#it goes hard and hits you in the feels and you should definitely watch it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollgxtz · 2 months ago

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His Watchful Eye Pt. 5

Word Count: 11.6k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, kidnapping, syringes, hitting, bloodshed, attempted rape, lots of blood, sylus goes a tad bit crazy, pet names like kitten, sweetie, doll, little mouse, stalking,

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel

AN: I decided to make this chapters theme red since it fits the bloodiness of this chapter. This is on A03 as well! Also YALL I'm so sorry, apparently my taglist hasn't been tagging people correctly. It should be fixed now! I’ll go back and fix it on the other lists as well!! Per usual, heed the warnings and enjoy! Next chapter is definitely going to have lots of smut, I’m already writing it 😌

"Your tears, your pain, your misery," Sylus whispers, his voice dripping with a dark intimacy as his hand moves gently to your face. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a tear that hasn’t yet fallen, his touch both tender and terrifying. "It all belongs to me."

“I am the only one who gets to see you cry”

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6

The darkness had swallowed you whole. When you blink your eyes open, the world is a blur, as though you’re caught between waking and a nightmare. Cold, sharp and biting, is the first thing you feel, seeping into your skin from the damp concrete beneath you. Your nightgown is soaked, sticking to your body, the freezing water from the shower still dripping slowly from the showerhead, an eerie rhythm to the otherwise oppressive silence.

It takes a moment before the memories resurface, and when they do, they crash over you like a wave. The basement. Reese. The other man. The betrayal. Your heart clenches painfully as you recall the way Reese had looked at you when he led you here, his guilt ridden face made you scowl.

How dare he have a conscious when he had led you to your very demise? You had trusted him. Told him about your kidnapping, your escape. He had listened with kind eyes, nodding in all the right places, making you believe he was different—that he was your salvation in a world that had turned cruel. He had seemed so genuine, offering you a place to stay, a promise of safety. But now, that memory feels like poison, a twisted mockery of the trust you had so willingly given him.

How could you have been so naive?

You groan as you try to sit yourself upright, every muscle in your body protesting with sharp pain. The cold has seeped so deeply into your bones that it feels like your limbs are made of lead, heavy and uncooperative. Your fingers dig into the rough concrete as you push against it, your nightgown clinging to your skin, wet and miserable.

Your head spins, the pounding ache a reminder of everything you’ve been through, but you grit your teeth and force yourself to move. Lying there, helpless, isn’t an option. Not anymore.

Each breath is a struggle, shallow and ragged, as you steady yourself against the wall behind you. The dampness of the basement, the steady drip of water in the corner, the faint musty scent of decay—it all feels suffocating, as though the walls are closing in. You blink hard, trying to focus, to ground yourself in the moment, but the betrayal still burns in your mind, cutting deeper than any physical wound.

Reese's face flashes before your eyes again, his soft voice promising safety, and you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh, though it quickly dissolves into a shaky exhale. Safety. What a cruel joke.

You had simply traded one prison for a colder, darker one.

You look around the basement, squinting in the dim light. Your legs ache as you try to move them, pins and needles shooting through your feet as you attempt to stand. Your body feels battered, but the deeper pain—the one rooted in the betrayal—hurts far worse. Reese wasn’t some random passerby, some kind stranger. He knew what he was doing, and worse, he had listened to your story of suffering and seen you as an opportunity to fulfill some promise.

As you lean against the wall, trying to steady your shaky breath, Reese’s words echo in your mind, gnawing at your already fragile sense of reality.

“I promised them a girl.”

The phrase rattles around in your skull, unsettling and cryptic. What did he mean by that? Who was them?

Your stomach turns, the bile rising in your throat as you replay the memory over and over. Reese had said it shakily, his voice trembling, his eyes wide with barely concealed fear. But his words were soaked in something far darker, something that made your skin crawl the moment they left his lips.

Promised them a girl.

The weight of it sinks in deeper, heavier with each passing moment, like a noose tightening around your neck.

Your hands curl into fists, nails digging sharply into your palms as you struggle to suppress the rising wave of nausea and panic. Every breath feels like a battle, the air thick with dread. You want answers—need answers—but more than anything, you need to get out of here. Every second you spend trapped in this basement feels like a countdown ticking away to something far worse than anything your mind can conjure.

Whatever Reese had promised them, whatever twisted deal he’d made, you won’t let it come to pass. You won’t be some pawn in this dark, twisted game he's playing. You refuse to be reduced to a bargaining chip for them, whoever they are. They might have Reese tangled in their web, but they won’t have you.

Your eyes drift toward the dingy mattress settled on a metal frame, barely visible in the dim light. A tattered towel, a folded pair of sweatpants and a white shirt lie haphazardly on top of it. You hesitate for a moment, the sight catching you off guard. Did Reese leave these here for you?

The thought sends a wave of conflicting emotions through you—anger, confusion, even a twisted sense of pity. Despite everything, despite handing you over to whatever fate awaits, had he still tried to offer some small gesture of comfort? Or had this been planned, just part of the sick arrangement, a way to keep you alive long enough for them?

You shake the thought from your mind. It doesn’t matter.

The cold clings to you, a constant, suffocating presence in your wet nightgown. Your teeth are still chattering, your skin icy to the touch. Without thinking too much about it, you rush over to the mattress, snatching the towel and the sweatpants. The rough fabric of the towel is worn, but it's warm enough as you rub it over your chilled skin, drying the water that’s soaked through your night gown.

With shaking hands, you strip off your wet, heavy dress and quickly pull on the dry sweatpants and t shirt. The warmth is immediate, a small, fleeting relief that feels almost like a luxury in this basement. You wish they weren't so loose, but it’s better than nothing.

Your body is still cold, still trembling, but the damp heaviness has lessened. You feel lighter, a little less trapped by the elements, even if the air around you remains heavy with the weight of everything that has yet to happen.

Reese’s face flashes in your mind again, his nervous, guilt-ridden eyes, and you can’t help but wonder—was this his attempt at an apology? His way of making up for the unforgivable?

Abruptly, you hear it – footsteps above, faint but unmistakable. Your entire body tenses as you freeze in place, straining to listen. The whispers that follow are barely audible through the thick ceiling, but you can catch snippets of words, just enough to recognize one of the voices: Reese.

Your heart thuds against your ribcage as you make your way towards the metal hatch at the top of the stairs, every step agonizing from the cold and strain. You push through the pain, desperate for more information.

You press your ear against the frigid metal, the voices growing clearer yet still muffled. Reese's voice is shaky and filled with nervous energy, like when he made that dreadful promise to "them."

"She said she was kidnapped," Reese's voice trembles, sending a wave of chills down your spine.

A cold sweat breaks out across your skin. A lump forms in your throat as you strain to listen, your mind racing. You had trusted him with everything, thinking he would help. The other voice – deep and calculated – interrupts.

"By who?" he demands harshly.

"I don't know," Reese replies, panic evident in his voice. "She didn't give names…I didn't ask…I didn't think…"

"Idiot," the man hisses angrily, cutting off Reese's rambling. There's a moment of silence before heavy footsteps approach closer. Your heart pounds violently in your chest.

You hear something unmistakable—a faint scraping sound. Your blood runs cold as you slowly realize what’s happening.

The metal handle of the hatch begins to turn.

It’s a slow, deliberate movement, the iron grinding against itself with a low, ominous creak that makes your breath catch in your throat. Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening as you stare at the hatch, watching the handle twist further, the tension of the lock giving way with a soft, metallic click.

Panic floods through you as the realization hits like a punch to the gut—they’re about to open the hatch.

The handle continues to turn, and with a surge of panic, you pull away from the hatch. Your body moves before your mind can fully process, instincts kicking in. You scramble down the creaky wooden stairs, your legs protesting with every movement, but you push through the pain.

Each step feels like it takes an eternity, the sound of the hatch above grinding against your nerves. You reach the bottom, your breath ragged, and without a second thought, you make a desperate dive under the bed.

You scramble under the grimy mattress, your heart pounding as you press your body flat against the cold floor. The space beneath the bed is cramped, dark, and thick with dust, but you force yourself to stay still, biting back your panic. Your breathing comes in short, shaky bursts, but you try to control it, barely daring to inhale as you listen to the creak of the metal hatch swinging open.

The footsteps echo louder now, descending the wooden stairs, each step making your pulse race faster. You watch from your hiding place, the dim light casting shadows across the room as the first pair of feet—Reese's—comes into view. His sneakers shuffle nervously against the floor. Right behind him, heavier boots thud down the steps—boots that belong to someone much more imposing, someone far more dangerous.

You peek through the gloom, barely daring to lift your head.

Reese speaks first, his voice shaky. “I-I swear, I don’t know who kidnapped her. She just told me she was running, that she escaped. I didn’t ask for details.” There’s a tremor in his voice, thick with fear.

The other man’s voice is low, cold. “And you didn’t think to get more information? You were too busy playing hero.”

You didn't recognize this voice. He wasn't the one from earlier that had helped Reese bring you down here.

Reese mumbles something incoherent, but you can hear his terror. The other man clearly isn’t buying it. The booted footsteps hit the last step, and the man takes a slow, deliberate step into the basement.

You curl up tighter, heart racing, your body nearly paralyzed with fear as you catch sight of him. He’s taller than Reese, broader, with an intimidating presence that fills the room. His voice cuts through the tension. “Where is she, Reese? You promised us a girl. So, where is she?”

Reese stammers, his anxiety palpable. “She’s—she’s here, I swear, I locked the hatch. She couldn’t have gone anywhere.”

The man lets out a slow exhale, clearly unimpressed. “She better be. Otherwise, you’ll have hell to pay.”

You can feel the weight of the man’s presence shifting, scanning the room, and you shrink further into the darkness, praying that the shadows will keep you hidden. The dread mounts as the sound of their steps grows louder.

Your heart races, every muscle tense as the heavy boots come to a stop right beside the bed. You can feel the air shift, the man's presence looming dangerously above you. His shadow stretches over the mattress, and for a second, you think maybe—just maybe—he'll move on. Maybe he won't look under here.

But then, in one swift motion, he crouches down.

His eyes lock onto yours, blue and calculating, a cruel smile playing at the edges of his lips. Your stomach drops, panic surging through you like wildfire. You try to scramble backward, to escape deeper under the bed, but it's too late. His hand shoots out, iron-tight fingers wrapping around your ankle.

"No more hiding, little mouse," he growls, his voice thick with menace.

You kick and thrash, but he’s far too strong. With a brutal yank, he drags you out from under the bed, your nails scraping uselessly against the concrete floor as you try to find some kind of grip. Fear pulses through you, sharp and overwhelming, as you're pulled out into the open.

"Got her," the man says, his grip on your ankle tightening painfully. He hauls you upright, forcing you to stand even as your legs buckle beneath you.

Reese is standing off to the side, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with guilt and fear. He doesn’t say a word as the man forces you up, his cold fingers digging into your arm now, holding you in place.

The man looks you over, his smile fading as he studies you with dark, unreadable eyes. "This is her?" he says, glancing at Reese, his voice a mixture of disbelief and something far more dangerous.

Reese stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y-yes. I swear. She’s the one."

The man turns back to you, his expression hardening. "Good," he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your arm until pain shoots through your shoulder.

You bit back a cry of pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction. The man's grip tightened further, his fingers digging into your flesh like steel talons. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage as you fought to keep your composure.

"Let. Me. Go." You hissed through clenched teeth, each word dripping with venom.

The man's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Feisty, are we? Hilarious. Won't last long though".

He released your arm abruptly, causing you to stumble. As you regained your footing, you noticed Reese had retreated to a corner, his face a mask of guilt and fear. The betrayal stung, but you pushed the feeling aside. There would be time for that later. Right now, survival was your only priority.

The men turned toward the metal hatch at the top of the stairs, drawn to the sound of heels clacking against the wooden steps. You tensed, every muscle in your body coiling with anticipation as another pair of legs appeared, descending with an air of confidence. A woman stepped into the basement, her dark hair swinging with each precise step, her sharp brown eyes surveying the room with calm, calculated detachment. She was dressed in a crisp, business-casual outfit, perfectly put together, every detail deliberate.

Her heels struck the floor with a final, authoritative click as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her gaze locking onto you immediately. There was no warmth in her eyes, no recognition of you as a person—only cold assessment, as though you were an object, a piece of inventory.

She didn’t speak right away, her expression unreadable as she glanced at the man beside you, then at Reese huddled in the corner. Her presence demanded attention, a silent command of the room that made your skin crawl.

“Is this the girl?” she asked at last, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of impatience.

The man nodded, his smirk never faltering. “She’s the one boss.”

The woman’s eyes swept over you again, lingering on you for a moment longer than before. You felt her gaze like ice, sharp and invasive, as if she could see through you, past your fear, right down to your core.

“She doesn’t look like much,” she remarked, almost casually, though there was a quiet menace in her tone. “But she’ll do hopefully.”

Your heart dropped, dread pooling in your stomach as her words hung in the air. Whatever Reese had gotten you into, it wasn’t just a betrayal—it was something far more dangerous. And now, you were caught in the middle of it.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of a way out, but the walls felt like they were closing in, your options shrinking with every second that passed. You had to do something—anything—before it was too late.

You certainly couldn't fight your way out of here. It was 3v1, and the days of little food and constant stress had weakened you significantly. Your limbs felt like lead, and any attempt to resist would be useless, not against these people—especially with the woman’s calculating gaze locked onto you.

"Wh-what is this?" you stammer, trying to sound calm, but the tremor in your voice betrays you. "What do you plan to do with me?"

The woman turned toward you, her expression cold, detached. She raised an eyebrow, as though mildly amused by your question, but there was no kindness in her eyes—only a chilling indifference.

“Does it really matter?” she replied, her voice smooth but laced with cruelty. She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor with each deliberate step, her presence looming over you. “You’re not in a position to negotiate or ask questions, are you?”

You felt your pulse race, panic swelling in your chest. You tried to stand straighter, to show some semblance of strength, but your body betrayed you, trembling from exhaustion and fear.

