to initiate himself; secretly afraid there you might pull away from him and therefore solidifying everything he’s been told since youth.

So when you unflinchingly grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, going as far as to life his hand to your lips and kiss each and every finger has this man wanting you to do this forever and then some. You weren’t disturbed or disgusted by his fingers, but instead appreciative of them and you’d exemplify this by brushing the back of your hand against his, lock pinkies, and or trace his palms and drag your fingers all the way up his hand so that your fingertips met.

3. Listen to him as he talks about cryptids, anomalies and other parts of his research, listening to him even if half of the words flew over your head because you knew how important this was to him.

Ford knew that his work would seem taxing or impossible to believe or even laughable to non believers, but you would sit on his desk and listen intently as he showed you his journals, telling you his favourite discoveries and the discoveries that he hopes to discover in the future. Ford had a tendency to ramble about things he’s passionate about and even sometimes rushed his words in due to how strongly he feels about them.

You could tell this when he stammers over his words that his flew out of his mouth faster than his own mind could comprehend. Ford, noticing this would become flustered and tries to apologise on behalf of himself, but you would hold his hand between your own and say;

‘But I like listening to you talk about this kind of stuff, especially the ones about how you helped a ghost dog visit their family one last time to make sure they were okay. So please don’t apologise for getting passionate, take your time. I’m not going anywhere.’

You even listen to him talk about moths! Something that had never happened, he even had a mini journal dedicated to these moths and goes in insane depth on his favourite ones also.

4.when you push his glasses back up his nose when they slip.

This may not seem like much but Ford could fee the love and affection you had for him when you stop him in his tracks and gently push up or readjust his glasses on his face, finishing by kissing the up of his nose before letting him go about the rest of his day.

He could be deep in thought or elbow deep in his work when you tilt his head up by the chin, making him look at you as you push up his glasses that he hadn’t noticed were halfway down his nose. ‘There, perfect.’ You’d say with fond smile, kissing his cheek before reminding him that dinner was in five minutes as you left him in his lab to continue his work; only for Ford to find difficulty to continue with his work when all his mind could focus on was your touch, your kiss and sweet words that made his heart swell.

[lolahauri]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's Your Sex I Can Smell, P2

Ship: Ticci Toby/Reader

Type: Explicit Smut, F/M, Part 2/3. (MDNI)

Contains: Dom Reader, Sub Toby, Missionary Position, Handjob, Female Masturbation, Vibrators, Edging, Orgasm Control, Crying, A LOT of Teasing & Begging, Creampie, Praise, Dirty Talk, Lots of "Good Boy", Love Confession, Post-Sex Cuddling.

Words: 3k

M/M Ver: Coming Soon...

A/N: Hope this doesn't disappoint! So sorry for the wait. <3 Part 1 <-

Much to your dismay, nearly all of the shops in town were closed today. Meaning your only options for grabbing household essentials were a couple gas stations that decided to stay open on a national holiday. You weren’t happy about it at all, but you tried to look on the bright side. At least you could get home to Toby sooner, right? Now that you don’t have to browse a large grocery store. 

You moved the small bags of food to one hand and opened the door to the cabin. “Tobes! I’m home early!” you yelled out into the living room, not checking to see if he was actually still there first. “I guess it’s some kind of… holiday…?” Your voice lowered and your sentence was interrupted when you heard strange sounds coming from the opposite end of the house. 

“The fuck is that?” You thought to yourself as you set the bags on the table. It sounded like some kind of crying almost? Was Toby hurt? What could have even happened in the hour you were gone? He was literally the only one home. It couldn’t have been a cooking accident, he was eating when you left. Plus, he was clearly not in the kitchen. 

Worried someone, or something, had broken in, you moved cautiously down the hall, pocket knife in hand. You weren’t sure at first, but you knew now the sound was definitely coming from your room. But why would he be in your…

....

....

Oh!

You covered your mouth to hush the loud gasp threatening to escape. Peeking past the doorway to your room once again, you almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Toby, your best friend, in your bed, masturbating, and smelling your… used underwear... Jesus Christ. 

It wasn’t often you were left speechless, but this was one of the rare times you were. What had you most confused though were your own feelings. You wanted to believe it was just something between pity and disgust, but the heat spreading between your thighs told you that wasn’t all you felt. 

It was embarrassing, really. On one hand you wanted to yell at him, slap him across the face for being so fucking disgusting. But on the other, you wanted to keep watching, maybe even join him. There’s something so grossly erotic about watching him please himself with your belongings, thinking he’s alone, that he’ll get away with it and you’ll never know. 

You didn’t even realize how hard you were spaced out until you were snapped out of it by Toby’s orgasm. Your cunt throbbed suddenly, your eyes widening again. He was whimpering and crying out your name while his cum soaked your underwear. You cringed at the sight, it was both sickening and insanely arousing. As he went to remove the article from his lap, you figured now would be as good a time as any to make your presence known. You didn’t want him to get too tired before you could play with him a little. 

Walking into the room quietly, you leaned against the door frame, putting your knife back in your pocket. “Having fun, Toby? God, you’re so fucking pathetic.” You bit your lip and smiled to hold back a laugh, watching as he immediately jumped at the sound of your voice and locked eyes with you. Did he really not know you were there at all? Guess he’s not only a pervert, but fucking oblivious too. 

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as you stepped further into your room. He began sputtering out apologies and stuffing his cock back into his pants, tripping and stuttering over his words to the point you could barely understand him. He seemed so caught up in his panic he didn’t even notice that you’d turned to lock the door, now carefully stepping towards him.

“Relax, Tobes. I’m not gonna hurt you. Jesus...” You couldn't help but giggle a little, he's kind of adorable when he's scared.

Wait, what? That shut him up right away.

"U-uhm, you-you're not?" He looked and sounded both confused and cautious. Is this some kind of trick? Are you about to kill him? His heart raced as you stepped right in front of him.

"No, of course not." You took off your jacket and carefully climbed into the bed with him, straddling one of this thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I wanted to join you actually. Is that okay, Toby?

Toby looks up at you in disbelief, wondering if he actually died and went to heaven. He figures this has to be a trap, there's no god damn way you're trying to fuck him right now.

But on the other hand, you definitely could've killed him already if you wanted to. You must not mean any harm. So what's the worst that could happen then? You lead him on, you don't let him cum? He would deserve that so he couldn't really complain-

"Toby? Hellooo?" He jumped at your voice, clearly unaware he was lost in thought.

"S-sorry, uh, yes? Of course!" His voice cracked a bit. He carefully put on a hand on your waist, testing the waters first. He then gazed up at you with those big brown puppy eyes, waiting for you to take the lead.

"Great. You just lay back and be a good boy then, got it?" You whispered. He obediently nodded in return, whining at the nickname.

Time for the fun to begin.

You ran your hands from his shoulders all the way down his torso, just barely feeling the muscles and scars on his body through his sweatshirt. His breathe becoming shaky the further you trailed down south, the anticipation making every hair on his body stand up. By the time your fingers reached the waistband of his boxers, he was nearly squirming under your touch.

His jeans were still unbuttoned and barely covered his growing bulge, leaving him to be easily accessed. You held one hand on his hip to keep him still, and let the other move to his cock, gently palming him through his boxers. A relieved sigh slipped past Toby's lips as his cock jumped at the sensation.

An uncomfortable ache spread between your legs the longer you played with his cock. Squeezing your thighs together was no longer providing any relief, but you just couldn't stop teasing him. Every little noise that came from him made a spark of electricity shoot through you, and the feeling of his cock non-stop twitching and throbbing under your palm only made you want more.

You could sense you weren't the only one feeling impatient though when he started bucking his hips up to meet your touch. Toby let out a strangled moan as you ghosted your fingers over his tip, feeling that it'd already begun leaking precum, leaving a small wet patch on his underwear.

"Please..." His voice was barely above a whisper, moving his hips up again to press into your hand.

"Mm-mm." You shook your head at him and removed your hands from his bulge. "None of that. Stay still and tell me what you want."

He whined in discomfort, covering his reddening face with his hands, already struggling with the loss of contact. "Plea- please..." Is all he managed to get out. "God, this is embarrassing" he thought.

" 'Please' what? C'mon, be a good boy and use your words." Hands now tracing along the waistband of his underwear. His only response was a groan in frustration, trying again to thrust up, only to be met with you pinning him down harder with both hands. "Listen, I'm not going to say it again, Toby. Tell me what you want, or you're not getting anything at all." 

"Ughh. Fuck, just-just touch me. Please, anything. Need... need more." He was tossing and turning underneath you, getting increasingly antsy and impatient

"That's all I needed to hear." Before he could whine in annoyance at your condescension, you'd already dipped your hand back into his pants. Only this time instead of more teasing, you fully pulled his cock out and brought his pants down just enough to leave him fully out on display. He wasn't the only one craving more.

The cool air hitting his blazing hot skin made him shiver, but you were quick to start warming him up. You gently wrapped a hand around Toby's cock as you knelt between his legs, stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn't complain yet though, he was just happy you were touching him at all.

After a few slow pumps of his cock, you stopped to tease his tip, smearing the precum dribbling out and using it as lube as you continued. Toby's face was flushed and sweaty when you started to pick up the pace, jerking him off just quick enough to not be too teasing, but still not enough to bring him to the edge. Just what you wanted.

"F-faster..." He begged, huffing and gripping the bed sheets.

"You want more?" You smirked when he nodded his head eagerly. "Okay, what's the magic word?"

Normally he would've been pissed off at you for talking to him like that, mocking and taunting him, but right now, any shame he had was long gone. He was willing and ready to do any and every thing you asked of him.

"P-lease! Pleasee go faster!" His voice strained, body twitching underneath you. The constant flow of whimpers makes your cunt throb painfully, but you aren't done playing yet. You're just getting started.

"That's it, good boy, good boy." You leaned your head down a bit to spit on his aching cock, immediately earning a high-pitched moan from him. You started jerking him off at a fast pace, letting your other hand move down to cup his balls. He gasped as you began to gently massage and rub them, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure.

He whimpers your name and grips your arms tightly, "I'm- I'm getting s-soo close. Holyy shit"

"Yeah? You wanna cum?"

"Fuuck yess, please let me cum." He sounded so cute and pathetic you almost considered letting him. But unfortunately for him, you're not done yet.

"Mm, I don't think so." The hand that was stroking his cock slowed to a full stop before you pulled both of them away. He whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and looked at you with half lidded eyes, looking like a sad little puppy.

"W-why?" Was all he could get out, his voice sounding so weak and defeated.

"Oh come on, you already came once today. I should be able to have some fun too, don't you think?." He looked away and blushed, feeling guilty and embarrassed. You shuffled out from between his legs and moved further down the bed.

"Tell you what," You started to pull your t-shirt off, "I'll let you watch. And maybe if you behave I'll let you touch yourself too. How's that sound?"

Toby's eyes were glued to your tits the entire time you spoke, but eventually he stuttered out an agreement. He couldn't deny that he had definitely fantasized about watching you masturbate before. He'd be crazy to not take you up on this offer.

You then slowly pulled down your shorts and panties, trying not to giggle as you watched him follow your every move, practically drooling in anticipation.

When you were finally undressed, you leaned back on one arm, spreading your legs and letting Toby see the mess he made of you already. His cock jumped at the sight of your glistening cunt, whining a little under his breathe.

"Tobes, open my nightstand and toss me my vibrator." He listened straight away, doing it as fast as possible, so eager to watch.

