#if you have a kink on this please fuck off

[oreo-creampies]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: true form!sukuna, monster fucking with alpha!sukuna, A/B/O (meaning alpha, mega, and beta) no alpha and mega title used, daddy/mama, praise/teasing/mocking/praising degradation, biting, knotting, werewolf venom makes their mate go into heat to keep up like in the fic mine with werewolf toji, fucking on fur bedding, you said clan and for some reason my brain went wood bedframes and fur blankets no technology, we get candles for light, they have fangs venom and claws with sukuna have his true form extraness, double pentration, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, blood, pain kink, light size kink, toji is praising you while fucking you like he hates you, choking, full nelson, sukuna calls you pet twice, mind break, cream pie, fucking their cum into you. belly bulge from the amount of cum, forced orgasm, squirting

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Requesting for clan leader! Gojo 😔🙏 gotta have that breeding kink in their somewhere!! Mans whole clan is asking for an heir right after you get married. In my mind Geto is still alive and kicking and has his own family. Gojo gets a terrible case of FOMO and ends up wanting a whole litter of kids for himself. goin at it like rabbits for DAYS.

Oreo: not this being in the drafts since September! im sorry anon! This was also giving me werewolf vibes with the word clan so one think lead to another. it gave me the chance to write the reader belly bulging with sukuna's cum so im excited about that

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Slapping your sloppy cunt, stuffing his thick warm cum in with two fingers he bit the claws off on. Whining, twisting your hips away. Smirking down at you, crooning “Where ya going mama thought you wanted to make me a daddy?” Pulling you into place by your hips.

You want Satoru’s fingers, cock, tongue, and cum filling you up. “I do wanna make you a daddy but you're too much. Can't keep cumming, but I wanna at the same time." Hooking your leg around his waist pulling him in.

His eyes momentarily widen. Ordering in a needy plead, “Call me daddy again mama.” Sliding your hand over his broad shoulders, down his thick pecs and abs. Over countless thin and thick scars ranging from pink to white in color.

“Daddy please lemme feel you!” Sliding your hand down his hard abs, biting you lip when he purposefully flexes. Grabbing your thighs pinning you in a firm mating press. Following the short wispy whine happy trail down to his beautiful long cock.

Lining his pale cock head up with your soft lip. Stroking yourself with his cock, circling your soft clit. He's so warm, soft yet hard. His breathy moan gets you off. “But you are feeling me, what more can my mama need?” Dipping his head, sinking his sharp fangs into your tit.

Moaning, he's intoxicating, sweet, warm, and pleasurable like having him massaging your sweet spot with his fingers. Your body is getting hotter. Thick slick drips down, your cunt aching with an insatiable need for Satoru.

Flicking your soft nipple with his warm tongue. Sucking, sinking his fangs in deeper when you cry. Shifting your hips trying to slip him in, whining when Satoru pulls back. Whipping the blood from his lips with his thumb.

"What does my mama need?" Nudging your sensitive cunt with his cock, spreading his hand on your stomach pinning you still. Gliding his cock up your clit refusing to touch your clit.

Admiring how your cunt split to take his pale pink cock head. Pleading with him, "Please give me more than the tip! I need you to knot me, keep your cum deep inside my sensitive cunt, please!" Slowly giving you his head head, letting the soft ridge vanish before gliding out. Lightly tugging on your cunt.

"You sure you need more than just the tip?" Nudging in his head, leaving it there, pressing down harder when you squirm. "You said I'm too much mama, you sure ya need me to knot n’ cum in ya?"

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

"Fuckin finally I can stuff ya full of cum again." Bending you over on the soft pile of blankets. Pulling your ass in the air, squeezing when you wiggle, piercing your skin with his sharp claws. Blood trickles down trickles down your hip. Thick cum drips down your thighs.

The pain is sweet mixing with mind-numbing pleasure. It's impossible to think, you can barely process Toji grunting, “I've been wanting to breed your sweet tight cunt for months. Ya gonna be so beautiful with your tits and belly swelling mama." Gliding his softening knot out tugging on your tight cunt, his cock is harder than before.

Despite stuffing your cunt full of cum three times. Toji is getting hornier, fucking your limp body harder. Testing your limits seeing how much you can take before you break.

Stepping on your head, roughly fucking his thick cock into you. Trembling, your sensitive cunt is gushing on his cock. How can still cum after the fifth you couldn't think to count.

The thick blankets muffle your moans, “Such a messy lil cunt she’s a beautiful lil super soaker. Gonna make you cream on my cock till my knot won’t swell up anymore.” You would be convinced he hates you with the merciless way he's fucking his fat veiny cock into you. If not for Toji's words and the fresh bite on your neck.

Bent over, back arched, legs spread with your cunt stuff his heavy balls slap your clit. His swelling knot catching on your tight sensitive cunt. "Fuck mama squeeze my fat cock with your tight sloppy wet cunt. Nnn I've always thought about how hot of a milf you'd make."

Slapping your ass, squeezing your cheek. Fucking you harder, the fur blanket muffling your cries. "Your beautiful little cunt is always so tight when you're in heat." Moving his foot, your body lurches forward from the strength of thrusts. "Fuck you're so damn perfect mama takin' my cock like a slut." Grabbing your hair, yanking your back.

Your back hits his hard chest. Wrapping his hand around your neck, standing up, your legs dangle, held by your hair, neck, and his thick cock balls deep in you. "Please Daddy please daddy please!" Squeezing his thick veiny cock, he's filling you up perfectly, stroking your sweet spot.

"Since that's all my stupid little whore can moan, you don't need to breathe right? I can fuck your cunt into a gapping broken cum stuffed mess with my hands crushing your neck, right?" Grabbing your thighs, propping your calf over his thick forearm. Pinning you to his chest in a full nelson.

Squeezing your throat, groaning, "Ya gonna be a beautiful mama, gonna suck on your tits when they drip milk. Make sure they don't get too full like your pussy is 'bout to be." His swelling knot tugs on your soaking wet cunt.

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Gliding his thick, veiny tattooed cocks out. "It's starting to trickle out the sides." Pushing on your bulging stomach, thick cum gushing from your sore, gaping cunt. Sukuna croons, "Don't pass out on me yet pet I'm having fun playing with you." His stomach's tongue relentlessly stroking your sensitive clit. Keeping you in an intoxicating mind numb pleasurable high, boarding on almost painful.

Lining his cock up, rolling his hips, arching your back, twisting your hips away from his slow deep thrusts. "Please don't stop!" Tears roll down your cheek when he pulls your hips back into place. Lifting you off the bed, slamming you down on his thick cocks.

The tip of his sharp claws digging into your skin shouldn't feel so good.

Taunting you, "Poor little pet can't even handle me n' you're cryin' for more! Keep fighting to stay awake mama. I need ya to keep taking my cocks till they get soft." Using your hips to guide your hot tight, squelching cunt on his thick cocks. Your cunt clenches, it feels too good to be senselessly fucked into a mindless mess by Sukuna.

Biting your side and breast, your body jolts, and your cunt clenches. It's too much venom at once, forcing your sensitive cunt to squirt on his cocks. "Fuckin' messy slut soaking the whole damn bed." Gliding his hand up your side, cupping your breast biting down.

Giving that intense high of squirting, yet your cunt can only spasm, getting tighter. Your body shaking, toes curling eyes rolling back. "If you do pass out mama, I could fuck my cum into your soft beautiful cunt when you're sleeping." Smirking grabbing your neck lifting you up right.

Looking up from Sukuna's thick pecs into his beautiful face. Dark crimson eyes glowing from his rut. "It would be a pity if I couldn't see you I love seeing you cryin'. But I wonder if your sweet little cunt will grip my cocks the same." Grabbing his arm and digging your short sharp claws in.

Sukuna leans his head back groaning. "Ya feel so fuckin' good mama, seein’ ya fighting to keep going this long is makin' is exciting. I might not be able to stop until your body gives out." His massive body trembles, your soft, soakign wet tight hot cunt squeezing and squelching on his fat cocks getting him off.

Fucking you faster on his cock. Flexing his arms when you pierce his skin. Thin rivulets of blood tricking down his biceps. Sukuna hunches over to roughly kiss you slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You're utterly helpless to do anything but happily take Sukuna's thick cocks. It's perfect you don't need to think or move. Only get fucked till you can't handle anymore.

[littelovelunette]

could you maybe do vi x reader, and vi buys an extra large dildo, and surprises reader with it? a little bit of cnc and size kink

So Small And Adorable For Me

Contains smut, size kink, cnc, strap, degradation

"Hey, lovely." Vi appeared behind you and wrapped her arms around you, her pierced nipples rubbed over your back through the thin fabric of her shirt and yours.

"What's up?" You asked as you turned to face her, grinning as the older woman kissed your nose and forehead right after.

"I have a surprise for you." Vi said as she grabbed your waist in a gentle grab, massaging the flesh beneath her hands.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" You asked as you took your apron off, putting it on the counter as you followed Vi out of the kitchen.

"Just... Something I wanna try out." Vi guided you to the bedroom and you saw a huge dildo waiting there on the bed for you. It was huge and transparent with ridges on it too.

"Vi, I think it might be a little too big." You whispered.

"You've taken similar ones before, you'll take this one too." Vi smiled at you ever so sweetly.

That's how you found yourself, hands tied with your ankles as you struggled and struggled. Vi walked into the bedroom, the huge dildo fixed on her harness. "You look perfect." Vi gently held the side of your thigh, dildo against your slit. "And you're so wet." She added.

"Vi, please." You whispered, shaking your head although your pussy betrayed your arousal. The silicone toy's tip pressed against your hole and slowly started sliding in.

It was big, the ridges scraping against your inner tender walls making you gasp and writhe against the ties in pain. "Vi, please, it hurts!" You cried and squirmed.

"Fuck, your cunt is swallowing it with ease though, such a slut." Vi smirked and kissed your clitoris before making all of the dildo stuff inside with one thrust of her hips.

"Ah! Please! Not so deep!" You begged and whined.

Vi didn't stop, starting to slowly pick up pace as her hands came down to knead your breasts with both hands.

Vi didn't stop, your cunt making squelching sounds as she thrusted in and out of your hole.

Wetness seeped out and onto the toy, drenching the sheets too as your toes curled from the immense pleasure.

"Too much..." You whimpered but it wasn't enough to stop Vi from fucking into you.

Vi's movements never relented. "You're moaning so loudly." She commented as she grabbed your face by the jaw and gave you a very sloppy kiss.

"Vi, it hurts..." You complained as Vi left a messy trail of saliva in her wake and whined as your legs trembled.

"You'll take what I give you. You're a good girl, aren't you?" Vi asked, pulling your nipples earning a loud moan.

"Yes, I am..." You whimpered.

Vi pressed her torso against yours as she gave the dildo harder and deeper strokes making it sink in so deep it made your eyes roll back.

"V-Vi..." Your face scrunched up as you came on the dildo making Vi grin. "Seems like you like it big."

"Sh-shut up..."

[muqingslover]

Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)��ゞ]

Xavier

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

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Zayne

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

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Caleb

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

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Sylus

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

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Rafayel

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

[bbokicidal]

All About You | SKZ [B.C.]

Summary: Chan as a Service Top

Headcanons Genre: Purely Smut Pairing: Bangchan x Afab!Reader Warnings: Submissive!Chan but not really.. Dominant!Reader? Neither parties are too dominant. Riding, Chan topping, Reader giving Chan instructions, etc.

The definition of a 'Service Top' fluctuates; To some it means a Top who wants to be bossed around and instructed, to others it means a Top who wants to fulfill their partners wishes even if they dislike the kink/fetish, and to some it's just a top who is softer than most dominants.

You realize after the first few times of having sex with Chan that he doesn't really like doing some of the things you've explored in the past; He's too shy to initiate anything unless he's tipsy, he's not super grabby, he refuses to pin you down or put his hand around your throat. He prefers to let you take the lead.

When questioned about it, he's so shy. He pushes his hands down between his thighs before reaching to rub at the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears pink as he gently explains to you that he's never really been an overly dominant person in the bedroom - and he's a little afraid you'll be disappointed. He's sexy, built like a God - and unwilling to take control of you.

But when you smile and reassure him that it's totally okay - that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to - he seems to relax. He looks over at you with the kindest, gentlest eyes and a smile that makes his dimples pop as you tell him that he's more than welcome to ask questions, tell you what he likes, etc. And he feels so over the moon just knowing you're not upset with him about it.

Chan's favorite position is you on top of him; Riding him until he's pink in the cheeks, his hands resting on your hips but not pushing or pulling at you. He loves seeing you on top, using his body just to please yourself and not caring much about how he feels (even if he is also in Heaven.) And, of course, sitting on his face. He's leaking cum just a minute or two after you begin to roll your hips down against his tongue. He's obsessed with it - loves being suffocated underneath you and letting you hump his mouth.

He gets off on you praising him. Not too much, though. He likes to hear how good he makes you feel, how you're going to get addicted to his cock because it fills you up so good - or how his body is just a toy for you to use to get off.

Actually, Chan really, really loves when you call him your toy. Only in the bedroom, of course. But he does get all blushy when you make comments like, "Think I might use a toy when I'm done cleaning up after dinner." and then spare him a glance. He knows exactly what that means and while you finish up dishes, he'll run to the bedroom to lay down and get ready for you.

He also loves being told what to do - that's the whole point of being a service top, right? Being told what to do, how to do it, when to do what.

Though, Chan prefers when you're more gentle with him when it comes to instructions. He likes when you ask him to do something instead of demanding it because it makes the moment feel more intimate, more romantic. It makes him feel more comfortable when he's on top of you.

If you're on top, he's fine with you barking at him to fuck up into you faster or harder - But if he's on top, please be gentle with your words. He's doing the best he can and he's there solely for your pleasure.

A lot of the times Chan doesn't even care if he gets off or not. If you're happy and three orgasms in while he hasn't even come once, it's totally fine! He doesn't mind because, again, he's there to please you and you only. He doesn't care if he gets to release or not.

But adding onto that, Chan can come just from you being pleased. If he's fucking you and you're whimpering, writhing, moaning out his name and creaming around his cock - Yeah, he's probably going to come. Not even from the feeling, though it is very nice, but from the fact that he's the one making you feel that good.

On the occasion that Chan does take control and takes the lead, which is mostly when you're too tired or stressed about something to boss him around, he's still as soft as ever - but he'll have sex with you in a more.. love-making manner. He wants to make sure you feel good still and especially during these moments he's more focused on your pleasure than anything else. He'll use your favorite toys, be gentler with you, kiss over your skin and whisper how much he loves you. He'll also be more vocal during these times because he knows just how much you love to hear his voice.

I really don't have much experience writing or actually experiencing anything service top related so I'm sorry if these aren't the best. I tried!

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[drippingghoneyy]

Nothing To You - Silco X Fem!Reader

Summary: You argued with Jinx, which escalated into a conflict with Silco. You need him to care about both you and Jinx's well-being. He needs to focus on what’s in front of him. 

Genre/ Pairing: Smut, Make-Up Sex, Argument, Silco x Fem!Reader 

WARNINGS: MDNI!, SMUT 18+, Smoking/Drinking, Crying, tension, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, whore, piv, squirting, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex ( f receiving), tongue fucking,... (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 13k.

Notes: I am sorry it’s so long, I like to develop a story😭

I’ve been wanting to write about more people! So give me suggestions!

Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day! 

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The echoes of your footsteps bounced off the cold, concrete walls of the labyrinthine halls. Your breath came out in furious puffs, each exhale a declaration of your frustration. You had just come from a heated confrontation with Jinx, Silco's volatile and unpredictable daughter. Her eyes, usually a brilliant shade of blue that could charm the most stoic of souls, were now ablaze with rebellion.

The fight had started innocently enough. You'd only wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of the world you both knew too well. "You're too young," you'd insisted, your voice tight with concern. "This mission is for the experienced, for those who have seen more than their share of blood." 

But she was insistent, her voice rising with every word. "I can handle it," she spat, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore."

You watched her, the fiery determination in her eyes, and felt a twinge of pride. But the fear for her safety was stronger. "You're not ready," you said firmly, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. 

Jinx's eyes narrowed, the gears of defiance turning in her head. "You're not my mom," she retorted, the words landing like a slap across your face.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with accusation and anger. You felt a surge of heat rush through your veins, a potent cocktail of love and exasperation. "I'm still fucking your dad," you shot back, the words leaving your mouth before you had the chance to think twice. The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of your words. Jinx's cheeks flushed with a mix of shock and rage.

In the aftermath of the explosive statement, you felt your own emotions unravel. You hadn't meant to say it, not like that. It was a slip, a clumsy retort born of the tumult of feelings inside you. The bond you shared with Silco was complex, a tapestry of passion, loyalty, and the weight of shared secrets. But here it was, thrown out like a grenade in the middle of an already volatile situation.

Jinx's eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. She looked at you with a mix of horror and disbelief, the fight in her posture deflating. You could see the cogs in her mind spinning, trying to process what you'd just said. 

It was a low blow, one you hadn't intended to deliver. But the words had slipped out, a reflexive defense against her accusation, a reminder that she wasn't the only one who felt misunderstood.

As the silence stretched taut between you, you wished you could snatch them back, swallow them down like a bitter pill. But it was too late. The damage was done. 

You felt a pang of guilt, a stab of regret that you hadn't found a better way to communicate your fears. But the anger still smoldered within you, a coal that had been poked too many times. You weren't her mother, but you had played the role of protector for so long that it felt as if you were.

With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the echo of your footsteps to mock you as you went. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to fix this mess before it spun out of control. 