The man who had grabbed you before let out a low chuckle. “She’s already scared. Good. Makes things easier.”

Reese, from his corner, shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. The guilt was written all over his face, but he said nothing, didn’t even try to stop what was happening. He had already played his part in this nightmare.

The woman tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. “You’ve been promised to someone very important, and it’s best if you cooperate. Things will be... easier for you.”

Your stomach dropped at the implications of her words. Promised? You were no longer just a person—you were a transaction.

Your mouth went dry as you forced the question past your lips, your voice shaky. "Promised for what?" You had to know. Every terrible possibility ran through your mind, but the uncertainty gnawed at you even more.

The woman paused, a brief flicker of something—pity, maybe?—crossing her face. She sighed softly, like she was indulging a child who didn’t know better. “I guess it couldn’t hurt for you to know,” she said, her tone almost bored. “Won’t make much difference in the end.”

She stepped closer, crouching down so she was eye-level with you. Her gaze softened slightly, but the words that followed made your blood run cold.

“You’ve been promised to a very wealthy man,” she began, her voice calm, detached. “His wife...she’s dying. Organ failure. They’ve tried everything—medications, various treatments—but nothing’s worked.”

Your mind raced, struggling to process the meaning behind her words. Organ failure? The realization hit you like a sledgehammer, a wave of nausea rolling through your stomach as her words continued.

“He’s willing to pay any price for a match,” she explained with chilling indifference, her eyes boring into yours. And if you're a perfect match for her...” She paused, letting the weight of the situation sink in before she added, almost with a shrug, “Your organs will save her life.”

A sickening silence followed, the air thick with your disbelief.

They were going to harvest your organs.

Panic clawed at your throat, and your body felt like it was in freefall. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The cold, brutal truth hung in the air between you and the woman, her pitying gaze cutting you deeper than anything else.

“You should feel honored,” she added, her voice devoid of any real sympathy. “You’ll be giving someone like her a second chance at life.”

Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears. Your survival wasn’t just threatened—it was already decided.

Your body went numb as her words settled over you, the realization of what they planned twisting your stomach into knots. But as the silence stretched on, the woman seemed to catch herself, a slight frown tugging at her lips.

“We don’t know for sure if you’re a match yet,” she admitted, almost thoughtfully. “But you're a woman, so that's already one criteria met. And it’s just a matter of time before we find out the second.”

She reached into the pocket of her crisp jacket and pulled out a syringe and a small vial. The sight of it made your blood run cold. Your heart hammered against your chest, each beat a sharp reminder of how close you were to losing everything.

“I need to take a blood sample,” she said, her tone almost professional now. “Don’t bother resisting. We’ll get what we need, one way or another.”

Your limbs froze, panic surging through your veins. You wanted to run, to scream, but your legs felt like they were locked in place. The walls of the basement seemed to close in tighter around you, and for a moment, all you could focus on was the needle in her hand.

The woman’s dark brown eyes flicked toward you, assessing your reaction. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just a small test,” she said, almost like she was coaxing you into compliance. “If you’re not a match, maybe you'll get lucky. You're a woman after all, you at least have other parts you can use to gain your freedom."

She stepped closer, the syringe gleaming under the dim basement light. Your body tensed, the urge to fight back bubbling up inside you. But you were weak, outnumbered, and utterly trapped.

“Hold out your arm,” she said softly, like she was giving you a choice.

Your breath caught in your throat as the syringe gleamed ominously in her hand. Your heart hurt as you glanced toward Reese, who stood in the corner, guilt-ridden and pale, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t help you—he wouldn’t help you.

You glanced back between her and the syringe, the world closing in tighter with each second. Your mind raced for a way out, some escape, but it was futile. Even if you refused, they’d force you—there was no other option.

You took a shaky breath and slowly extended your arm, the gesture more out of survival instinct than anything. Live long enough to find another way out, you told yourself, trying to cling to that sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was still time.

The woman smiled, satisfied, as she knelt beside you, her movements smooth and practiced. “Smart choice,” she said, wrapping a rubber band around your arm to prepare for the blood draw.

You winced as the needle pierced your skin, but you forced yourself to stay still. The vial began to fill with dark red blood, and the woman worked with a cold efficiency, as though she’d done this a hundred times before.

After what felt like an eternity, she withdrew the needle and pressed a cotton ball to your arm. “There,” she said, standing up and eyeing the shiny vial filled with your blood. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You wanted to lash out, to scream, but your body was too drained, your mind too scattered. She was right—it didn’t matter if it was easy or hard. What mattered was what came next.

The woman turned to the man with the heavy boots. “Get this to the lab,” she ordered, her tone brisk. “The results will tell us everything we need.”

He nodded and took the vial, disappearing back up the stairs without a word. The metal hatch closed behind him with a heavy thud, and the basement fell back into tense silence.

The woman stayed behind, her eyes never leaving you. “Now we wait,” she said, crossing her arms. “If you’re lucky, you won’t be a match. But if you are… well, we’ll be in touch.”

You swallowed hard, dread pooling in your stomach. The blood had been drawn, the wheels set in motion—and there was nothing you could do but wait for your fate to be decided.

Reese shifted uncomfortably in the corner, his eyes downcast, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The woman glanced at him, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “I suggest you keep her in good condition until we know for sure. We wouldn’t want her damaged, would we?”

Reese flinched but nodded, his guilt written all over his face.

And with that, the woman turned on her heel and left, her heels clacking up the stairs, the metal hatch sealing you back in the basement.

You were alone again—alone with Reese and the suffocating weight of your uncertain future.

As the metal hatch slammed shut, trapping you back in the dim, suffocating basement, something inside you snapped. The overwhelming dread, the helplessness, the betrayal—it all collided at once. Your chest tightened, and your blood boiled with the rage that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Your eyes locked onto Reese, who was still slouched in the corner, avoiding your gaze. His entire body trembled, but all you could see was the man who had led you into this nightmare. The man who had stood by and watched as they drew your blood like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

You trusted him.

"You," you spat, your voice cracking with fury. "I trusted you, Reese."

He flinched at your words, but he didn’t look up. His hands were shaking, balled into fists at his sides, but that didn’t matter. He had made his choice.

"I trusted you!" you shouted, your voice growing louder, the raw emotion burning through your exhaustion. "I told you everything—I told you about my escape, I thought you were trying to help me!"

Reese's lips trembled, and he finally raised his eyes to meet yours, guilt etched deep into his pale face. "I... I didn't have a choice," he stammered, his voice weak, barely audible. "They—they would've killed me if I didn’t—"

"Spare me!" you snapped, cutting him off. "You sold me, Reese! You handed me over to them like I was nothing!" The weight of his betrayal hit you all over again, the pain of it cutting deeper than any physical wound. You had told him about your kidnapping, he had watched you sob over Xavier, had you thinking he was someone you could trust, someone who cared.

Tears of frustration burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You couldn’t —not now, not for him of all people. "You knew what they were going to do to me," you continued, your voice trembling with anger. "You knew, and you did it anyway."

Reese shook his head, his voice cracking as he mumbled, "I—I didn't know they'd—about the organs. I thought..." He trailed off, as if the excuse could somehow absolve him. But it didn’t.

"Thought what?"

"I'd thought they'd just...rape you. And then dump you somewhere..." he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like the others.."

"Like the others?!" you said, your voice rising. "You...you've done this before? You're...sick! Fucking sick!"

He shrank back, visibly cowering under your words. "I didn't have a choice," he repeated weakly, like it was the only thing he could cling to.

"You always have a choice!" you shot back, your voice cracking from the strain. "You had a choice to be a good person, and you chose to betray me."

The room was silent after that, the air thick with tension. Reese had no response, nothing to say that could possibly justify what he'd done. He just stood there, looking more like a frightened child than the man who had so easily handed you over.

You swallowed hard, your chest heaving with the weight of your emotions. "I hope it was worth it," you said coldly, the anger fading into something far more painful. "I hope whatever they promised you was worth selling me like this."

Reese remained silent, his eyes cast down, unable to meet your gaze any longer.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but it held no weight, no real meaning. Before you could respond, he suddenly rushed past you, his footsteps heavy on the cold floor. He didn’t look back.

You watched, stunned, as he hurried up the wooden stairs, his movements frantic, almost as if he couldn’t bear to stay in the room with you a second longer. The old wooden stairs groaned under his weight, the sound harsh in the suffocating silence.

You stood frozen in place, your mind whirling with a mix of anger, disbelief, and the crushing weight of betrayal. His retreating figure disappeared through the metal hatch, and the sound of it slamming shut echoed through the basement like a final punctuation to his cowardice.

The room fell eerily quiet, the air thick with everything left unsaid. You were alone again, left with nothing but the cold, the dull ache of exhaustion, and the horrifying knowledge of what awaited you.

You slumped against the wall, the weight of the situation crashing down on you all at once. The basement felt smaller, colder, and more suffocating than before.

Days blurred into each other, each one indistinguishable from the next. The cold, damp basement became your prison, a place where time felt meaningless. Your mind drifted constantly, a mixture of fear, anger, and hopelessness gnawing at you from all sides. You found yourself thinking about Xavier—wondering if he was still out there, still searching for you. He had to be, didn’t he? You tried to cling to the idea that maybe, just maybe, he’d find you before it was too late.

You wished you had listened to him when he said he had a bad feeling about you going with Reese. How could you have been so stupid?

Reese came in and out of the basement sporadically, never staying for long. He kept his distance, barely making eye contact, as though seeing the consequences of his betrayal was too much for him to handle. He left you basic necessities—pads, water, a couple of small meals—but nothing more. Every time he disappeared, it felt like another thread of hope was being pulled away, leaving you more isolated than ever.

You pondered attacking Reese when he came down here next. He seemed fidgety and not as strong as the others. But still strong nonetheless. And in your weakened state, he could still take you down, or threaten you with the gun again.

At some point, you drifted off to sleep, exhaustion overtaking you in the cold dark. Your period had finally subsided, and so did the awful cramping, allowing you to rest at least somewhat peacefully. You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sound of the metal hatch creaking open startled you awake. Instinctively, you didn’t move, thinking it was Reese again—another silent, guilty visit to drop something off before fleeing.

But then, a deep, gruff voice pierced the silence. A voice you recognized, but not in the way that brought comfort.

“Well, look who’s sleeping like a baby,” the voice sneered, low and menacing.

Your heart sank, and fear surged through you as you realized it wasn’t Reese. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, and your breath caught in your throat when you shifted to look at the voice.

It was the man—the one who had helped Reese bring you down here in the first place. His heavy boots clomped against the wooden stairs as he descended, and his shadow loomed over you, large and threatening. His expression was cold, his eyes calculating as they swept over you, like he was assessing just how broken you’d become since last seeing him.

“Thought maybe you’d die of boredom or despair by now,” he muttered, amusement tinged in his voice. “Guess you’ve got a little more fight in you than I thought.”

You swallowed hard, your body going rigid. You stayed still, instinct telling you that any sudden movement might provoke him. The air around him seemed darker, more dangerous than Reese’s jittery cowardice. This man was different—he was in control, and he wasn’t afraid of you.

“What do you want?” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but defiant.

He stepped closer, his boots thudding against the concrete floor, the sound making your skin crawl. His smirk widened, and without warning, he crouched down, bringing his face level with yours.

“What I want,” he said, his voice low and mocking, “is to see if you’re worth anything besides your organs doll.”

The threat in his words hung heavy in the air, and you knew with chilling clarity that whatever came next, this man wasn’t here to make things easier for you.

The man crouched in front of you, his smirk growing wider as he watched the fear flicker across your face. You tried to keep still, to steady your breathing, but your body betrayed you—a small shiver ran through you, and you knew he’d seen it. His eyes glinted with satisfaction, feeding off your discomfort.

He leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his hot breath on your skin. "Reese might be too soft to touch a woman, but I’m not." His voice was a low, rumbling threat. "You’re property after all. But it'd be a shame to let sweet pussy go to waste before they cut you open."

You recoiled in horror at his depraved words, bile rising in your throat. The man straightened to his full height, towering over your prostrate form with an air of malevolent authority.

"So here's how this is going to go," he said casually, as if discussing the weather rather than your impending ravishment and dismemberment. "I'm going to have my fun..." He smirked cruelly. "And you are going to lay there and take it. Use any teeth and I'll rip them out of your head. Got it?"

Your mind raced, desperate to find some escape from the waking nightmare. But with Reese too cowardice to come down and interfere, and this sadistic brute clearly intent on violating you in the most degrading ways imaginable , you knew you were utterly at his mercy.

A strangled cry escaped your lips as tears streamed down your face. Despite your best efforts, the man's lecherous gaze only widened at the sight of you in distress. His grip on your arm tightened, filling you with pain.

"Go ahead and cry," he mocked. "It only turns me on even more, doll."

You screamed, desperately trying to free yourself and escape his grasp, but he was too strong. He slammed you back down onto the dirty mattress as you fought to kick him away. But he easily overpowered you and forced your leg back against the bed.

"Stop! Please!" you pleaded, horrified as he reached for the waistband of your sweatpants with his rough, calloused hands.

Panic surged through you as his fingers grazed your skin. In a burst of desperate strength, you twisted violently and managed to wrench your leg free. You kicked out hard, your foot connecting solidly with his jaw. He reeled back with a pained grunt, momentarily stunned.

"I said, lay there and take it" he growled, bringing his palm down against your face in a deafening slap. Angry hot pain radiates against your face and you cry out, tears spilling out faster now.

He wastes no time flipping you around, pinning you on your stomach against the bed. You sobbed loudly as he finishes pulling your sweatpants past your rear, rubbing his cold hands against the cloth of your underwear.

"Nice butt, smooth skin..." he growls, tugging off your underwear past your legs despite your struggle. "Oh this is gonna be so much fun."

Your underwear hits the concrete floor with a soft patter and your mind goes numb. There was truly no way out of this. Maybe the struggle was futile all along.