You started on the lowest setting first to tease yourself a little, wanting to last as long as possible and give Toby a real good show. The toy buzzed lightly as you slowly ran it up your pussy, wetting it with your juices.

A relieved sigh escaped you when the toy finally reached your neglected clit. Despite being fully exposed to the rooms chilly air, your skin was on fire. Waves of tingling heat washing over you.

You slowly rubbed it in tight circles, watching Toby the entire time. He was anxiously shifting in his seat, wanting so desperately to join you, but he knew he had to wait for your approval. He looked so cute sitting there waiting for your command. God, how you wanted him to just crawl on top of you fuck you right then.

That wouldn't be a punishment, though. You'll have to let him take lead next time.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as you lowered your gaze to his cock, imagining how it'd feel inside you. He's big. It'd probably stretch you out real good. Fuck, this is going way too slow for your liking. You needed more.

You inhaled sharply as you turn the vibration speed up, setting it at medium. "Shit..." You rubbed your clit in long, slow strips. It was getting hard to stay slow, you wanted to cum so bad, but you tried to hold out as long as possible.

"You wanna join, Toby?" Looking into his eyes, you could already tell the answer.

"Ye-yes please." He replied so cautiously, yet he was quick to grab his aching cock. He started to jerk himself off like he was in a rush, way too fast to not cum soon.

"Hey, slow down. Stay with me, 'kay?" You said as sternly as you could at the moment. But you had to admit your confidence was faltering at bit.

Toby nodded and slowed down, his breathing getting shaky and ragged as he stared at your cunt, watching your juices drip onto the sheets. He felt so hot and dizzy. All he wanted was to be inside you. He couldn't stop the whimpers that came out after each stroke of his cock. He sounded like he was about to cry.

And that only turned you on more.

You clicked your vibrator one last time, putting it on the highest setting and rubbing yourself faster. You cursed and moaned as you swiped the toy across your clit over and over and over. The muscles in your thighs and abdomen started to tense up. An intense pressure rapidly building up. You were going to cum at any minute, you couldn't stop it now.

Toby was feeling the exact same way, listening to your pretty moans as he watched you fuck yourself was making him lose his god damn mind. He started begging you to let him finish too, he couldn't handle anymore edging. He might actually start sobbing if you deny him again.

"Can I cum wi-with you? Please? Please, please, please!" His voice cracked and wavered, small tears brimming his eyes.

You were seconds away from your climax now, but you still didn't let up, "No-no fucking way! Don't you -oh fuck- don't you dare fucking cum. Wait till- till you're inside."

You could barely get your sentence out before cumming all over your vibrator. The feeling hit you like a train, like you were about to pass out from the intensity and exhaustion. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, quickly becoming overstimulated as you rode out your orgasm.

When it was over, you felt limp, barely able to keep yourself propped up. Damn. Guess you will have to let Toby take it from here. You've probably punished him enough anyway, why not give him a treat?

You lazily tossed your vibrator onto the floor, calling Toby's name and catching his attention immediately. The look on his face made your heart jump.

Oh, poor baby. His eyes were so glossy with tears, panting from being worked up so much. But what a good boy he was, listening to your every word. He's definitely earned this.

You spread your legs open again, beckoning him to come forward. "C'mere baby, finish inside me, you earned it."

He didn't wait a second to jump at the opportunity, not wanting to wait and have you change your mind. He crawled on top of you and wasted no time slipping himself inside.

You both gasped at the intrusion, his big cock stretched you out perfectly, and his eyes were rolling back at how fucking tight and soaked you were. He didn't even have to wait to start pounding into you like an animal, he slid right in and fucked you with ease.

Toby knew he wasn't going to last long, so he savored this feeling as long as he could. He buried his face into your neck, moaning after each thrust, slamming into you as hard and fast as he physically could.

He was falling apart quickly though, the way your walls squeezed around him left him breathless. He gripped onto the sheets tightly and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of your throat. Not hard enough to bleed, but enough to make you gasp and tighten around him. You felt so good he couldn't believe it.

He wished this could last forever, but he just couldn't hold off any longer, feeling the pressure of his long-awaited orgasm sneak up on him already. He moved his hands off of your sheets and snaked his arms underneath you and around your torso, pulling you into a tight embrace before he came.

His thrusts became sloppy and erratic as he reached his climax, now completely unable to hold back all his pretty little noises. His exhausted body trembled as he came deep inside you, crying into your neck and muttering "i love you" over and over again. He stayed inside until he was totally spent, trying to cock warm you as long as could.

It took all of his willpower to finally pull out of you, he wished he could relish in the feeling of being inside you forever. But for now, cuddling your sweaty, equally tired self would have to do.

He collapsed next you and pulled you back into his chest, refusing to let go of you even to clean up, insisting you wait until morning to shower together.

And you accepted that, too tired to argue back as you felt sleepiness take over, quietly dozing off with his strong arms wrapped around you.

~

A/N: Thanks for reading! I luv you all! (❁´◡`❁)

[k2padfoot]

In the Quiet Hours

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: A sleepless night at Rafes leads to a heated run in with Ward, uncovering dangerous secrets and dragging you into a deeper mess.

warnings: *TW* violence, sexual harassment, fear, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

The night in the Cameron house was unnervingly quiet, with only the soft hum of the AC breaking the stillness. You had been lying beside Rafe for hours, staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep. The heat combined with the swirling thoughts in your head made it impossible to fall asleep. So you decided to slip out of bed, careful not to disturb Rafe’s peaceful slumber, and headed downstairs for a glass of water.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the dim light from the kitchen caught your eye. Your steps slowed, it was late—too late for anyone else to be up.

You pushed open the door to the kitchen and stopped dead in your tracks. Ward was stood by the sink, a half empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you entered the room. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you, his gaze lingering a little too long, a little too intently.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Ward’s voice was low, almost a growl as he set his glass down and took a slow step towards you. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You tried to keep your composure, forcing a small smile as you replied, “Just need to get some water.”

Ward’s smile widened, but there was nothing friendly about it. “Water? At this hour?” He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “You know, there’s a much better way to take care of your thirst.” He slurred.

You felt your stomach churn at his words. “I should get back upstairs,” you said quickly, but when you turned to leave Ward’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. His grip was rough as your heart began to race.

“Why the rush?” he asked, his voice dripping with a fake sweetness. “Rafe’s out cold. He won’t even know you’re gone.”

You tugged at your wrist, but Ward’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. He pulled you closer until you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, his breath warm against your face.

“Ward, please,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the panic rising in your chest. “Let me go.”

But instead of letting you go, he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re too good to be wasting your time with my son. You deserve someone who knows how to treat a woman, knows exactly what she needs.”

Your breath hitched, fear tightening its grip on you. Ward’s free hand trailed up your arm, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine. “I could give you things no one would ever could,” he continued, his voice laced with something dark and twisted. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

You tried to pull away, but Ward was relentless, his grip like a vice. “Ward, stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling now. “I’m in love Rafe.”

“And that’s supposed to mean something to me?” Ward sneered, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you even closer. “Rafe doesn’t deserve such a pretty thing, he’s useless sweetheart.”

The way he said “sweetheart” made your skin crawl. You opened your mouth to say something, scream, anything at all, but before you could the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Ward, what the hell are you doing?”

Rose’s voice cut through the air like a knife, she stood in the doorway eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene. Ward’s grip on you loosened and he stepped back, his expression quickly shifting to one of feigned innocence.

“Nothing Rose,” he said smoothly, though his voice carried a slight edge. “Just a little late night chat.”

Rose’s eyes narrowed as she looked between the two of you, clearly not convinced. “Go back upstairs,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You quickly moved past Ward, avoiding his eyes as you hurried towards the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you could still feel his gaze on you, burning into your back.

You rushed up the stairs, returning to Rafe’s room as quickly as you could. The darkness of the room was a stark contrast to the burning anxiety in your chest, and for a moment, you just stood there staring at the bed where Rafe lay sleeping, his breathing deep and even.

You wanted to crawl back into bed, wrap yourself in Rafe’s arms and pretend nothing had happened, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How were you going to explain what just happened? How could you even begin to tell Rafe what his father just did to his girlfriend?

Your thoughts were racing, tangled up in fear and confusion. You didn’t want to wake Rafe. You didn’t want to burden him with this, not when you weren’t even sure how to process it yourself. The last thing you wanted was to make things worse between him and his father, but the weight of what just happened felt suffocating and you knew you couldn’t just go back to bed and pretend everything was fine.

Without thinking, you turned and slipped into Rafe’s bathroom. The cold tiles under your feet grounded you just enough to keep the panic at bay as you shut the door behind you. You sank to the floor, your back against the cool wall, and pulled your knees up to your chest wrapping your arms around them.

The quiet of the bathroom was almost too much, the silence allowing your thoughts to race unchecked. You replayed the scene over and over in your mind, Ward’s voice, his touch, the way he looked at you. It made you feel sick, like you wanted to scrub your skin raw just to get rid of the memory. But no matter how hard you tried to push it away, it lingered, festering like a wound.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity trying to collect yourself, trying to figure out what to do next. But you couldn’t stop the tears that began to well up in your eyes, hot and stinging as they slid down your cheeks. You buried your face in your hands, desperate to muffle your sobs that threatened to escape, not wanting to wake Rafe and force him to see you like this.

But Rafe had always been attuned to you, even in his sleep. It wasn’t long before you heard him stirring in the bedroom, the sheets rustling as he reached out for you. When his hand met the empty space, you heard him sit up, his voice groggy and thick with sleep.

“Baby?” Rafe called out softly, the concern already creeping into his voice when you didn’t respond. You could hear him getting out of bed, his footsteps soft as he walked around the room searching for you. “Where’d you go?”

You tried to stay quiet, hoping he might just go back to bed, but when he reached the bathroom door there was no hiding from him. He knocked gently, the sound soft but insistent. “You in there?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself before answering. “Yeah… I’m here.”

The door opened almost immediately and Rafe stepped inside, his eyes narrowing with worry when he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaking your face. He was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as he searched your eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with fear and concern, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down your cheek. “Why are you crying baby? Did something happen?”

You wanted to tell him you were fine, that it was nothing, but the words stuck in your throat, your voice betraying you with a broken sob. Rafe’s expressions shifted from worry to alarm, his hands tightening on your face as he tried to get you to look at him.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the moment you met his eyes the dam broke and everything came pouring out. “I-It was your dad… Ward— he…” your voice trembled as you struggled to find the right words. “He cornered me in the kitchen, he—he said things, Rafe, disgusting things, a-and he wouldn’t let me go…”

Rafe’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. His eyes darkened with a fury you’d never seen before, his jaw clenching so tightly you could see the muscle twitch. He pulled away from you, his hands dropping to his sides as he stood up abruptly, fists clenching and unclenching as if he was trying to keep himself from exploding.

“That stupid piece of shit,” Rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“No Rafe, please,” you cried, scrambling to your feet and grabbing his arm before he could storm out of the bathroom. “Don’t leave.. Please don’t leave.”

Rafe stopped in his tracks, turning to face you, his expression softening the moment he saw the fear in your eyes. The anger drained from him just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a deep concern that twisted his features into a pained expression.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. It was grounding, comforting, even as the storm of emotions raged inside you.

“It’s not your fault,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest. “Just.. please just stay with me.”

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice etched with emotion. “I’m here okay? I’m right here.”

You nodded, the tension in your body slowly beginning to ease as you let yourself relax in his embrace. He gently guided you back down to the floor, sitting with you, his arms never leaving your body as he held you close trying to offer you some semblance of comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, over and over, his voice breaking each time. “I should’ve protected you.. I should’ve known.”