You knew that Silco would hear about this, and you dreaded the conversation that was sure to come. But for now, you just needed space, a place to breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

The walk to Silco's office felt like an eternity, each step a deliberate stride away from the girl you had just hurt. The halls grew quieter as you approached, the usual cacophony of the undercity muffled by the thick walls of the building. You could almost feel the anger coiling back up inside you with every footfall, a serpent ready to strike again. Jinx had no right to say those things to you, not after everything you'd done for her.

You had been there for her, through the late nights when she couldn't sleep, the endless days of training, the tears shed in frustration. You had been the one to pick her up when she fell, to wipe her nose and whisper words of encouragement when she thought she couldn't go on. And now she was questioning your intentions, throwing your relationship with her father in your face like a weapon.

Finally, you arrived at the large, dark door that led to Silco's inner sanctum. The brass knob was cold under your hand, a stark reminder of the chilly reception you were likely to receive once you stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold but from the anticipation of what was to come. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the storm that was about to break.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit room, the scent of leather and oil lingering in the air. Silco sat on the couch, his usual aura of stoicism cracked, revealing the storm clouds gathering behind his eyes. 

He looked up as you entered, his gaze sharp, demanding an explanation without uttering a single word. You felt the weight of his stare, a silent reprimand that was almost more powerful than any shout could ever be.

The office was a testament to his power, filled with artifacts of his reign over the city, each one a trophy of his cunning and might. Your eyes swept over them, a silent acknowledgment of the man you were about to face. Heart hammered in your chest, the echoes of the argument still resonating through you.

Silco's posture was relaxed yet commanding, one arm draped over the back of the leather couch, the other holding a half-smoked cigar that danced with embers at the tip. His legs were crossed, the ankle of one boot resting on the opposite knee. 

He hadn't moved when you entered, his gaze unwavering and sharp, like the blade of a knife that hadn't been cleaned in a while. It was as if he had been carved from the very shadows that painted the room, a silent sentinel waiting for you to make your next move.

The tension grew as you approached, your steps slow and measured, trying to navigate the minefield of your own emotions. You knew he was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice had the power to shake the very foundations of your world. The air was thick with the scent of the cigar, mingling with the faint metallic tang of his power, a constant reminder of the volatility that lay beneath his calm exterior.

You swallowed hard, trying to organize your thoughts, but your mind was a whirlwind of doubt and anger. You hadn't wanted to fight with Jinx, but she had pushed you too far. And now here you were, about to face the consequences. You felt like you were on trial, standing before the man who had been both your lover and your boss, the man whose trust you had just shattered with a careless remark.

Silco took a long drag from the cigar, the embers glowing brighter for a moment before he exhaled a plume of smoke. The silence was a living, breathing entity, wrapping around you like a python, squeezing the words from your lungs. 

You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his features remained a mask of stoicism. His eyes, however, told a different story, flickering with a mix of anger and disappointment that stung like acid.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know why she's so eager to go?" His voice was low, a rumble of thunder in the quiet room. "She's trying to find her place in this world, just like you did." The words hung between you, a challenge and an accusation rolled into one. He took another drag, the smoke curling around his head like a crown of mist.

"You've been her mentor, her guide," he continued, his tone even but the message clear. "But she's not a child anymore, and she'll make her own choices, just as you did when you came to me." His words were like a knife twisting in your gut, each one cutting deeper than the last. You knew he was right, but it didn't make the sting any less potent.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. What could you say to defend yourself? That you were just looking out for her? That you didn't want to see her get hurt? It all sounded so hollow now, standing in the face of his quiet dominance. You felt small, insignificant, like a bug that had dared to challenge a giant.

Silco's cigar smoldered between his fingers, the only sign of his own internal turmoil. His arm was casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed in a way that spoke of confidence and authority. 

He didn't need to stand to intimidate; his presence filled the room, a looming specter that was impossible to ignore. The flame from the cigar cast flickering shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

The silence grew heavier, pressing down on you like a physical force. You could hear the tick of the clock on the wall, each second a countdown to the inevitable. Your palms grew slick with sweat, your heart racing like a caged animal desperate for escape.

But you couldn't look away from him, his eyes a piercing and seemed to bore into your very soul. You knew that when he finally spoke, his words would be measured.

"Is that what you really think?" Silco's voice was low and controlled, a stark contrast to the tumult inside you. "That she's not ready because she's just a child?" His gaze never wavered, a silent demand for you to justify your words. You felt the first flickers of defiance rekindle in your chest. How dare he question you like this? You had been there for her, had watched her grow from a scared girl into a powerful young woman.

"Jinx is more capable than you give her credit for," you shot back, the fire of the argument not quite extinguished. "But she's still impulsive, reckless. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions." 

The words tumbled out, fueled by the residual heat of your earlier confrontation. You had seen the destruction she could leave in her wake when she lost control, had picked up the pieces of her shattered experiments more times than you cared to count.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows playing across his face, turning his expression into something more menacing. "And who made her that way?" he countered, his voice a soft growl. "Who taught her that chaos is a tool, that fear is power?" 

The accusation hit you like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You hadn't meant to make Jinx into a monster; you'd just wanted to give her the strength to survive in a city that devoured the weak without a second thought.

You felt the need to defend yourself, to explain the years of care and guidance you had given her. "I taught her to be strong," you said, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. "To stand up for herself. But she's still so young, Silco. She doesn't understand the gravity of what we're doing here." You took a step closer to him, the anger in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar he held between his fingers.

Silco's silence was a wall, an impenetrable fortress that you were desperately trying to breach. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the only outward sign of his own inner conflict.

"You're not her mother," he said finally, his voice as cold as the steel of the weapons that lined the walls. "You're her... mentor. And as such, it's your responsibility to support her, not hold her back."

The accusation stung, but you weren't about to back down. You raised your chin, a sardonic smile playing on your lips. "That's right," you said, the words dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not her mom. I'm nothing to her, apparently." 

The smile didn't reach your eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once been there when you talked about her. "And you're not her dad, but you're okay with her throwing herself into danger?"

The air in the room grew colder, the tension thick enough to slice through with a knife. You watched the embers of his cigar burn, a silent metaphor for the smoldering anger between you. Silco took a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke, his words were measured, each one chosen with precision. "I've always known that one day, she would make her own decisions. And I trust her to make the right ones."

The room was a battlefield, and every word was a weapon. You felt the sting of his doubt, the accusation that you were trying to control Jinx's life rather than guide it. "Fine," you said, your voice tight with unshed emotion. "If that's what you think, then I won't stand in her way." You turned on your heel, ready to leave, to find someplace where the walls weren't closing in on you.

But before you could take a step, Silco's hand shot out, his grip on your arm like a vice. "Don't," he said, his voice a warning growl. "Don't you dare walk away from this." His eyes searched yours, looking for something, anything that would tell him you weren't going to abandon her.

You met his gaze, the challenge in your eyes unwavering. "I'm not walking away," you said, your voice low and steady. "But I'm not going to watch her throw herself into the fire without a second thought." The silence between you was a battle of wills, two forces colliding, neither willing to back down.

Silco's grip on your arm tightened, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity that was more powerful than any shout. His silence was a cage, a prison that held you in place, forcing you to confront the truth of his words. 

You could feel the anger pulsing through your veins, a red-hot fury that demanded release. But you knew that now was not the time for shouting matches. Now was the time for reason, for understanding.

"You know what she said to me," you whispered, the pain of her words still raw. "How could you defend her after that?" The question hung in the air, a challenge that demanded a response. Silco's grip on your arm didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly, the anger in his eyes flickering with something else.

He took a moment before speaking, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floor beneath your feet. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said, the words a gentle admission. "But she needs to find her own path, just as you did." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for a sign that you would relent.

But the anger inside you was a living thing, a beast that had been poked one too many times. You pulled free from his grasp, your voice rising. "And what about me?" you demanded, your eyes flashing. "What about what I need?" The words hung in the air, a declaration of the tumult of emotions that swirled within you.

Silco's expression was unreadable, a mask that had been honed through years of navigating the treacherous waters of power and control. "You know I care for you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But my loyalty is to this city, to the people who depend on us." The words were a slap, a cold reminder that in the grand scheme of things, you were just another pawn in his game of dominance.

You felt the anger bubble up inside you, threatening to spill over. "Is that all I am to you?" you snapped, the words sharp as a whip. "Just another tool to be used and discarded when you deem it necessary?" The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your voice grew louder.

Silco's expression remained impassive, his silence a wall that you couldn't breach. It was infuriating, his calm demeanor only serving to fuel the fire in your belly. "Fuck you, Silco," you spat, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I'm not going to be nothing to anyone, especially not to someone who can't see what's right in front of them."

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the office. The door slammed shut behind you, the echo echoing down the hall like the final nail in a coffin. The rage inside you was a living, breathing creature now, pushing you to walk faster, to run away from the pain of his words.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you needed to get out of there. The labyrinth of the undercity stretched out before you, a maze of shadows and danger. But anywhere was better than the suffocating confines of that room, the room where you had just realized that maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong about everything.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the city assaulted your senses. The distant rumble of a hextech engine, the shouts of a street fight, the wail of a siren. It was a symphony of chaos that you had once found comfort in, but now it felt like a taunt, a reminder of the turmoil within.

You didn't look back, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. You just kept walking, your boots pounding against the pavement like the beating of a war drum. The buildings grew taller, the streets more treacherous, but you didn't care.

The wind whipped around you, carrying the scent of rain on the horizon. You felt the first drops hit your face, cold and sharp like tears. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You had to keep moving, had to put as much distance between you and that conversation as you could.

The rain grew heavier, soaking through your clothes, but the chill was nothing compared to the coldness in your heart. You had given so much to Jinx, had been there for her when Silco couldn't. And yet here you were, feeling like you had been discarded, tossed aside like yesterday's newspaper.

You didn't know where you would go, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not now. Not after what had been said. The rain mingled with your tears, blurring the world around you into a haze of color and light. But you didn't let it slow you down. You just kept walking, into the heart of the storm.

Silco's quiet dominance had always been a comfort to you, a rock you could cling to in the chaos of your life. But now it felt like a prison, a cage that kept you from being seen for who you truly were. 

You had been his confidant, his right hand, his... something. But now, in the cold light of his accusation, you realized that maybe you were nothing more than a pawn in his grand scheme.

The raindrops stung your skin like tiny needles, each one a painful reminder of your own insignificance. You told him to go fuck himself, the words a declaration of your anger and frustration. He had no right to speak to you like that, to question your love and devotion to him, to Jinx. But he had, and you had no choice but to leave.

The door to the building slammed shut behind you, the finality of it echoing through the alleyways. The city was a blur of shadow and neon, a living, breathing creature that didn't care about your pain. You stumbled through the streets, the rain soaking you to the bone. But you didn't care. You felt alive, the electricity of the storm pulsing through your veins.

You needed to find somewhere to think, somewhere to breathe. Your heart was racing, your mind a maelstrom of emotion. You didn't know what the future held, only that you couldn't go back to the way things were. The bond you shared with Silco had been shattered, and you weren't sure if it could ever be repaired.

Three weeks had passed since that fateful argument, three weeks of silence that stretched like a noose around your neck.

You had thrown yourself into your work, into the very chaos that had once brought you and Silco together. The Undercity knew you, knew the woman who had built an empire by his side. And it was that knowledge that kept you going, the whispers of your name on the streets a balm to your bruised ego.

You took solace in the familiar embrace of the city's underbelly, the grime and the grime of the streets a comforting reminder of your roots. The whispers grew louder, the rumors spreading like wildfire. You had left Silco, they said. You had abandoned your post. But you knew the truth, and it was that truth that kept you going. You weren't leaving; you were fighting for your place.

Sevika had become your confidante, your partner in crime. You two had always had a bond, a shared history of surviving the worst that life could throw at you. And now, as you sat in the dimly lit bar, her hand on your shoulder, you felt the warmth of camaraderie seep into your very bones. She had seen you at your lowest, had picked you up when you were nothing but a broken doll in the hands of fate.

The whiskey burned a trail down your throat, the warmth spreading through your chest like a comforting embrace. The bar was your sanctuary now, the neon lights and the smell of stale beer a stark contrast to the cold, sterile halls of Silco's fortress. You had made it a point to be seen here, to be heard. You didn't need his approval to be important; you had the city's.

The patrons whispered as you entered, their eyes following your every move. They knew you, knew the fire that burned in your soul. You were a legend, a hero, and you were back in the game. Each night you and Sevika would sit, plotting your next move, drinking and laughing and living. It was a dangerous dance, but one that felt so right.

The air was thick with the scent of desperation and hope, a heady mix that only the Undercity could provide. For three weeks, you had avoided Silco's fortress, the place where your heart had once felt like it had found a home.

 But now, it was just a prison you had escaped from, the bars of his expectations and the coldness of his words still echoing in your ears. The city had been your playground long before he had entered your life, and it welcomed you back with open arms.

That night, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick with oil and the occasional puddle of rainbow-colored chemical runoff. You were nestled in the corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey and contemplating your next move when you heard the door creak open. The air grew heavy with anticipation, and you felt a pair of eyes on you, unseen but palpable.

Jinx's footsteps were tentative as she approached, her boots clicking against the wet cobblestone floor. She looked like a lost kitten, drenched and shivering, her eyes wide and searching. She stopped a few feet away, her rain-soaked hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging to her slender frame. The bar patrons had fallen quiet, sensing the tension that crackled between you like an unseen electric current.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, when she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, the words thick with unshed tears. "I didn't mean it. I know you're not my mom, but... I don't know. I just wanted to go out there and prove myself." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to learn more before I can handle the big missions."

The room held its breath as you looked up at her, the whiskey in your hand frozen mid-sip. Her eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you would forgive her, that you would stay. And for a moment, you felt the anger melt away, replaced by the warmth of the love you had for her, the love that had led you to this point.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, her voice trembling. "I need you, I need you as... as someone who cares...please." The raw vulnerability in her words was like a punch to the gut, reminding you of all the times she had looked to you for guidance, for love, for acceptance. You set the glass down, the sound of it hitting the table like a gavel, final and irrevocable.

For a  moment, the bar was still, the only sound the steady drip of water from Jinx's sodden clothes. You studied her, the young woman who had once been a scared, angry girl, and now stood before you with the beginnings of wisdom etched into her features. The realization that you had been her anchor, her beacon in the storm, filled you with a strange mix of pride and sorrow.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said, your voice softening. "But you need to understand, I'm not here to hold your hand through every mission. I'm here to teach you, to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did." You reached out, taking her cold hand in yours, feeling the tremor of her fear. "And if that means you go out there and kick some serious ass, then I'll be proud of you."

A tentative smile ghosted across her lips, the first sign of the Jinx you knew and loved. "But," you added, "you need to learn when to pick your battles." You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the tension in her fingers. "I'll always be here for you, but I can't be everywhere at once. And if you go off half-cocked, you're going to get yourself killed."

The room exhaled collectively as the tension eased, the patrons returning to their conversations and drinks. But the moment between you and Jinx was still palpable, a silent understanding that had been forged in the fires of anger and regret. "I know," she said, her eyes meeting yours, "I just... I don't want to let you down."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of her fear and hope resting in your palms. You pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, the steady beat of her heart beneath your own. "You could never let me down," you whispered into her ear. "You're already more than I could have ever asked for."

For a brief moment, the chaos of the bar faded away, and it was just the two of you, the rain outside a distant memory. You could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, the burden of expectations and the fear of failure that had driven her to push so hard. 

And in that instant, you realized that she wasn't just your student or even a daughter-figure; she was a piece of your soul, a living, breathing part of you that had grown from the ashes of your own past.

Her apology hung in the air like a shimmering thread of hope, the first step toward mending the fracture that had formed between you. She knew she had gone too far, that her words had cut deeper than she had intended. And as she stood there, shivering from the cold and the weight of her own realization, you saw the truth of what Silco had said: she was growing up, finding her own path.

You held her tighter, the warmth of her body seeping into your cold, hardened heart. "You never will," you murmured, your voice a gentle promise. "You're more than just a weapon, Jinx. You're... everything." The words slipped out, a declaration of the love you had never truly allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You felt her relax into your embrace, her shoulders dropping as the tension drained from her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I just wanted to be like you, to be strong." Her admission was a knife that twisted in your heart, a reminder of the fine line you had been walking as her mentor.

You pulled back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with your thumb. "You are strong, Jinx," you said, your voice firm. "But strength isn't about rushing into every fight. It's about knowing when to stand your ground, and when to wait." You searched her eyes, looking for the spark of understanding, the light that would tell you she heard you.

Her eyes searched yours, the neon glow of the bar light playing across the wet planes of her face. "I'll try," she said, her voice small and hopeful. "I promise." And in that moment, you knew that you couldn't leave her, not now, not ever. You had made a promise to yourself, to Silco, and to the city, but most importantly, to her.

Three days of silence had felt like an eternity.

You had avoided the fortress, not ready to face the man who had questioned your place in his world. But the call had come, a summons that couldn't be ignored. 

Twice you had been sent for, and twice you had ignored it. It was only when the third message arrived, the tone more insistent, that you knew you had to face him.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You had spent the last seventy-two hours thinking of every sharp word, every accusation you wanted to hurl at him. 

But as you approached the doors to his office, you realized that anger was a blunt instrument. What you needed now was precision, the scalpel of wit and truth.

You were dragged before him, not literally but by the weight of the words you had left unsaid. His eyes searched yours, a mix of anger and something else, something you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down. You had been waiting for this moment, had been waiting to make him understand.

"You owe me an apology," you said, the words cutting through the silence like a knife. Silco's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he took a puff of his cigar, the smoke curling around him like a serpent. 

"For what?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

"For questioning me," you said, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "For making me feel like I'm nothing to you or Jinx." The room was a battleground, and you had drawn your line in the sand. You had come to his fortress not as a supplicant, but as a warrior demanding respect.