It was time to accept this.

Your body goes limp as you try to dissociate from the sound of the man unbuckling his belt. The sound of him shuffling with his underwear. The feel of his rough hands as he grabs your hips and raises them towards his groin, forcing you onto your elbows. You notice his breathing gets heavier as he takes in the sight of your exposed cunt.

"He shuffles in his pockets for a bit, looking for something. Your mind drifts off as he does so, thinking of the time Sylus had you in a similar position.

The morning he had promised to only do it once that day if you didn't fight him. You had picked the position yourself, not wanting to see him enter you again. At least that's what you told yourself.

Truthfully, you hated the way your face would heat up and your cunt grew wetter at the sight of his toned chest and stomach. The deep rumble of his voice in your ear as he praised you for taking him in all the way. You didn't know why your body reacted the way it did to him but it scared you. You had chalked it up to it just being an involuntary bodily reaction.

But there was no wetness when this beast touched you, no warmth or aching heat in your core.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of tearing plastic.

Ah, he brought a condom. At least you wouldn't have to worry about catching any diseases before you were hacked to pieces.

You almost laugh at the thought but nothing was funny truly. The man grumbles a bit and rolls the condom onto his thick shaft gently, his knuckles popping as he slides it down. The smell of latex and lubricant fill the air momentarily. You wish you could gag at the smell of it, but you're too scared to move anymore. He positions himself, aligning his tip with you. You brace yourself for the pain that is sure to come, your heart pounding in your chest as he presses forward.

"If you make a sound, I'll beat your ass stupid. Got it?" he growls.

You say nothing as he begins trying to push into you, but he had clumsily misjudged where your slit was and kept missing. You couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, this guy clearly didn't have much experience with the female body. You feel his hand slam down on your head, causing you to cry out.

"Ain't. Shit. Funny..." he snarled, gripping the side of your face even harder. You stifle another sob, trying your hardest to breathe against the mattress.

Still, he kept trying to force his cock inside you, every clumsy miss rubbing salt in the wound of your complete helplessness. He leans back momentarily to try and balance his cock against you. Your head throbs under his grip and you feel your eyes starting to gently close, sticky tears threaded between your lashes.

Your mind, desperate for an escape from the current nightmare, drifts back to Sylus. Memories of him rise to the surface, unbidden yet comforting in their own strange way. You recall his gentle gaze, the way he’d look at you when you opened your eyes in the morning—those moments when everything was still, and his presence felt like a soft cocoon of warmth around you. You’d never once seen him fall asleep before you. No, Sylus clearly only slept when it was "morning". Your circadian rhythms had always been completely opposite, and you knew, deep down, that he was likely watching over you as you slept.

It had never really felt invasive though. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you feel... cherished. As though, in his world of shadows, you were the one light he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

No one had ever looked at you with such adoring eyes—not even Xavier. Though Xavier had cared for you, and there were moments where you saw glimpses of that same tenderness, it was different with Sylus. Something deeper. Something more intense, as though you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

The thought made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected. Even now, locked in this nightmare, it was Sylus’s gaze that haunted you—not Reese’s guilt, not Xavier’s concern, but the way Sylus had seen you, like you were fragile and powerful all at once.

Despite everything, he had shown you the most kindness out of anyone in this horrid place.

"Sylus..." your voice escapes in a broken whisper, a fragile plea lost beneath the weight of fear. Silent tears streak down your face, and your body shakes uncontrollably beneath the man's looming presence. His grunting had finally stopped, but the air between you buzzes with his barely-contained fury. His body is tense, frustrated—still unable to force himself into you.

With a snarl, he suddenly flips you onto your back, his hands rough and merciless. The room spins for a second, and your breath catches in your throat. He looms over you, his eyes dark and burning with a cruel light.

"What the hell did I say about talking?," he growls, voice low and dangerous. His hand rises, fist clenched, muscles rippling as he prepares to strike. Your heart lurches, and a terrified squeal slips out, unbidden. You squeeze your eyes shut, body curling in on itself instinctively, trembling as you wait for the blow to fall.

The seconds stretch unbearably long.

But the pain never comes.

Instead, the air shifts—thickening, buzzing with something far darker than the man hovering above you. His fist, still poised to strike, halts mid-air. His breath stutters. Eyes wide with shock, he suddenly clutches at his throat, his face twisting into something grotesque, panicked. His mouth opens as if to scream, but only a strangled gasp escapes.

"Is that anyway to talk to a lady?"

You blink, unsure if you’re seeing it right—red mist, thin tendrils coiling through the air like living smoke. It winds around him, constricting. His body spasms as if in a silent scream, but no sound comes, only those terrible, wet choking noises.

His eyes meet yours for a fleeting second, wide with horror, before his body jerks violently. With a force that seems inhuman, he’s wrenched from above you, flung across the room like a rag doll. The impact as he slams into the far wall is sickening—bones cracking against stone, the wet sound of flesh collapsing under the blow.

He screams in agony, his body convulsing violently on the hard concrete as his cries echo through the space.

Your breath comes in shallow, rapid gasps, the red mist still hanging in the air, pulsing like it has a life of its own before it slowly starts to fade. The air grows colder in its absence, the immediate threat gone, but the tension in your chest refuses to ease. It's over, but the chaos is still fresh, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Then you see him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his white hair touched with streaks of silver, and those unmistakable crimson eyes—sharp, intense, but not as lethal as they were a moment ago. There's no mistaking Sylus, even through the haze of confusion clouding your mind. You blink, trying to process it all. He’s here, finally, but the emotions swirling inside you are a tangled mess.

He steps toward you, slow and deliberate, his gaze softening the closer he gets. Despite the relief that comes with his presence, something else churns beneath the surface—frustration, maybe even anger. He’s here, but it took so long. Too long.

"Why do you look so shocked?" Sylus smirks, his voice low and teasing, as if the sight of him towering over you like this is the most natural thing in the world. He tilts his head, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes as he studies your expression. "You called my name, didn’t you?"

You open your mouth, but no words come. Relief washes over you, but it’s tangled with confusion and resentment. Part of you wants to collapse into his arms, to finally feel safe, but another part of you burns with anxiety—why doesn't he look angry at you?

Sylus’s smirk softens into something more genuine, as if he senses the storm inside you. "I’m here now," he says, his voice quieter, almost gentle. But it doesn’t calm the whirlwind in your chest. You don’t know if you want to yell at him or thank him. Maybe both.

All you know is that the sight of him, standing there like he’s always been, stirs something deep within you that you can’t quite name. You're suddenly aware again of your half-nakedness and you rush to put back on your panties and sweatpants, much to Sylus's amusement.

“Wh-what took you so long?” you finally quip, a sharp edge to your voice as you lift your chin, deciding to meet his presence with defiance instead of relief. The condescension rolls off your tongue, even as your heart still pounds from the aftermath. You can feel the tension in your own body, a mix of trauma and pent-up frustration, but you mask it behind a cold stare.

Sylus moves toward the hyperventilating man still writhing on the ground, his gaze briefly flickering with something unreadable before a low chuckle escapes his lips. The sound reverberates through the room, rich and deep, completely unbothered by your biting words. His crimson eyes flick to you, amusement dancing in them, as if your sharp attitude was exactly what he’d anticipated.

“Is this the thanks I get, kitten?” he muses, his tone playful, yet carrying that underlying edge he always seems to have. A teasing smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he towers over you, utterly relaxed, like your defiance is nothing more than an amusing game to him.

"I save you, and all you’ve got is attitude?" He raises an eyebrow, the smirk on his lips widening as if he’s enjoying this far too much. “You’re getting harder to please.”

The comment, laced with a playful challenge, lingers in the air. He seems utterly unaffected, like your frustration has only fueled his amusement, and for a moment, it’s hard to tell whether you want to snap back or let your guard down. That smirk of his—so infuriatingly calm and knowing—pulls you deeper into the whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Before you can spit out a retort, the sound of scuffling and harsh footsteps echoes down the stairwell. Your attention snaps toward the noise just as Reese is unceremoniously dragged down the steps, his pleas and panicked protests filling the room. The twins, Luke and Kieran, have him by the arms, hauling him down with little effort. Reese stumbles on the last step, crashing face-first onto the concrete.

Luke and Kieran exchange satisfied glances, snickering as they stand over him, a mixture of triumph and mockery in voices.

"We got him, boss," Luke announces with a smirk, nudging the groaning man with his boot. "Tried to run, but he fell flat on his face." He punctuates his words with another casual kick to Reese's side. "Much like he did just now."

Reese winces in pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he slowly lifts his head. His gaze darts frantically around the room, his face paling as he realizes who surrounds him. His eyes widen in terror, flitting between you, Sylus, and the man still crumpled on the ground beside him, writhing in pain.

"S-Sylus..." Reese stammers, his voice barely a whisper as it cracks with fear. His entire body begins to tremble, the weight of what he’s done crashing down on him. "You ran away from Sylus...?" The disbelief in his own voice is palpable, as if fleeing from someone like Sylus was a death sentence all on its own.

Sylus’s crimson eyes narrow as he watches you closely, his expression shifting to something darker—something possessive. He takes a deliberate step toward you, the casual ease he held moments ago now replaced with a quiet intensity. His gaze flicks to Reese, then back to you, and though his smile remains, there’s no warmth behind it.

"So," Sylus begins, voice smooth but tinged with something uneasy, "seems the two of you have gotten well acquainted?" The question feels loaded, not out of curiosity, but something more. His eyes bore into yours, as if searching for answers beyond your words. The smirk on his lips falters just slightly, betraying the irritation he’s trying to mask.

The tension between you grows thicker, his posture subtly shifting as if he’s placing himself between you and Reese. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t so much as glance at the trembling man on the ground. His focus is solely on you, as though the possibility of friendship with someone, especially another man, unsettles him more than the danger you just faced.

You shake your head immediately, the denial spilling from your lips without hesitation. "We’re not close!" you say quickly, the firmness in your voice leaving no room for doubt. "He’s no one to me."

Sylus’s eyes remain locked on yours, his crimson gaze intense, but you don’t falter. "Reese… he tricked me," you continue, the words coming faster now. "He’s the reason I’m down here in the first place. I didn’t come down here willingly. I followed him, stupidly thinking he was going to help me."

Your last words are filled with malice as your eyes flick to Reese, who cowers on the ground, unable to meet your glare. You shoot him a look of pure disdain, your anger boiling over at how easily he had deceived you, how he had dragged you into this mess.

Before you can say anything more, Sylus reaches out, his hand cool against your hair as he rubs the top of your head with an almost unnerving gentleness. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s the smug look on his face that catches you off guard.

“I know, sweetie,” Sylus says, his voice smooth and dripping with that signature arrogance. His eyes glitter with amusement as he watches you closely, his smirk deepening. “I watched you disappear into this house. I saw everything.” He speaks as if he had been in control of the situation from the start, his tone laced with confidence, as if he was always one step ahead.

"You were following me the entire time?" you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief as you try to piece together how much of this Sylus had been controlling from the shadows. Sylus merely chuckles, the sound rich and full of amusement, like your confusion was a source of entertainment for him.

"Something like that," he replies casually, his smirk widening. "I had Mephisto follow you."

As if on cue, swirl of red mist begins to materialize on Sylus's shoulder. The mist condenses around the form until, with a sharp, eerie caw, a large black crow appears, its wings flapping beside Sylus’s head. The bird’s eyes glow faintly, a reflection of the same crimson hue in Sylus’s gaze.

"Mephisto?" you and Reese say at the same time, your voices overlapping in disbelief.

You take a step back, staring at the bird in shock. "Mephisto... he's been that bird this whole time?" The revelation hits you like a slap in the face. You'd seen the bird before—many times, in fact—but you’d never thought it was more than just an ordinary creature. Now, the sight of it perched so confidently on Sylus’s shoulder, surrounded by that ominous red mist, makes your head spin.

Reese, still on the ground, stares up at the bird and then back at you, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. "I thought your name was Meph—" he begins, his voice trembling as he looks between you and Sylus, but his words are abruptly cut off.

Sylus’s expression hardens instantly, the playful amusement evaporating as he glares down at Reese with pure disdain. His eyes darken, the malice in them palpable as he takes a step toward Reese, who shrinks back, trembling.

"Don’t talk to her," Sylus snaps, his voice cold and sharp, dripping with venom. The possessiveness in his tone is undeniable, a clear warning that Reese’s mere presence, let alone his attempt to speak to you, is unforgivable in Sylus’s eyes. The tension in the room grows suffocating, the danger swirling around Sylus like a storm barely contained, and you can’t help but feel the weight of his protectiveness—both unsettling and strangely reassuring.

Mephisto caws again, the shrill sound echoing through the room as if punctuating Sylus’s command.

Reese looks away, trembling on the ground. Your head spins, barely able to process what's going on here. You suddenly feel dizzy, as if the room was getting smaller and smaller.

You hadn't truly escaped from him. Not once, the entire time you had been gone. He had been watching. His influence here stretched farther than you could ever imagine.

Reese looks away, trembling on the ground, clearly too terrified to challenge Sylus any further. His presence becomes insignificant in the midst of everything else crashing down around you. Your head spins, the room seeming to close in on you as the weight of the situation presses against your chest. It’s suddenly hard to breathe, as if the air itself is suffocating you. You try to steady yourself, but a dizzying realization takes hold.

Every step you’d taken, every move you thought was yours alone—he had been watching.

Mephisto.

Sylus had seen everything, every moment you thought you were free, unraveling in front of your eyes now like a cruel illusion. His influence, his reach—it stretched farther than you could have ever imagined.

The invisible leash you thought you’d slipped off, the one you were so sure you'd broken, had never left your neck at all. It had been there the whole time, just waiting to tighten when he decided.

Your pulse quickens, panic settling in as the walls seem to close in tighter, the room shrinking around you. The thought of being watched, controlled, all while you believed you had any autonomy—it sends a cold wave of dread down your spine. Sylus’s smirk, the way he speaks so casually about it, only amplifies the feeling that you were never really out of his grasp.