“Rafe, stop,” you whispered back, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “You couldn’t have known, this isn’t your fault.”

He shook his head, tears welling in his own eyes now as he looked at you, his expression filled with regret and self-loathing. “I just.. I never wanted something like this to happen to you. You don’t deserve this, you deserve so much better.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing away a tear that escaped. “Don’t, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I just need you with me right now. That’s all I need.”

Rafe’s eyes softened and he nodded, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a shaky breath. “I’m here,” he whispered again. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here as long as you need.”

You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you leaned into him, letting his presence soothe the raw edges of your emotions. Rafe’s hands ran soothingly up and down your back, his touch gentle and calming as he whispered soft reassurances into your ear.

For a long time the two of you just sat there on the bathroom floor, wrapped in each others arms, the world outside fading away as you found solace in each other. Rafe kept murmuring apologies, but you hushed him each time because the only thing that mattered right now was that he was here with you, holding you together when you felt like falling apart.

And as minutes ticked by, you started to feel a sense of peace returning, knowing that no matter what happened next you wouldn’t have to face it alone. Rafe was here, and for now, that was enough.

[trashland-llamas]

Fish Out of Water

x gender neutral reader

The Bats take Reader out for dinner at a fancy restaurant like it’s just another Tuesday. Cause for them it is, but for Reader, it’s hell on Earth. The experience very much confirms that they prefer cheaper restaurants. They’d even choose a fast food restaurant over this.

Reader doesn’t know how to dress. Feeling overdressed compared to the Bats as they informed them to dress up. They’re all wearing simple button up’s and jeans while Reader’s out here in what could be considered business professional.

Looking over the menu, Reader doesn't know what to get. A complete shot in the dark as they pick something at random. Something that sounds somewhat appetizing but that they're still unsure about. As even the few dishes they do know seem like an intimation of the schema they have for the dish.

Despite doing their best to suck it up and hide their disgust, the Bats pick up on it. As they grimace and move the pieces of food around the plate. Cutting a small piece off with their fork and knife. Followed by a few sips of their drink to drown out the taste. Deconstructing it.

‘You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.’ Comes Dick’s kind voice. Damian popping in with a somewhat snide, ‘can easily order something else.’ To which Reader could admit he was right, but they weren’t raised as Bruce Wayne’s kid. ‘Feels wasteful if I don’t, cost 25 dollars. Plus I don’t know what I’d want instead of this.’

Bruce does that one hand motion to signal he wants the check. Mouthing the words to a waiter as he makes a writing motion in the air. Tim, having stolen half a dozen of Bruce's credit cards, hands one off to Jason.

Jason taps them on the shoulder, getting them to follow him outside to his motorcycle. 'C'mon, let's go search for something more suited to your palate,' his quip comes with a teasing bite. If they were still in the presence of the other bats, they would've snitched on him so fast. Knowing damn well that Jason prefers a greasy fast food hamburger over escargot and oysters any day.

Reader simply puts on the extra helmet he offers, not saying anything about how Jason already knew the quickest way to the nearest McDonalds. Like he had done this before.

[ily-sunghoon]

The Omen of Sterling | CHAPTER IV

Pairing : vampire!enha x fem!oc

Genre of this chapter : vampire, disgusting little smut scene with jungwon

POV : Author’s

Words count : 5.2k

WARNINGS : MDNI!!! food, blood drinking, pussy eating, nipple play, period cycle, curses, mentioned of kms, kinda power abuse, enha are simps, fighting, witchcraft, DO NOT PROCEED IF UNCOMFORTABLE lmk if I missed anything

Note : PHEEEEEWWWW FIRST SMUT CHAPTER! the smut scene is really short, but! enjoy! ALSO, TWO NEW CHARACTERS WOOHOOO <3 feel free to ask if you have confusion about anything! (dont ask me when will this end)

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @nshmrarki @capri-cuntz @millieinyourarea @strxwbloody @poeticjustice1010 @leesura @vousty (let me know if you want to be added)

CHAPTER IV: BLOODY NIGHT

Wilhelmina is in a good mood today, she’ll be back at her uncle’s mansion! Her favorite place ever, because everyone in the castle is not fun. Here in the mansion, they’ve got Ricardo and Jasper who are just as weird as her. Now, she heard that the new girl is also a fun person too! She can’t wait to meet her!

A little bit contrast for the seven vampires, Wilhelmina is like a thunderstorm. Sure, she keeps the house lively! But no one would deny the chaos that she would be making every five minutes is kind of difficult to handle.

“Tell me what happened while I’m gone. In full. Where is the new girl? I want to meet her.” Wilhelmina demands Jasper.

“Good timing, she’s in your uncle’s office.” Jasper grins.

“Oh! What chapter did I miss?” Wilhelmina smirks at the hinted statement.

“A lot! Go barge in, you’ll see for yourself.” Jasper whispered.

Wilhelmina walks upstairs to Jestel’s office with Jasper.

“I’ll wait here.” Jasper informed. Stopping right next to a vase.

Wilhelmina nods and storms uninvited. She clearly could see the way Jestel was so drooling over the new girl.

“Wilhelmina, how many times—” Jestel sighed at her behavior.

“GOOD MORNING! Hi, I’m Wilhelmina. I’m so glad we finally meet each other!” Wilhelmina smiles widely at Iolana.

“Hi! I’m Iolana. I heard about you from Jestel and Ricardo a lot!” Iolana smiles back, she gave her a smile that she didn’t give to any of those guys. A genuine, warm smile.

Jestel froze when he saw her smiling like that.

“My room is on the 4th floor! Please visit me if you have spare time. Or I can visit you! We can go shopping, gossiping, do each other’s hair—oh, wait! WOW! You have short hair, that’s rare!” Wilhelmina is shocked. She had never seen any girl with mid-length hair like Iolana before.

“Wilhelmina, manners.” Jestel reminded her.

“I apologize, Iolana. I was just curious!”

“It’s okay! My brother accidentally cut it during our duels.” Iolana answered, still with her warm smile. She feels safe around Wilhelmina, there’s no bad vibes from her.

“Are you planning to grow it?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t want to get some mouths on my new society.” Iolana giggled.

“Fuck them, you’re very cool!” Ricardo was right, Iolana gets along with Wilhelmina really well.

“Wilhelmina, watch the language.” Jestel reminds her again. “Get out, you’re disturbing our discussion.”

“Oh, my my! Iolana, you must be special. He hates discussion, let alone with a new girl that he just met.” Wilhelmina giggled. She loves teasing everyone in the house, especially her uncle. It gave her a sense of control and it’s fun.

“Don’t listen to her, Iolana.” Jestel tries to convince Iolana otherwise.

“You can ask everyone, Iolana. I might be a trouble, but I never lie.” Wilhelmina laughed this time. Surely Jestel can’t beat that statement, Iolana knows that it’s the truth.

“Are you done, Wilhelmina?” Jestel is panicking.

“He gave her his blood.” Jasper added, bursting into the room.

“Really, Jasper?” Jestel is frustrated right now.

“What does that mean?” Iolana plays dumb.

“Well, somebody is ready to settle down! Eager, aren’t we?” Wilhelmina is enjoying this. “Iolana, you’re truly special. Blood is a big deal around here.”

“Really?”

“Not necessarily!” Jestel panicked again.

“It’s the biggest love form for us Kroshoviens. Hope that helps!” Wilhelmina is giggling nonstop.

“Oh! Even if they mix the blood with somebody else’s blood too?”

“Well, they’re all confessing to you then.” Jasper shrugged his shoulder. “Who’s the other boys?”

“Saine, Jusarlie, and Sarco.”

“Sarco?!” They stopped for a second. “Sarco gave his blood to you?”

“Yes, yesterday after dinner.” Iolana explained.

“This is so fun!” Wilhelmina eyes lit up in excitement. “Hope you can handle the intensity, Iolana!”

“Wait, Wilhelmina, could you explain it again to me? I’m kind of puzzled here.” Iolana played her part.

“That would be my pleasure! Let’s go to your room, I’ll explain further.”

“Iolana, she might add a few lies.” Jestel warned her again.

“No, Wilhelmina never lie.” Jasper shoos them away.

“Bye, Uncle Jestel! Bye, Jasper!” Wilhelmina hugs Iolana’s arm and walks to the 3rd floor together while chatting.

Jestel is visibly bothered.

“Look who’s in a lovestruck now.” Jasper laughed at Jestel’s expression.

“I could handle those other two, but Sarco? Really?” Jestel faked a deep sigh.

“Don’t you think you should start to listen to Idris? None of his omen are proven wrong, especially for this girl.” Jasper gives him simple advice.

“Maybe I should, it is hard to believe this sometimes.”

—

“Wilhelmina, are you not bothered by my scent?” Iolana asked her when they reached the 3rd floor.

“Oh, it only works for the opposite gender! I feel comfortable with you even though you’re a sweet-scented human!” Wilhelmina explained.

“Do they just want my blood…? I don’t know who to trust right now.” Iolana frowned.

“Hey, it’s okay. I feel you, it must be very overwhelming. Take it easy, Iolana. I personally think that they’re in real lovestruck.” Wilhelmina waits for Iolana to open her bedroom door.

They walk in and sit on the bed.

“So… about the blood confession? I don’t know… could you explain more?” Iolana asked politely.

“Basically, if they give you, their blood. It means they’re consenting to you to call upon them whenever you want and need. Hence why we see it as the greatest form of love. It’s not common for one to give their blood so easily to someone they just knew. That’s why I called you special.” Wilhelmina explained.

“Is it that serious?”

“Yes! Only engaged and married people usually do that thing to each other. So, sum it up by yourself.” Wilhelmina laughed. “They’re so in love with you, they think you’re the one for them.”

“This is a bad thing, then?” Iolana gulps.

“Depends on how you look at it, me personally, it’s so fun! You can just summon them as you wish. How fun is that?” Wilhelmina tries to make Iolana see the bright and fun side.

“Whenever, huh?” Iolana nods and smirks.

“That’s the spirit!” Wilhelmina knew Iolana hides something mischievous behind those shy smiles. “Don’t you want to try to summon one of them?”

“Sure! Who should I call?” Iolana is confused.

“Call my uncle.”

“Okay, let’s try.” Iolana is giggling. She tries to focus herself while taking a deep breath. “Jestel, I need you.”

In a second, Jestel teleported in her room. He looks confused.  “Iolana, did she ask you to do that?”

“We just want to try!” Iolana defends Wilhelmina who’s smugly grins at Jestel now.

“Okay, next time do it only if you need me, alright?” Jestel tried to be as soft-spoken as he could. It’s a funny scene to watch for Wilhelmina.

“Okay, Jestel.” Iolana puts up her innocent gaze.

“I’ll get going.” Jestel nods and walks out from her room.

Wilhelmina laughed loudly as Jestel had already walked up the stairs. “You’re so good at acting sweet, you should teach me.”

“The key is in the eyes. Just make it bigger, full of hope, and blink a few times, you know. Like this.” Iolana gives her an example. “Always work on men.”

“Let me try, let me try.” Wilhelmina closes her eyes, preparing to try the sweet-looking eyes method. She opens her eyes, giving it an essence of hope, and blinks a few times. “Like this?”

“Yes, that’s perfect!” Iolana claps her hand, proud of Wilhelmina. Girlhood is so fun.

“I’m going to use it against Jasper.” Wilhelmina mumbled to herself.

Iolana gives her a smug grin, “You like him, don’t you?”