Silco's gaze never left yours, the unspoken challenge in his eyes making your blood boil. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said finally, the words a concession but not the apology you sought. "But you need to understand, she's not a child anymore." The anger in your heart was a living, breathing creature now, a beast that demanded to be heard.

"And what about me?" you shot back, the fire in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar between his fingers. "What am I to you?" The question hung in the air, a silent challenge that demanded an answer. Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers burning bright.

"You're... important," he said, the word a grudging admission. "But I can't have you putting her in harm's way because you're afraid to let go." His voice was firm, the finality of it a slap in the face. But you weren't about to let him off the hook.

"And what if I'm not afraid of her growing up?" you retorted, your voice rising. "What if I'm afraid of losing her, of losing what we've built together?" The words echoed off the walls, a declaration of the fear that had been festering in your heart for so long.

Silco leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning beneath his weight. "Is that what you think?" he said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "That I don't care about what happens to her?"

You stepped closer, the heat of your fury warming the cold, sterile room. "It's what you make me feel," you said, your voice trembling. "Every time you push her into danger, every time you treat me like I'm disposable." The words were a knife to the heart, the pain of his indifference a fresh wound that had yet to scab over.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the embers of his cigar casting a warm, orange glow across his face. "You're not disposable," he said, the words a whisper. "But you have to understand, this is bigger than us." His hand reached out, the gesture almost tender, but you stepped back, the space between you a yawning chasm.

"Bigger than us?" you spat. "Is that all I am to you? Just a pawn to be moved around on your board?" The rage was a living, breathing thing now, a storm that threatened to consume you both. His silence was a knife twisting in your gut, a silent confirmation of your fears.

"I've given you everything," you said, the words ripped from your chest. "Every part of me, and for what? To be nothing more than a tool to you?" 

The accusation hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the very essence of your relationship. Silco's eyes remained on you, unwavering, as if he could bore through your skull with his gaze alone.

"I've bled for you," you continued, the anger a living flame in your voice. "I've killed for you, loved for you, and what do I get in return? To be treated like I'm disposable?" The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's silence was a wall, impenetrable and cold.

"Do you even know what love is?" you demanded, your voice cracking with the weight of your pain. "Or is it all just power and control to you?" Each word was a dagger thrown at his heart, a challenge to the man who had once been your everything. But now, you weren't so sure.

Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers glowing in the dark. "Love is a luxury we can't afford," he said finally, his voice a harsh whisper. "This city, this war, it doesn't care about love." The room felt colder, the air thick with the bitterness of his words.

The silence between you was a scream, a howl of anger and hurt that echoed through the empty halls of the fortress. You felt the weight of his dismissal, the coldness of his gaze, and for a moment, you weren't sure if you could stand it. But you had come this far, and you weren't going to back down now.

"You don't give a fuck about me," you said, the words a declaration of your pain. "You use me for what I can do, for the power I give you." 

The accusation hung in the air, a grenade waiting to explode. Silco's expression didn't change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

"I've given you everything," you continued, your voice shaking. "My heart, my soul, my body." You paused, the words like a punch to his gut. "And what do I get in return?" You waited for an answer, but he remained silent, the smoke from his cigar the only indication of his breathing.

"I've built a life for you," you said, the anger now a cold, hard knot in your stomach. "I've raised your daughter, for fuck's sake, and this is how you treat me?" You stepped closer to him, the gap between you closing like a vice. "Like I'm nothing more than a whore you can use and discard?"

The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's eyes searched yours, looking for a way out, but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "You don't get to do that," you whispered, your voice a dangerous promise. "You don't get to use me like that."

He took a deep breath, the cigar still clenched between his teeth. "I know you're more than that," he said, the words a begrudging admission. "But this city, this war..." He trailed off, the excuses on his tongue tasting bitter.

"This city, this war," you spat, mimicking his words. "It's always about that, isn't it? It's never about us, about what I've given to you, what I've sacrificed for you!" Your voice echoed through the stark emptiness of the room, each word a hammer blow to the foundation of your relationship.

Silco's expression was a mask, unreadable and unyielding. "You know why I do what I do," he said, his voice low and measured. "You know the stakes." The implication was clear: you were being selfish, thinking only of your own feelings when the fate of the city hung in the balance.

"The stakes?" you scoffed. "What about my stake in this, Silco? What about the love and loyalty I've given you?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for some sign of emotion, some spark of the man you had once loved. But his gaze remained flat, his heart a fortress you hadn't the key to breach.

"You're right," he said finally, the words a cold slap to the face. "You're not just a pawn, you're a queen. A queen who's been playing by the wrong set of rules." His words hung in the air like a noose, the gravity of his admission heavy and suffocating.

You took a step back, the weight of his words pushing you away from him. "So, what now?" you asked, the anger in your voice a whisper of what it had been. "Do we just pretend like nothing's changed?"

Silco's hand reached out to you, the cigar forgotten, his eyes searching yours. "We find a way to move forward," he said, the words a plea and a command. "For Jinx, for the city, for us." But you could see the doubt in his gaze, the fear that maybe the damage was irreparable.

You looked at his outstretched hand, the veins standing out against his pale skin, the dirt beneath his fingernails a testament to the battles he had fought. And for a moment, you wanted to take it, to believe that things could go back to the way they were. But the words stuck in your throat, the anger a living flame that refused to be extinguished.

"How can I trust you?" you whispered, the pain in your voice a living, breathing entity. "How can I believe that you won't just toss me aside again?" The room was a cage, the walls closing in around you, the air thick with the scent of his cigar and the weight

 of his silence.

"You have to," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You're the only one who can reach her, who can teach her the way of the world without breaking her." His hand hovered between you, a bridge over the chasm of your emotions. "I need you." The admission was raw, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to the steel you were used to.

You felt the anger drain from you, replaced by a tired resignation. "Fine," you said, your voice a whisper. "But you need to understand, I won't be a pawn in your games anymore." You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs with the toxic fumes of your anger. "I'm more than just a weapon for you to wield."

Part 2: bc it's long...

Silco nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "You've been more than I could ever ask for." His voice was gruff, the words clearly difficult for him to say. But there was sincerity in his tone, a warmth that you hadn't heard in weeks.

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, the calloused thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You're not just a weapon to me," he said, his gaze searching yours. "You're the heart of this city, the fire that keeps us all fighting." His words were a balm to the wound he had inflicted, a gentle reminder of the respect and admiration he had for you.

"You've given me a reason to believe in something more than just power," he continued, his voice a low rumble. "You've given me hope." 

The warmth of his hand was a stark contrast to the coldness of his usual demeanor, the tenderness of his touch a promise that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, calculating leader he presented to the world.

You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words. "But I need to hear it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need to hear you say it." The words hung in the air, a silent plea for validation, for the reassurance that you hadn't been a fool for giving him your heart.

Silco took a deep breath, the cigar smoke swirling around him like a mist. "I trust you," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "With everything I have, with everything I am." His eyes searched yours, the depth of his feelings laid bare. "You're more than just a lover, more than just a mother figure to Jinx."

He paused, the silence stretching between you like a tightrope. "You're my partner," he said finally, the words a declaration that resonated through the room. "My equal in every way that counts." The warmth in his voice was a promise that he saw you as more than just a means to an end, more than just someone to share his bed and his battles.

"You're the one who understands me," he went on, his thumb still tracing the line of your jaw. "You see the man beneath the monster, and you still choose to stand by my side." His eyes searched yours, looking for the flicker of doubt that had been festering in your heart. "I need you," he said again, the words a lifeline thrown into the stormy sea of your emotions.

"You're the smartest, most capable person I know," he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your shoulder. "You've kept me sane in this insane world we live in." The praise was like a balm to your bruised ego, the recognition of your worth a salve to the wounds he had unknowingly inflicted.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words heavy with regret. "I should have realized sooner what you needed, what we both needed." His eyes searched yours, looking for a spark of forgiveness. "But I'm here now," he added, his voice a gentle promise. "And I'll do everything in my power to make it right."

The silence was a living, breathing thing in the room, a creature that fed on your doubt and anger. But as you looked into Silco's eyes, you could see the truth there, the raw regret that he had kept hidden behind his armor of power and control. 

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words a whisper that seemed to echo off the cold, stone walls. "I didn't realize what you needed from me."

His hand slid down to yours, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your bones. "I've been so focused on the war, on keeping this city alive, that I forgot what it was I was fighting for." His grip tightened, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive. "You've been here, by my side, and I've taken you for granted."

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of anger and pain that had been building for weeks. "You didn't just not realize," you said, your voice shaking. "You didn't even care." The accusation was a dagger thrown, aimed straight at his heart.

Silco flinched, the pain in your voice a blow he hadn't been prepared for. "That's not true," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've always cared, more than you know." He stepped closer, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I just didn't know how to show it."

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign that he had reached you, that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. "But I see it now," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "I see what you've been trying to tell me, and I'm sorry for being so blind." The room was a cocoon of regret, the air thick with the weight of his words.

"I'm sorry for treating you like you're disposable," he continued, his voice a rough whisper. "For not seeing what was right in front of me." His hand slid to the back of your neck, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "You're not just a weapon, you're the soul of this city."

You felt the weight of his apology, the gravity of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness. 

"But I've been so focused on winning, on keeping this city from falling apart, that I lost sight of what's truly important." His grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You're what's important."

The room was a prison, the silence a living creature that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. The rain outside had stopped, the only sound the distant echo of the city's heartbeat. You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his apology. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the man you had fallen in love with, not the monster he had become.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, the words a prayer. "I should have been there for you, should have noticed what you needed." His eyes searched yours, a silent plea for understanding. "I got lost in the chaos, in the need to survive." His thumb stroked your cheek, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. "I've been so focused on keeping the city standing that I forgot to look at the woman holding it up."

You nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible. It was a start, a crack in the wall of anger you had built around your heart. "I know," you said, your voice a whisper. "But I need you to understand, Sil." Your eyes met his, the depth of your emotions a raging river. "I'm not just a weapon to be used, not just a body to be shared." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the lines that had been crossed.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his hand moving to cradle your face. "More than I can say." The raw honesty in his voice was like a warm embrace, a promise that he would try to be better. You felt a softening in your chest, the ice around your heart beginning to melt. "Can I make it up to you?" he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, the first glimmer of hope breaking through the storm. "We'll start with talking," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of emotion. "Really talking, not just about missions and strategy." You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin a comfort. "I need you to see me, all of me." The vulnerability in your eyes was a silent demand for the connection that had been lost.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the question clear. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. 

You took a deep breath, the words a declaration of what you needed. "I want you to be present," you said, the words a whisper. "To listen, to care, to be the man I know you can be." The room was a bubble, the outside world forgotten as you waited for his response.

"I'll do better," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with conviction. "For you, for Jinx, for us." His hand slid down from your face to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your chests met. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you like a river retreating from the shore. His grip tightened, his other hand sliding around to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was at once gentle and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips in a silent question.

You opened for him, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed your body, a silent apology for the weeks of neglect. His thumb brushed the pulse point at the base of your neck, the pressure of his touch a reminder of the power he held. But in this moment, you were the one in control, the one dictating the terms of their reconciliation.

Silco's kiss grew more insistent, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, a testament to his desire. But you didn't yield immediately, instead pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You have to mean it," you murmured, the words a warning and a promise.

He nodded, the seriousness in his gaze unmistakable. "I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you." His hands slid down to grip your waist, his touch a silent promise. You felt your resolve waver, the anger giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

You leaned into him, the kiss deepening as his hands moved to your back, pressing you closer. His touch was a brand, a claim that you hadn't felt in so long, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to prove himself to you, to show you that he was more than just a monster.

Silco's hands roamed lower, cupping your ass, and you gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his desk, the wood cool against your skin. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, a silent vow to never let you go again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the heat of his body searing through your clothes.

You felt his hands slip under your shirt, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of your lower back. A shiver of pleasure rippled through you as his touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before unhooking it with a practiced ease. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside to reveal your naked breasts to the warm air.

His eyes devoured you, the hunger in his gaze sending a bolt of desire straight to your core. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, and you moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. His mouth moved lower, kissing and biting along your collarbone, his hands now working on the buttons of your pants.

As he pushed them down, you could feel the wetness between your legs, the ache of need that had been building since you saw him standing there, so strong and sure of himself. But now, in this moment, you knew he was yours, that he needed you just as much as you needed him.

The sound of your pants hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the only other noise the heavy thud of your hearts beating in sync. Silco stepped back for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, exposed and willing. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with a mix of desire and determination, before his hands returned to your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. His thumbs traced the insides of your thighs, the gentle pressure guiding you wider. "Every inch of you, so perfect." His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his mouth capturing your earlobe in a gentle nip that had you gasping. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, the words lost in the wave of sensation that flooded you as he began to kiss his way down your body. His mouth was a brand, leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. Each touch was deliberate, each caress a silent promise to never take you for granted again. His hands were firm, his touch sure as he explored you, his thumbs teasing your inner thighs.

"I'm going to make this good for you," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent your pulse racing. "I'm going to show you how much you mean to me." His mouth found your center, his tongue delving into your folds with a gentle insistence that had you arching your back. His eyes remained on yours, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every gasp that tore from your lips.

As he tasted you, Silco's hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements, setting the rhythm of your hips against his face. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "So perfect." His tongue circled your clit, the touch light and teasing, building the tension within you until you were trembling.

You felt your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palm, the pain a welcome distraction from the pleasure that was threatening to consume you. "Sil," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as his tongue swiped from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Let me taste you, let me make you feel good." His tongue delved deeper, the wet heat of his mouth surrounding you, the pressure building until you were sure you would shatter. He knew just how to touch you, how to make you come apart in his arms.

His thumbs stroked the insides of your thighs, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the fervent kisses he was placing along your slit. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, the words a warm breath against your sensitive flesh. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, but also with a gentle concern that made your heart ache. "I'm going to make you come so hard, sweets.”

With a flick of his tongue, he swiped from your entrance to your clit, the suddenness making you gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a spark that ignited the fire that had been smoldering within you for weeks.

His eyes never left yours, watching for every twitch of your body, every gasp that slipped past your lips. His touch was both dominant and tender, his mouth moving with a confidence that left no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he was doing.

He dipped his tongue in again, this time lingering just a second longer before pulling away, drawing a long, low moan from you that you quickly muffled with your hand. The sound of your pleasure seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding. 

His thumbs slid up to press against your clit, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, filling you up before retreating again. The rhythm was a symphony of sensation, a dance that you had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

Silco's eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire reflecting the flickering candlelight. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "So perfect, gods I’ve fucking missed you." His thumbs began to rub circles around your clit, the gentle pressure building the tension that had you teetering on the edge of release. His tongue swiped through your folds, tasting you, savoring you as if you were the sweetest delicacy.

"Silco," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as he focused his attention on your clit, swirling and flicking his tongue with a finesse that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each stroke was a declaration of his intent, a promise to never let you feel unwanted again. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, urging you closer to the brink.

He slipped two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. His eyes remained locked on yours, watching as your pupils dilated with pleasure. "So tight," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "So fucking perfect."

He curled his fingers, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His thumb circled your clit before using his mouth again, the pressure building until you thought you might scream.

Silco's tongue was a masterful tool, flicking and swirling around your clit, driving you wild. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built. His movements deliberate and focused, as if he was memorizing every twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips.

He added a third finger, the stretch making you squirm on the desk. "You're so wet for me," he said, his voice a low purr that made your toes curl. "So fucking wet." His eyes searched yours, watching as the pleasure built, the tension in your body tightening like a coil ready to snap. His mouth moved to your clit again, the gentle sucking sending shockwaves through your body.

You felt your orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly. "please," you moaned, your hand moving to his hair to tug him closer. 

He took the hint, his mouth closing around your clit, the suction a delicious pressure that had you biting down on your hand to keep from screaming. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, the sensation making your legs shake.

He was relentless, his tongue swiping and teasing, his fingers curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you on the edge. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire and love a lifeline in the storm of sensation. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a demand that you couldn't refuse. "Let go."

And so you did, your body arching off the desk as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. The sound of your muffled cries filled the room, your nails digging into the desk as you held on for dear life. 

Silco's eyes remained on yours, the intensity in his gaze never wavering as he watched you come apart in his arms. He didn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in harmony to draw out every last ounce of pleasure, his praise a gentle breeze that soothed your ragged soul.

"So beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his tongue lapping up the last of your release. He kissed a path back up to your mouth, his kisses gentle and reverent, a silent apology for the weeks of pain he had caused. His hands slid up to cradle your face, the warmth of his palms a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. "You're mine," he whispered, the words a vow that seemed to echo in the air.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you as his lips moved to kiss away the tears that had begun to fall. "I know," you murmured, your voice still shaky with aftershocks of pleasure. "But you have to be mine too." The words were a soft demand, a reminder that this was a two-way street.

Silco nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I am," he said, his voice a low rumble. "And I will be." His hands moved to unbuckle his pants, his cock springing free, hard and demanding. "I need you," he said, the words a desperate plea. "All of you."

He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a velvet whip that had you meeting his gaze. "I want to see you when I fuck you." His eyes searched yours, looking for the consent that you willingly gave.

With a slow, deliberate move, he pushed into you, the feel of him stretching you deliciously. "

You felt your eyes widen, the pleasure a stark contrast to the ache of his earlier touch. "Look at me," he murmured again, his voice a gentle command. "Let me see you." He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep, his eyes never leaving yours.