He knew. He always knew where you were.

And here he stands, calm and possessive, like he’s merely reclaiming what was his all along.

The weight of it all becomes too much to bear, and your legs give way beneath you. You crumble to the floor, feeling as though the world has closed in around you. The realization sinks deeper, suffocating you with the cold, hard truth—despite all your efforts, all your fighting, you’re right back where you started. The leash had never been cut. You hadn’t escaped. And now, the path ahead is one you thought you'd left behind.

Your body trembles, you let out a sob, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions—fear, frustration, resignation. But before the panic can fully take over, you feel a hand brush against your shoulder, light and reassuring. Sylus crouches down beside you, his presence filling the space, his voice low and deceptively soothing.

"Shh, kitten," he murmurs softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a caress, though it only twists the knife deeper in your chest. "It’s alright. I’ve found you, its okay." His tone is affectionate, but there’s something twisted lurking beneath the surface, a dark possessiveness wrapped in that comforting voice.

"You're mine again," Sylus whispers, his voice soft but laced with an iron-clad certainty. His fingers delicately trace small circles on your back, sending involuntary shivers up your spine. You don't look at him, unable to meet his eyes. Your chest tightens, and you can feel the threat of tears building, teetering dangerously close to spilling over.

As much as you wanted to leave this wretched place, to escape the nightmare of it all, the thought of being trapped with him—completely under his control—felt just as suffocating. Maybe more. Yet, despite that suffocating feeling, your body betrays you. You’re not pulling away from him. You’re not resisting.

Why weren’t you leaning away from him right now?

"Don't cry," he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your skin, drowning out the cold, damp air of the basement. "Not now. Not in front of them."

Before you can process his words, the room fills with a new, horrific sound. Reese and the bleeding man on the ground suddenly scream, the agony ripping from their throats. Red tendrils of mist swirl violently around their bodies, coiling like snakes ready to strike. The sound of broken bones echoes sharply through the space as Reese is slammed into the back wall next to his fallen comrade, the impact brutal, unforgiving. The sight sends a fresh wave of horror washing over you.

You instinctively shift your gaze toward the carnage, wanting to see what’s happening—but Sylus’s hand shoots up, his fingers gripping your chin firmly. With a gentle yet unyielding force, he turns your face back to him, refusing to let you look anywhere else but into his crimson eyes.

"Look at me," he commands softly, his tone dark but calm, as if the violence behind you was nothing but a trivial distraction. His fingers are warm against your skin, his touch disturbingly tender despite the chaos around you.

His crimson eyes lock onto yours, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a vice. He leans in closer, his bourbon cologne enveloping your senses, his presence suffocating yet intoxicating.

"I’m the only one," he murmurs, his voice a possessive, almost dangerous softness, "who gets to see you cry."

The declaration sends a chill down your spine, and your heart clenches at the weight of it. There's a dark finality in his words—a twisted claim over every ounce of your suffering, every emotion that was once yours, now his to control. The room feels smaller, the air thinner, as if everything in this moment is solely for him, as though the very act of your tears belongs to him and him alone.

You can feel the tears threatening again, but now even that feels like giving in to him—another part of yourself slipping through your fingers, taken by the man who holds you so tightly in his grip, both physically and mentally. And as his thumb lingers on your cheek, his gaze never wavering, you realize just how much he's wrapped himself in every aspect of your life.

The screaming in the room builds to a deafening crescendo, filling every inch of the space with the sounds of agony. Reese’s voice cuts through the chaos, desperate, pleading.

“Please, make him stop! Ask him to stop!” Reese begs, his voice cracking, raw from pain and terror. His broken body trembles against the wall, red mist still coiling around him like a vice, squeezing the life out of him with every passing second. He looks at you, eyes wide, desperate, his fear palpable.

"I-I helped you! R-remember? I'm sorry!"

For a moment, you hesitate, frozen in place, the weight of his suffering tugging at some distant part of your conscience. Should you take pity on him? The thought flickers briefly in your mind. But then you remember. The lies, the manipulation, how he had dragged you into this nightmare without a second thought. Your heart hardens.

You look at him, your voice cold and unwavering.

“Go to hell, Reese.”

The words cut through the air, sharp and final. Reese’s eyes widen in horror, but before he can speak another word, Sylus moves with a calm, terrifying ease. Without a second thought, he reaches into his coat, pulling out a sleek black pistol. The room falls eerily silent for a brief second, the chaos holding its breath.

And then, without a word or hesitation, Sylus points the gun at Reese and pulls the trigger.

The shot rings out, and Reese’s body goes limp, his head lolling to the side as blood pools beneath him. The life drains from his eyes in an instant. The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of what just happened settling heavily in the air.

You stare at the scene in shock, unable to fully process how quickly it had all happened. Your breath catches in your throat, your mind racing as you look to Sylus. But he simply shrugs, completely unfazed, his expression calm and even slightly amused.

“I sent him to hell, just like you said, sweetie,” Sylus says casually, tucking the pistol away as if nothing had happened. His voice is smooth, disturbingly nonchalant, like this was just another task to cross off his list. His eyes, however, flicker with something darker—satisfaction, perhaps, or just a quiet thrill at doing what he believed you wanted.

Your stomach twists, a mixture of shock and disbelief churning inside you. Sylus turns his gaze back to you, his smirk still present, as if waiting for your approval or reaction. You say nothing, just watching as Reese's once lively body slumped to the floor.

Sylus then turns his attention to the last man still clinging to life, his crimson eyes narrowing with cold calculation. Without a word, the red mist surrounding him begins to swirl, thickening and intensifying with an ominous hum. The tendrils of mist snake their way toward the man, wrapping around him like a tightening noose.

The man’s breathing becomes erratic, desperate gasps for air as his body convulses. He tries to scream once more, but no sound escapes his throat as the mist constricts further, crushing the last remnants of life out of him. His limbs jerk, his eyes wide with terror as the pressure grows unbearable.

Sylus watches with a dark, detached satisfaction, his hand slightly raised as if guiding the mist with an almost casual precision. Then, Sylus clenches his fist. And with a final, sickening crack, the man’s body gives way. The force of Sylus’s power snaps through him like a vice tightening too fast. His chest caves in, bones splintering as the red mist crushes him entirely.

A grotesque splatter erupts as his body meets the tiled shower wall behind him, his carnage painting it in violent shades of red. Blood and tissue streak down the wall, dripping in a slow, macabre trail, the remnants of his existence.

You flinch, your breath catching in your throat at the brutality of it all, but Sylus remains calm, lowering his hand as the mist dissipates, his expression indifferent to the destruction he’s caused.

"Sorry," Sylus says smoothly, his tone as casual as if he had just finished a routine task. His gaze slides back to you, eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. "I didn't want them breathing the same air as you any longer."

The room is deathly silent now, save for the slow drip of blood from the walls, and the overwhelming finality of it all settles in your chest. You can't tear your eyes away from the gruesome scene, the shock numbing your senses as Sylus steps in front of you, his presence once again wrapping around you like a suffocating mist. His dark eyes bore into yours, a predator sizing up its prey, his calmness only amplifying the terror that gnaws at the edges of your mind.

You flinch as the squelch of his shoes on the blood-soaked floor breaks the silence, your heart pounding in your throat. Every instinct tells you to run, but your legs refuse to obey, frozen in the icy grip of fear. Sylus tilts his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, unreadable smile.

"Woo hoo! Boss is so cool!" Luke chimes in, his bubbly voice shattering the eerie stillness. He gives Kieran a high five before erupting into a fit of laughter. The contrast between his cheerful tone and the grotesque scene feels jarring, almost surreal. You glance at him, baffled by the carefree attitude, as if the carnage before him was nothing more than an impressive show.

He bounces on his feet, voice shrill with admiration as he watches Sylus with the same excitement one might have for a favorite hero. The dissonance is unsettling, pulling you deeper into the spiraling nightmare, where the boundaries between reality and madness blur with each passing second.

Sylus doesn’t react to Luke’s enthusiasm, his focus entirely on you.

Sylus, now visibly more at ease after the extermination of the two men, steps forward with a calm confidence. His eyes never leave yours as he crouches down and effortlessly grabs you from the floor, hoisting you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing. The abruptness of it sends a jolt through your body, and you instinctively try to push away, but his grip only tightens—firm, yet almost playful, like a cat owner gently restraining a stubborn pet.

His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, and when he speaks, his voice is laced with dark amusement. "Ah ah, I won’t let my kitten scatter off a second time."

Your body begins to tremble uncontrollably in his arms, the weight of the situation finally crashing over you like a wave. You had escaped—however briefly—and now you were trapped again. The suffocating inevitability of it wraps itself around you, a crushing reminder that there was bound to be a punishment for trying to flee. Your mind flashes with memories of him slicing open your arm, the cold, detached precision of it, and you wince as the old wound aches in response.

"Please... I'm sorry," you whine, your voice barely above a whisper as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "Don’t hurt me again, don’t punish me."

Sylus tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes watching you with that unsettling mixture of amusement and something that borders on tenderness. "Sweetie, it’s okay," he whispers, his tone disturbingly gentle. He reaches up to brush a bit of dirt from your face, his fingers cold against your skin. "Do you really think I’m going to hurt you? Am I that scary?"

Despite the soft cadence of his voice, the dissonance between his words and the twisted affection in his gaze only amplifies your fear. He holds you securely as he begins to ascend the stairs, leaving the bloodied carnage in the basement to rot, a gruesome memory that would never wash away.

As you both make your way out of the metal hatchet you spot various bags filled with small white powdery substances settled on the couch and tables.

Drugs. Reese had been tricking girls and trading them for drugs.

The air grows cooler as you pass through the broken, dingy living room and out into the crisp, suffocating night of the N109 Zone. With a shrill caw, and a flatter of his wings, Mephisto takes flight and disappears into the night sky.

A dark car with blacked-out windows waits for you at the curb, its ominous presence sending your heart racing again. You think about making a run for it—just for a fleeting second—but that hope vanishes as the twins scatter hurriedly to the front seats, and Sylus pushes you both into the back with an effortless shove.

The car roars to life, and the world outside begins to blur as you realize the inevitable: you were headed back to your cage, the one you had fought so desperately to leave. Sylus keeps you firmly straddled on his lap, his grip unyielding, as if he thought you’d vanish into the night if he let go for even a moment. His eyes, sharp and predatory, stay locked on you, unblinking and watchful.

For a while, the only sound is the hum of the engine as it cuts through the night, the silence between you as suffocating as his hold. Then, suddenly, Sylus lets out a long sigh, breaking the quiet as he leans forward, his face burying into the curve of your neck. The unexpected closeness makes your skin prickle. He nuzzles into your skin like a bird seeking warmth, though you doubted you smelled like anything but blood and grime.

"I missed you," he whispers, his voice soft but strained, as though it carries a deep weight of worry. He shifts, tilting his head up to look at you, his gaze surprisingly gentle, like someone gazing at something precious. His eyes search yours, a strange vulnerability flickering behind the usual cold dominance. "So, so much."

Something tightens in your chest at the sight of him looking at you this way, as though you were his treasure, something he had longed for. The sincerity in his expression shakes you, confusing your thoughts even further. Could he possibly mean it?

"Did you miss me?" he asks, his lips curling into a small, almost playful smile.

You just stare at him, uncertain how to respond. The words lodge in your throat, and before you can stop yourself, you turn your head away, avoiding his eyes. The truth is, you don’t know what to feel. Had you missed him? Or were you just desperate to be saved, no matter who?

He chuckles softly at your reaction, resting his head gently against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. "It’s okay," he murmurs. "You don’t have to answer."

As the car speeds deeper into the dark, your mind begins to spiral, thoughts tangling into knots you can’t unravel. As his arms tighten around you, keeping you pinned in place, you ponder a persistent thought.

Sylus had said he wouldn’t hurt you—but he never said he wouldn’t punish you.

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace smut #sylus #sylus x reader smut #l&ds smut #lads #love and deepspace x reader #love and deep space x reader #loveanddeepspace #lnds #l&ds #love and deep space smut #lads smut #love and deep space sylus #l

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latenightdaydreams · 6 months ago

Note

https://twitter.com/ADULT1z/status/1771716362068488554?t=7VvsSwP2-YWROrjIg27kKg&s=19

Can you please write about Konig with his wife who lactating without getting pregnant, like because of her genes. Konig definitely goes feral about that. ❤️

He would have hit the jackpot with y/n 🤭💗

König x Lactating!Wife (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, lactation, masturbation

König has his arm wrapped around you as you both snuggle, watching your favorite movie. His hand slips past the collar of your shirt and into your bra, twirling his fingers around your nipple. He gently squeezes your nipple, as he always does, but this time, a small bubble of milk came up. Without realizing it, he rubs his finger over your nipple and feels the wet sensation.

His attention instantly went from the movie to your breasts. He squeezes your nipple once more, expressing more milk out. Annoyed, you push his hand away.

“Liebling, you’re lactating? Are you pregnant?” König reaches forward for the remote to pause the movie.

“No,” a giggle carries in your voice, “I just do that.”

“We’ve been married for three years, I’d know.”

“It’s only the week before my period, when I rarely let you touch them because they’re sore.”

König just looked at you with a face of confusion but also excitement. His eyes drop to the small wet patch that has appeared on your shirt. He bites his cheek as he thinks about all the amazing things he can do now.

“Can I see it without your shirt?”

“I’m not in the mood Kö.” You pout.

“No sex. You can keep watching your movie. Please?”

When you look at him, you can’t help but to smile at how pathic he is for your breasts. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” A playful tone carries in your voice as you pull your shirt off and unhook your bra.

König watches closely as your breasts fall from their place of captivity. You should be braless 24/7. If it were up to him, he would ban them from this house. He resumes your moves as he pinches your nipple again. He sees the milk rise to the surface and smiles.

“Don’t be rough.”