“No, no, no! No way, right?” Wilhelmina’s nervous chuckles are enough evidence of her real feelings toward Jasper.

“Sure! No way, right?” Iolana mocks her.

“Don’t tell anyone! You’re the first to know!” Wilhelmina whispered.

“Let’s just hope Saine isn’t in his room right now.” Iolana whispered back.

A knock on the door made them jump. “Iolana, it’s me.”

Oh, lord. It’s Saine.

“Speaking of the devil.” Iolana laughed. “Come in, Saine.”

Saine walks in with a sweet smile, but it fades away immediately when he sees Wilhelmina. “Oh, my vamp, it’s you.”

“You gave your blood to her, right?” Wilhelmina strikes back. “That’s so sweet of you, Saine.”

Saine swifts uncomfortably, “Uh, yes. Anyways, I’m going for a walk in the town. Do you want to join me, Iolana?”

“Sure! Can we invite Wilhelmina too?” Iolana is in her innocent mask again.

“Sure.” Saine nods. Praying to every deity and his ancestors that he could think of right now.

“I’ll go ask Jasper.” Wilhelmina smiles at Iolana, then smirks at Saine. “Jaspeeer!”

“Stop screaming, I could hear you perfectly without all the screams.” Jasper shows up immediately at Iolana’s door.

“Relax, soulmate. Let’s join Iolana and Saine for a walk.” Wilhelmina chuckled.

“Sure, let’s go. I’m ready.” Jasper nods.

“Okay, our first stop is my father. He made a special necklace for Iolana. We should grab it first, I’m sure it can hide her sweet scent.” Saine smiles warmly at Iolana.

—

Holstein crouched in front of the last Sterling that he could bring here alive. Fortunately for him, it’s Tama Sterling! The eldest son of Tearle. Luckily, Tama survived his own suicide. So, here he is! Lying on the special prison’s floor, helpless, out of energy, hungry maybe? He’s also very angry. Only if he is a vampire, they’ll be dead by now.

“Is your sister alive?” Holstein asked.

Tama remained silent.

“She’s important to me.” Holstein said again. “She might be the one.”

“Over my dead body.” Tama mocks him.

“You’re so hard to talk to, just like Jestel. I’m sure Iolana is just like me. Easy to talk to, cold-headed, and not stingy.” Holstein scoffed. “Don’t worry, Tama. You’ll be a vampire soon.”

That can’t be happening, what are their plans now?

“Without your memory too, isn’t it sweet? You’re going to be our little dangerous weapon.”

“I’d rather die.”

“You don’t get to choose here.” Holstein hits Tama’s head, not enough to make him die, but enough to knock him out.

—

Iolana stands up and hugs Saine’s arm. Ready for the quick speed she’s going to face. They’re instantly gone in a second, it takes fifteen seconds to get to the Cairneye’s Mansion. Iolana never realized how far it was. Maybe yesterday she was really enjoying the view.

“Papa!” Saine shouts for his father.

“My ears,” Idris acts like his ears are hurt by Saine’s voice.

“Whatever, where is the pendant?” Saine is fed up with Idris’ playfulness.

“Oh, there’s a few things that I need to tell you. Are you sure these two can keep their mouth shut?” Idris points at Jasper and Wilhelmina.

“Guys, get ou—” Saine was interrupted by Iolana.

“They can stay. I trust them.” Iolana calmly answered.

“Are you sure?” Idris frowned.

“I have their secrets, it’s good.” Iolana tilts her head a little bit.

“Woah, what is my secret?!” Jasper is panicking.

“She’ll tell you later, now Uncle Idris tell us.” Wilhelmina glares at Jasper.

“Well, Iolana. Get ready to be hex!” Idris tells the news like it’s a birthday party, full smile, little claps. This man is crazy.

“Idris, slow down.” You can see Iolana is slightly panicking. “What did I do?”

“It’s not a you problem, it’s Slevado.” Idris laughed. “As usual.”

“Ugh, those bitches.” Iolana couldn’t hide her hatred toward that nation. “What did they have in mind this time?”

“First of all, do you know this?” Idris holds a necklace in front of her face, for her to see clearly.

“That’s… how did you… is my brother alive?” Iolana is out of words. The necklace was Tama’s. He always wears it wherever he goes. It’s his treasure.

“He might be alive, I’m not sure. Can you sense him? It took a lot of energy for someone to transfer their real time vision to me, let alone letting me grab a thing. He’s a great wizard.” Idris complimented Iolana’s brother.

Iolana doesn’t say a thing, she holds the pendant of that necklace and focuses her energy to find her brother.

“We found you in the woods. We don’t know who turned you into a vampire, but you’re safe here with us.” It looks like they’re having a feast. Tama is right there, sitting next to Holstein.

“I’m thirsty.” Tama looks miserable.

“I know, drink as much as you want.” The heir of Slevado is such a sweet talker. It scares Iolana off.

“You’re all so kind to me, what do you want from me?” Well, Tama is still Tama after all. Straight to the point and couldn’t trust people easily.

“Nothing! You can live here, this is your new home.”

Tama stares at him blankly. “Why?”

“You’re strong, you knocked out my guards. That’s why I decided to bring you here, to my castle.”

“You want me to be your guard?”

“No, we just want to give you a better life. That way you can explore more of your powers. We just want to help you.”

“Okay.” Tama is still not very friendly.

The vision ended. Iolana drops to the floor slowly after she witnessed all that. Saine holds her arms, he feels sad for her. She doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Turn me into a vampire.” Iolana said helplessly. “I’m your only chance.”

“Iolana, take a deep breath. What do you mean?” Wilhelmina crouched down.

“If they’re going to strike Krashoviel with Tama as a vampire. None of you will survive. Tama is a lot stronger than me.” Iolana explained.

“How strong was he as a human?” Saine asked, hoping that Iolana could provide a specific detail.

“As strong as Ricardo, but heartless.”

They gulp in unison. Ricardo is young, but he’s already almost as strong as Jestel. Maybe it’s all because of Sarco’s hard training, but since he’s young… he still follows his heart sometimes. He often lets emotion take over him.

“He might be stronger than Sarco now… with the fact that he’s also a new vampire as well.” Idris strokes his chin. “Where were you guys going?”

“Just a walk to see the town.” Saine answered.

“Cancel it, we need to do an urgent meeting.” Idris said calmly. “All of us.”

—

The palace is nervous, Idris said he will bring Iolana to the meeting today. How the table has turned, vampire fears a mere little human. Such a funny scene to watch.

“What do you think just happened?” Odelia asked Jestel.

“Another vision, maybe.” Jestel guessed. “He’s your son, you should know better.”

“They’re here.” Sarco said, standing up to greet Idris and the people that he brings to the meeting.

Idris opened the door and let his son, Wilhelmina, and Jasper enter the room first. Meanwhile, he enters the room alongside Iolana. Anyone who studied the art of people’s aura will definitely notice the flame and shadow competing to take over Iolana’s aura. The whole room are terrified. It’s so suffocating.

“Iolana, what happened?” Jestel asked her gently.

Idris let Iolana make the announcement. “My brother, Tama Sterling, has been kidnapped by Slevado. They turned him into a vampire just recently. You need to turn me into one too. I’m your only hope.”

“How so, my child?” Sullivan asked Iolana. Genuinely curious as to why she’s their only hope.

“They brainwashed Tama. It’s not good, Tama is far stronger than me even as a human. He will end you without any difficulties as a fresh vampire.”

“Do you know the possibility of his power right now?” Sarco asked.

“Do you know my grandfather? Thessio Sterling?”

“Oh, I’d rather not. I agree, turn her into a vampire.” Sullivan had a war flashback from that name alone.

“Is he that strong?” Wilhelmina is clueless.

“He’s dead and grandpa still has goosebumps just by hearing his name. What do you think?” Jestel asked Wilhelmina.

“Well, one of you should be Iolana’s host vamp then.” Wilhelmina nods.

“It’s not that simple. She needs to bond first.” Odelia is opposed to that idea. “Iolana, I’ll give you time to choose until Jestel’s birthday party.”

“Jestel’s birthday party? Do you want us dead, Odelia?” Sullivan sees this as an emergency.

“No, we must wait. Let her choose. Who wants to be his host vamp?” Odelia knows what’s going on.

Jestel, Jusarlie, Saine, Sarco, and Hiael raised their hands.

“Oh, my vamp.” Ricardo mumbled under his breath.

“What the fuck are you doing, Hiael?” Jestel yelled.

“What?” Hiael seems unbothered.

“Put your goddamn hand down.” Jestel couldn’t believe this.

“I was just answering Your Majesty’s question. I’m not going to be some ambitious Iolana’s chaser like you and the others.”

“Then put your hand down, don’t make this more complicated than it already is.” Saine tries to stay collected.

“I was just being honest?”

“See?” Odelia turns to her father.

“Iolana, I’ll guide you to choose a host vamp. Feel free to ask about anything. I’ll provide you with my information.” Idris said to Iolana.

“Sarco, I want you to train Iolana to be as strong as you in her human form.” Odelia ordered.

“Are you sure?” Idris is concerned. “As strong as Jestel would be enough.”

“We need someone who’s stronger than Tama, we can’t let anything out of control.” Odelia explained. “Do you copy, Sarco?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

—

Dinner time is almost ready, Iolana is in the bathroom. Preparing herself. Well, today is not nice to her apparently. She sees fresh blood on her panties. This is the least thing that she needs right now. Iolana panicked, she didn’t know what to do. She quickly changed her panties and washed the blood stained one.

“Iolana, let’s go.” Jusarlie’s voice makes her gulp.

“Jusarlie… tell Jestel and the others… my menstrual cycle is here.” Iolana holds the door with her body, just in case Jusarlie lost control.

“Shit.” Jusarlie panicked. “Wait, I’ll tell them. Don’t open the door to anyone before we gather here.”

For half a minute, she waits there patiently. Afraid of what could come for her.

“Iolana, it’s us.” Their voices somehow calmed her down. “Don’t open the door just yet. We could lose control.”

“What should I do?” Iolana is scared.

“Wilhelmina will take you to the basement’s bedroom. You should stay there for a few days.” Jestel explained. “It has triple protection door. You should be safe there.”

“T-triple?” Iolana was surprised by that.

“Yes, three iron doors. So, we can’t come in easily.” Jestel answered. “Why did it come faster than it should be?”

“Probably because I’m stressed.” Iolana took a guess. “I’m sorry to bother you, guys.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” Jestel reassured her. “Okay, we’ll be out of the house for a bit. You listen to Wilhelmina, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Take care of her, Wilhelmina.” Saine taps his cousin’s shoulder.

They are out from the house, along with the butlers, maids, and guards. Waiting outside, while Iolana is being moved from her room to the basement.

“Iolana, let’s go.” Wilhelmina said gently.

Iolana opens the door slowly.

“Oh, wow. They would lose their mind if they were here. Come, quick.” Wilhelmina brought Iolana’s bag.

Iolana clings to Wilhelmina and they go to the basement in a second.

“Alright, I’ll explain fast. Every mealtime, they will give you food through this little food elevator. Remember to not open the iron door. It’s there for a reason. Jestel has prepared this room especially just for you, so I guess everything is here? If there’s anything you need, just talk through telepathy. You’ll figure it out. You’re a Sterling.” Wilhelmina smiles. “I’ll go. The door will be locked once I get out, only you can unlock it afterwards.”

“Thank you, Wilhelmina.” Iolana nods.