Silco's hips rolled into yours, each stroke a declaration of his dominance, his need for you. His eyes searched yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel seen in a way you hadn't in weeks. His hands moved to grip your shoulders, the pressure grounding you as the world swirled around you.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck, the gentle bite a promise of more to come. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a soft purr. You nodded, the words lost in a moan that you couldn't hold back. His hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing in gentle circles that had your hips rising to meet his. "Good," he murmured, his voice a warm breath against your skin. "So good for me, love." His praises were a balm to your soul, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Silco's hips rolled in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock stretching you open, filling you completely. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire a stark contrast to the tender way he touched you.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill of pleasure through you. His thumb circled your clit, his movements deliberate and precise, each touch a silent declaration of his dominance. "And I'm going to show you just how much."

You felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure too intense to bear. "No. Look at me," he said, his voice a gentle command that had your eyes snapping open. His gaze was a brand, a promise that he would never let you go again. "I want to see you come for me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "Let go, baby."

The praises fell from his lips like sweet nothings, each word a caress that had you writhing beneath him. "You're so tight," he said, his voice thick with need. "So wet." His hips picked up the pace, the slap of skin against skin the only sound in the quiet room. "You're perfect."

He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth as his cock claimed your body. His hands roamed your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. "So beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt yourself rising to meet him, your body responding to his every command. Your hips moved in a silent dance, the slickness of your arousal a testament to his skill. "Yes," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it."

Your moans grew louder, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of need. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You like when I fill you up?"

You nodded, unable to form words as the pleasure built within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might shatter. "Tell me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Tell me how good it feels."

"So good," you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. "So... fucking... good." The words were a chant, a mantra that matched the beat of his hips. His grip on your shoulders tightened, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark seduction that had you spiraling out of control.

And then you were there, the orgasm ripping through you like a storm. Your nails dug into his back as you screamed his name, your body arching off the desk as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Silco's eyes never left yours, his gaze a lifeline as you fell apart in his arms.

He watched you come down, his hips still moving, the rhythm never faltering. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a soft growl. "Mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to cherish." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that was burning in his chest.

Silco's grip tightened, his thrusts growing more demanding, his need for release an unspoken command. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. "Look at me while I come. Look at me sweetness." Your eyes snapped open, the intensity in his gaze like a brand on your soul. His movements grew wilder, his cock slamming into you with an urgency that had you gripping the desk for purchase.

His hips snapped against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh a symphony of desire. "You feel so good," he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the power he held over your body. You felt the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched as he held back, trying to make it last.

But the need was too strong, the hunger too great. Silco lost control, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck," he growled, his eyes going dark. "You're going to make me come." And with that, he let go, his cock pumping into you with a ferocity that had you gasping for breath.

You felt his climax, the hot spurts of his release filling you up. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent roar as he came, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, he remained still, his cock buried deep within you, his breathing heavy and erratic.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm passed, leaving you both panting and trembling in the aftermath. Silco's eyes snapped open, the pupils dilated and wild. His grip on your hips was bruising, his breaths hot and ragged against your neck. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own need.

He pulled out of you, the sensation of emptiness making you whine in protest. But he wasn't done yet. With a growl that was more animal than man, he flipped you over, your palms flat on the desk. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you to meet his renewed erection. "Again," he demanded, his voice a desperate plea. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."

Without a word, you pushed back, feeling him slide into you with a slick ease that had you gasping. His hips slammed into you, each thrust a punctuation to the silent conversation of your bodies. The desk creaked beneath your combined weight, the wood groaning in protest as you moved together in a dance as old as time.

Silco's hands were everywhere, gripping and caressing, his fingers digging into your flesh as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his arms and back rippling with every thrust. His breath was hot and ragged in your ear, his hips slamming into you with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through your core. The desk beneath you trembled with the force of his passion, the wood protesting with each punishing movement.

You moaned, your body moving in time with his, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. The sound was primal, a declaration of his dominance that had your inner walls clenching around him. "Sil," you whispered, your voice a plea for more. He responded with a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you deeper.

You felt his cock swell within you, the pressure building until it was almost too much to bear. His movements grew erratic, his need for release palpable. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he fought for control. But the dam was breaking, the intensity of your combined passion too great to hold back.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Silco lost control. His hips slammed into you, his cock plunging into your depths with a force that had you screaming. Each thrust was a declaration of his need, his desperation to claim you, to mark you as his. His eyes were wild, the pupils blown with lust as he watched your body take him in, your walls clenching around his length in a vice-like grip that had him groaning with pleasure.

The desk beneath you creaked and groaned with each powerful thrust, the wood bending and flexing beneath the onslaught of your passion. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving bruises that would serve as a reminder of this moment for days to come. His breath was ragged, his teeth gritted as he fought against the tide of his own desire. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, needy sounds of your union echoing off the walls.

"You're mine," Silco grunted, his voice a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. "All fucking mine." His eyes never left you, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every twitch of your body as he drove into you. "You're going to come for me," he growled, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had you panting for more. "You're going to scream for when you come."

He reached around, his hand finding your clit, his thumb rubbing in tight, fast circles that had you gasping for air. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark command that resonated through your entire being. "Now." Your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning, making your vision white out as you felt yourself squirt slightly, soaking the desk beneath you.

Silco's eyes were glued to the sight, the hunger in them unmistakable. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and possessiveness. "You're so beautiful when you come." His praise was intoxicating, the words wrapping around your thoughts and clouding your mind.

With each stroke of his thumb, your body trembled, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. "Sil," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sil, I can't." But you could, and you did, your body betraying you as it responded to his touch, his voice. His grip on your hips tightened, his cock slamming into you without mercy as he chased his own release.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice a gentle reminder of your place in his world. "Mine to fuck, mine to cherish." The words were like a drug, seeping into your veins and filling you with warmth. You felt yourself tighten around him, your muscles spasming as another orgasm began to build. "Yes," he hissed, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it. Take it all."

The room was a blur, the only thing in focus the feel of Silco's cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his tone a promise. "I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk." His thumb pressed harder, his movements faster, the pressure building until you thought you might burst.

With a final, desperate moan, you did, your body spasming around him as you squirted once more. The feeling was indescribable, the sensation of your release coating the desk beneath you, a testament to his power over your body. His grip tightened, his hips moving faster as he claimed your body, his own orgasm close at hand.

You felt him swell, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, his seed filling you to the brim. His roar of pleasure was a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, a declaration of his triumph. You collapsed against the desk, your body trembling, your heart racing as the aftershocks of your climax washed over you.

He didn't pull out immediately, instead staying inside you, his cock still twitching as he caught his breath. His hand moved from your clit to your waist, holding you in place as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a gentle caress that had you trembling. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Soaking wet for me, your cunt clenching around me."

Slowly, oh so slowly, Silco withdrew, the emptiness making you whimper. You felt the warmth of his release spill out of you, painting the desk with your combined pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the dominant beast that had just claimed you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of distress, the softness of his gaze a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Your legs wobbled as he helped you to the couch, his strong arms supporting your weight as you sank into the leather. You nodded, unable to form words as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to pulse through your body. He sat beside you, his hand caressing your cheek as he studied you with an intensity that made your heart race.

Leaning in, Silco captured your mouth in a kiss that was as soft as it was demanding, a declaration of his ownership that had you melting into him. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a gentle dominance that had you craving more. His other hand slid down your body, tracing the path of your curves with a possessive fondness that had you shivering.

He pulled back, a smug smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were a mess, your clothes in disarray, your makeup smeared, and your hair a wild mess around your flushed face. But to Silco, you were the most beautiful creature in the world. 

He leaned back, his eyes traveling down to the mess between your legs. The evidence of his dominance was clear, a slick mess that had your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and pride.

With a gentle touch, he wiped a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering on your skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the beast he had been moments ago. "For everything." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.

You nodded, the fight from earlier forgotten in the wake of the passion that had just swept through you. "I know," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. "And I'm sorry too." The words were a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you were on the same page, like you were a team.

Silco leaned in, his kiss gentle, almost chaste, but no less powerful for it. "Let's go home," he whispered, his voice a promise of warmth and comfort. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. Together, you gathered your clothes, the silence in the room thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. 

But as you stepped into the rain-soaked streets, you felt something shift. The storm outside matched the one that had just passed between you, but now there was a sense of calm in the aftermath.

Hand in hand, you walked through the city, the neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement. The rain had let up, leaving only a gentle drizzle that seemed to cleanse the air around you. Silco's grip was firm, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, the storm of emotions from earlier dissipating like the rain.

You stepped into the penthouse, the warmth of the building a stark contrast to the cold outside. The silence was a balm to your ears, the only sound the steady beat of your hearts. Silco led you to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. As he helped you into bed, the softness of the sheets was a comfort that seemed to melt the tension from your muscles.

He slid in beside you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. His chest was a wall of warmth, his heart a steady rhythm beneath your ear. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "Together."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words in your bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were united, a force to be reckoned with. The city outside was a canvas waiting for you to paint your love and anger upon it.

[writingwisterias]

I know requests are closed so there really isn't any rush, please take your time and respond when you are ready. :) But I would love to hear your take on the reader letting Leon use them as a toy, while he looks at porn or scrolls other girls profiles. I just want to be a vessel for his cock and nothing more <3

I sure can omgggg, I mixed this is with an idea that has been stuck in my head all fucking day! I know this is late lmao but it works perfectly. I can't tell if I hate or love it either

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Degradation Kink, Cock warming, Dom!Leon, Intox Kink, Age-Gap, Overstimuation, Dickhead!Leon, Erectile dysfunction (Whiskey Dick), Light Praise kink, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Reverse Cow-girl, Light Angst, Drinking, Alcoholism, Self-doubt

Vendetta!Leon x AFAB!Fem!Reader

It wasn't normal to have a relationship like this, you knew that. To be with someone so closed off to not only the people they care about but themselves. You knew you weren't going to get anything better with him but he still gave you attention. Still kissed your pretty tears away when he would fuck you. Being used by him at least made you feel like you had a purpose in this life, that someone actually wanted you.

It didn't matter it was just for sex. For Leon that was perfect having no connection to someone meaning he didn't have to spill the horrors that plagued him.

It wasn't unusual for you to saunter into bars, prying on the broken men slumped against the stools for free drinks. Uni was rough, barely having enough money to pay for your food yet alone the drinks you craved. All that work, a diploma under your belt just for you to be wondering here every night dressed to the point where your tits might as well just hang out. Normally as a thanks to the poor souls you would convince to get a drink or two, you'd drag the round back or to the toilets and give them a few pumps of their gross cocks and then leave them in the alleyway drowning in the aftermath of their orgasm.

Not Leon though.

He didn't fall for it. Leon's words never slurred like the others guys did, his shoes didn't drag across the floor in an eager drunken stumble as he followed you with a warning smirk. You weren't used to drunk men being so coherent with you, to actually realize they were paying for your drinks with the promise of a ghost of your touch. The growing pit in your stomach told you that you would have to do more than a few fake moans and whimpers to get him to cum. His looks made it worthwhile, his attitude demanded your attention and effort. Almost like if you didn't cave into this persona he put in place you weren't worth his time.

However, Leon differed to the other men, somehow in a more pathetic way that caused you to suck in you bottom lip to prevent the low chuckle. No despite the darker look in his eyes, the ego you were surprised even fit in the bar entrance. The poor guy could not get his cock to rise. His cheeks flushed pink as he stared at his stubborn dick as it flopped pathetic in front of you. Trust it to ruin his night further.

You thought Whiskey dick was just a rumour, never really experiencing despite all the older men you dragged around like a puppy on a leash...it until now. Maybe that's why you took pity on him and allowed him to drag you back to his home on a risky drunken bike ride.

It was all so dangerous...so thrilling. Being dragged back to the strangers house, the feeling of sipping the alcohol from the glass he held in hand. That night changed everything, not just for him but for you. Perhaps this was you purpose in life. Your true calling was to be this sex doll for a depressed alcoholic so he could finally get some release in his supposed shit life.

It should have insulted you more that the only purpose you to him was to be a glorified doll but then you would have gotten this lavish life. To be able to wander around his penthouse free of rent, money chucked at your feet to keep you quiet as he sauntered off to god knows where. Your soul purpose to him was to sit there and look pretty.

So that's exactly what you did.

Leon's cock was so far inside of you stretching the limits of your poor pussy. It had been hours since he managed to get it to even twitch let alone becoming hard enough for you to sit on it like this. He spent half the time blaming it on the stress from the mission he had just returned from and not the whiskey glass that was sat on the side table. Your throat burned from the neat liquid that he gave you. He had to share...he always shared. You didn't care though not when it took away the burn from his stretch or the ache in your thighs from where they remained spread out across his own.

He didn't pay any attention to you, no, his eyes were glued to the phone that he held out to the both of you. Your job was to squirm and clench him as he watched the porn he pulled up. His fingers absently moved around that needy little clit drawing figures of 8 around the puffy nerve. Smirking at the small gasps that left your lips as his finger pinched it. You couldn't see the video, not with the tipsy glaze that washed over them. Instead you had to rely on the stimulation he was giving you to reach an orgasm.

You moaned loudly as he finally started to move his hips, a shallow grind nothing like the pace the man had on the video he was watching. Leon liked to make it last, after all the days of him getting this hard and thick were far and few between. The sudden change was a lot for your tispy brain, his soft grunts filled your ear as he nipped at your neck. You felt his arm around your waist tightening as he adjusted you. "Shh, just take it" Leon grunted, his lips muting you in a harsh kiss. His lips tasting like the remains of the whiskey from his last sip.

"Good girl" He groaned as his hips grinded inside you, his length barely exiting you.

You cheeks flushed darker with the compliment, your back arching against his chest just for something...any form of simulation. Leon's grip loosened around your waist allowing your hips to circle slightly. You listened as his grunts soon turned into groans as he felt your walls contract around him. You worked yourself to an orgasm, providing him with the warmth as stimulation of your moments not entertainment.

Leon's eyes still remained only on the small screen. Watching the guys cock slide in and out of the girls pussy much like his was doing right now.

He watched your breasts bounce in the corner of his eye as you adjusted yourself to used his knees for leverage to bounce once his arm fell from your waist. Your nails bit into the fabric of his trousers. "Fuck" You muttered as he shfited himself to sink back in the chair, his legs spreading wider. "Shit I needed this...I need you" He groaned. You weren't sure if he was telling the truth most of the time. You could never tell if you were actually something to him instead of a glorified fleshlight.

"Much better than my hand or any toy...my personal little sex doll"

Each word sent tingles down to your pussy, your clit twitching against his balls. "Leon-"

"Dolls don't talk sweetheart, I want to hear my video"

An apology lingered on your lips along with your moans and whimpers silenced by the bite of your lower lip. You were you to do anything above your station for him. It was all becoming too much, his cock was perfect filling you perfectly as the tip brushed against that spongy spot inside. The twitches of it were becoming more violent the closer he got. His grunts and groans finally becoming breathless, all signs that he was almost done. That his tired dick was finally ready to pump the cum it was meant to do after so long of forcing it to rise.

Your moan slipped past your lips as your orgasm finally snapped, your walls sucking him in tightly. No doll could do that, squeeze him like a vice as they whimpered and shivered on his lap. "Fuck sweetheart" He grunted as he buillied his cum into you. His eyes only leaving the phone to pull you back against him to stop the obstruction to the money shot of his cum leaking out from between you falling on the fabric that surrounded his balls. He watched your chest rise and fall you heaved out breaths, your limbs becoming loose on him like a weighted blanket.

It didn't take long as guilt settled whilst he came down from his high. Leon the thought about the way he treated you, the way you just put up with it all with no complaints. As if that was your only worth in this life.

He couldn't bare look in the mirror not when the eyes of his younger self would stare back in shame. Instead his fingers placed the phone on the side table and reached for the whiskey instead. Drowning the thoughts was better whenever it was with your pussy or the amber liquid. He wasn't ready to face the younger version of himself. Or the belongings that he managed to keep buried deep on the top shelf of the closet, where they should stay.

He knew you had your own problems that's why you didn't hesitate as he bought the glass to your lips. You didn't cough as the burn of the amber liquid settled on your chest. Instead you looked at him, eyes begging and craving for something more from him. This was the only intimacy that you got, these post nut clarity where his mind was just slightly clearer. Perhaps this is all you'll ever get from him. The intoxicating whirlpool of Leon Kennedy.

[supernaturalfreakout]

Fester (possessed!Sam x fem!reader)

Summary: No matter how hard he tries, Sam can't keep you off his mind, and a particular demon has noticed. After a stressful hunt leads to a fight with Dean, Sam finds himself trying to dissociate, leaving him open for the taking. Meg seizes her opportunity, then proceeds to make sure Sam will never forget you.

CWs: Okay, this one's pretty dark. Triggers for non-con, non-negotiated/risky/dangerous kink, degradation, repressed desires, and lots and lots of guilt. If you are not comfortable reading any of these things, please DNI. 18+ MDNI. 🔞 There's some mutual longing here too underneath all the despair, but don't expect a happy ending or any fluff here. This is basically Meg screwing with Sam and having her version of a good time. If you like disturbing shit you might like this.

Thanks to @foxwinchester83 for the request. This never would have existed without you.

If Sam hadn’t let his guard down, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. 

If he hadn’t fallen out with Dean, slammed the motel door so violently it fell off its hinges, and ran until his breath was coming in shallow, wispy huffs—the stars above him no longer only in the sky, but sparkling bright and dizzying behind his eyes—then maybe he wouldn’t have ended up alone, pissed off, and incapacitated in the middle of this shit hole of a town. 

If he hadn’t lost his charm.

If he hadn’t stepped into that bar.

If he hadn’t drowned his sorrows in cheap whisky that turned his deoxygenated blood into honey, and his appendages into sluggish excuses for limbs.

If you hadn’t infected his memory like a stubborn contagion he couldn’t budge no matter how hard he tried. And if she hadn’t appeared: the haunting shadow that stalked his every move.

If Sam hadn’t let the bitch inside, the dumb fuck that he was.