“I won’t.” König whispers as he pinches your other nipple to see the milk leak out, but it squirts out and farther, spraying the coffee table. “Wow…”

König looks up at your face to make sure you aren’t feeling any discomfort. He sees you look at him with a smirk before turning back to the movie. Moving back to the breast closer to him, he squeezes hard. Milk sprays out in different angles, causing König to let out a groaning sound. The fabric of his pajamas tightening as his cock becomes erect.

He leans in, tongue reaching out and tasting some of the milk dripping from your breast. The second the sweet, warm drop touched his tongue, he instantly became addicted. His massive body closed in around you as he grabbed your breast and squeezed milk into his mouth.

Laughing, you push him. “König, you’re blocking the TV.”

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckles.

Instead of leaning over you, he lies on your lap. Your breasts dangling above his face. What a lovely view. One of his hands reaches out to squeeze your breast again. White pearly beads roll down his face and soak his hair.

König leans up slightly and latches to your breast. He sucks hard a few times, allowing your sweet tasting milk to fill his mouth before he swallows and drinks more from you. His hand assisting by squeezing your breast so tightly it gets red.

“Gentle.” You whisper and run your fingers through his blonde hair.

“Mmm, don’t stop touching my hair.” The soft tone of your words and the way your fingers feel make him shiver.

He removes his hand from your breast. Instead, he begins to pull down his blue plaid pajama bottoms. Once his cock springs free he wraps his hand around, pulling back his foreskin. With slow strokes he begins to jerk off. His mouth getting so overflowed with milk that a bit spills from the side of his mouth, causing him to moan. The sensation of your warm milk filling his mouth as you pet his hair is orgasmic in itself. He feels like a naughty step-son with his big breasted step-mom.

“Can you spray me?” His voice shaky with pleasure.

A smirk on your lips as you lean back and grab your breast. You squeeze it and watch the milk spray over his face. When his greedy mouth comes up to latch again, you pull back. His eyes open, a look of confusion on his face.

“Will you be a good boy?”

His eyes light up as he realizes what you’re doing. “Ja, I’ll be the best boy for you.” Every word is uneven as he strokes his cock in a rapid motion. “Please.”

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x y/n #cod smut #konig x reader smut #x reader #konig x you #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig lactation

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3rachasdomesticbanana · 2 months ago

Text

Boyfriend's Best friend | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Like the embers shared between you and your boyfriend's bestie, boundaries are burned away until there's nothing but smoke and ash. Can you come back from being too badly burned by the mistake you two made? Or will the bitter taste remain, ruining everything?

•Pairings: Han Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, heavy use of weed, betrayal, lies, secrets, regret, heartbreak, college au, friends to ?

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

Your boyfriend of one year is cheating on you.

You knew that; he just doesn't know that you know. Even his best friend knows you know, but out of respect for your wishes, he's kept quiet. Why? Because despite Danny and Jisung being inseparable since diapers, Jisung has been a true friend to you since you met Danny at the coffee shop years ago. Jisung isn't just someone you share music theory class with; he's also the vocalist and lead guitarist of the band Respirator, where you play the drums.

So you've got an alliance with Jisung. He was there for you the night you found out. Alone in the campus auditorium, you texted Jisung. Your first instinct was to call your best friend Ana, but interrupting her date with Chris was out of the question. Jisung stayed with you in that cold, creepy theater and let you cry into his chest for hours. He just couldn't understand why you continued to stay, why you continued to let Danny fuck you, knowing he's fucking someone else. He knew where his friend was before he'd come back to their shared apartment and yet he'd hear your moans through the poorly insulated walls.

“I have no excuse for him, Y/N. He's an asshole for playing you like this. I've tried to get him to see the error of his ways, but fuck… he's only thinking with his dick,” Jisung says, shaking his head and glancing at his friend who's fast asleep on the couch.

A night of forgotten textbooks and study notes overtaken by weed, beer, and pizza has knocked your boyfriend out cold. You don't look in the direction of the couch; instead, you inhale the hot smoke from the joint between your fingers, letting your head fall back before blowing the smoke into the air. You lay down on the hard cedarwood floor, your foot lightly bumping one of the many pillows piled up in one corner where Jisung sits.

“Yeah, there's no point in talking to him, Ji. He'll only do what he wants, not what's right,” you say, taking another hit and passing it over to Jisung.

Your fingers brush when he reaches for it, and you feel tempted to crawl over to him so he can hug the numb feeling in your chest away. You could use some genuine affection after watching Danny sneak off earlier with the excuse of needing to speak to his Tech professor. But if Mr. Campbell has turned into a little blonde with pigtails and a short pink skirt, then he most definitely wasn't in a meeting with his professor.

The little blonde… you don't even know who she is or if she even goes to college. The only thing you know is that you are nothing like her. Where her wardrobe is probably ninety percent pink, yours is ninety percent black. Typical style of a girl in a band: your jeans have rips in them and are either too tight or too loose. Your shirts are a bit of the same; sometimes they hug the curves of your breasts and waist, other times they swallow you up. Your thoughts are heavy in your smoky, hazy mind, and the soft strumming from Jisung's guitar sets the ambiance of your momentary self-pity.

“Maybe I should change up my style, Ji. Do you think then he might love me again?”

God, that sounds awful, you think as soon as the words leave your mouth. You cover your face with your hands and then drape them over your stomach. The baggy My Chemical Romance band tee has bunched up, and your midsection feels the occasional breeze from the open window, making you shiver.

“Nah, Y/N, don't think that. Your style is what makes you, you. If he can't see how hot you are no matter what you wear, then that's his problem, not yours,” Jisung says seriously.

You hear him suck in the smoke and exhale slowly. With heavy lids, you turn your head to the side and look at him. He smiles as his fingers glide over the strings of his fiery red guitar, his eyes half-lidded and pink with a lazy smile.

“Thanks, Ji,” you mumble and return the equally lazy smile.

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze lingering longer than usual, and it unexpectedly makes your pulse race. There's something about his eyes that has always had a hypnotic effect on you. Siren eyes, they lure you in, making it impossible to escape unless he lets his gaze drop. He closes his eyes when the smoke threatens to get in them, breaking the hold you weren’t even aware he had on you.

The joint hangs from his lips, a thin trail of smoke billowing up around the rim of his hat and curling toward the ceiling. He inhales slowly, the smoke filling his lungs before he exhales and opens his eyes, watching the way you look at him. So laid-back with that dreamy expression on your face, his thoughts betray him for the third time tonight. An image created from smoke appears in his mind: you're looking at him exactly the way you are now, only you're on your knees as he cradles your face in his hands, fucking himself into your warm mouth. That’s the tamest fantasy he's had tonight. The others are far more explicit, like scenes pulled straight from a hentai.

Throughout the night, Jisung struggled to focus on any of his study material. It wasn't just because he was mentally drained from studying. Sure, that was part of it, but the sight of you chewing on your lush pink lips while you went over your notes for music theory kept distracting him. They looked so soft and your constant chewing made them red and puffy. He wondered if you dug your teeth into the flesh just like that when Danny was inside you. He couldn't help but picture you whimpering and whining past your trapped bottom lip while he drilled his dick into your sweet pussy. He already knows what you sound like so it's not hard to imagine the faces you would make.

He couldn't shake the image of those same lips of yours being covered in his warm, sticky cum. His imagination was too vivid with you right in front of him and the weed from the gummy he ate before you and Danny showed up. He had been rock hard and throbbing for hours, making studying beyond frustrating. It turned into a battle with his own mind. So he was more than happy to welcome the smoke sesh. Sure, he felt a bit guilty for daydreaming about his buddy's girl, but it's not like he'd ever act on it. It's all just harmless thoughts, he told himself. It's not like he was in love with you or anything… he just found you to be the embodiment of perfection in human form. Seriously, Danny calls you Jisung's twin more times than you're aware, so it's natural for him to think of you as the coolest chick he's ever met. You wouldn't be in the band he created if he didn't think highly of you.

“You want another hit?” he asks, holding the joint out to you with his index finger and thumb.

Your eyes lock onto his hands, noticing the multiple silver rings that decorate each of his long fingers and the veins that crisscross the back of his. More times than you can count you've heard girls talking about how sexy his hands were and you never noticed how right they are until now. Noticing the way his fingers loosely wraps around the neck of the guitar, your brain goes to the gutter and starts wondering if that's how he holds his cock when he's jerking off to the sound of you getting fucked. You know he does it. You could see it in his face one day when you bumped into him on the way to the bathroom. His hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed and the large swallow he made when your bodies connected told you what he was doing in the next room.

With a slow nod, you sit up and move closer and take it from him, your fingers brushing against his again only this time there's something that passes between you but you ignore it, bringing the joint to your lips and taking a deep drag.

You inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs before you exhale slowly, watching the tendrils curl into the air. You feel the heat, the burn of the smoke and it feels almost euphoric. The room feels warmer, cozier, and everything with your boyfriend is forgotten for now with more thc in you. Jisung watches you, completely captivated by the way you wrap your lips around the filter end gently and suck in the smoke. His eyes darken for just a second before he pats the space in front of him on the floor.

“Come here, I'll teach you the basics,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

“Really?” you ask excitedly after taking another puff and setting the joint into the ashtray. He chuckles, nodding with a large smile your way.

You close the distance, settling between his legs with your back to his front and it feels like the most normal natural thing in the world. He hands you the instrument resting it in your lap, and his arms encircle you as he guides your hands to the strings. The heat of his body seeps into yours, and you can feel his breath against your neck, slow and even. His breath is warm, smelling faintly of the weed you just shared, and sugary soda that's oddly comforting to you.

“What song do you want to play?” he asks, his voice a soft hush against your ear. The sensation to your ear and the deep rumble on your back from when he speaks, makes you shiver involuntarily.

You think for a moment, your mind swimming through the smoky haze and then you smile. "Thinking Out Loud?" you say phrasing it like a question.

He chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Ah, my man Sheeran. Good choice, y/n. Not gonna lie, I thought you'd pick one of our songs." he murmurs, taking your hand in his and begins to guide your fingers over the strings.

The notes are clumsy at first, your movements unsure but Jisung is patient, his hands steady as he teaches you the chords. You giggle softly as you fumble through the chords, “Good thing I'm a drummer. This is harder than it looks.” You say with a laugh and Jisung’s laughter mingles with yours.

His hands are warm and strong, his touch firm but gentle. He's the perfect guitar teacher, kind and informative. Once you start to get the hang of playing, he lets you play on your own, his arms still loosely around you, elbows resting on his knees. He begins to sing softly, his voice smooth and melodic fills the room and your heart with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"... People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand,"

His voice is mesmerizing, hypnotic even and you’re impressed. You've heard him sing but nothing as soft as this. Each note wraps around you like a tight embrace. You join in on the last four verses, the thc boosting your confidence and your voices come together sweetly. The song ends with the last note and chord lingering in the air. You’re giggling excitedly, so lost in the music, that you almost don’t notice the hardness pressing against your back until your laughter subsides. Your body feels suddenly hot when you do, a flush spreading across your skin. You turn your head slightly to look at him, intending to say something, but the words catch in your throat.

He knows you can feel it, how can you not? He's rock hard. It's not that he was thinking of anything particularly sexy. It was your singing voice that did it for him. The way your voices mingled together sounded hauntingly beautiful to him. Not to mention the barely noticeable vibration through your body when you sang. He has no control over the effect you had on him. He willed is dick to go down the entire time you two sang but there was nothing he could do but pray you wouldn't notice. That was out of the question once your laughter shook your body. His cock twitched inside of his shorts, pulsating against your back. He held his breath and hoped you wouldn't say anything but you turned to look at him. You parted your lips prepared to speak but said nothing, only quiet panting made its way out of you. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms and your lips, right there so close to his, made something inside of him crack.

Before you can react, Jisung’s lips are on yours, kissing you with sudden urgency. Your mind goes blank, every thought drowned out by the intensity of the kiss. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back closer to him like you'll drift away like the smoke of the joints from earlier. You can’t help but respond, your fingers tangling in his hair knocking his hat off as you kiss him back desperate for more. Jisung’s grip on you tightens as his tongue explores your mouth with a desperate need. The guitar is forgotten, pushed aside as he shifts, turning you so that you're facing him. He gently lays you down onto the pile of pillows on the floor, his body pressing you down into the pile that feels like clouds. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch, every kiss, it's all amplified by the cannabis coursing through your veins.

"Y/N," Jisung whispers, his voice rough with desire, as he presses his clothed erection against your core. The friction is maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you and you moan in response as your hips come up off the ground, bucking against him.

You're not thinking anymore, your hands just move on their own seeking more of what's making you feel so good. Everything around you is hazy and black around the edges like a dream. All you’re aware of is the incredible sensation that seems to take over your entire body.

"Jisung…" you breathe, your voice trembling.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. He silently pleads for you to tell him to stop but you can't. You don't want him to stop. You want him, need him in a way that you can't describe with words.

"Don't stop." you whisper back, your voice barely audible. “More.”

He growls low in his throat, his hands squeezing your hips as he starts to move faster, the pressure building, driving you both closer to the edge. It feels incredible, each rub, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through you. Jisung’s hips move faster, his breath coming in harsh pants as he grinds against you. You can feel yourself getting close, building to a crescendo and you know he's close too, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He doesn't care that he's about to cum in his pants just from dry humping you. You feel so damn incredible in his arms. But you stop him suddenly, your hands on his chest and he looks at you with wide glassy eyes.

"I need you inside me." you say, your voice breathy and husky.

He stops his movements, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your hands moving to his shorts, tugging them down. "Yes. Please. Fuck me, Jisung."

In the haze of weed and pleasure, a thought cuts through the fog. This is wrong. Danny is just a few feet away, sleeping peacefully in Jisung’s bed. But the thought is fleeting, quickly drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of Jisung’s body pressing into yours. He fumbles with his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. You lift your hips, helping him slide your leggings and panties down in one quick move. Back between your legs, he positions himself at your entrance and a bead of precum forms, dripping down and disappearing into one of the pillows. His eyes meet yours as he rubs the head of his cock up and over your folds, collecting your arousal and getting tip nice and wet. You shudder keeping your eyes locked onto his.