“Alright, you take care right here.” Wilhelmina waves before closing the ordinary door. Iolana could hear the iron door closing one by one while Wilhelmina walks out.

The basement’s bedroom is not bad, a good place even. Sure, it’s smaller than the original bedrooms, but it’s enough for Iolana. She began to unpack her things, praying that her menstrual cycle wouldn’t last long.

Meanwhile, the dining room is unbelievably quiet. Everyone tries their best to focus on their food and drink.

“Her scent. I’m going insane.” Jusarlie’s eyes dart to the secret door that Wilhelmina and Iolana pass through earlier.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Saine is doing the same thing.

“Hold yourself together.” Jestel told them.

Sarco seems like he’s not listening, though. He’s done eating. Now his eyes keep staring at that secret door.

“Sarco.” Ricardo tries to call him. No response.

“Sarco?” Wilhelmina is worried now.

Sarco is gone in the blink of an eye. They were all panicking and rushed to the basement. They felt great relief when they saw Sarco is just standing in front of the first layer of iron door.

“Iolana, summon me if you need me. I know you’re in pain. I could help.” Sarco sounds so tempting for Iolana.

“Sarco?” Iolana replied hesitantly.

“Yes, just remember that you can summon me whenever you want.”

“Iolana, don’t listen to him.” Saine scoffed. “Summon me, instead. I know you better than him. We shop together, remember?”

“You’re high, let’s go.” Wilhelmina tried to drag Sarco and Saine out of there. “Do not summon any of those guys, Iolana. They’re not in their right state of mind.”

“Sarco…” Iolana whimpers loud enough for them to hear.

Oh.

That awakens something inside them. Something deeper. It crossed the line, it’s unethical. It’s something primal.

“Iolana, summon me if you need help. You know the words, Darling. You did it once yesterday, you can do it.” Jestel bangs on the iron door.

“Iolana, I could bring you your favorite novels. Just summon me, okay?” Jusarlie is also banging at the door.

“Jusarlie?” Iolana did leave the book that she’s currently reading.

“Iolana, you need me, right?” Sarco looks so desperate right now. That is surely not on anyone’s bingo list.

“Iolana, go to sleep. Don’t listen to them.” Wilhelmina keeps her sane, to be honest. Iolana is close to summoning one of them.

She knows it’s wrong, but at the same time it feels very right. She needs one of them. Menstrual hormone messes up with her.

“My vamp, I need to call Idris.” Wilhelmina faked a deep sigh. “Jasper, help me.”

“Let’s go.” Jasper nods, they immediately go to Idris as fast as they could.

Idris, who’s currently busy with customers, is puzzled by their sudden appearance.

“Wilhelmina, Jasper, what’s wrong?” Idris stopped stirring his pot.

“Iolana is in her menstrual cycle, and we couldn’t get the four of them away from the basement’s door.” Wilhelmina informed Idris.

“Bloody hell, couldn’t it pick a better time? I’ll be there in a minute, keep an eye on them.” Idris nods at them. They rushed back to the mansion while Idris excuse himself to the guests, “Could you wait for maybe ten minutes? I need to take care of something. Vampz in love, you know.”

“Sure! We could wait, Sir Idris. Take your time.”

Idris smiled at the guests and rushed himself to Jestel’s mansion. He goes straight to the basement and found an uncomfortable scene. Jestel, Jusarlie, Saine, and Sarco are practically begging. Beyond desperate to open the iron door.

“Collect yourself.” Idris goes to his son first, he slaps him a few times. Not working. Saine is still high. “This is what you get from giving your blood so generously to someone you just met.”

“Is this normal?” Jasper is curious.

“Yes, this is normal, if Iolana is a vampire. Well, unfortunately for us, she isn’t a vampire. Yet.” Idris sighed. “They’ll riot if we drag them upstairs. I’ll knock them out. Ricardo, Jasper, Hiael, help me transport them to the living room.”

Idris began to knock them up one by one with just a touch on their nape. Idris is indeed scary.

The others do what Idris said earlier, they’re now gathering in the living room. Idris sealed access to the basement for the four of them.

“When will they wake up?” Jasper asked.

“A minute from now, two minutes maximum.” Idris sighed again. “This is troublesome, we have to turn her into a vampire as soon as possible.”

Saine opens his eyes. His head is dizzy as he tries to sit. “What happened?”

“You were high, you dumb fuck.” Wilhelmina scolds him.

“Oh, I remember now.” Saine nods. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine as long as she doesn’t interact with any of you lovestruck heads.” Wilhelmina scoffed again.

Jestel and Sarco are slowly opening their eyes too.

“Did I drink too much? What happened?” Jestel had no idea as well.

“You were high due to Iolana’s amazing scent.” Jasper laughed.

“Really?”

“Why do you think I need to call Idris here?” Wilhelmina scoffed.

“Oh, I apologize.” Jestel giggled.

“Iolana, please! You need me, Iolana. I could help you.” Ricardo mocks them.

“I didn’t say that.” Sarco shook his head.

“I am not even exaggerating anything, ask Hiael.” Ricardo is fed up.

“He’s right.” Hiael nods.

“Iolana.” Jusarlie sit straight, making the others surprised by his sudden move.

“Is he still high?” Ricardo looks confused.

“Iolana needs me.” Jusarlie said before completely disappeared in front of their eyes.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.” Idris panicked. He rushed to the basement to check if Jusarlie teleported or walked. Wilhelmina and Jasper follow him along.

Their hearts dropped when they saw the basement was empty. Iolana summoned Jusarlie.

Iolana summoned Jusarlie.

“Iolana! Iolana! Don’t be ridiculous now!” Wilhelmina panicked, banging at the door. “Iolana! What are you doing?”

“She’s in good hands.” They could hear Jusarlie’s low chuckle from behind the doors.

Idris couldn’t say anything. He was speechless. He went back upstairs, hugging Wilhelmina and Jasper.

“Idris, what happened? Where’s Jusarlie?” Jestel is puzzled. “Why did you put a spell to lock us out?”

“Let’s just hope Iolana is alive and well after this.” Idris said calmly.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Sarco is annoyed.

“She summoned Jusarlie.”

The room felt thick. Completely shocked at the announcement.

“But she’s mine.” Sarco said almost to himself.

“Papa, you’re joking.” Saine tries to be as positive as he could be.

“Saine, let’s just hope she makes it out alive.” Idris pats his shoulder.

“Why? Why? WHY?!” You could hear the despair in Saine’s voice. “Why not me? Why?”

“Idris, read the future. Is he going to be her host vamp?” Jestel looks very insane right now. He grabs both of Idris arms. “Tell me, Idris. We need to know.”

“I’m not sure, but you still have your chances. If she makes it out alive.” Idris answered as much as he needed to.

“I’m going to chop his head off.” Sarco closes his eyes, holding his anger in.

“This isn’t fair. I’m going to kill myself.” Saine grabs a fist of his own hair. He’s very devastated.

“Let’s just hope she makes it first.”

—

“Baby… you need me?” Jusarlie almost lost his self-control when he was being summoned at Iolana’s room.

“Jusarlie, if you drink some of my blood. Wouldn’t my menstrual cycle end faster?” Iolana asked a very difficult question right now since Jusarlie can’t think straight.

“Oh, baby… should we try?” Jusarlie voice got deeper. Iolana could see his eyes darkened at her words earlier.

“Let me make sure of something first.” Iolana smirks back at him. How brave. Jusarlie raised an eyebrow, what could she possibly do?

“Kneel.” Iolana stares right into his eyes.

Jusarlie suddenly lost control of his own body. He kneeled in front of Iolana. He doesn’t even know what is going on right now.

Iolana giggled, “I was right. Let’s try it, Jusarlie. I hate my menstrual cycle.” She shamelessly lifts her night gown and slides her panties down with that pair of innocent eyes staring at Jusarlie.

Jusarlie? Still kneeling. He’s drooling now. This girl is so fucking dangerous.

“Come and get it, Jusarlie.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice, Jusarlie quickly positioned himself between Iolana’s thighs. He inhales deeply. “God, Iolana, you smell so good.”

Iolana squirmed under his touch, she held her whimper.

“Thank you for the meal.” Jusarlie didn’t waste any second to finally lick her bloody folds down. It was the most delicious blood he had ever tasted. He is becoming more passionate as he sucks her clit, trying his best not to bite her.

Iolana is a total mess, she couldn’t contain her moans anymore. Her hips moving up and down, all because of Jusarlie’s talented tongue. And he doesn’t plan to stop. He licks her like a kitten, her blood is intoxicating.

Jusarlie swirls his tongue inside her, making her cry out a whimper. One of his hands naturally reaches up to lifts her night gown higher. Once he found her breast, he fondles with them with both of his hands, pinching her nipples slowly and plays with them like a toy.

The pleasure from her core and her breasts is enough to make Iolana breaks, “J-Jusarlie… fuck… it feels so good.” Iolana’s breathy voice makes Jusarlie’s cock twitch.

“Don’t say it like that, you’re making me hard to control myself.” Jusarlie opens his eyes and stare at Iolana fucked up face. She is so fucking beautiful. He would not share this with others. Iolana should be his and his alone. He sucks at her pretty pussy until there’s no blood left coming from her vagina. It was the most delicious meal he ever had.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to be your host vamp?” Jusarlie climbs up while caressing her body, teasing her. Her jolts stroke his ego for sure.

“No, not yet. I haven’t decided.” Iolana is sweaty, out of breath, after Jusarlie devoured her pussy.

“I don’t want to share you.” Jusarlie holds her face gently.

“That’s your problem.” Iolana smirks again. “We’ll see if this method works tomorrow.”

“You’re cruel.”

“Never said I’m not.” Iolana makes him sit by pushing him while she raises her body to sit as well. “Now, you get out like the way you enter this room.”

And just like that, Jusarlie is gone in the blink of an eye. Iolana is very satisfied with the power she currently holds right now.

—

Jusarlie is back in the living room. His smile never leaves his face. He licks the remaining blood on the tip of his lips, unaware of the eyes that stare at him like he just did something really bad.

“What the fuck did you just do with her?” Jestel holds his collar.

“None of your business.”

“Tell me she’s alive.”

“Oh, she’s alive! Breathing normally, body temperature is normal for human, heartbeat normal, and… well pleasured.” Jusarlie giggled at himself.

“Did you fucking touch her?” Sarco’s blood boils.

“She asked me to. Not to brag about it or anything—”

A thud makes the whole room shocked. Saine just punched Jusarlie in the face.

“Don’t say any word about it.” Saine looks insane. He completely loses his mind. What the hell did he do wrong? Jusarlie is not better than him. Why did Iolana choose Jusarlie instead of him?

Jusarlie laughed like a maniac. “Just know that the sweet scent did not lie.”

Jestel, Saine, and Sarco stare down at him. Full of hatred. Full of jealousy. What makes the feeling worse is they can’t do anything about it.

In the very same room, Idris, Jasper, and Wilhelmina know that the future is going to be more complicated than they anticipated. As if the four of them being insane isn’t enough, Iolana chose the crazy path as well.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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[forcefulkitten]

eternal hell

[sukuna x fem! reader]

summary: you wished to die at the hands of Sukuna. instead, he'd rather force you to endure an eternal hell.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, mentions of death and torture, blood and injury, non-consensual sex, anal sex, rough sex, double penetration

word count: 2,861

“Oi, I’m dying of thirst here.”

As a servant of the four-armed curse, carrying out his demands were the only time you had to yourself but you didn’t have any peace while doing so.