It was nice at first, being out of control. It had felt nice for around five minutes, letting someone take over his body and just having things happen to him. He supposed that was why he’d started drinking. To dissociate. But he’d let thoughts of you fester. He’d let you affect him, and Meg had cottoned on.

After hijacking his body, Meg had also done the same to a car, and driven with haste towards the nearest highway.

What Sam was originally mad about no longer mattered. It was nothing compared to the horror he’d felt when he realized he was swerving off the road and barrelling towards your sleepy town.

Now, he was angry, drunk, incapacitated in a very different way, and most definitely not alone.

He hated himself for this. How could he ever forget you now?

Meg had seen her chance and grasped it with her filthy claws at the first opportunity, and now he was balls-deep inside the woman he’d been crushing on for the past six months, watching your pretty face contort with every deprived word that left his sinful mouth. 

It may have been his voice, but it definitely wasn’t him. And he was horrified to find that you seemed to be enjoying it. That he was.

Though he may not be in control of his hulking, sweaty body, he could still sense. He was still aware. Meg had made sure of that, slipping into his skin just loosely enough so he could still see everything. Hear everything. Smell everything. Feel and taste everything.

And you felt and tasted exquisite. Even better than he’d imagined a thousand times over. Spiced wine. Sweet, with just the right amount of tang to leave him buzzed and slightly on edge. But Sam had already drunk enough. He didn’t need another weakness.

But the sounds leaving your mouth–the moans that made his internal breath shudder–made him question his sensibilities and scold himself in the process.

He thought about the way your nipples pierced the air, and the way you’d arched your back for him—for Meg—when she’d slid his tongue down your stomach and attached his mouth over the whole of your dripping cunt.

The way your clit had tasted when Meg had plunged—without any warmup—two of his large, strong fingers into you, straight to the knuckle.

The way you’d screamed.

The way you’d writhed as your body struggled to accommodate him, and–despite the stretch–the way you’d begged for more.

Begged him to fuck you.

To tie you up.

To strike you.

To mark and bite you.

The way your mouth had felt around his cock. The way your drool trickled down his length—warm, wet, and slick. The noises you’d made when you’d gagged on him.

The way—despite his conflictions—every perverted act made his cock pulse violently.

You didn’t seem to be the kind of girl that would be into this kinda shit, but they never were, were they? 

It was all too much. Sam couldn’t take it. 

It wasn’t the sex that bothered him. The fact that you were enjoying his body delighted him immensely. It was the circumstances. Not what you were enjoying, but how you were enjoying it. The fact that it wasn’t him. Not really.

Is this what you’d expect from him if he continued seeing you after this? No. How could he even contemplate that? How could he go on after this? How could he ever look at you again without thinking of this moment? About how much you’d enjoyed him. Enjoyed her. He’d forever feel an imposter.

“Sam—” you gasped, and Sam pulled himself out of his reverie just in time to watch his hand slash across your ass in several merciless spanks. Squealing from the impact, you balled your already clenched toes and fists, muttering a string of curses Sam figured might as well have been Enochian.

Meg had flipped you over and was now taking you from behind in a rather undignified fashion. Your hands were still bound to the headboard with his belt, and he could see the leather chafing your wrists, making them red and sore. You didn’t seem to notice, or care.

Sam’s stomach dropped.

He wasn’t opposed to kink, as long as it was consensual. But he had not consented to this. Neither had you.

Meg hadn’t done it the way Sam would have; she hadn’t awkwardly asked you out, made you laugh, bought you flowers, or taken you on a nice date first. She had simply turned up at your door unannounced and proceeded to fuck your brains out.

But to Sam’s horror and delight, you seemed to be into it. Into him. And had invited him in willingly …

~

Sam felt your eyes wander over his body as he stood on your doorstep in the dead light of night. Your hair was mussed from sleep, and you were in your pajamas. Pink flowery ones. He’d woken you up.

“Sam?” You squinted up at him. “What… what are you doing here? It’s two a.m.”

Sam’s body shrugged and he heard his voice come out, rough from the alcohol. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. Like that was an adequate explanation for his spontaneous appearance in the middle of the night.

You eyed him curiously for a moment, then seemed to accept it and welcomed him in. As Meg made his body step inside, Sam cursed your naïveté at letting a man inside your house at such an ungodly hour. You were too trusting. You should know better than this. As a daughter of a hunter, you were well versed in the creatures of the night, but had seemingly forgotten all your training when met with a familiar face. He’d need to have words with you after this.

After this? After what? What was happening here exactly?

Panic set in as Sam trailed you through your hallway to the lounge, through piles of open texts and manuscripts. Though you were in ‘the life,’ you’d managed to live adjacent to it, dedicating your time to research rather than being physically involved in hunts. It suited you better. You’d always been more a thinker than a fighter; you’d even gone to college to study occultism to help with the cause.

Sam was attracted to you from the beginning. You were incredibly studious, and your discoveries had saved Sam and Dean from several sticky situations over the past few months. He owed you a lot. More than whatever was going to happen here tonight.

“Bad hunt?” you asked, and continued to ogle Sam as he studied your lounge like it was the first time he’d seen it.

Something like that, Sam thought, but Meg didn’t answer. He could feel her impatience rattle inside him. She wasn’t a fan of small talk.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” And when Sam still didn’t reply, you rubbed your arms awkwardly, like you were warming yourself from the cold.

Sam wanted to offer you his jacket. Apologise profusely for barging in like this. Instead, he felt his lips curl involuntarily.

“Truth is,” he said, and he turned to face you, your figure tempting in the lamplight. Nipples peaking through the satin of your pajama top. Fuel to the fire of his already vivid imagination. He stepped closer, and your breath caught as he backed you slowly against the wall. “I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about you. In fact, baby, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”

Meg wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. That was the whole reason he’d been so distracted and screwed up on the hunt. The reason Dean had gotten so mad at him for his negligence. It wasn't like Sam to fuck up like that. Not like him at all.

Sam watched you closely. Watched you squint at him like he was a puzzle to solve. One of your cryptic passages.

Solve me, Sam thought, his mind pleading. Realize this isn’t me.

He hadn’t missed how your eyes had snapped up to his when he’d called you baby. He’d never called you that before, and he started to sweat. He would never be this forward.

He half expected you to laugh it off, to take it as a joke, or tell him he was an idiot and try to send him away. What he didn’t expect was for you to move closer. Much closer. So close he could see down your top. To your cleavage. To the perfect curve of your breasts and the way your nipples stood, now undoubtedly erect beneath that flowery satin. He didn’t have to imagine anymore. It felt like a personal attack.

If he was more himself, Sam would clear his throat and force himself to look away. Store the image for a lonely day and let it wreck him in a stolen moment of satisfaction that would promise relief, but ultimately leave him with a deep-seated shame.

But he wasn’t. And he didn’t. His body refused to obey him.

He could sense Meg’s tendrils in his motor cortex, prodding around and manipulating his voluntary muscles. His eyes. His voice. His limbs… She’d pretty much left his sensory and autonomic tracts unmanned. How generous.

A low, insidious hunger stirred below his gut, something darker than just want. Something he should fight. And he found himself staring like a dog in heat. A predator that had finally trapped its prey.

Low and behold the thing he’d feared appeared. Nature took its course, and it was fucking obvious. He couldn’t even move his arms to tuck it beneath his waistband.

A knowing smile formed on your face as you looked him up and down. You’d caught him out. Sam’s heart stuttered, and for a second he thought you weren’t just letting him look. You were daring him to.

You drew in a breath. “Fucking finally,” you said. “I was wondering how long you’d make me wait.”

And before Sam could register what he was hearing, you did something he had been imagining for months: you rose to your tip-toes and kissed him. And as your soft, warm lips collided with his stern, cold ones, Sam felt his internal knees weaken.

He wanted to tell you how much he’d longed for this. Longed for you. Wanted to soften the kiss and tell you how beautiful you were. How intelligent. How every time he was around you, he’d forced himself to look away, because he’d never be good enough for you. How you deserved better than him. Better than a college drop-out and a pathetic excuse for a hunter.

Instead, he was insulting you. Degrading you. Using you. Worse, he was letting Meg use you in whatever fucked-up game she was playing. He’d been negligent–again. This was all his fault. He should’ve listened to Dean and gotten that damn fugly tattoo.

The kiss was heady and demanding. All sharp lines and rough edges. A clash of tongue and teeth. With every movement your breaths were coming heavier, hotter, and you were pulling him closer, clawing at him.

Sam found his hands grappling for your clothes. Your flowery pajama pants. Hiking them down. And then his hand was between your legs, just a thin strip of cotton between his fingers and your liquid heat.

“Sam—” you gasped, as Sam cupped your mound possessively. His touch wasn’t shy, wasn’t gentle, and Sam shuddered at the thought that this was how he’d touch you for the first time. So selfish. The guilt that was his constant companion wound around his throat, constricting his internal voice, choking him harder with every effort he made to break free.

Sam wanted to take his time with you, to map your body with his mind and to notice every detail; how you liked to be touched and where, to gauge your reactions with every pass of his fingertips. But he wasn’t given that choice. This was an excavation, not an exploration.

 “Come upstairs,” you pleaded against his cheek, and bit your lip to stifle a moan as Sam started prodding you through your panties. “Please, Sammy ... want you in my bed.”

Sam heard Meg laugh, then speak to him for the first time.

She’s a brash little thing, isn’t she? I can see why you like her. A natural submissive, with a hint of defiance. This will be fun. Oh, how I love to watch them break. Better appease her first, though …

“Sure, baby,” Sam heard himself say, then let himself be pulled up the stairs.

~

This wasn’t fair. You deserved more than this. A conversation, at least. A safe word.

But Meg wasn’t big on safe words; she was only big on pain.

But this was never about harming you, Sam realized. It was about torturing him. It was always about torturing him ...

So, you’ve cottoned on, puppet?

Meg’s voice in Sam’s head rang clear as the highway had been when they’d driven here. Her voice was gloating.

You’ve always been my favorite toy, Sam. You’re so fun to play with. Big... Commanding... Full of self-loathing... You make it so easy.

Sam felt the threads around his internal voice loosen. She was allowing him to speak.

Get out of me, he growled. Leave her alone. Fuck off back to Hell.

Lighten up, Bullwinkle. She’s game. She wants this, clearly. She’s not as innocent as you think. Or are you really that dumb? Look at her.

And Sam did; he had no choice.

Meg flipped you over again so he was forced to look at your face, and he watched as your eyes rolled back in your head with every punishing thrust of his hips.

You looked like a broken doll.

Incapacitated, vulnerable, and…

Hot.

Incredibly fucking hot with your eyes glazed, tits bouncing, hair mussed, wrists bound, and legs spread wide for him.

Fuck. The fact that he was even deriving a single ounce of pleasure from this was unspeakable. Abhorrent. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t thinking straight.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Yeah, must be the alcohol …

With Sam’s lips, Meg smiled a sadistic grin and re-tightened her threads. Sam felt his larynx constrict, choking him quiet as Meg grasped you by the heels and sucked several of your pretty little toes into the pink flesh of his mouth.

Even they tasted sweet.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“God—” you choked out, squirming. In delight or disgust, Sam couldn’t tell any more. Maybe it was both.

Not everyone plays by the rules, puppet, Meg continued. You should know that more than anyone ... I wonder how many other men she’s fucked like this. Must be quite a few. She clearly knows what she wants.

Sam felt a rage that incapacitated him further. But he was completely at her mercy, unable to do anything to prevent this.

He pulled your foot from his mouth, your toes now shiny with his spit, and grazed his teeth along the inside of your calf, leaving several bruising bites.

A dog gnawing on a bone.

A rabid animal.

And stop lying to yourself. Your mind may be capable of deceit, but your meat-suit isn’t. The body doesn’t lie. That was all you…

That was, also, frustratingly true. Despite his intoxication, Sam hadn’t had any trouble getting it up. Of course he hadn’t—it was you. He’d imagined this moment too many times: you, naked, below him, screaming his name. He’d pleasured himself to that thought no less than ten times in the past week alone. It had gotten a little out of hand.

You want this too, puppet. Repression’s an insidious thing. Has no one ever told you that? I’ve seen how you’ve thought about her. The things you’ve imagined... You’re as sick as I am. I’m not doing anything you haven’t already thought about. I’m doing you a favour. Give her what she wants. Give in to the darkness that’s already inside you.

No, Sam thought defiantly, his vision swimming, stars falling like specks of dust. Not like this…

She wants this, puppet. If you won’t give her what she wants, then I will. You have no choice. She’s a pretty little thing. Even when she screams. I wonder what she looks like when the light’s leaving her eyes.

NO, Sam thought, but his hands were already grappling for your neck, his long, skilful fingers hovering over your carotid arteries.

“You want this, baby?” Sam heard himself ask. “You want me to fuck you up?” His voice was still thick from the whisky, and he was horrified to see you nod, dazed though you were.

Sam could hear Meg laughing in his head. This wasn’t funny. It was exactly the opposite. She was screwing with him well, making out that any aspect of this was consensual. She’d learnt that the hard way with Jo. If she was too obvious, you’d know this wasn’t him, surely? Surely you would?

“Just to be clear, you want this, right? ‘Cause I wouldn’t want to hurt you, baby.” Then Meg ran a hand down the rippling muscles in his arm and flexed, making him look like a total jackass. “I’m a big guy, if you hadn’t noticed.” Again, total jackass move.

“Yes, Sammy,” you rasped, watching him beneath heavy lids, mouth parted in awe. “Of course I’ve noticed ... I’ve been waiting so long for this ... For you.”

Sam felt his stomach drop again and fall through the earth. How could you believe this was really him?

You see, Meg taunted. She’s game, baby.

The admission did nothing to reassure Sam. In fact it only made the guilt worse. Hearing that you’d wanted him too, for some time, and were willing to overlook this problematic behavior, hit him like a punch to the gut. It shouldn’t have gone like this. You deserved more. So much more. You deserved to be made to feel loved, not lusted over and debased like a cheap whore.

Meg placed his hand around your neck and squeezed, and the moan you gave in response sent shivers up his spine. With every following word that left his mouth, he felt his grip tighten, your blood pulsing beneath his fingers. “You’re a depraved little slut, huh? Who’d have thought? It’s always the quiet ones. Lose all sense of dignity when they’re being fucked.”

At that, Sam’s hands withdrew and you gasped, your breath shallow and whiny, and your eyes reflected something other than pleasure for the first time tonight. They flashed black, and Sam could see himself in them. It looked a little like fear.

Meg laughed. At you. At Sam’s clear perturbance. And then with a force he never would dare use, drew back his hand and slapped you across the face. You were so small compared to him, so delicate, it wouldn’t take much to break you.

Don’t worry, Meg said. You’re not going to kill her. I can’t deal with reapers right now. They ruin all the fun.

Sam watched your supple skin bloom from the impact of his hand, and your head loll to the side. A single tear rolled down your cheek and pooled in the crevice between your collarbones. You looked undoubtedly out of it, whimpering incomprehensibly, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for Meg. If she couldn’t have you dead, she’d have the next best thing.

Please, Sam begged, as his hand returned to collar your throat. No more. Do what you want with me, but leave her out of this…

As his fingers constricted even further around your neck, Sam couldn’t deny how pretty it looked–his hand around your throat like a gorget. It fit perfectly, like it was meant to be there.

Trouble was, a gorget was meant to protect you, and he was doing the exact opposite…

Maybe you’re not a lost cause after all, Meg chuckled. Damn this is fun.

Fuck, Sam thought, as he struggled in vain to put an end to this violent act, his vile thoughts. But it was too late; the light was already leaving your eyes, your face was turning redder by the second, and...

And…

Your pussy was clenching around him.

This was getting you off.

Told you, Meg said. She’s a freak. We’re not that different.

And as the rest of your climax seized you, Sam felt his own take hold.

He pulled out and began pumping his throbbing cock with the hand he’d just used to strangle you.

A dizzying pleasure overcame him.

Whisky in his veins.

Stars again behind his eyes.

And it didn’t take long before he was groaning in ecstasy, shooting his silky seed across your chest and face.

Through Sam’s now hazel eyes, Meg forced him to look down at you. At what he’d done. At your unconscious shell of a body he’d defiled with his pathetic lack of self-control.

A pornographic painting.

A disturbing display of his descent into depravity.

And then Meg did the cruellest thing she could have possibly done in that moment.

She left.

Left him all alone to deal with the aftermath of this mess. The emotional and physical.

Guilt swallowed Sam whole. Not only for what he’d done, but for how good it had felt to lose control, to sate the desires that that taken root deep inside his rotten, corrupted soul.

The last thing Sam heard before she abandoned his aching body–as he closed his internal eyes and admitted defeat–was Meg’s voice, crisp, clear and gloating.

I’ve ruined her for you now, haven’t I, puppet?

And as much as Sam didn’t want to admit it, maybe she had. Because he now couldn’t imagine having you any other way. 

[floweredsturn]

Make it to the morning

-Smut, kissing, swearing/Nicknames(whore, baby, ma), rough sex, panhandling, hair pulling kink

-Word count: 619

“Fuck chris!” She said as he threw her onto the bed, “What the hell” she said laughing as he claimed over her tracing his long fingers over her lower torso. “Need you s’bad” he said tracing small circles on her hip just above where she needed those fingers most.

“Please,” she whined as he practically ripped her shorts off in a swift motion. “Fuck you little whore, no panties” he said sliding his fingers through her sopping wet folds. “Ugh please chris no teasing,” she cried bucking her hips as his slender fingers found her throbbing clit.

“Listen you little slut, imma do what the fuck i want, now take it like the little bitch you are” he spat, his fingers plunging deep into her begging pussy.

“Oh my gosh, chris, fuck!” she moaned her head falling back into the pillow as she bit her lip to silence her cries of joy. “Let me hear ya baby!” he said tracing his fingers down her neck before grabbing it as she moaned.