He rubs the length of his cock against you, teasing your clit in a circular motion. Maybe if he doesn't actually fuck you, it's not that big of a betrayal to his friend, he thinks lamely, knowing how idiotic that sounds. Still, Jisung convinces himself that if there's no actual penetration, maybe he won't feel so guilty. If he just gets you both off like this, he could somewhat live with himself.

Your body shakes under him each time he thrusts upward, and he can feel your pussy getting wetter, making things far more slippery. "Yeah, you can cum like this, y/n, I know you can. Just cum like this for me. Fuck, let me cum on your stomach, and we can innocently continue our night," he coaxes you inside his head, his hips moving faster. You're so wet that Jisung slips and slides over your pussy with ease. He misjudges when he goes to push up again, moving far too quickly and slams hard into your cunt, making you both moan louder than intended. Both of you freeze, glancing over at Danny as he shifts in his sleep and rolls over to face the back of the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you and Jisung groan quietly in unison, trying to stay still with your hearts beating fast with fear.

"Fuck, you're so tight, y/n," he groans, his voice quiet and strained. "You feel so fucking good."

He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. But it doesn't take long for the need to take over and soon he's fucking you forcefully and fast, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate intensity. Each thrust hits a spot deep inside you, that makes you want to scream. You close your eyes and see spots of lights behind your lids in the same purple hue that glows around the TV in the room. You can barely form coherent thoughts, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. All you can do is moan his name, over and over, as he takes your pleasure higher. The room is filled with the slapping sounds of skin against skin, the wet, obscene noises of your arousal mixing with your moans and his grunts.

He leans down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts and you can taste the sweet saltiness of his sweat on his skin. His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through your bra, adding to the onslaught of sensations. You can’t keep your hands off him, your fingers dig into his back as he fucks you hard, gliding down his skin making thin faint red lines. Jisung's thoughts are a mess. He's never felt like this before, never been this out of control. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, that he's betraying his best friend, but he can't stop. Your pussy feels too good to him, too perfect. You're perfect. The way your pussy pulls him in and squeezes his cock. It's heaven to him.

“So wet… oh god. So fucking perfect, y/n. Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at you.

You can only moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrusts harder, faster. The pleasure is a flame setting you both ablaze. It’s messy and intense, growing bigger and wilder with every touch and movement amplified by the high.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice rough.

Jisung’s dominance surprises you, the way he takes control, guiding your body with a confidence that leaves you breathless. You open your eyes and gasp at the expression on his face. His face is a contradiction of emotions.

“Jisung!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling toward the edge. “Just like that, baby,” he groans, with a smirk on his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Ji… Jisung, I’m close.” you gasp, your hands pulling him closer. He speeds up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you.

"Cum when I tell you to, y/n. Just a little more." he moans, closing his eyes. "Ah! Little more, a little more, baby. Yeah... oh fuck." He whispers, slowing his pace to pull out of you completely and thrust back in quickly.

He can feel himself getting closer and he starts to move faster. His thrusts become more frantic, more crazed, and you can’t hold back any longer. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure is too overwhelming. You cry out, arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut tight as your body tenses and the orgasm hits. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure floods through your veins leaving you breathless, shaking.

"Ji, Ji I'm cumming!" you gasp, your hands gripping him hard feeling him batter your cervix with the head of his cock.

Jisung’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Yeah, cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck!"

Your walls clench around him, milking his cock as he continues to pound into you. With a loud moan, you fall apart. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you feeling utterly and thoroughly fucked and incapacitated.

"Fuck, I'm cumming, y/n! I'm cumming-Ah!" he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

He thrusts a few more times before he cums, spilling into you as he moans your name. The feeling of his warmth filling you is almost too much and it prolongs your orgasm, leaving you trembling and spent beneath him.

For a few seconds you both don't move, panting hard as your breathing slowly returns to its regular pace but as the high of the orgasm fades, reality crashes down like a tidal wave. Jisung pulls out of you quickly, his face full of panic and regret.

"What the fuck did we do?" he mutters, more to himself than to you. His hands shake as he runs them through his hair, over and over, looking like he's on the verge of a breakdown.

“What did I do? I'm dreaming... yeah. I gotta be,” he screams internally. But the warmth of your pussy around him, still lingers, insisting otherwise. He glances down, seeing his cock slick and creamy with your cum, more undeniable evidence of what just happened. This wasn’t a weed-induced wet dream; he’s done the unthinkable— he's fucked his best friend's girlfriend.

You sit up and reach out to comfort him, but he flinches away from your touch, the gesture cutting you like a knife. "I don’t regret it," you whisper, your voice trembling but sincere. But the look on his face is clear; he does.

"We can’t do this again," Jisung says, his voice firm but soft. "No matter how amazing it felt, we can’t. I... I can't betray Danny like that again, jagi. Fuck, y/n. I'm sorry."

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help it; you lean in and your lips meet his. For a sweet, blissful second, Jisung kisses you back. You could blame your actions on the weed but you know you're more aware when you're high than when you're drunk. Jisung breaks the kiss and covers his mouth with his hands, glancing over at his sleeping friend.

“This is wrong, y/n. So, so fucking wrong,” he whispers, his voice filled with pain. “I've known Danny since we were in diapers. What happened... It was a mistake. We can't…”

His face is full of pain and confusion, tears threatening to spill over. You want to reach out, to comfort him, but he doesn't even want you near him let alone touch him now. That realization shatters you. Your own eyes sting with the threat of tears and you turn away, quickly gathering your clothes to hide your face.

You nod, fighting back tears as you get dressed. The lingering taste of weed on your tongue now tastes like ash and guilt gnaws at your insides at seeing Jisung so conflicted. He watches you, his silence heavy with all the words he wishes he could say. He wants to stop you, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the tears that threaten to fall but he knows he can't. You're Danny's girlfriend even if he doesn't deserve you. Jisung's already fucked up once, he can't again no matter what his heart is telling him.

Your hands are trembling while you fumble to pull on your pants, wishing there was something you could say to make things better. The silence is deafening, broken only by your shaky breathing and Danny's soft snoring. You gather your textbooks and notes, desperately trying to hold yourself together, to not break down before you can make out the door. Jisung lets you go, his heart breaking with every step you take. Inside, he's screaming for you to stay, but he doesn’t move. He just lets you go because he knows that it’s for the best.

"I'm sorry, Ji." you say, your voice cracking. "I’m so sorry..."

Your voice sounds broken and It's barely audible, but it feels like a scream in the silence. When your hand turns the knob, the tears finally spill over and you rush through the open door. The door closes behind you with a finality that feels like a knife to the heart.

Jisung stares blankly at the door as it shuts, the lingering scent of sex and weed hanging in the air. The bitter taste of disloyalty and heartache, like poison, is bitter on his tongue. He collapses onto the floor after pulling up his shorts and buries his face in his hands. The room feels emptier than ever and Danny's sleeping presence is a constant reminder of the betrayal, making him want to throw up.

"Y/N... what the fuck have we done?" he whispers to himself, his voice breaking with a choking sob, wondering if you two will ever get through this without being burned even more.

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★

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#han jisung #han jisung smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x you #han jisung drabbles #han jisung fanfic #han jisung imagines #han x reader #han smut #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung oneshot #han jisung x reader #stray kids x reader

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miserable-sarah · 8 months ago

Text

Caught 18+

Pairings: Sam X Reader Warnings: smut, NSFW, cursing, oral (F), dirty talk Requested: hii!! i have a request for Sam, so like maybe dean goes to the store or sm and sam and yn get things a lot steamy and they go to sam’s room (they’re dating) and like when dean gets back he enters sam’s room without knocking and he walks in on them?? i feel like it would be so funny😭, thank u💞💞

"Finally!" You sigh dramatically "home" You sink into the couch, your body is so sore from the hunt and the car ride back to the bunker. Sam blops down next to you, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer into him.

"How are you feeling?" He asks you quietly. You both watch Dean pace around the bunker, he's definitely looking for something but can't find it.

"I feel better, still a little sore." you tell Sam. Sam's hand lightly rubs your shoulder up and down. "What do you think he's looking for?"

"I honestly have no idea" you and Sam still watch as Dean continues his search. You groan as you move to get more comfortable. "Maybe you should get a hot shower." He says kissing the top of your head.

"Yeah, I think I will." Sam helps you get off the couch. "Go help your brother." You say giving him a quick kiss. Just as you were about to walk away, Sam pulls your arm and brings you back to him. He kisses you deeper with meaning. Sam pulls away and smirks at you.

"You're naughty." You jokingly say.

You let the hot water hit your body, your muscles seem to be more relaxed. Sam was right this was a good idea. The last hunt wasn't anything crazy, nothing you couldn't handle it's just really rough on the body. Plus being in the car for hours doesn't help. You just needed to stretch and shower. You hear a faint knock on the door bringing you back to reality. You hear the bathroom door open and close.

"Sam?" You ask waiting for him to answer. Sam doesn't say anything instead he opens the curtain and hops in. "Sam!" you squeal, you try to cover your body but it doesn't work well.

"I'm just here to help." He smiles at you sweetly.

"Help?" You ask confused. Sam moves in closer, his body touching yours. You can feel your breathing change and your body heat up.

"You're so tense. I just want to help you relax."

"O-Okay" You stutter. Sam quickly presses you against the shower wall. His lips are attacking yours. Your hands are roaming around his body, it's familiar territory but it still surprises you every time. He still gets you so nervous and flustered. His hands hold your waist in place, he kisses and sucks on your neck. You let out a moan, a little one. It was loud enough for him to hear though. Sam presses his body against yours letting you feel him. That alone made you moan louder. You love his body, his warmth, you love how he feels and how he makes you feel.

"Sam" You moan softly.

"Yes baby?" He says softly still nibbling at your skin.

"Please touch me." You can feel his smirk on your neck. Sam was big into begging, he loved to hear you beg for him. His hand slowly traveled down your side to your thigh, he squeezed it softly before lifting it up. Sam pulled back from your neck and chest, his eyes burning into yours.

"Are you sure?" Sam asks, inching his hand closer and closer to your heat.

"Y-yes, please" you whisper. Just as he's about to touch you he stops.

"I've got a better idea." He says smirking at you. He kisses down your chest to your breasts, he kisses and nibbles at both of them for a short while. He continues to sink down to his knees, and kiss down your stomach. He lifts your leg over his shoulder, you feel him place a soft kiss on both of your thighs. You moan in excitement. Sam wastes no time, he licks and sucks on your clit. You let out a whimper, you needed this kind of release and you didn't even know it. You close your eyes and let your head hit the shower wall. You keep your moans quiet, well you try to but it's hard.

"Sam" You moan, he doesn't stop he just goes faster. His hand moves to help hold you up. You feel Sam enter 2 fingers in you. "Oh my-" You squeeze your eyes shut. Your breathing is uneven as his fingers pump in and out of you hitting your g-spot every time. He is so talented.

"You taste so good." Sam says looking up at you. You squirm around as his fingers still work inside you. "Let me see those pretty eyes baby."

You look down at Sam, he looks beautiful in between your legs all wet from the shower. The sight alone could finish you. "That's better" Sam says before going back. He adds another finger and his tongue licks all around. You can't handle the pleasure. Your moans are getting louder as you watch him, his face is focused on what he's doing, his muscles are flexing from the work he's putting in, his body is soaking wet, and his grunts and groans are turning you on even more.

You can feel your legs shaking, you know you're close. "Sam I'm gonna cum." You whimper/moan. You can barely speak at this point, you can only make noises. Sam helps you get there, his fingers pounding in you deeper still hitting your g-spot, he pulls his fingers out and his hand steadys you. Your whole body is trembling as he sucks and licks on your clit. You're so close you know you're going to cum any second.

Sam stops. Your mouth drops. "Sam!" You say louder than expected.

Sam stands up towering over you. His body pressed against yours you almost forget what just happened. "Jump" He whispers in your ear. You listen of course and he catches you, he steps out of the shower and goes to open the door.

"What about Dean?!" you ask quickly trying to stop him

"He's not here." He kisses you passionately opening the door and carrying you to his room. Sam places you down on his bed and hovers over you. "You're so beautiful." He kisses you softly. You shyly smile at him. He's so sweet when he wants to be.

You push Sam down beside you and climb on top. "Don't you think I should take care of you?" You smirk at him.

"No, this is all about you, and you relaxing." He says before fipping you over again, you can't help but giggle. Sam spreads your legs open and places one on top of his shoulder, again. You shudder when you feel his hard cock at your entrance.

"Please, fuck me." You say without realizing what you said, you just want him so bad.

"I can do that." Sam slowly slides inside you, you let out a moan.

"You feel so good." You say arching your back. Sam's hands grab at your waist holding you down. You move a lot and he knows that.

"Fuck." He hisses. He loves the way you stretch around him, he always has. Sam keeps a good pace, he of course hits your g-spot every time he thrusts in you. "You're so good baby, so wet for me." His grip on your hips gets harder, his thrusts get deeper and harder.

"So full." Is all you can get out, you try to say other things but you can't it just comes out as different moans. Sam is making you go dumb, like always. Sam leans down and places his head on your shoulder. You place your hand in his hair pulling on it. He can hear your quiet whimpers, it's egging him on to contuine fucking you this way.

"You're close, huh baby?" Sam asks,he can feel you squeezing his cock. You shake your head yes. You pull Sam into a kiss, you wanted to try to control your moans and he's so kissable. "Look at me baby." He says pulling away, you don't break eye contact with him. "I love watching you cum for me, you're so pretty when you're coming undone for me." His thrusts are becoming even faster and harder.

"Sam!" Is all you can say, you can feel your whole body trembling, your legs shaking, you can't help but close your eyes, all you can see are stars, you couldn't make a sound.