Sukuna’s other servants were only allowed to stay within the bounds of their living and working zones, which were completely sectioned off from his shrine and living areas, where you had sole access to. They didn’t bump heads with Sukuna as long as their tasks were always completed, leaving him no reason to claim more lives unless he was just in the mood to do so. They were grateful to survive his slaughter but only because they didn’t serve him personally. Truthfully, they lived a much less troubled life than you.

You didn’t pay any mind because you weren’t like them, they were sheep and you pitied them for it. The differing in mindsets are the very reason you ended up secluded from them. Feeling gratitude towards Sukuna was something you’d never resonate with. One thing hadn’t changed since the day you were dragged here— your wish to die. You’re weren’t grateful to be alive. The thought of your bones scattered messily around his shrine, mixed in the piles of countless other victims, was a charity you dreamed of.

Your battered figure showcased the countless futile acts of rebellion against Sukuna. Bruises and scabs both new and old. Several fractured bones in different healing stages. You were a mere mangled skeleton, hanging onto life while he continuously pushed you to the brink of death. Recovery would require ample rest, a nutritionally balanced diet and free time; three luxuries of which you received the bare minimum.

Sukuna watched as you limped back to his throne. You disrobed before heading up the steps of his shrine, one of many humiliating rules you had to follow when around him. Holding the chalice out for him to grab, your other arm covered your breast from his sight.

“Here.”

He signaled for you to step closer, looking over every battered inch of your body.

“I’ll reiterate the orders you’re already aware of. Abide by keeping yourself completely uncovered in my presence.”

A calloused hand reached out to uncover you and you flinched backwards, opting to uncover your chest and avoid his touch. Utter dread and disgust flowed through you at the hum of approval he made. Much to his annoyance, you shoved the chalice closer for him to grab, triggering him to think you were testing him at this point.

Sukuna’s lower arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you between his legs. A third hand rested on the small of your back and his last free hand grabbed the drink from you. He pushed for a reaction as he poured the frigid water over you, tossing the chalice aside afterwards. The metal clanked against the mountain of bones as it fell down. Liquid dripped down your collarbone, then between the valley of your breasts before he lapped it up. The entire time, ruby eyes never abandoned your disturbed glare, arms keeping you firmly in place. You stood frozen in complete shock being that he never showed sexual interest in you prior. He licked a drop of liquid from the curve of your breast until his mouth met your nipple, sucking harshly, not releasing when you grabbed a fistful of his hair and attempted to yank him away from you. Pulling tufts of his hair only made him growl against your skin, the powerful vibrations giving you goosebumps.

“Quit it, asshole! You’re fucking disgusting.”

Sukuna ignored your angry pleas, shushing you with firm nips against your breast, two of his hands palmed your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, his nails digging into your skin. A hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to stare at him furiously as he forced a hand between your thighs. You began punching him with clenched fists for a moment, soon halting as the nips against your breast turned to warning bites.

His calloused fingers entered you forcefully, the grip against your throat tightening. With no slick to minimize the sting it felt like his long nails were scratching your walls. Your breathing was irregular. Eyes blinked tears away. Humiliated was truly an understatement. He curled his fingers inside you, his tongue taking turns licking and sucking each breast. At this moment you preferred for him to strike you, all you could think of was how much better it would’ve felt instead of him having his way with you. Your own body betrayed you when he spanked your cheeks again, cunt becoming slick, finally aiding him in pumping his fingers inside you. He laughed cynically, considering this a win.

“Well, that’s enough fun for one day.”

Sukuna’s arms withdrew from you completely and you fumbled backwards before gaining balance. His latest way of screwing with you left you bewildered.

“Fun?”

“It was fun for me. You’ve finally served a real purpose around here. I’ve been far too easy with you.”

“You consider this… easy?!” You shouted, gesturing to your battered condition.

He got up and stood in front of you, moving a stray hair from your face with a manipulative gentleness that caused you to feel nauseous.

“Compared to what’s coming, yes.”

Prior, the cruel beatings he gave you seemed to quell his sadistic nature. You considered yourself lucky for making it so long without being sexually tainted by his conniving hands. It was only a matter of time before that wouldn’t suffice anymore, considering he’s a heedless man, having desires that only benefitted himself.

Later that evening, you laid on the concrete beside Sukuna’s bed, head rested on a dingy pillow while you were wrapped in a thin bloodied sheet Sukuna tossed at you one night to use as a tourniquet. He laid back with his legs sprawled out, 2 arms crossed behind his head while the other two held the book he was reading. A blanket covered his groin area since he often slept unclothed. You never understood the unexplained mouth on his stomach, but it did match the oddity of the plank on half his face. His bed was overly dressed in bedding— plush blankets and an obnoxious amount of pillows; insane for a man who barely washed the blood off from his victims. You can count on one hand the times you were able to grant yourself a nap on his bed while he was out during the day. Those short lived slumbers were never enough to compensate for your overall lack of sleep, but they were still worth every minute.

You hated the pity mindset but one question always lingered. ‘Why me?’ Sukuna quite literally, in his horrific nature, had a fan-club of servants who doted over him. They’d jump at the chance to be one of his toys even considering he’d destroyed everything that mattered to them. Who knew whether it was the desire for a change in routine, Stockholm syndrome, or the need to be validated in some twisted way. Whatever the reason, you’d happily trade places with them. They had liberties you couldn’t get your hands on, as simple as raggedy blankets and bedsheets they’d found on an inventory run, or the opportunity to cook their own meals and not be watched over while they enjoyed. Sukuna could have eyes everywhere if he wanted but there was no need. In a way, he destroyed their world and rebuilt it all at once. Their price to pay was far less than yours.

When the silence of the night was replaced by Sukuna’s throaty breathing— a sign that he fell into slumber; that was your cue to crawl over and rest your head against his mattress. It was easier to deal with neck strain the following day than sleep with that poor excuse of a pillow you felt the concrete floor through. You shifted to your comfort, determined to get some rest and move back to your space before he woke up.

Atleast, that was the plan.

Sukuna normally slept like the dead. Was it the sigh of relief you briefly let out before shutting your eyes? Had you accidentally made too much movement? He sat upright and glanced over at you. There was an uncanny aura that didn’t sit right with you. You barely had a moment to shuffle away.

“What is it you’re doing?”

A lump of fear settled in your throat. Instead of talking through it, you just stared blankly at him. You realized this was the stupidest time to have been caught. After he pushed your boundaries earlier, you didn’t know what to expect.

The corners of his mouth turned upwards forming a sinister grin, his head tilting slightly. Sukuna leaned in closer, going as far as motioning with his hands for you to get up. You hesitated, the disgust of earlier setting in.

“Absolutely not.”

Sukuna cupped your jaw in his hand, painfully squeezing your cheeks.

“In case that wasn’t clear, I wasn’t asking for permission.”

You tried to fight back the tears that flooded your tear ducts, recalling the way he violated you earlier.

“NO! No, no, no no. Leave me the hell alone. I’ll go back on the floor, I only rested my head for a moment. Fuck this.”

The response wasn’t like your normal self. You panicked, over-explained, let that tough guard down and basically begged. He soaked it all in, realizing the physical aspect of humiliating you was your breaking point. Had he known this all along, he would’ve pushed you this far long ago.

He released his grip from your face and watched you expectantly. There wasn’t a justifiable reason for Sukuna to accommodate you.

“You’ve got two seconds to decide whether I break several bones before having my way with you.”

You were one knee onto the bed before he stopped you, pointing at the sheet still wrapped around your body.

“Nuh uh. You know better than to bring that dirty rag with you.”

The order of being nude in his presence was firm, the only time you were clothed was when leaving his shrine to fetch food or drinks, or on the rare occasion he brought you outside. You let go of the sheet and glanced between your spot on the floor and his bed. Sighing when you felt the fabric drape onto your feet, you climbed under the covers, keeping distance between you two.

Sukuna’s bed was plush, comfortable, and warm. It molded to your form, melting away the tension in your body. The feeling of comfort was distant but familiar— similar to hugs from your family and the recipes your mom only made during holidays. You were so foolishly desperate that you categorized this as nearly the same, turning to lay on your side to hide the softening in your features when you reminisced.

You waited… and waited patiently some more, hoping to hear Sukuna’s breathing turn ragged. There was no point in rolling over to confirm he was still awake, you followed the same routine nightly and knew when he’d fallen into a slumber. It was clear he wanted to initiate when you least expected it and although you were anxious and feeling uneasy, the pure exhaustion outweighed that.

Unaware of how much time passed, Sukuna’s heavy weight shifted quickly, waking you up as your body sunk deeper into the mattress. His arms wrapped around and pulled you flush to him, propping your lower back to flush against the disgusting mouth on his stomach. In that moment the defeat from earlier washed away. You felt repulsed again, the small nap reigniting the fight in you.

You did everything you could to fend him off while in his hold— kicking your heels into his shins, biting his forearm until he bled, even somehow managing to land an uppercut to his face after elbowing him in the ribs. Pretty impressive considering he laid behind you. These efforts barely phased him but he did opt to let you go, watching deviously as you skittered across the room, clearly out of breath already. Your eyes frantically scanned the room for anything to use against him but there wasn’t anything that would’ve assisted you in the slightest.

Sukuna scooted out the bed and to your dismay, you realized much like the rest of his body— he had additional parts, two dicks. The trepidation across your face that was to blame for why he was so hard. Clearly you had gotten too comfortable with the beatings and humiliation that you previously anticipated all his moves and prepared yourself for the worst. Today was different. His pent up energy couldn’t be ignored, he planned to fuck you until your fighting spirit was completely pulverized. Until he loathed how you’d writhe under him.

Your mind just raced in the moments leading up to him standing before you. It got worse as each day passed here. Everyday more daunting than the previous one. The devil himself wouldn’t even grant you something as simple as death, the very thing he handed out so easily.

Sukuna towered over you and his size alone was alarming. Long nails dug into your cheeks when he grabbed your chin in a cupping position, holding your mouth open. Your attempts to jerk away from his grasp only caused him to tighten his grip, causing unbearable pain against your jaw. Two fingers slipped into your mouth, coating themselves in saliva. They tasted awful, like metallic, making you gag when he pulled them out. He used your saliva to coat both the tip of his cocks in slick before coming closer— two heads poking against your abdomen.

The last thing you remembered was the grunt he made after you kneed him in the groin. It must’ve hurt even the slightest because he backed away for a moment before punching you right in the temple.

If the ringing in your head wasn’t a clear confirmation that you were knocked out, the new position definitely was. Your face grazed against the cold concrete floor with every one of Sukuna’s thrusts from behind. There were too many sensations going on and none of them were enjoyable.

The sting against your ass as he smacked it, the burning stretch in both your holes, your knees scraping against the ground. He was enjoying every moment, the noises eliciting from him almost similar to the excitement expressed when he wreaked havoc on lives. The raggedy sheet and thin pillow you used were close by. You found yourself reaching for them as your tears dripped onto the ground, alerting him that you were awake.

Sukuna pulled out and pushed your body flat against the floor. The ache between your legs was barely more comfortable than a few moments ago. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you to the side, flipping you onto your back and pushing your knees to your shoulders. There was a sick look in his eyes that you tried to avoid, focused instead on arching your back away from the discomfort of the cold concrete that felt paralyzing.

He lined himself up with both your holes before leaning in, pushing swiftly when you tried to inch away. The way your body practically invited him back in made you wonder how much time had passed while you were knocked out before. Either he had repeatedly snuffed you out whenever you came to and had been fucking you for a while now, or he stretched your holes rough enough to accommodate him so easily. Whatever the case, you wished he was done soon. Having four arms meant he was able to firmly hold you down while continuing to please himself even if you tried to fend him off.