“Shit” She moaned as he applied force making her vision fall blurry, his fingers were still continuing the passionate movement inside of her soaked heat.

“Fuck need to be inside you s’bad ma” he said pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. “taste so sweet baby” he said coming down to kiss her rosy lips. “Need you so bad chris” she whined as he unbuttoned his jeans, “i know baby i know”

he said soothingly as he lined his swollen red tip to her puffy entrance. “Fuck your so tight ma” he said as he slid in with ease. “Holy shit, s’big!” she moaned as his thrusted his hips with every thrust going faster and faster until eventually his pistoling pace sent her into the mattress, she was a cock drunk mess.

“Oh my god, so close!” she moaned her tits bouncing with every rough thrust he delivered into her overwhelmed pussy. “Yeah that’s right baby, come all over my fucking dick” he said burying his face into the side of her neck, his pace magically getting faster, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

The orgasm tore through her, her legs shaking, her nails dug into the back of his arms as she used him for stability.

“Fuck chris t’much” she whined the overstimulated pleas doing nothing to stop his slamming hips, his orgasm far from close as she fell into a post orgasmic bliss, her mind going numb. the only registered thoughts being those of his hips snapping and the feeling of his thick cock hitting her cervix.

“Shit shit shit” she moaned, cumming directly onto his length the mess dripping down her thigh. “Fuck yeah baby, your perfect, fuck, so fuckin perfect ma” he said looking down at her ruined makeup her mascara running down her cheeks, her now matted hair, her lip gloss now non existent. She was so perfect, but yet so messy.

And something about that made chris want to fuck her even faster. He rammed himself into her making her scream, her nails pulling at the soft brown strands on his sweat slick forehead.

“Holy hell” he whined putting his head into her neck again. “Shit ma, keep doin that” He whined his orgasm approaching. His thrusts grew sloppy. Her moans only grew. The feeling of the third of many orgasms to come, blowing through her mind like a tumble weed.

“Fuck, oh my shit” He moaned his head falling in between the sweaty body’s that were now molded together, “You can go another baby?” He said petting her sweat slick forehead.

“C’mon let’s make it to the morning baby” He smirked thrusting his hips into her again.

©floweredsturn You do not have permission to copy ANY of my works !

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[broidobe]

𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱

requested!

☾when a playful argument between nikki sixx and tommy lee over who’s better in bed spirals out of control, you offer to settle it the only way that makes sense—by taking both of them at once☽

☾warnings: smut, threesome (mfm), degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, mild dom/sub dynamics, competition kink, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, size kink, spit play, slight restraint, teasing, aftercare☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚motley crue masterlist

the argument had started out as playful banter, the way it always did when nikki and tommy got a little too deep into their egos. you were perched on the couch between them, sipping on a drink, half-listening while they went back and forth.

"oh, come on, dude. there’s no way she prefers you over me," tommy scoffed, stretching his long legs out as he leaned back. "have you seen these fingers?"

nikki rolled his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette. "please, t-bone. we both know i know how to fuck properly. you just get in there and hope for the best."

you chuckled, swirling the ice in your glass. "you two sound like teenage boys measuring their dicks in the locker room."

"we could measure dicks," tommy joked, waggling his brows. "but i already know i win."

nikki groaned. "fuck off. you wish."

you leaned forward, looking between them, lips curling into a slow smirk. "or… i could be the judge of that."

the room went still.

nikki’s cigarette froze halfway to his lips. tommy blinked, then looked at you like you had just rewritten the laws of physics.

"what?" you teased, leaning in closer. "scared?"

tommy recovered first, grinning like a madman. "shit, babe, don’t threaten me with a good time."

nikki exhaled sharply, grinding his cigarette out in the ashtray. "alright, fuck it. let’s see who’s really the best."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the moment the three of you tumbled into the hotel room, it was chaos.

tommy had you pressed against the door in seconds, lips crashing into yours, all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping your waist like he wanted to leave bruises. nikki was right behind him, fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat.

"gonna see how much you can fucking take," nikki muttered against your skin before biting down, hard enough to make you gasp.

tommy growled. "nah, i’m gonna ruin her first."

your clothes hit the floor in record time. you barely had time to breathe before tommy had you bent over the bed, ass in the air, his big hands kneading the flesh. "fuck, look at this," he muttered, dragging a palm across your skin before landing a sharp slap that made you yelp.

behind you, nikki scoffed. "oh, you think that’s impressive? watch this." he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back as he kissed you deep, groaning into your mouth while tommy’s fingers trailed between your legs.

"she’s already so fucking wet," tommy mused, his breath hot against your spine. "think she likes us fighting over her."

"of course she does," nikki muttered, fingers trailing down your chest, pinching and teasing. "she loves the attention."

you whined, pushing back against them. "less talking. more fucking."

tommy chuckled darkly. "demanding, huh? gotta teach you some patience, baby."

the two of them worked in perfect sync, overwhelming you, pushing and pulling your body between them. nikki’s grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your breath hitch while tommy’s fingers moved with devastating precision, teasing you open until your thighs trembled.

"you gonna take both of us, baby?" tommy taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. "think you can handle it?"

you whimpered, nodding frantically. "y-yeah."

nikki smirked, fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "that’s my fucking girl."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

by the time they were done with you, you were a wreck.

tommy was sprawled out beside you, chest heaving, a satisfied grin on his face. nikki had collapsed on the other side, fingers idly tracing shapes against your thigh. you were limp between them, body still trembling from the overstimulation, every nerve fried.

"so?" tommy finally asked, his voice hoarse. "who won?"

you let out a breathless laugh, rolling onto your side, meeting both their gazes with a lazy smirk. "mm. might have to go for another round to be sure."

nikki groaned. "jesus fucking christ, you’re insatiable."

tommy grinned. "i love this chick."

you closed your eyes, feeling their warmth on either side of you. fuck, you were sore. but goddamn, it was worth it.

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 17

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 4,534

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, bondage, emotional manipulation, angsty aftercare, implied subspace/subdrop, ptsd flashback, noncon touching (erwin is a creep!)

Morning must have come.

Tears caked your waterline, gluing your lids together. Wincing, you tried to adjust to the dark that still enveloped you. Your head sluggishly tilted towards where light streamed from the line at the bottom of the door.

Muffled words can be heard by the entrance, but you couldn’t make out what was said. From the volume and cadence alone, you could tell Levi must be not pleased. Stomps reverberated overhead until there was a distinct slam of the front door.

Footsteps walked back with the same hurried pace. More light poured out from the entry as it was opened with great force. You flinched back at him flicking the light on. Despite Levi’s lithe frame, his steps pounded against the stairs. You were too exhausted to even work up any fear. You barely slept the rest of the night, plagued with nightmares and the stinging pain of your ass.

At the bottom of the stairs, he rounded the corner. Levi stopped in what you could assume was shock. Him staring at you only brought tears back to your eyes. Fear tried to wiggle back into your brain that he would continue where Erwin’s left off, but you couldn’t muster up the energy.

“What did you do?” His words bit, but his eyebrows tented in pity.

Curling your fingers into your palms, sobs racked through your weak body while you furled in on yourself as much as you could with the restraints. Like he would a wounded animal, he slowly stepped closer. Tracing the bite mark left on your arm, he undid the cuff. You didn’t move as he leaned over your body to undo the other side.

Walking to your bound ankles, Levi winced, “Fuck.”

Oh, so it was that bad.

Bending down, he didn’t touch your wounds just yet. The belts around your legs loosened. You didn’t even notice your feet had gone numb from the lack of circulation. Free of your shackles, you still didn’t move.

Levi traced a finger across your ass, you whined and forced yourself further into the bench. Taking the hint, he moved away. He came to the side and looked down upon your sniveling form.

“Do you think you can stand on your own?”

You shook your head.

Levi’s eyes shifted to the side in thought, “We need to clean those marks.”

He didn’t want an answer. Taking your wrist, he lifted your upper body of the bench. Puppeteering you, he swung your arm around his shoulders. His arm snaked around your waist, he stepped backwards so you could follow. Your pants and underwear that hung around your knees, collapsed to the floor. Levi bent down to picked them up. Curling his arm around your knees, he completely lifted you off the floor.

A yelp escaped as the side of your ass brushed against his stomach. Levi remained silent as he carried you with surprising ease. Sometimes you forget just how strong he is. His unwavering strength does not soothe you. And yet, you craved comfort. Even if it meant in the belly of the beast, at least you are warm.

Resting your head against him, Levi glanced down at you. He didn’t say anything as he made it out of basement and took you both to the bathroom. Kicking the door open, he let you down.

Flinging your clothes in the hamper, he pointed, “Lean against the counter.”

Nodding, you rested on your elbows, too weak to stand up straight. Satisfied, Levi turned to the tub and flicked the shower on. Running his hand under the water, he deemed it warm enough.

“I’m getting you new clothes. Try to get in yourself. I will be right back.”

Levi lingered when you didn’t reply, but ultimately, decided to leave you be.

Releasing a breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess. Your eyes were swollen and tear tracks dug deep in your cheeks. You looked so broken. Unable to conjure any anger or self-pity, you dragged yourself towards the steaming shower.

Unsteady on your feet, your knees knocked as you wobbled towards it. You could still barely feel your legs as you stumbled. Your ankle buckled. Ready to crash on the floor, an arm slung across your waist and caught you. Clenching your eyes, you balled your fists in embarrassment.

“Let’s make this quick.”

Lip wobbling, your head bobbed in agreement.

Cajoling you into the shower, he made sure you were stable to strip himself of his clothes. Stepping into the stream with you, he coaxed you to lean against him for support. Resting your head on his shoulder, you both pretend what wet his skin was the water.

Clinically, he started to scrub your body, not lingering. He strayed from your bum. Though he spun you so your back faced the steam. Clutching further onto his biceps, you whimpered as the water hit your parted skin. You watched as the water turned pink.

“Hold onto my shoulders.”

Your hands drifted to his sturdy muscle. Levi kneeled down to wash your legs. His fingers danced around the bruising skin of your ankles. He kept his gaze on the wounds while he clicked his tongue. Shifting his weight, he stood back up.

“Can you stand now?”

“I th-think so,” You mumbled. Your hands dropped to your sides while you refused to look him in the eye.

Guiding you to the side, Levi hastily washed himself. Deeming it good enough, he rinsed himself and turned the water off. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself.

The curtain rings screeched against the pole. Steam billowed further into the room, fogging up the mirror. Despite asking if you could handle yourself, Levi helped you out of the shower.

He wrapped a towel around his waist. Going back to you, he used one towel to wrap your hair up. Taking the other, he patted you dry. Levi’s eyes bounced to your face over and over. You knew he was trying to make eye contact, but you just couldn’t.

Throwing the towel into the hamper, he reached for clothes that only consisted of an oversized sleep shirt.

“I think it’s best it keep any fabric off the wounds for now.”

He explained even when you didn’t ask. Not responding again, Levi let out a frustrated sigh that had you flinching back.

“Arms up.” Like a doll, you obeyed and let him slip the shirt through your limbs and head.

He dressed himself just as fast as he washed himself. Crouching in front of the sink cabinet, he reached in the back and found a first aid kit you never noticed. Your eyes glanced to the feminine products and that original terror gripped your heart.

Helplessness squeezed you so tight your breathing stuttered.

Levi’s face pinched at your escalating panic. Slowly lifting off his heels, he stood before you. “I need to clean the cuts, that’s it.”

You shook your head while you stepped backwards. You didn’t first aid, you needed out. You have to leave. This was all his fault.

“Stop being a brat,” Levi barked and grappled onto your wrist.

Pulling you to him, he lifted you up and slung you over his shoulder. Not putting up a fight, you let yourself dangle as his arm coiled above your knees. You couldn’t help but notice how… touchy he was being.

The hardwood floor bobbled as Levi walked towards what you could assume was the living room. Heading to the couch, he bent down so you could slip off his shoulder to sit on your knees, not putting pressure on your bottom.

Placing the first aid kit on the other side of him, Levi sat next to you. Grabbing your upper arm, he splayed you across his lap. Your shoulder blades tensed at the familiar position. Your torso sat on his thighs, not quite perched up as he did before.

Levi rubbed your back to pacify you. Burying your face in the cushions, you tried to relax. Exhaling, your muscle went slack.

“Good girl,” He spoke so softly.

Repositioning you so your ass was perked up and your breasts laid on the couch, he lifted the shirt to look at your ass. Taking the first aid by your head, it uncapped with a pop.

Disinfectant permeated through the air. Your nose wrinkled. Whimpering, you tried to flinch back as the cold stung.

“You can take it.”

That didn’t reassure you at all. He swiped at the splits in your delicate flesh, digging into the bruising that was more than skin deep. He wiped the wounds a few more times. Happy with the disinfectant, he reached for the salve.

Cracking it open, he poured it directed on the flesh. You squirmed at the cold, thick liquid caking the bruises. Levi placed his hand on your back and lightly held you down. His other hand started to rub the medicine in. Heat crept up on your face as he pet your ass. It jiggled as he worked it in. This all felt a little too intimate for your liking.

Though, you let him care for you. Sagging further into him, you let your mind drift off into that blurry haze you were in last night. But, this time, it felt more safe.

Levi’s warmth left you as he shut the first aid kit and cleaned up his mess. Slipping his arm under you, he pushed you up so you were kneeling beside him. He gathered the used wipes and he went to lift himself up, but your grabbed onto his pants and clutch the fabric.

He lifts a brow at you.

You couldn’t speak and only shuffled closer. Levi shut his eyes with a big sigh. Curling his arm around your waist, he placed you on his lap, straddling his hips. Spreading his legs, he relieved any pressure on your ass. This had you slide further down until your crotches slotted together.

Beckoning you closer, you rested your head against his shoulder and nuzzled into the side of his neck. Surprisingly, Levi let you. He cradled you close as his hand stroked up and down your back. Tears bubbled up and wet the hem of his shirt.

“Are you going to tell me what you did or not?”

You only clutched onto him further. If he knew why Erwin punished you, this small piece of kindness would be ripped from your grasp. Here, you almost felt like a human again.

“Either way, it’s going to have to be dealt with when Erwin comes back so you might as well fess up.”

The mention of the larger man had you tense. You knew he would come home eventually, but you were terrified. He beat you until you bled and left you in the dark to rot. While Levi was the reason you needed out, desperately—he was your only lifeline.

That scary place fizzled in your brain, beckoning you to sink until you couldn’t breathe. Unknowingly, you started to hyperventilate again.

“Okay, okay,” Levi muttered, and started to pet your hair. “We will cross that bridge once we get there I guess.”

Trembling with curling fingers deep in the matter of his skirt, you tried to find solace in him. You can pretend jumping from the claws of lion into the open, hungry mouth of the wolf is safer. His teeth can suffice as an embrace.

Levi let you cling onto him for a lot longer than you thought before the itchy need to tidy set his priorities. You laid on your stomach on the couch, looking longingly out the window. The sound of tires crunching against gravel had you tense up after staring off.

From behind you, Levi put down whatever he was doing and made his way into the living room. You propped yourself up as you heard the front door opening and closing with unneeded force. Kneeling on the couch, you watched as Erwin passed into the threshold.

His eyes bounced to you and then at Levi who came closer with his arms crossed, combative.

“What the fuck happened?”

Erwin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What do you mean, Levi?”

“Why the fuck did I find her bound, in the dark and blood caked on her ass and thighs, Erwin?” Levi’s voice rose.

You flinched back, scared and confused. Why did he seem upset for your well being? Levi had arguably done worse, but he looked almost offended by Erwin’s behavior.

Erwin crossed further into the living room, not looking at you. That icky feeling resurfaced of when Erwin didn’t acknowledged you and left you in that damn room.

He flippantly waves his hand, “Doesn’t matter. She will be sleeping with us from now on.”

Before Erwin could go anywhere, Levi gripped his upper arm like he would you. “You’re going to explain to me. Now.”

Erwin raised a brow at Levi’s hand, “Can I at least put my stuff down first?”

“Go right ahead,” Levi snarked and dropped his hold.

The large man went down the hall to his office and Levi stood there, fuming. At this point, neither of them were paying attention to you. You couldn’t help feeling like a little kid again. You sat on the couch, an observer.

Coming back, Levi was instantly on top of him. “What happened last night?”

Erwin crossed his arms, “It’s none of your concern. I handled it.”

“Handled it? She was inconsolable!”

You winced as he talked about you like you weren’t there.

Erwin stepped closer and loomed over Levi, “Why do you care?” There was an almost jealous twinge to his tone.

Levi wasn’t intimated by him and tilted his chin up to give the man a dead stare, “I care because I had to clean up your mess.”

Uncomfortable, you started to fiddle with your fingers. Erwin barked something that made you flinch, but your mind started to wonder. You seemed to shrink as the voices that clashed were now masculine and feminine. One of them more shrill than the other.

At this point, none of you could remember what started the fight, but it started to escalate. The voices only pitched in volume. Vaguely, you could make out your mother screaming, look at what you did to her!, followed by the crash of a glass she threw.

Your arms instinctively covered your head as the cup shattered and rained down in pretty glittering shards. You father advanced on her, yelling back, you could have hit her!

Clutching onto your head, you tugged on your hair. You willed the memory away. You were here, not there. Though your current situation wasn’t any better, at least you were no longer a cowering child.

Gritting your teeth, you shake off the grips of childhood remnants. Erwin and Levi were in the kitchen, continuing their argument. At this point, you stopped caring what they were saying. They were so engrossed in their own spat, you were nothing more than a forethought.

You glanced at doorway of the mudroom. You knew you couldn’t leave until you could saw the collar off, but you had to test something.