"Damn baby, you're squeezing me so tight." Sam says as he continues to pound you, his words mean nothing to you because you can't comprehend anything.

When you come back to Earth, you can tell Sam is tired and so close. "Lay down baby." you say to him "Let me take care of you." You kiss his arms softly. Sam listens and lays down on his back, with shakey legs you crawl on top of him. You waste no time, you slowly sink down on him causing him to groan. You slowly move your hips, Sam places his hands on your hips trying to guide you, he's being impatient. You start to bounce up and down, once you have a good rhythm Sam places his hands all over your body cupping your breasts, and your ass. Your moans are getting him even closer, you can feel him twitch inside you.

"Cum inside me baby." You say bouncing faster, you take his hands and place them on your breasts, "Cum for me." You moan. You hear Sam moan loudly and feel him fill you up. You still slowly bounce on him trying to help him ride his high.

"Hey, I'm back and I got this-"

"Oh my god!" You scream as you look at the open door and Dean standing there.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" He yells confused. Sam pushes you down on top of him and covers you up.

"Dude! Get out!" Sam yells, Dean snaps back and closes the door.

"Oh my god" You hide your face in his chest.

"It's okay, he didn't see anything." Sam kisses the top of your head with a chuckle. You look at Sam and just laugh.

"Why didn't he knock?" You laugh again.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural sam #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester love #sam winchester gif #sam winchester dark #supernatural gif

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moonsaver · 8 months ago

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hi!! i just wanted to say that the way that you write yandere characters is very unique and frankly amazing. like i love the fact that you don't make them overly violent like other people have and i also like how you have written the mc.

can i make a request of nsfw headcannons with yan!aventurine with female reader? thank you so much. have a great day!!!

Hello anon! Thank you for the feedback. Sorry i delayed your request so much, haha.

– fem-bodied reader, but mainly referred to as "you", no pronouns.

Nsfw below the cut!

Honestly? Yan!Aventurine is so damn pathetic. He's so used to feeling unwanted and repulsed by, so he's constantly begging on his knees for your affection. It starts out as a facade of confidence, but when you keep denying and shifting away from him, it snaps something, and he's on his knees, needy and desperate compromises, offering to do whatever you want – you want him to dom you? Tie you down and fuck you mindless? He'll do it! You want him to sub? He'll take it! You can fuck him silly and pull his hair back as harshly as you want, just please let him touch you and be touched by you.

Practically, it's absolute desperate sex

If you're still hesitant, and keep refusing him, keep telling him you don't want to do it, he'll just take it into his own hands

You definitely aren't disgusted by him, right? Definitely not! No, no, he can't allow that. You just have a hard time choosing! It's okay, it's alright! He understands! His own needy and desperate begging soon drowns out your own pleading for him to stop, and he thinks maybe he should just fuck you and let you know just how good he can make you feel. Both of your cries turn into moaning into each other's mouths, sooner or later.

Fingering? It's almost his favourite thing to do. He goes so mercilessly fast, his fingers plunging deep into your sopping wet cunt. If it's not wet enough or he hasn't done any foreplay, it's alright! He'll spit on it, and coat his fingers with his saliva. Stop squirming! He's taking such good care of you! Makes you squirt and cum so hard, but your desperate, incoherent babbling makes him think he's not done just enough, and keeps scissoring your swollen cunt all nice and deep, rubbing your clit, his eyes obsessively scanning the weak twitching and arching of your body, an almost psychotic and delusional smile on his face as he watches your body reach it's nth climax, curling his fingers in just the right spot, your face contorting into such a pretty expression, just as he wanted it to happen. Finally, he asks you if it was enough, licking your slick off of his fingers while looking into your eyes. He can always please you more, you know?

Penetration is almost similar to fingering. Or it's the complete opposite. The junction of that decision mainly happens when his tip is inside of you, and he's asking you all sorts of things, describing the things he wants to do to you in detail, rubbing your swollen tits so nicely, until you writhe under him. Oh? Sorry, he can't let you go! You probably don't want to, you just dont know how good he can fuck you! And he does just that.

If you're not so fucked out until you cant think, he goes fast and hard, loud slapping noises bounce off the walls, his dick hits you g-spot so hard and nice it makes you see stars. His smile is so wide and cocky when he sees your dazed expression, and he only goes faster, moaning and whining into your ear, telling you just how good you're taking him, that he'll take such good care of you, he loves you so so much and, his own whining and talking is interrupted by a loud moan, as his cum shoots into you, hot and sloshing into your cunt. He relaxes for a bit, whining more into your ear before his hasty and sloppy pace picks up, hitting you hard and fast all over again, relishing the feeling of his cum mix with your slick and drip down onto the bed.

If you're already dazed and overstimulated, he's very loving. Cooing softly at you as he fucks you all nice and slow, dragging his throbbing length against your gummy walls, telling you how lucky he is to have you, asking you desperately what you want, want him to go faster? Slower? Do you like it? Why aren't you answering? Oh well, he guesses he just has to fuck you better. Keeps going slow until your climax is absolutely on the edge of crashing down on you, and then rams himself into you, moaning like a bitch into your ear when he cums inside of you

Absolute oral fixation. If he doesn't force your first time in bed with him into fingering you, it's eating you out like he's drunk on your slick.

Desperately begs into your ear to let him taste you, asks you to suffocate him, ride him or just use him, just please let him taste your sweet cum on his tongue! He begs and begs until he just can't take it and pushes you to the nearest cushioned surface, rips off whatever clothing you have and absolutely devours you. Sucks on your clit desperately and moans when you squirm and pull on his hair to try and get him off of you. Fingers roughly and sloppily plunge into you, his tongue desperately circling your swollen bud, and once he's drawn enough slick from your pussy, replaces his fingers with his tongue and almost buries his face into it. Makes you squirt and cum so hard on his face, and likes it even more when you make a mess. Looks up at you with needy, love-struck eyes, slick dripping down his chin as he asks you if you enjoyed it. If you don't respond, or are too busy catching your breath, he just dives back in and makes you cum even more on his face.

---

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squoxle · 1 month ago

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I saw your recent mtl and it got me thinking 🤔 who do you think is in Enhypen would want a clingy gf (like cuddles, PDA, and the freaky stuff yk) ?????🤭

[1] CRAZY OVER YOU, BABY ~ enhypen ot7

DISCLAIMER: this is just for fun, so if it doesn't fit you, don't take it personal :)

word count: not long enough to matter :/

♡ Now Playing: Moonstruck - Enhypen ♡ 01:32 ━━━━●───── 02:38 ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Lee Heeseung

🎀 -> I typically see Hee as the type to want a clingy girlfriend who loves snuggling up next to him in bed all day. Probably watching something together, whether that be a movie or him playing a game. Try not to get too close though, he’ll likely end up getting rock-hard just looking at your precious smile.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Jay Park

🎀 -> I think we can all agree on the strong daddy vibes Jay gives off. He is the ultimate dom with the sweetest heart. He’d probably like a girlfriend who’s a foodie. Whether you take the role of designated taste tester or co-chef, love would definitely be a not-so-secret ingredient in all of your recipes

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Sim Jake

🎀 -> This playful puppy would love a clingy girlfriend who goes everywhere with him. Due to his adventurous nature I see you and him spending time together doing a variety of activities, both indoors and outdoors. Around you he feels comfortable to be his normal silly self, jumping at any chance to make you laugh. Even if his jokes are corny as hell.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Park Sunghoon

🎀 -> In typical Sunghoon fashion, a clingy girlfriend is EXACTLY what he wants. His jealous and possessive nature hates to see any man flirt with you. I could see you two together in public and when a random guy tries to hit on you, you reflect his response on what your boyfriend says about you. Your world revolves around him and he loves that about you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Kim Sunoo

🎀 -> I feel like a clingy girlfriend who loves everything he loves would be the perfect match for Sunoo. I could see the two of you being so close that you are sometimes mistaken for friends. I feel like Sunoo's interest in beauty, would lead to many couple-coordinated outfits. Whether that be a matching color scheme or an eye-catching theme, Sunoo would love to grace the world with his twin flame by his side.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Yang Jungwon

🎀 -> You should already expect this busybody to need a clingy girlfriend who accompanies him when he’s busy. You could definitely help things get completed faster as the two of you work together. I can see you surprising him on his lunch break with his favorite food and a quickie.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Nishimura Riki

🎀 ->Oh, Niki...I'm sure no one is surprised to see Niki as the jealous type. Much like Sunghoon, Niki's skin crawls at the sight of another guy flirting with you. I mean he might let a few catcalls slide, but once he's had enough, one throat-splitting stare will shake that walking creep will end that nonsense. PDA isn't really Niki's thing, he prefers to keep it private.

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

@wildflowermooon

@heeseungshim

@ramyeonzprincess

@bangchans-gf5

@wand3rlustm3

@heeseunghee7

@norihoyeon

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @norihoyeon @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa @norihoyeon

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ebonyslasher · 1 year ago

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Spicy Alphabet: Black Noir

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Staring at you lovingly, he caresses your face. Your arm. Your stomach. Earving carries you to the bathroom for cleanup and carries you back when you're done.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Earving: Arms. They are toned perfectly. They look very good when he's wearing a T-shirt. He flexes them in front of the mirror like he's a bodybuilder lol

You: Stomach. Black noir is a sucker for a nice stomach. He will have his hands on your tummy in some type of way. Holding, rubbing, etc. Tummies are just adorable to him for some reason.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Doesn't care where he comes, he's just happy to be there! Although, it looks very nice on your skin….

He has an average amount of cum. For some reason, it always has a nice taste. Good for swallowing.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His cartoon animals had to give him a demonstration on how sex looked like and how it should feel. Although grateful, it was traumatizing to see that play out. And embarrassing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly. He's had a few sexual experiences with other people. It's pretty scattered. Black Noir is an expert in everything that he does. So, his stroke game is absolutely fire 🔥.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Earving can be silly if he's in the mood to be. He has pretended your nipples were joysticks a couple of times 😑.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ahhhh so tidy! He keeps his lower curls trimmed at all times. Unless he's been on a mission for a while.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a cartoon-style romantic. Seriously does everything you'd see in a show or movie. It's extremely romantic- often a bit overwhelming. But it's cute to witness. Earving likes holding your hand during sex. Everything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sometimes he will jack off, only when you aren't available. Black Noir would rather wait until he gets back to you. The orgasms hit harder.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Roleplay/cosplay, phone sex, abduction play, voyeurism, bondage, etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom or an abandoned building (abduction play)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Flirting, mainly. Watching you when you're alone; if you walk around nude, then he'll go a little crazy. Rubbing your own stomach is a turn on as well. Being silly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that seriously hurts you or him. Also, don't touch his head injury during sex. He's okay with it before or after. Also, no blindfolding him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Black noir prefers to give and he does it well. Your toes will definitely curl.

He doesn't care to receive. It's just that he prefers to be inside you than getting a BJ. But if you really want to, he will let you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on what you tell him you want. He's great at going slow and hard though.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a huge fan of quickies himself. Only if he's extremely horny and about to go on a mission will he consider one.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Somewhat, it depends on the activity. Earving will weigh out the pros and cons before making a decision.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Black noir is a supe, and a very strong one. His stamina is amazing. He can keep going until you say stop. He hasn't reached his limit before.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

At most, he'd own one toy, but he's good with his hand. For you, he will contribute to your collection. He loves watching you masturbate with them. And he likes using them on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Surprisingly, he can be a big tease. Earving wants to see your reaction to being teased. He thinks your faces are cute and frustrated sounds are sexy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Somewhat loud. He will moan and say your name. And give you praise.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He avoids wearing his suit when he's at home and he turns off his suit camera during any abduction plays. However, one time, he forgot to turn it off during one of your sessions. The next meeting he had a Vought featured them trying to sell the footage as an exclusive sex tape. He almost eviscerated everyone in that room.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8", moderate thickness. His dick is pretty looking actually

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate. He's very controlled. It's higher when you're around.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will stay up for a while after. Depending on what he needs to do, he may or may not sleep. But what he will do is kiss and hold you with love

#black noir #black noir x reader #the boys #spicy alphabet #grown folks business #x black reader

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thoughtsforsoob · 8 months ago

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txt - s/o who struggles with food

a/n: this going to be a very angsty work so please bear with me...i'm feeling very angsty these days. anyways, this hits a little close to home so I understand if you're not able to read this. please be kind to yourself. i'm always here to chat if you ever need anything. please enjoy.

warnings! I will be discussing ed's and food and everything within that realm so please read this at your own digression! (you're not alone. if you're going through something right now, please seek help. it can be hard but you've got this! I believe in you!)

Yeonjun

Yeonjun for sure takes a while to notice anything is ever happening. He just gets so busy with work that he forgets. Sometimes, he struggles to take care of himself for this reason so he can definitely understand the struggle of taking care of yourself enough. When he does find out, he does all he can to help you. He's really caring towards his partner.

By this point, Yeonjun hadn't seen in person for about 2 months. He was off on tour with the group. Of course, you two had facetime sessions when you two had a moment to spare but it still couldn't have prepared him for what he would face when he got home. The moment he arrived at the airport back home, he immediately asked to go back to your shared apartment. When he arrived, you met him at the door but the way you looked was very different. You appear thinner and it was quite obvious. Yeonjun tried not to make his reaction obvious but he couldn't help the way his eyes went wide when he laid eyes on you. You frown at him and after some talking, you spill about how you were so angry at yourself for the way you looked that you just kinda stopped eating right. Yeonjun makes it his mission to help you feel better and he helps you get back on track to eating enough like you did before.

Soobin

This section does mention making yourself vomit so please read with caution!

Soobin is also so good when it comes to comforting others. He gives the best hugs and always knows just what to say to help you feel better. when he finds out you're having trouble with your relationship with food, he is absolutely heartbroken. He hates the idea of you struggling with something that he feels should make you happy. He is always going to do whatever you need him to do so you can recover.