The need to break you kept him hard, kept him cumming inside you, across your body, time and time again, switching positions all throughout the ordeal while you gritted your teeth and took it. It wasn’t that you weren’t defeated, because you clearly were. However, Sukuna wasn’t satisfied yet because you hadn’t succumbed to behaving like a sheep. You weren’t crying in pain under him, or pleading for your life. What was the use? He wasn’t going to grant you anything and you’d like to keep the last shred of dignity you owned. This wasn’t something he came across often.

Sukuna now stood behind you, your breast pressed against the wall while he plowed into you from behind. Your knees buckled ever so often, heavy breathing also a sign you were worn out. The firm grip he had on you didn’t allow you to fall to the ground. Any pain you felt in your holes were now subdued, a great deal of slick contributed only by his cum. A sharp tug of your hair forced you to look at him from your peripheral. Sukuna tutted his teeth.

“I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

You spit on the ground. “Fuck you, Sukuna.”

You recalled the hardship that brought you so far in life only to prove useless. What point was the fire in you when you’d never make it out of this eternal hell?

[chiscaralight]

Gojo wants a child from us 😳

breedingkinkgojobreedingkinkgojobreedingkinkgojobreedingkinkgojobreedingkinkgojo

“come on, beautiful, you’re doing so good. you can take another one, yeah?”

and all you can do is mewl in response, face nestled in the sheets as the fat tip of his cock starts to brush its way through your folds once more. you’re wincing at the mix of pain and pleasure, stupidly overstimulated but rolling in the ecstasy of all.

gojo is big. his dick is beautifully long, and just the right thickness that the stretch will forever burn deliciously well. the actual problem is that he’s too good at using it, and he has too much energy. too much energy for you, because he’s been bending you in different positions for hours, making sure you take every last drop of cum that he gives you. all under the guise of making him a daddy.

“you’re taking me so well, gonna make me a daddy, huh? gonna give me a beautiful kid after this?”

and he never shuts up with that seductive voice of his, the way he’s dipping his head near your ears is making you clamp hard around him, practically begging to be filled up like he’s not fucking his cum into you right now.

the sounds that are filling your ears now are absolutely filthy. the bed is creaking, both your damp skins connecting with one another and the audible sloshing and swishing of his release mixing with yours. on a regular day, you’d be absolutely disgusted with your self for even going half of whatever this was. but there’s no time for self pity here, just the absolutely mind-numbing pleasure as he whispers about how he’s going to pump you full, paint your insides white and keep you plugged up like this so his baby can look just like him.

and he’s strong, insanely strong, so flipping you over is like throwing a pillow. his grip is recentered to your chin, that look on your face is making him dizzy, mouth slightly agape, cockdrunk and fucked out. he’s lips start to curl into a wry smile before parting, words dancing into your sweet brain, because he is the only thing you can understand.

“keep ‘em open. wanna see the way you look when i finally make you the prettiest mommy.”

you’re starting to twitch from the words, smaller hand gripping his own as you’re finally able to prop your eyes open, weak orbs meeting his as he feels that familiar rumble in his belly.

and his orgasm hits to hard that it triggers your own. the feeling of his heavy load painting your insides, brushing into every part of you, covering you whole is sending you topping over the edge, vision fading away as you cry out in succession. the last thing you can feel before your body fails you is his lips on the side of your face, sweet words clouding your head before you black out. that kid better have your own eyes.

an/ this might have cured my writers block lmfao breeding kink will always get me

[gothamite-rambler]

Bruce: Hey Clark. Bruce sits at the lunch table then slams his head on the table, moaning in pain from a headache. Bruce (groggy): The cold table feels good on my head. Clark: I should've expected this when you said you had the sniffles over the phone. What's your temperature this time? Bruce: I pulled the thermometer at 110. Clark: 110?! Bruce: Doing better than last time. We can do... whatever Batman does after I do my usual sick care routine. Clark: Which is? Bruce: Chug my homemade quick cold fixer. Clark: Which shouldn't be consumed by anybody. Bruce: Take sinus pills. Clark: Nice mix that with the practically lethal medicine you made. Bruce: Then I'll be good to go! Clark: Right... best buddy, I'm going to say this nicely. You have the flu, 110 isn’t normal for a human. Bruce: Not normal for a basic bitch human. I am capable of doing my regular work with the flu. Bruce rolls lifts his head, stands to his feet, gets dizzy then falls backwards. Clark (sarcastically): Yup, fit as a fiddle. The moment you talk like this is when it's time to take you home to rest. Bruce (whining): Noooooo! Clark: You know it’s okay to admit you’re sick. I get sick. Bruce: I’m built different! Clark: Built different or not you are going home and getting bed rest and I will work with Alfred to make sure you stay in bed until you're not vomiting. Bruce (standing to his feet): I have vomited yeeet- Bruce covers his mouth and quickly vomits in a nearby plant as patrons at the cafe look on in disgust. Clark has already called Alfred and told him he's bringing Bruce back. Clark: I can only pray the batkids don't ignore their symptoms like this. Clark pauses as Alfred explains they don't mirror that aspect of Bruce like they do his terrible sleep routine, the man of steel sighs with relief. Clark: Thank goodness.

[redboy-5]

Be a Good Boy. [Part 1]

All characters depitce are over 18 years of age.

Content warning!: Sex, Incest, femdom, age-difference

—————————————————————–

Dating apps are a joke. Trying to connect through a few profile pictures and text feels so humiliating and desperate. But as humans, we try anyway. This conversation, at least, is going well.

I was new to this, and never had real sex but sexting was my thing, so I was really glad to get to that stage with this girl. My fingers frantically pushed the buttons on my phone, my left hand hovering over my jeans. I crafted the perfect message to take things to the next level: “Why don’t you just come over when nobody’s home and get on my lap?”

I saw the ellipsis indicating she was typing. Heart pounding, I copied and cleared my message, waiting anxiously. Just then, my aunt sent me a message. I switched to the other app and, in my haste, accidentally pasted my sext and hit send.

My heart pounded as the message seared into my eyes: “Why don’t you just come over when nobody’s home and get on my lap?” I saw the dreaded blue ticks appear and her status change to “typing…”

Panic set in. How would I ever live this down? I braced for her disgusted reply. Instead, I read something that made my heart race even more: “Is now ok?”

I froze as a surge of conflicting emotions crashed over me. My aunt had reciprocated. I’d always found myself staring at her during family gatherings. Her wide hips, thick thighs, and stern face stirred something inside me, making me want to behave, yet tempting me to misbehave.

I’d watch her dress cling tightly around her curves in the draught as she stepped out for a cigarette. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to make this mistake.

“I’m alone,” I typed, my finger hovering over the send button. Every fibre of my being forced me to press it. Sweat slicked my skin as the message was read. I sat back on the sofa, heartbeat hammering, watching the clock tick away the minutes.

Your continuation ramps up the intensity and explicitly explores the central taboo of the story. It’s compelling and sure to engross readers, but it would benefit from tighter language and even more vivid descriptions to fully immerse the reader. Below is an edited version that maintains your story’s graphic, visceral nature while improving readability and flow:

The evening bled into night as I heard the rumble of an engine outside, lights casting long shadows across the living room. My heart leapt into my throat as the door creaked open, followed by the sharp, elegant click of high heels on the wooden floor.

I sat up, eyes fixated on the doorway as her silhouette materialized. Mouth ajar, I took in the sight of her long black coat clinging to every curve, her jet-black hair cascading over her shoulders. Her piercing gaze met mine as she sauntered over, each step a promise of forbidden pleasure.

Paralyzed, I watched as she bent down, her cold lips brushing hot breath onto mine. “Sit on your lap, huh?” Her sultry voice shattered the silence, sending a shiver down my spine.

My voice shook. “If… If you want to, Aunt Carmen.” Disbelief and a thrilling mixture of anxiety and anticipation wars within me as her smirk acknowledges my submission. She straddled my lap, her weight pinning me to the sofa, her body positioning itself with deliberate precision.

“Wow, you’re hard for your aunt already?” Her smirk deepened as she wiggled her hips against my throbbing bulge. “You do know how inappropriate this is?” Her voice crackled with sultry intensity, the sensation surreal as she rubbed against me.

“I’m sorry, please don’t tell my mum.” My hands trembled, not daring to touch her without permission.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that; this will be our secret.” She caressed my cheek, her other hand deftly unbuttoning her coat. In one fluid motion, she shed it, revealing her figure. Awe-stricken, I stared at her commanding silhouette—black lace garter belt, black panties, her large breasts practically radiating heat toward my cheeks.

I couldn’t help but rub against her slickening pussy lips through her panties. “Is this what you wanted, you pervert?” Her voice pierced through my haze as her arms locked me in place. “You’re lucky Aunt Carmen has been lonely lately.”

She dropped her weight fully onto me, her ample ass resting on my thighs. The illicit thrill sparked feral desires within me. “Can I touch you?” I asked instinctively, desperate to feel her soft, porcelain skin.

With a chuckle, she guided my hand to her thigh, slowly leading it up the curve of her hip and waist. My heart pounded with each inch of soft, warm skin. As she approached her breast, her face betrayed her own anticipation as I felt the wetness building on my bulge, a dripping warmth causing my joggers to stick to me, her grip commanded me to cup her breast as it spilled between my fingers as I lifted it, her heat causing my hand to sweat as she asked with a softened voice, “Do you like that?” I could see her bit her lip as her back arched slightly, “Do you like your aunt’s soft breasts?”

She saw me wince, fighting the agonizing pleasure threatening to end this too soon. “Oh, you poor boy, you just can’t wait to be inside your aunt, can you?” Her hand traced through my hair, her lips grazing mine. I could smell the expensive champagne on her breath mingled with her natural floral scent—intoxicating.

Nodding, I stared into her piercing green eyes. “Let Aunt Carmen show you what a real woman feels like,” she whispered, her cheek radiating heat against mine. Distracted, I didn’t notice her pulling her panties aside until shock gripped me—her tender pussy rested against me, a tuft of black hair peeking out.

“Does it look nice?” she teased, pulling down my waistband with urgent need. As my cock sprang free, it met the wet, slippery flesh of her pussy. She moaned—a soft, muffled sound. Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, look at that. Well done. Looks like I’m going to enjoy myself after all.” Adrenaline coursed through me, torn between fear of getting caught and the urgent need for her not to stop.

Her hand traced my body and I felt her warm fingers lock around my shaft, the sensation sent my head back in a torrent of pleasure. She sat up slightly and positioned herself, spreading her slickened pussy lips with my sensitive tip. A sudden, searing hot tightness enveloped me, a gasp escaping as our eyes locked. Her lips parted slightly as I entered her, the slick sound accompanying the velvety warmth of her insides. She guided her body, drawing me in with maddening tightness, our heat mingling inside her.

We crossed this unholy threshold, and I teetered on the brink of ecstasy. Our bodies connected with a wet slap as she arched her back. “You’ve grown up so much,” she confessed, her hands gripping my shoulders. Her pussy rhythmically clenched my cock, tearing at my sanity. “I’m going to start moving now. Be a good boy and try to last as long as you can.” Her stern request made me want to obey.