Placing your hands on the back of the couch, you stepped backwards with shaky legs. Peeling yourself from the cushions, not once did they leave your line of sight. Prowling like an animal sizing up a bigger predator, you side stepped across the floor.

“And whose fault is that?” Levi’s voice rung out as they went to the table.

You were completely out of their sights. Still toeing backwards, your hands gripped the frame of the mudroom. Stepping down, you glanced down to make sure not to trip on the welcome mat.

Your back hit the door. You waited.

There was no alarm, no shock to your collar. Reaching behind, your hand gripped the doorknob and slowly twisted it back and forth. No alarm, no shock.

A flimsy smile graced your lips.

Determined once more, you softly walked back in the living room, their voices starting to calm down. Like you were rewound, you resumed your position on the couch, watching.

Levi came back from where he and Erwin were. He seemed significantly more relaxed. Rounding the couch, he didn’t say anything while he lifted you up and carried you. You were too stunned to argue.

Erwin sat at the head of table, food laid out. Where you really that out of it you didn’t even notice dinner was made?

Gently, Levi sat you at the table. You flinched at the hardwood digging into your bruises. Erwin had the audacity to grimace at your pain.

Levi sits next to you and you side eye him. What the fuck is going on?

Erwin clears his throat, “I’m not going to apologize for punishing you.”

Your lip curled as you stared down your food. An ugly stew of emotions broiled in your gut.

“Erwin,” Levi started to scold. What the actual fuck.

Erwin raised his hand to stop Levi, “Let me continue. I won’t apologize for punishing you, but I can see that I went too far. I let my emotions get the better of me. That won’t happen again, I promise.”

Bitterness dripped from your tongue, “You say that now.”

Sadness swarmed Erwin as he reached for your hand, but you flinched back. A whimper fell out as you put more pressure on a particular cut.

“I just want us to be a happy family.”

You bristled. How dare he. You scoffed while you sarcastically asked, “If you're daddy does that make Levi mommy?” You spat out the word daddy.

A rough hand gripped your jaw and forced you to look at Levi. Ire bubbled up in his smokey irises, “Listen here, you little- don’t encourage her.”

Levi peered over you to Erwin who was stifling his laugh. He dropped his focus back on you and you met his gaze.

You continued on, “And what does that make me? The child or the dog?”

Levi gave you a look that screamed to shut up, but you were content with yourself. All humor left Erwin, his gaze burned into you. Dropping his hold, Levi let you meet Erwin head on.

“You are neither,” Erwin said after a long moment of silence. “You are ours, that’s what you are.”

So a possession. You would never been seen as an equal. You knew this, but him saying it out loud just cemented it. Staring down at your hands, you picked at your nails.

He could see you visibly wilt and tried to do some damage control, “Let’s get you to bed. It’s been a long day, for all of us.”

“I’ll meet you up there,” Levi said, reaching for your uneaten plate.

Erwin walked over to you. He grabbed your arms and turned you so he could lift you into his embrace. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he put his arm under your bum. You whined at the bruising being touched.

Cradling the back of your neck, he massaged the muscles while shushing you. Foreboding churned your stomach. You slightly bounced with each step Erwin took. Going past his office, he turned left instead of taking you to your room.

You completely forgot you were going to sleep with them now. Turning into the hallway you hadn’t went down yet, anxiety hit you as you never been upstairs. Not even when you were on better terms with them. You weren’t allowed and you didn’t want to cross the boundary. It felt too intimate and it still does.

At the end of the hall, Erwin pivoted again and started to ascend the stairs. At the top, he directed you both to the right, down a short hallway. He opened the door and you stared down the other hall before Erwin closed off your view.

When walking in, to the left was an walking in closet, the door left ajar. From the glance you saw suits all in Erwin’s size. This must be his room. Crossing further in to the right was a king sized bed against the wall, a side table on both sides. You were confused why he needed such a big bed and two tables.

Erwin placed you on the mattress. The sheets and bedding were a soft black. You winced when your wounds dragged against the fabric. Erwin looked apologetic.

“I will be back.”

He left to go to the door facing the right side of the bed. Inside was a large bathroom. You couldn’t see much from your limited view so you brought your attention to the rest of the room.

It had been in L-shape, the closet making it seem like a standard rectangle. To the left of you was a large window where the sunset streamed inside. Against the wall on the other end of the bed was an extravagant TV stand. One of those fancy ones where you can close the cabinet to hide away the TV. There were also shelves lined to the brim from what you could see were history books.

Erwin emerged from the bathroom, a first aid kit in hand.

“Lay on your stomach for me.”

You were still scared to be alone with him so you obeyed. Turning on your tummy, you tried not to flinch as Erwin’s weight dipped the bed. You laid slightly off center as Erwin walked on his knees and adjusted himself so he straddled your thighs.

Your heart dropped as he sat back. He rested most of his weight on his ankles so you weren’t crushed, but he was in a position that if he wanted he could slot his crotch against your ass if he leaned his full weight on you.

Flicking the kit open, he took the tube of ointment specifically for cuts. He flipped your shirt up and paused to see you weren’t wearing anything underneath and the sheer damage done to your skin.

Your back hunched as you tried to scrunch forward as his fingers traced his damage. Screwing the cap off, he delicately smeared the clear jelly over the various lesions over your ass. Pulling out band-aids, over the broken skin he used his thumbs to adhere them.

Grabbing a different tube, this medicine was more liquidity as he rubbed them against the bruises. His large hands encompassed your ass, stroking the skin until the lotion was soaked in. You hated how vulnerable you were. You hated how this is what you craved since he spanked you. The fear he was sick of you wriggled in, that you were going to be like all the other girls before you.

Your body went still when he bent over to kiss your exposed nape. His hands dragged upwards to grip your waist. He tickled the flesh his palms swallowed up. Stuttering quaked your chest. You stared at the open bathroom door, terrified.

“I shouldn’t have been so mean. It’s okay, we will keep this between us, right?”

You trembled, “You didn’t tell Levi why?”

Erwin smiled into your neck, “Can you imagine what he would have done if I did?”

You whimpered.

He shushed you as he explored more of your skin. “It will be our little secret. Don’t give me a reason to tell him.”

“Okay,” You nodded your head.

Erwin squeezed your ribs, “What was that?”

“Yes! Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

He got up from you and grabbed the wrappers of the band-aids. They crinkled in his grasp. Putting away the other tubes, he closed the kit and left the bed.

Turning your head into the comforter, your breathing picked up in panic. Tears burned your waterline. Forcing your hands to your chest, you clutched your chest as you tried your best to suck in oxygen.

“What the fuck is up with her?” Levi’s voice cut through your spiraling.

Erwin entered the room with a shrug. “Must still be coming down from last night.”

Levi gave him a skeptical glower. He went over to you as Erwin went into the closet to grab pajamas. Keeping an eye on Erwin as he went to the bathroom, he helped you up from your laying position.

“Spit it out.”

You only shook your head. There was nothing he could do. There’s nothing he would do. Levi was just as bad Erwin.

Levi leaned down so you were eye level and squinted at you. Grabbing your cheeks, he didn’t let you break out of his trance. Those stormy irises danced across your face, sniffing out any hint. Not finding what he wanted, he released you with a push.

You were left alone on the giant bed as Levi went to the closet as well. Twisting your lip in confusion, Levi came out in his own set of pajamas, his dirty clothes in one hand, the other held a leash.

He passed by you to throw his clothes into the hamper in the bathroom. Coming back, leash in hand, he placed a knee on the bed. Shuffling closer, he kneeled in front of you as you curled in on yourself by the headboard.

Reaching behind you, he threaded the leash through one of the pillars of the headboard. Looping it through the handle, he pulled it until it was taut. Hooking his fingers through your collar, he tugged you up to present your neck.

He clipped the clasp through the loop of the collar. Bringing you closer, he breathed, “Don’t make me have to reinforce this as well. Don’t try to leave the bed either because I will know.”

“Okay,” You hiccuped.

“Good.”

Coaxing the blanket out from under you, Levi sat to the right of you. He brought it up to cover you both. You blinked in confusion. What?

Erwin came out of the bathroom as Levi bent over to grab a book on the bedside table. He also grabbed a part of readers. Levi needed glasses, too?

“All situated?”

Cracking open the book, Levi replied, “You can say that.”

Erwin chuckled as he went to the other side of the bed. You were squished in the middle of the two. Well, squished was an exaggeration as there was enough room to give you a few inches of space. Levi’s side more than Erwin’s since he was a very broad man.

They slept in the same bed?

You tried not to let your confusion show. What exactly was their relationship? You were baffled at the information laid out in front of you.

“You should lay down,” Erwin said.

Looking at him, you saw that his hair was down and covering his forehead. It made him seem younger.

Erwin took no offense to your non-response and guided you to rest your head on the pillow rather than your scrunched up position. The leash was lax enough to not tug on the collar, but its presence was unforgettable.

Reaching for his phone, Erwin scrolled through work emails, propped up against the pillows like Levi. His free hand discretely went under the blanket and rested on your tummy, his thumb stroking over the shirt.

You closed your eyes, and tried to fight the urge to vomit and impending doom of what Erwin’s lingering touches meant.

[ihavethedreamies]

Desert Dogs | Mingyu [NSFW]

Kim Mingyu - Seventeen

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronounces Used, Pet Names (Puppy), Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Degradation, BDSM elements, Breeding Kink (Kinda), Swearing, Spit, Breathplay, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-fucking, Rough, Spanking, Cockbulge (oops), Hard Dom! Mingyu, Unprotected Sex (Don't), Mingyu calls the reader some not nice things but it's a kink so she's okay with it

Author's Note: The plot of this didn't go exactly as I originally planned, but no one's here for plot anyway... This also doesn't have a ton of sci-fi elements, not like the others, but once again, not here for substance, just smut

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

“Ah!? Nonononono-“ You shriek when your rover lets out a loud clunk, followed by several more clangs, a rattle, then it starts to slow. You startle when the tire then blows, the entire back right of the vehicle nearly collapsing and you fall out of your seat, landing against the passenger door with an ‘oof’. You wait until the rover completely stops and even longer for it to stop making noise. When you realize the small creaks will continue, you manage to haul yourself up, reaching for your bag that got snagged on the pedal under the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” You fall back against the glass with a sharp hiss when the rover suddenly tips on its side, a puff of black smoke releasing from the front of the rover. You lay on the door of your rover, regretting your life decisions, wondering why the hell you thought it would be okay to go through an area that clearly had sand worms. Not only did it spit hot acid at the hull of your rover, the acid soaked into the sand had eaten through the thick rubber of the tires. The inside was getting hot fast, because obviously the air conditioning was off if the whole rover was. With a grunt, you get up and crawl up to the back of your rover to get your duffle bag and you throw the back door open, tossing your bags out, then crawl out and land on the sand with a grunt. You stand looking up at the sky for a good two or three minutes…it’s cloudy. Before you can even sigh at your bad luck, the sky roars with thunder and a downpour starts, the hot sky-water soaking through your thin clothes fast.

“You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!” You shout at the sky, and it replies with another loud crack of thunder right as lightning streaks across the sky. Looking around, you’re in the middle of nowhere, miles from even the nearest oasis, let alone a town. You decide it’s better to walk in the rain in the desert than when it was dry and sunny, but you also know the sand could quickly get dangerous, so you have to get to the road fast to avoid any quicksand. Hauling your bag up onto your back, the rain soaking into the burlap makes it even heavier as it soaks everything inside. Because of course, why would a bag meant for desert travel be waterproof? You manage to get back to the road without sinking down into the sandy pits of hell and you debate on whether you should head back to the town you were last in, or go the other direction and just hope you find somewhere. You would use your holo-tracker, but you had broken it a few days prior…Well you didn’t break it, you were savagely attacked by a sand mouse who wanted to steal your lunch and when it jumped at you again, you yeeted the device at it to scare it away and it smashed right into a rock.

You walk for nearly an hour before you see any signs of civilization and it’s only a sign telling you it was going to be another good 40 minutes before you got to anything. You and you’re things are soaked, and it doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon, but then - of course - it wouldn’t for another good three months… Adjusting your bag once again, you continue down the road, getting more and more tired. When you finally see something in the distance, you aren’t for sure what it is, maybe another rover? An oasis? No, it’s in the middle of road… You stop dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing, trying to make it out, not sure if your vision was blurry from exhaustion or the water dripping off your eyelashes. Before you can figure it out, thunder strikes again, and you see a flash of light before you black out.

~

When you wake up, you can still hear the rain, but it’s splattering onto a thatched roof as well as the sand. Grunting, you sit up, feeling very sore, most likely from your rover tipping over in protest of you trying to drive it. You were lying on a wicker cot, and you look around, trying to figure out where you were. You see an oasis out the archway entrance of the little hut you’re in, but there’s none of the tell-tale markers of an oasis outpost. Standing with a groan, you turn to look around, seeing you’re in a sunroom of sorts, another doorway covered with a curtain leading further in. Someone obviously found you, and you hope it’s a really hot guy rather than some sweet old lady-

“Oh, you’re awake.” Your rescuer had pulled the curtain back to stand in the doorway. Hot guy. Very hot guy. Hottest guy you’ve ever seen-

“U-uh…yeah.” You can’t help but gape at him. He was almost as tall as the doorway and built in the best possible way. His face is devastatingly handsome, but his slightly concerned face reminds you more of a puppy than anything.

“You’re lucky I came when I did, you just flopped down onto the road.” He comes over to you, looking over you to see if there was anything visibly wrong.

“Um…h-how long was I out?”

“About 32 hours.”

“WHAT?!” He smiles softly, trying to be reassuring.

“Well, I would imagine anyone who gets that close to getting struck by lightning would be out for a while.”

“I-I…I got struck by lightning?”

“No! No, you just got really, really close… I’m Mingyu.” He scrambles to pull the pendant on his necklace up out of his black tank top, showing an upside-down triangle that’s vaguely familiar.

“I’m a Ranger, I-I promise I don’t have any weird motives.” You honestly wouldn’t care if he did, because you’re starting to get some unsavory motives…

“Oh, uh, (Y/N). I’m a scavenger.” You didn’t know a lot about the Rangers past that they’re do-gooders and vigilantes who are known for helping those in need. It actually did make you feel better.

“What company?”

“I’m technically a freelancer; I work for the Assembly.”

“How did you get out in the middle of the desert like that?”

“My rover…fell apart.”

“Sand worms?”

“Yeah…” You sigh, realizing not only were you without your rover, but it was also your transportation for work. You do have insurance, but you doubt it could get you a whole new one, and paying the difference would clean out your savings.

“Where are you from?”

“Morgran Town.”

“I’m going past there when I leave in a few days, I can drop you off?”

“Really? I…You don’t mind me staying here till you can?”

“Not at all, I can’t leave anyway. Neither of us can.”

“Huh?”

“Apparently, it’s some kind of freak storm that only comes every 70 years or so. Planet-wide and as the rain keeps going, the sand gets dangerous, and it heats back up causing horrible lightning.”

“Great.”

“Well, come on in and eat, you must be hungry.” He smiles and you wonder how someone so hot can be so cute. You follow behind him, feeling absolutely tiny and when you get further into his hut, you realize it’s much bigger than you first thought. And it’s pretty homey. You sit down at the dining table in the room you first enter and your stomach growls as you catch the scent of what he made. You aren’t 100% sure what it is, some kind of rice dish with meat, egg and veggies, but at that point you’d eat just about anything. He huffs a small laugh as he watches you start to eat, clearly famished, and he sits down across from you to eat in a much more civilized manner.

“So why do you live out here by yourself?” You ask him around your food, not thinking he’ll mind your lack of manners. You know them, but using them is a different story.

“Technically I don’t. This is one of the several places us Rangers have spread out through the desert for any of us to use while we travel. We really only have on permanent base, but Hoshi has his own place. Jeonghan won’t let him keep his tiger inside.

“He has a tiger? You know what, I don’t wanna know. How may rangers are there?”

“Here on S.V.T there’s thirteen.”

“So what do you do?”

“I’m the mechanic, I fix things, and I also work with my partner to make machines and mechs and stuff.”

“Why aren’t you with your partner?”

“He’s on some bounty and he told me I’d just get in the way…” Mingyu pouts slightly and you can’t help but melt further, he really is so freaking cute despite being massive. A big ole’ puppy dog.

“I’m not sure I can pay you back…I need all the money I have to get a new rover.”

“I don’t need any money; it’s part of my duty to help.”

“Are you sure?” You low-key, high-key had hoped it would be the stereotypical erotica theme of ‘then pay with your body’ but no, he just had to be genuinely sweet.

~

Because he was so kind in cooking and letting you stay, you insist on doing the dishes and you would offer to clean the hut as well, but it was already immaculate. The sun is starting to set, and he lights some lanterns when, suddenly, the storm gets even worse, the thunder and lightning intensifying.

“We might have to go downstairs…” He mutters.

“Couldn’t that flood?”

“Normally, but it’s more of a bunker-“ A bright flash of lightning closely followed by a sharp crack of thunder cuts him off and the wind speeds up, whistling through the hut.

“Let’s go down.”

“Yeah, yes, yes please.” You grab your bags and follow him into the back hall, and he lifts a wooden panel from the floor and presses his hand against a reader of the sealed door and it hisses open, a metal staircase leading down. You follow him down and the automatic lights turn on as the door seals shut behind you and he leads you further in. The low ceiling of the tunnel forces him to lean forward slightly but you have no trouble, and once you get through another sealed door, the metal-walled bunker opens up into a very nice area. It resembles a studio-style apartment with only the bathroom being separate, and there is even a kitchen.

“We sometimes use this area to house people that need help, mostly slaves that have gotten away.”

“Ah…” You look around, seeing there is only one bed…and not even a couch.

“Um… I can sleep in the armchair.” You offer and he smiles, shaking his head.

“No need.” He goes over to the bed and taps a button with his foot, the bottom drawer sliding out with another mattress.