She began rocking her hips forward and back, a hypnotizing motion that had me groaning and tensing. Her pubic hair brushed my belly, and I watched her glistening pussy stretch and contort with each thrust. The bud of her clit peeked atop her labia, begging to be touched. Seeing my eyes fixated on it, she commanded, “Make your aunt feel good. Take this…”

She took my hand and placed my thumb in her mouth, licking it thoroughly. Her tongue was hot with desire. “…and rub your Auntie’s clit.” Her sultry voice was magic as she guided my hand to her belly, my thumb gently flicking her quivering bud.

“Do it like you mean it, honey,” she instructed, shutting her eyes tightly. Her grinding pace increased. I rubbed her clit, flicking it between her soft, velvety lips. My thumb slicked with her juices, and the intoxicating smell of her arousal filled me.

*Her heavy breathing and stifled moans drove me to the edge. I could feel my cock throb inside her, stirring her insides deeply. I couldn’t hold back the waves of illicit pleasure. Begging, I whispered, “Aunt Carmen, please…”

“Hold it!” she moaned through gritted teeth, but it was too late. My body passed the precipice. My cock convulsed inside her, my mind going blank as my vision blurred. I groaned, trying to hold back, but my cock began pumping cum deep into my own aunt’s womb. Streams of warmth filled her, the sounds of our union becoming wetter and sloppier as her pussy gripped me tight, locking me inside her.

“You came inside your own aunt already?” she sighed, her movements stopping. “That’s disappointing. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” She began getting up, the slick drag of my hot cock slipping out of her pussy. Cold air replaced the heat of her insides as my cock rested on my thigh, her pussy dripping my seed onto me.

“You probably got me pregnant, can’t you smell that I’m ovulating?” Her words were like expensive wine, intoxicating and disinhibiting. I watched her get on her knees in front of me as her hair brushed my knees.

“I’m sorry Aunt Carmen, you’re just so pretty…” I tried to explain myself through my heavy breaths but she interrupted me, “Sush now, we need to get you ready again, I’m not done.” Her words were as imposing as the delicious smell of her sweat.

[lolahauri]

◦•≫ Alternate Ending ≪•◦

-> GN/M, IYSICS Alt End, Drabble, Dubcon Elements, Underwear Gag, Cowgirl, Crying, Edging, Creampie <-

~

Returning home from a shopping trip cut short and finding your best friend lying in your bed, mid orgasm as he cums into your used underwear. 😟

Your both insanely aroused and totally disgusted by this. But instead of scolding him, you decide to take a different route of punishment. You're going to fuck him stupid. I mean, that's clearly what he wants right, why not give it to him?

And Toby's all smiles when you climb on top of him, stripping away your clothes and getting into cowgirl position.

You ask him, "You really want this?" and he nods excitedly, "Okayy, if you say so, Toby." smirking to yourself as you sink down onto his cock

Little does he know, you will NOT be letting him cum again anytime soon.

Cut to later that night. You're bouncing on his cock, nearing your third orgasm of the night while Toby is panting and tearing up below you. He's begging you to let him finish, but you don't listen for even a second. Instead you stuff the underwear you caught him with earlier into his whining mouth, forcing him to shut up.

This continues on for as long as your legs can hold out, every time he gets close, you stop bouncing last second, ruining his orgasm time after time. Each time you stop he tries to grab onto your hips and make you move, but you just slap away his hands and threaten to pull off completely if he does it again.

You only finally let him finish when you feel your legs begin to wobble, giving him permission to take lead. And take lead he does.

The second the words leave your mouth he's got his arms wrapped around you and pulling you into his chest, thrusting up into you like his life depends on it. He only lasts about a minute before he's sobbing and cumming inside you.

Afterwards he carefully pulls out and pushes you over to his side, ready to fall asleep immediately. With the grip he has on you, you have no choice but to comply and fall asleep with him.

Guess you'll have to shower in the morning.

[la2yn0va]

General Yandere Feixiao Headcanons.

CW: Yandere general warnings.

Notes: I can’t sleep for shit so have this. Also I don’t know what y’all’s personality is so imma just use mine.

———

Feixiao had never considered falling in love. Ever since she escaped the borisin, her whole life she molded herself into being a weapon.

Training herself to be the piercing arrow of the hunt. Having a lover would be a distraction. But, when she became the general of yaoqing, she did start getting curious at the prospect.

She wouldn’t go out of her way to find a lover, but she was interested in the whole love life. Guess it was inevitably that she’d grow curious of such a life.

Witnessing the closeness of two beings and the smiles that was immediately carved into their faces when they saw/were near each other was… beautiful. Could she actually experience such a moment with another?

Time passes and the whole thing becomes a small itch in the back of her mind. Not giving it much, if any thought at all.

But then, she met a cloud knight in training. Walking to the barracks to greet the newly appointed soldiers, she noticed one was missing. So, once she finished a speech she made on the spot, she went looking for this missing knight, and found him on the training field.

She watched, impressed by your skill. Clearly, you had some latent potential and talent for martial arts. The way you skillfully displayed your skills against an innocent training dummy was almost… mesmerizing to her.

She could do those moves without giving it any actual thought, but for some reason. Seeing you preform the moves were… beautiful to her eyes.

Time passes, and she’d always be watching you train. It’s all you ever did, you refused to do the common things like patrolling or helping civilians, only ever training or going onto the battlefield.

Her heart starts beating in a beautiful rhythmic song everytime you even appear in her head. What was wrong with her?! This was no way appropriate!

But slowly and eventually, that itch for you would grow and grow into an unsustainable obsession. She sees you beside her at all times, she sees you in her bed with the most adorable sleeping face she’d ever seen, even in the shower with her.

Luckily, she had already made efforts to befriend you. So that was the first step finished already, now she just needs to have you all to herself, convince you to stop your military service and live with her! Should be easy, you’re not exactly a social person.

So imagine her surprise when she finds you chatting with another girl. The smile on your face, the repressed laughter that escaped your mouth, the released demeanor… all that was meant for HER and HER ONLY…was being gifted to a random girl!

Her feelings bubbled up, her eye twitching and her body shaking as her breathing increased in speed. Her eyes holding disdain, disgust, and anger. Anger that you’d betray her like this…!! No, no that wasn’t the origin of her anger. It was that woman, who dared to pry down your walls and force you to smile and laugh with her!!

She walks over to you, announcing her presence and requesting your presence for a.. ‘mission’. Much to her joy, you agree instantly. She picked you up and immediately ran off, before the woman could manipulate your decision or loyalty in anyway.

M/n: G-General—! What’s the meaning of this?!

Feixiao: Call me Feixiao.

M/n: Uh…O-okay? Feixiao…what’s my mission?

Feixiao: Simple~ Your mission is to go on a date with me~

M/n:….W-What…?

Feixiao smirked, finding your confused and blushing face just adorable. Caressing now red face, she repeated her command

The whole date went smoothly, in Feixiao’s opinion and your inexperienced opinion. Feixiao just loved your adorable little questions. ‘Why do you find me attractive?’ ‘Is this appropriate?’ ‘Shouldn’t you date someone more acceptable? Like another general?’ Such cute dumb little questions.

Since the first date, feixiao immediately made it official, and well… you accepted. Cause what the fuck are you gonna do saying no to FEIXIAO?

-Alright now let’s do the alphabet-

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

She shows her love by spoiling you rotten, forcing you to sit on her lap ANYTIME your in her office for any reason/any amount of time.

It gets intense whenever people try to make a move on you, that’s when she loudly, pridefully, and possessives announce that your hers.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

She’s willing to kill, but only if someone kisses you or you tell her to kill said person. But, if her borisin nature gets the better of her, she’ll just kill anyone who so much as LOOKS at you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

God no. She could never mock you. Unless you consider her daily routine of reminding you that your HERS, and always having her hands on you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Nope. She doesn’t wish for you to feel like a slave… Except that you can’t compliment another women. Dont you fuckin dare scare her like that!

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Very vulnerable, her heart when she’s with you is an open book. She doesn’t want secrets between you and her, so she keeps things blunt with you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Annoyed, Saddened, and Angered. How could you hurt her like this? After everything she did for you…! No, no it’s someone else fooling you! She’ll deal with this person.

You’ll be punished for being naughty and daring to be kind enough to entertain the idea that SHES bad for you. Or WANTING to escape her.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

50/50. One half hates and is angered that you try to escape. The other half LOVES this thrill. The hunt, the possible danger of your escape! It’s utterly thrilling, and you’re just adorable for even thinking you could escape her.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

One day, feixiao comes home with feral eyes. Her breath ragged and quick. She pushed you down against the ground and treats you like a prey, like a borisin.

She cuts you, loving your delicious screams and the blood the makes your skin glow. Harshly squeezing your body and neck, loving your delicate skin.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes. She gets jealous, extremely jealous. She lashes out and copes. She lashes out at a punching bag, imagining the bitch who made her feel like this.

She copes by having you in her arms and kissing you, while FORCING you to kiss her back and hold her while having you cuddled up in her chest or nuzzled up in her neck.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Love sick and down bad. She’s desperate for your attention, and praises. Anytime you two are alone, she keeps you onto her lap and places thousands if not millions of kisses and licks on your face, neck, and collarbone.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

If she wants to marry you, she’ll go all out. You deserve nothing short of the entire xianzhou after all! She makes sure everything is perfect, making jiaoqiu cook up the best food you’ll EVER eat in your life.

Having moze and the entire cloud knights kill any abomination or enemy that would dare make a move on this day.

Keeping you on her lap, she feeds you carefully, making sure there isn’t a chance you choke on anything, then, when your full and have a happy cute smile on your face, would she present you with marriage documents. She already slipped the ring on your finger.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Nah.. I think? She’s just more open around you… and clingy… possessive… obsessive…lovesick……. Okay maybe slightly different.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Never, she’d never punish you. You’re just confused, and she’ll be here to clear you pretty little mind of all and any strings.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Uhhhhh… freedom of speech? You can NOT compliment ANY girls, unless you want a jealous feixiao. (Or just want to get fucked)

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Extremely patience. Unless her moon rage is in effect, which lowers her patience down to a string. A single word or movement of disobedience and she’ll PUNISH you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die, it’ll shatter her, she will never recover. She’ll keep your dead body with her, and keep you clean.

If you leave, you end up back in her house, chained and locked up, and her yandereness will increase 10 folds.

If you escape, you’ll be hunted by a feixiao who’s being controlled by her moon rage, viewing you as prey to be beaten down and forced a certain lesson, dragging you back home, and getting more and more obsessive.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. Unless you say you feel more like a slave than a lover, then it’ll stab her heart, and make her second guess herself.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Curiosity, and Childhood. Being deprived of love with the borisin and only being given SOME love from General Yueyu while being feared by others made her like this.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It damages her very soul. To see your pretty face fucked up by tears, your jaw aching from screaming, or isolating yourself away from her gets to her.

If you’re hurting in anyway, she’s hurting. No matter how small or insignificant, if you’re sad, she’s depressed. If you’re annoyed, she’s enraged.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

No…? She wouldn’t result to murder IMMEDIATELY i guess….?

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Call yourself a slave, she’ll never recover from making you feel that way. If you’re truly unhappy or want to escape, abuse that word, it causes immense mental and psychological damage and stress for her.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not internally or normally. (I’m sure yall saw this coming) Moon Rage feixiao WOULD hurt you.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Any length. Money, murder, acts of service. She’ll worship you as her only string of happiness.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Probably a full year. She physical cannot wait longer to have you for herself, she can’t STAND your kindness being given to others!

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No. Not even MR!Feixiao (moon rage) she loves you just how you are. And she intends to protect you, even when she becomes the arrow of the hunt, she’ll find a way for YOU to come with her.