“Oh. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Mingyu~”

“You’re welcome.”

~

While the storm is muffled in the bunker, as it gets worse, you can start to hear it. You’re awoken when a loud clatter triggers some kind of alarm. He startles awake as well, stumbling out of bed to go to the terminal. You take the chance to ogle him, he must’ve shed his shirt after you had fallen asleep because he was just in his pants. You could only see his back, but you were nearly salivating already. The alarm finally stops, and he turns the lights on dimly, continuing to look over the terminal, then he sighs.

“What?”

“The hut is…gone.”

“Gone? How?”

“It’s…on fire. Kinda. The rain is putting it out, but I think the metal of the bunker attracted the lightning, so the hut go struck.”

“Oh.”

“We might be in here for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s food down here.” He smiles and you sigh in relief.

“Though…the extranet antenna was…on the roof.”

“So…?”

“No entertainment…Not the screen kind.”

“Hm…” You hum, looking around. It’s evident neither of you will get back to sleep, plus it’s only a few hours from morning anyway. You glance back at him, and he’s turned around; your jaw literally drops seeing him.

“Holy fuck…” You say, not quietly at all. He instantly blushes bright red, the tips of his ears the most red.

“S-sorry, I’ll put a shirt on-“

“No! God, no! You’re…fuck-“ You get up off the bed and go over to him. He takes the chance to look over you as well, you’d shed your clothes to sleep as well, just in a breast-band and shorts since all of your other clothes were still in your bag, probably still soaked. You get close enough you can hear him swallow hard, and his blush is starting to seep down over his collar bone. You notice his hand reach out, then he hesitates, then pulls back. You take a step closer, looking up at him. It’s then you notice very thin lines running all over his body, almost imperceptible.

“What are these?” You take the chance to touch him, running your index finger over the line, tracing the pattern over his chest. He lets out a shuddering breath, the muscle under your finger twitching a bit.

“Um…I have cybernetics.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“What for?”

“They…make me stronger… and uh…”

“And what~?” You take another step closer, your single finger tracing becoming all of your fingers.

“Um…build my stamina…”

“So you can…just keep going~?” Your second hand joins and you step even closer, your warm breath on his skin from your proximity making his own hitch.

“I-I guess, yeah…” You take a final step, so your chest presses against his upper stomach, the size difference making your core heat up alone. He can’t help but gawk at just how small you look, and the look on your face-

“C-Can I?” He reaches for you again and you huff with a smirk.

“Please~” Mingyu swallows again and his hand comes up, gently cupping your jaw in his hand, nearly covering the whole half of his face. The softness of the gesture takes you back a bit, and while it’s sweet, you don’t want sweet. You want him to rail you into next week-

You gasp out of soft moan when his hand moves, going down to your neck, his thumb gently pressing against your windpipe and you see the soft, nervous look in his eyes harden into raw heat.

“You think you can handle me?” His voice lowers further, and you swallow hard at the sudden shift in his demeanor. Mingyu acted a bit nervous and shy before, but it’s also obvious he knows how sexy he is, the effect he has…

“You think your tiny cunt can handle my cock?” He presses closer to you, and you gasp, feeling his growing hard-on pressing against your stomach. Even without him being so much bigger, his cock was huge.

“I don’t care if it can’t-“ You’re cut off when he forces your head back with his hand under your chin, the slight pressure on your throat makes your head swim. You open your mouth a bit to get more air in, face going red, heart racing, cunt throbbing. You whimper when he spits down into your mouth and he smirks deviously as you eagerly swallow. You squeak when he shoves you down, your legs buckling till your kneeling, your face right in front of his hard cock straining against his pants. You watch with a dumb gawk on your face as his hands go to the fly of his pants and he shoves both them and his boxers off, his dick slapping against his stomach then bobs against your cheek and your eyes run over him, nearly salivating.

“O-oh…”

“Open.” His order brokers no argument and you eagerly do, tongue slightly out. His smirk grows and he grabs his cock at the base and places the angry head on your tongue. The taste of his skin makes your mouth water more and you whine as you suck the head into your mouth, your jaw slightly protesting. You swirl your tongue over the tip of his dick and your hands go to the floor to keep your balance. His strong fingers weave into your hair, tugging on it and you gag softly when he thrusts, his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly. You barely have the time to suck air in harshly through your nose before his girth is down your throat, your nose pressing to his groin. You moan around his cock, the vibration making him groan.

“Can’t believe I found myself such an eager little slut~” Mingyu chuckles, hips pulling back so you can suck in air then he fucks back down your throat, causing you to gag softly. You swallow over and over to get used to him, the restriction of your air just making your cunt soak faster, gummy walls clenching at the thought of his fat cock splitting you in half-

“You like my cock that much? You’re drooling like a fucking dog.” He huffs, his other hands going to your hair as well and you focus on breathing when you can as he fucks your face, your chin a mess of spit and pre.

“Bet you’d like to be fucked like one too. Like a little bitch needing to get bred.” You can’t help but moan at the thought, just the idea of him filling you with his hot cum sending burning heat down to your core.

“How’d you like if I kept you, huh? My pretty little puppy, collar and all, ready to suck me off and take my cock whenever I want~?” He chuckles darkly and despite not knowing if he was being serious, his debauched statements just fuel the fire in your own body.

“Be a good puppy and take my cum, yeah~? Swallow it all~” He groans, burying his cock into your throat as far as he can and your eyes nearly roll back as he pumps his hot jizz down your gullet, your vision spotting from need air, as well as the orgasm thudding through your needy cunt. You feel tears prick your eyes and down your cheeks at the overwhelming sensations and he pulls back so you can breathe, half his cock still in your mouth as it still spurts out ropes of cum. Mingyu finally pulls his cock out of your mouth, still half hard, messy with your spit and his cum, just like your face. You look up at him with a hazy, fucked out expression and he huffs a slightly condescending laugh. You gasp when he shoves his foot between your legs, pressing up against your cunt through your thin sleeping shorts, able to feel your wet through the fabric.

“You’re a such a slut; did I seriously get you off cumming down your throat?”

“Y-Yes…” You reply hoarsely and he scoffs.

“I bet you liked my cum, yeah?” You nod in reply.

“Then get on the bed, ass in the air, I’ll breed you, little bitch~” He grins as you scramble to do so, legs a little wobbly and climb onto the bed, then shove your face into the pillow, ass in the air. Neither of you care that your messy face is getting all over the pillowcase and you gasp when he kneels behind you, reaching forward and tears your breast band off. When he said that the cybernetics made him stronger, you weren’t expecting him to rip leather. You’re less surprised when your linen shorts that you wear as underwear are also torn off, but what you aren’t expecting is the head of his cock already at your soaking cunt. Your breath leaves you and your body spasms in shock, cunt fluttering as he fucks his cock into you immediately, his girth lighting your gummy walls on fire at the sudden stretch.

“Safe word is ‘cactus’.” He tells you and you nod. He at least lets you get somewhat used to him, the head of his cock pushing at your cervix, the sting burns but you can’t help but love it. After only about 40 seconds, when he doesn’t hear you say the word, he starts to fuck you. The air you had just caught back leaves you again and he leans over you, hands gripping the rungs of the headboard, the top banging against the wall in rhythm with his hips. Skin slaps through the room and he huffs a laugh at the mess you’ve already made on his cock and groin, your wet dripping from your cunt as it struggles to take his cock.

“M-Mingyu-!” You gasp, your next orgasm coming startlingly fast. You immediately fall over the edge, clit burning, when he smacks your ass hard, you can feel the outline of his hand as it swiftly turns red on your skin.

“The fuck you call me?”

“S-Sir, s-sorry-“

“Nah, not that either.” He spanks the other cheek, and your fingers bury into the sheets, mind already starting to fade as all you can focus on is him rearranging your guts.

“M-Master-“

“Good girl~” He purrs, his hips stuttering slightly before he’s ball’s deep inside you, filling you with more of his hot cum. Your eyes nearly cross as the force of him painting your insides white, so much that it spills out of your pussy around where he’s inside you, your own release dripping down both your thighs as well. Your body goes limp, and his still hard cock slides out of you as your hips fall to the bed. You lay flat there for just a few seconds, brain trying to bring you back to reality, body twitching. You somewhat register him lifting your leg up to his hip, turning you partially onto your side before he’s back inside you, the new angle letting the fat head of this dick to pound at your weak spot over and over.

“Fuck, master~!” You squeal, giggling deliriously, blushing even like you’re totally drunk on his cock.

“You like being my sweet little slut, huh? Like when I fuck you like a bitch?”

“Yes~!” You nearly start to babble in protest when his hips halt but he’s just rolling you onto your back, still buried inside you and then slings your knees over his elbows, folding you in half, his hand coming to grip your throat again. He squeezes just right, your head swimming, but able to breathe enough, and he huffs when your cunt tightens further and more of your release spurts out of your cunt and over both of you, his fat cock just barreling through it. The sharp sting of overstimulation crests, making tears spill over your cheeks and he groans at the sight, leaning down and licking up the tears on your face. The sharp burning crests and fades to please again and he groans, his thrusts growing shallow, buried deep and just battering the tip of his cock against your back wall over and over. Mingyu’s hand leaves your throat, and you gasp as full airflow returns to you, then he shoves his thumb into your mouth, holding it open. He smirks as you reach up to grip at his wrist, but make no move to try and move him, nearly hugging his arm.

“Such a good bitch, tongue out, panting for her master. If you had a tail, it’d be wagging, huh, puppy?” You nod with a whine, spit dripping from the corner of your mouth and he presses his thumb down on the back of your tongue. He pulls his hand back, moving your legs from over his elbows so he can instead sling them over his shoulders, your ankles by his ears. He leans back a bit, forcing your lower back to prop up and he shoves a pillow under you. He groans as he continues to fuck a mess of cum out of your cunt, watching as your lower stomach bulges, your tiny body struggling to accommodate him.

Mingyu keeps going for literal hours, fucking orgasm after orgasm from you, your cunt nearly numb, your head blank, the bed an absolute mess. He had only cum two other times, changing position over and over, bending you over the bed, holding you up over him to thrust up into you, up against the wall, even in the air. Right before he shoves his cock back into your abused hole for the nth time, you tap out.

“C-cactus-!” You gasp out and he immediately snaps out of it, pulling back. He gently rolls you over onto your back, his concerned face softening his dominant stupor immediately.

“Oh, oh…puppy, I’m sorry, are you hurting?”

“S-sore…” you heave out and he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I got carried away-“ You shake your head, humming softly.

“You’re okay~ I just…can’t keep going… I don’t think I can even walk…” He huffs a soft laugh, looking over you at the mess of both of your fluids and the bruises his hands left on your hips.

“You know…”

“Hm?”

“You kept calling be a bitch in heat…but you fucked me like a dog too~” He blinks at you in a bit of shock, then he bursts out into laughter.

“I guess I did~”

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[natsredbra]

i watched heretic, and, like, ughhhhhhh. sister barnes had my heart pulled out my throat and thrown into my face, istg.

why is she so beautiful? why did i like seeing her poor lower lip wobbling? why did my mind fill with thoughts of dacryphilia and seeing sister barnes desperate, on her knees, preferably? w h y.

i just need to fuck the life out of her body, her soul, wtv. need to tug at her undeniably silky hair and bite hard at her shoulder, as my strap goes deeper into her pussy, which in return doesn’t let go of me—clenching on my cock like she needs it.

and don’t start me on blasphemy and religious kink, because my horniness will overpass any limits of “decent” imaginable.

YES FINALLY I THOUGHT EVERYONE FORGOT ABOUT HER

anyway…

she’s the most pathetic little thing ever, and i think that she would only let you do anything if you were in an established relationship

at first you’re sooooo gentle with her but overtime find out about……interesting things together

she’s the subbiest pillow princess bottom ever

at first it starts off with a bit of begging and asking you to spank her ass

then overtime she gets way kinkier and way way more unhinged

asks you for very rough and straight up disrespectful stuff that you have to triple check before you actually do it (she also does it in that sweet innocent voice UGHH corruption kink is going crazy rn)

“Deeper. Harder. Y-yes, yes, slap me, just like that. Yesyesyes pull my hair mmphhh. Please please please!”

dacry with her im not normal

seeing her pretty eyes tear up when it gets too much, you immediately stop and ask her what’s wrong but she just begs you to continue (even faster then before).

also thinking about reminding her what the other missionaries and her elder would think if they saw her being such a slut…….makes her tear up but for some reason her pussy gets wet too

[bigbobvelseb]

all of these are from the same person by the way.

I sometimes regret making this blog.

[mantisgodsdomain]

Any opinions on human domestication guide? I feel like some of the pieces for it might appeal to you with the whole yes kink no sex aspect of them

That's the, uhh, plant people domesticating humans setting, right? We aren't 100% familiar with it but we've seen enough to know that the narrative treatment is solidly... really, really not for us. Dan is more familiar with it than us, but from what we've seen, we're very inclined to just opt out of it - the narrative treatment of the actual domestication process treats it way too much like a good thing for us to be capable of being comfortable with it, and it has a sort of, like, lack of awareness of itself that throws it from "could be cool" solidly into squick territory.

Listen, we love a good bit of domestication and loss of autonomy, but the way that a lot of the narrative we've seen treats it is... awful, honestly, leaves us feeling like we need to get a good drink to get the taste of it out of our mouth, and it's not even something that we can fully verbalize because it's something in the higher framework and the treatment and execution of tropes that is really goddamn hard to explain without a five thousand word essay, and we don't want. To read enough of it to do that.

It feels bad to read. It is the unfortunate combination of "kink that's close enough to what we generally enjoy that it feels like something we should like but makes us want to cringe out of our skin in practice" that has gotten it and derivative works recommended to us and we just get immediately turned off by the narrative treatment. It's not... great. We are going to turn to Dan's opinion for this since we can't get past a few chapters on even derivative works and he has far more tolerance for this stuff.

It would be different if it had more of, the, like, self awareness of other works - the knowing of the author that what is being done is awful, even if the work itself takes place in a universe where that would not be a consideration. The first chapter's treatment of humanity is uncomfortable. The further treatment of humans and their domestication pushes that discomfort further, and it feels like the author thinks this domestication is a good thing - that it's a net gain for humanity to be enslaved. It treats it, narratively, like a utopia that people are resisting for no good reason, and that's...

There's a reason we prefer dark fiction over utopia, you know? The difference between a utopia book and a dystopia book, a lot of the time, is that the person writing the dystopia knows the world they're writing would be miserable to live in, and the person writing the utopia hasn't thought that their ideal world might be a nightmare for someone else. We can take a lot of very dark bullshit, but the moment that you lose that awareness that what's happening here is fucking terrible, you lose our... ability to engage with the work. Because if you, the author, aren't displaying that awareness, we can't keep with it. It's like how you can tell when an author doesn't view women as people, but with that view of... autonomy. The disabled. The way that cutting away any choice of how to live is seen as a mercy - and we know this may seem an extreme view of the subject matter presented, but we have seen these ways of thinking in people before, and a lot of those experiences have majorly affected our life.

We can see how someone would like it, if they had different experiences to us, if their brain worked a different way. Unfortunately, it makes us want to physically chew our arms off, and none of the narrative we've seen escapes that... pervasive, all-consuming thought, in the background, that you don't know yourself as well as someone else with a position of power over you. That if you gave up control, someone could make the decisions for you, and that would be good. That life is better when you have no say over what happens to your own body.

If it's something you like, we aren't going to yuck your yum. KINKTOMATO is a thing for a good reason, and you enjoying something is decidedly not our problem - we probably would legitimately never mention it if not specifically asked. But we quite value our bodily autonomy, and we have lived our life in a position where almost all of our problems have come from the fact that there are a lot of people who believe we don't have the capacity to properly make our own decisions, and we have had to battle that, tooth and claw, for years, and still, arguably, don't have all of our life in hand. It feels awful, it strikes on things we have personal experience with from an angle that feels like the author believes that it was stupid for us to attempt to fight people who had best intentions for us, even when "best intentions" can pave a road to hell worse than anything else you can imagine.

The sympathy in this narrative does not go to those who fight against domestication. In this setting, we are treated like a toddler fighting against what's best for us for wanting the right to choose what we do with our own body, and we cannot separate that underlying view from the story enough to enjoy it.

Also it doesn't have enough interesting spec bio for us to tolerate it sorry

[bitegore]

ngl i think i kind of was a genius for being like 'yeah this character is a scary killyou cannibal scary killer who scary kills you' and then realizing that the way my worldbuilding works out is that there's a nonzero chance that if you leave literally any body parts over they can just come back, depending on what they believe in their heart of hearts can kill them. Of course she'd start eating her kills. She probably tried normal stuff first and then realized it didn't work and she had to try harder if she wanted to actually keep them dead.

[wreckedhoney]

^^ "coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse"

not proshipper not anti but a secret third thing (person who has a career in the media and, through covering legislative politics, has watched "associating with problematic fiction or entertainment is an indicator of moral degeneracy" rapidly become a mainstream GOP position that they are encoding in legislation to target the queer community under the guise of protecting children, thus coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse — the extent and manner to which fiction affects reality is an issue that is immediately relevant to today's US politics, and to summarize my opinions on the matter in fandom terms would be to diminish the ways this debate is affecting america Right The Fuck Now. and i have stopped taking "this person is bad for shipping the wrong anime thing and being horny about it" in any sort of good faith ever since I saw it literally used as part of a GOP smear campaign against a transgender state legislator in an attempt to defend the right from backlash after they used their supermajority in the Montana house to prevent her from speaking on the floor. Anyway I think everyone on this site, especially Americans, could benefit from ceasing to think in proship v anti vocabulary and instead developing coherent political positions on the nature of fiction that do not directly align with current fascist political tactics)