You and Soobin had been together for a few months now and everything was going really well. You both were very happy with one another and were getting along great. The only problem was that Soobin had no idea about your relationship with you. You would do your best to hide the fact that you were never able to get yourself to keep your food down. It made you feel so disgusted but Soobin had no idea. On this particular night, Soobin had come over to your apartment to eat dinner. You were usually able to run off after dinner under the guise that you needed to use the bathroom. Tonight, however, Soobin had become suspicious when you took longer than usual. He goes over to knock on the door but before he can even do that, he panics when he hears you crying and throwing up. He opens the door immediately and lets himself in. He looks really sad and even helps you clean up when you finally stop. You can;t help but open up to him when you see the pain in his face after watching you do this to yourself. He does his best to understand and help you get better, suggesting you talk to someone about this. He is really supporting you on your recovery journey.

Beomgyu

This one hits a little close to home 😕

he isn’t super observant about your eating habits but he definitely notices when the snacks start to kind of disappear from the pantry. And it wasn’t just them going like normal, they were going a lot faster than normal. You usually only go out shopping for snacks once a week but have been going every three days lately. It was worrying him. Not so much because he was worried you’d gain weight, not in the slightest. He was worried because he was thinking you were going through something and weren’t wanting to tell him.

When you get home from work one afternoon, you see him in the kitchen at the dinner table. You were so excited to see him since he was usually still at work during this time. He looked worried and he asked you to sit down, so you did. He didn’t beat around the bush and straight up told you about his observations. It made you feel angry at first. Why was he bringing this up? Did you gain weight? Was he calling you fat? But then he explained why he even brought it up and that he just wanted to help. You broke out into tears and told him all about what was going on in your life at the moment and how eating made you feel comfortable. He totally understood and offered to help you work through it in different ways since snacking wasn’t the best idea. You accept his help and it starts to feel better

Taehyun

How dare his pretty girl think she’s ugly? He just can’t fathom why you would starve yourself or even think that you’re not good enough for some reason. He always does his best to combat this by complimenting you as often as he can and making sure he keeps track of whether you’ve eaten or not. He knows it’s a little frustrating for you when he’s constantly asking you if you’ve eaten but it’s just before he cares and he doesn’t want you to get sick.

in this scenario…it was a few days until your wedding. you had been trying to hide it but you haven’t eaten much over the last week, causing you to feel weak. When the day finally came, you fainted as you were getting your hair done. Everyone in the room with you was panicking and they called taehyun to come help you wake up. He made sure to pick up some snacks from his dressing room and some water for you to drink. He had an itching feeling that you were starving yourself but didn’t want to accuse you of anything. When you wake up, he’s sitting over you with a worried look. “Oh dear. You’re awake. You had us all worried. I think I know why this happened though.” You had a guilty look on your face and he already knew what happened. He convinces you that you need to eat something now so you don’t feel weak on your guy's big day. He’s so proud watching you eat your snack and drink water and he makes his feelings known.

Huening Kai

He is very caring and sweet and always knows when something is wrong with his girl. He started to worry when it was Wednesday and he hadn't seen you eat or heard about anything you've eaten since Monday night. He knew it was only a day but he was so worried. He didn't want you to go without eating. luckily, he'd planned to hang out with you tonight after schedules! he picks up your favorite meal and drinks for you to eat when he arrives.

he gets there and knocks. when you open the door you hug him and give him a kiss hello but you kind of start to change in demeanor when you see the bags of food he had. you hadn't let yourself eat in the last two days and the sight of food was just too much for you at the moment. All you could think of when you tried to eat was being laughed at by a group of girls your age who were making comments of your weight when walking down the street. you finally break down and kai follows you, leaving the food at the table. He finally gets you to let him hold you, let him wipe away your tears. you tell him everything and he was so good at just listening. He coaxes you back to the table and even feeds you if it makes you feel more comforted.

#txt imagines #txt fluff #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt reactions #beomgyu x reader #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #huening kai x reader #taehyun x reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months ago

Text

Reader going from being Gojo's lover to being his worst enemy part l

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reder (18+)

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: You were always the perfect girlfriend for Satoru Gojo: innocent, quiet and weak. Until something inside you snapped. Until you decided you don't want to be weak anymore. Until you realized that Satoru Gojo isn't your lover, but your enemy...

Warnings: big ass tw for anyone who isn't into dark reader, smut in Geto's part (you will be warned in the fic), reader going absolutely crazy, cheating, language, violence, Gojo is a bit of a jerk in this, couldn't bring myself to proofread so excuse spelling mistakes

Notes: I know you guys wanted this in one part but honestly, I've been so depressed these last weeks that I simply wasn't able to write that much. I thought one part is better than nothing though and I hope I'll be able to post part ll within the next days 🤍 If you don't mind, let me know what you think, your support means so much!

“(y/n), are you alright?”

“There’s absolutely no reason to go this hard on her, jerk.”

You stare into the blue sky above, hating yourself for the way your eyes start to sting in tears, for how weak you are. No, not again. Don’t cry in front of all of them because of something so minor. But no, this isn’t something minor.

He beat you again.

“If you want to get better than rank 4, you have to try harder, babe”, your boyfriend jeers at you.

How many times did he say that already? You lost count a long time ago. It’s a miracle that you’re still alive, given the fact that Gojo Satoru seems to lose his patience with you more and more.

No wonder. After all, you are his girlfriend. How is it even possible for the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time to have a girl of rank 4? You’ve been stuck with your poor abilities since joining jujutsu high, only able to sneak into training because your parents are friends of the Gojo clan.

It shouldn’t surprise you. Your life has always been like this: useless and puny. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you train, you’ll never be as good as Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. You are nothing more than their shadow, doomed to watch them from the side-lines.

“Hey, are you alright, (y/n)? That looked pretty rough”, Suguru interferes gently while helping you to get up on your wobbly legs.

“You can at least say sorry, y’know? There was absolutely no reason to beat her this hard when she’s already down”, Shoko barks towards your boyfriend.

“Oh don’t worry babe, there isn’t enough space for two legends in this relationship anyway”, Satoru jokes while wrapping his arm around your clearly bruised shoulder tightly.

Even though all you want to do is cry and hide, you force a smile onto your lips. Yes, this is what you always do. Staying by his side, looking pretty and innocent while smiling kindly. Maybe this is your purpose in life, maybe this is everything you could ask for. Many girls are getting blue over the fact that Satoru is your boyfriend. You aren’t in the position to ask for more power, for the strength to stand up for yourself. So many people would kill for a life like yours.

You should be thankful.

Right?

…Right?

-the mission-

“I’m here to save you again, (y/n)! Hey, are you cryin’?”

You hate the way hot tears stream down your face, body too weak to fight against the debris that buried you.

“If I was crying, would you console me? I’d definitely like that”, you hear Mei Mei purr from the other side

“Oh you wouldn’t cry Mei. You’re strong.”

“Hey, how dare you to talk about (y/n) like that!?”, Utahime cries out.

Your mind goes blank, body sinking into the dirt.

“Oh, you wouldn’t cry Mei. You’re strong.”

Those words. Those oh so cruel words repeat themselves over and over in your mind. He surely didn’t mean it like that, didn’t wanted to hurt you. After all, Satoru just wants to look out for you, he’s always there to help you out. His words shouldn’t hit you with full force, you shouldn’t feel this burning inside your chest, your hands shouldn’t start trembling.

You let out the shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, eyes staring into distance. But they do and force a stinging feeling up from deep within along with one single thought.

You have enough.

Enough of smiling kindly all the time. Enough of letting others push you around and pick on you. Enough of even Satoru making fun of you. Enough of being nothing but his innocent girlfriend to the world. Enough of all the fighting, all the hiding.

For the first time in forever, you don’t force a smile onto your lips but furrow your eyebrows instead. You are…more than that.

“Don’t listen to that guy…”, you hear Utahime mumble next to you while she frees your body.

As if in trance, you follow her back up, the new feeling you just discovered tickling underneath your skin.

“She knows I didn’t mean it like that. Right baby?”

But instead of hearing the usual low “yes” coming from your lips immediately, you just stand there and stare at him before turning on your heels and leaving.

Satoru’s eyes widen. You. Leaving him standing in the rain?

“Did you hear me say something to you, babe?”, he shouts after you.

You don’t even hear him anymore, blood rushing through your ears. No more excuses, no more playing the victim, the lover. Your hands are still clenched into tight fist while you leave without turning your head.

That’s enough.

“I’m…more than that”, you mumble to yourself while staring at your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You just need to work even harder, train yourself even better, change your mindset. No, you aren’t only Satoru Gojo’s girlfriend. You are powerful as well, you can feel it tickling in your fingertips.

So you worked your ass off in silence. Trained when nobody was watching, read countless books, started to introduce you to yourself.

“Beat you again!”, Satoru announces proudly while you let him throw your body into the air.

But something inside you stops you from letting all that progress show on the surface. You force the usual small smile onto your lips, let your boyfriend treat you like the dirt underneath his shoes. Over and over, without anybody noticing that something has changed.

No, you aren’t the little (y/n) they all know anymore. You are so much better than that, so much stronger than what they see in you.

Your fingers dig into the sides of the sink until it bursts under your lilac touch. Fuck this whole jujutsu high, fuck the way they all smile down at you. Fuck the way Satoru sees you as nothing but his personal toy. A maniac grin creeps up your face, violent laughter shaking your body in the middle of the night while you stare into your own stone-cold eyes.

This ends right here and now. And you will show them when the time is right.

-next week-

Will surprise Suguru this evening for his birthday. Try not to get killed while I’m gone. Love ya <3

You huff to yourself, the arrogance dripping from your boyfriend’s text message almost unleash your powers in the middle of your dorm.

No, you need to get a hold of yourself at least a little longer. After all, a few more hours won’t hurt over the fact that you went through this for over 4 years by now.

But today, you will make Satoru Gojo pay for the countless times he made fun of you. Today, you will wipe that cheeky grin off his face. Oh, how much you long for the moment when reality hits him with full force, when he finds out what your capable of.

How will he react when he finds out that you, a grade 4 sorcerer, are able to use hollow purple before he does? How will he react when he finds out his girlfriend fucked his best friend before disappearing into thin air and becoming his worst enemy? You worked on this plan for so long, replayed it over and over in your head. But now it’s time. Today, you will make the whole jujutsu world pay for all the things they did to you.

With a satisfied grin, you pull the exquisite pair of stockings you just bought for this exact moment up your legs, looking at yourself in the mirror. Oh, those black dessous definitely suit you well. Perfect for seducing the best friend of your boyfriend.

You put a simple dress on and get going. Well, is it necessary to fuck with Suguru? Absolutely not. You could just disappear right here and now and continue your plan. But where would be the fun of it? Just the thought of seeing that look of horror on Satoru’s eyes when he realizes you aren’t the girl he knows anymore, him not only losing his girlfriend, but his best friend as well. He deserves a little pain for all the things he said to you, for the countless times he made you feel worthless.

Exactly 30 minutes left until Satoru will arrive at Suguru’s doorstep as well. 30 minutes to seduce your boyfriend’s best friend, 30 minutes that will change your life forever. Are you ready to let go of the sweet and innocent girl you were, the easy life you had in the eyes of others as Satoru’s girlfriend without any power?

“Hell yes”, you mumble to yourself, heart almost beating out of your chest while you knock against his door.

Geto was always a true sweetheart, the one who always stood up for you even against Satoru. His oh so charming smile, his inviting hands, his character made of pure gold. He really doesn’t deserve what comes next.

But power demands sacrifice and pain. Maybe he’ll understand.

As soon as he opens the door, you crumble in front of him and cry. Crocodile tears stream down your face in rivers, shaky hands covering your face.

“(y/n), what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you? Come on, get in!”

His hand is placed on your back and pushes you softy into the middle of the room. Instead of saying another word, he simply wraps his inviting arms around you.

“Satoru…”, you mumble.

You can clearly see the way his jaw tenses. It’s nothing new to Suguru to see you cry because of his best friend. Geto told him over and over to treat you better, to not be so rough, to look after you in a caring way. And even though he always admired how well you kept your composure, moments like this one happened once in a while.

Nothing noticeable, right?

You burry your head against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck. Oh, you never noticed how tight his muscles are, how trained he is underneath that wide uniform.

Time to take it off.

“I can’t take it anymore, Suguru”, you cry it.

Well, at least this isn’t a lie. Before he’s able to stop you, you press your lips against his. Suguru feels so different, tastes sweeter than Satoru with a hint of mint. Your hands cramp around his neck, force him to stay in place while he looks at you with his eyes widen.

“(y/n)…Please stop”, he breathes out.

Stopping? Why does he press his body against yours, then? Why do his lips start to move against yours in sync, his eyes slowly but surely fluttering shut? Suguru always held a special place for you in his heart.

And you’ll use this spark of weakness against him.

“I can’t”, you mutter against his lips while pushing him towards his bed.

He grabs your hips when you force him to sit down on his bed, dark eyes gazing up at you like in trance.

“We can’t…(y/n), this is wrong in so many ways, Satoru is my best friend-“

“I am your friend too”, you interrupt him, hand gliding up and down his chest.

“I heard it when you said that Satoru doesn’t deserve me.”

He lets out his breath, whole body tensed up like stone underneath your merciless touch. You let yourself glide onto his lap, let yourself fall onto his already rock-hard erection. No, there’s absolutely no doubt in the fact that Suguru wants you.

And that your plan will work.

“I always wanted you more. You were always so good to me, Suguru. Now let me be good to you”, you hush oh so innocent.

His eyes roll into his skull, a pained expression painted on his face while he fights for what seems like dear life underneath your merciless touch. Your words do things to him he’d never dare to speak out. Damn, Satoru is his best friend, you’ve been his girlfriend for over 4 years and right now, you’re sitting on his lap. Right now, he can’t help but imagine you underneath him while groaning his name into his ear with your sweet voice.

“Fuck”, he hisses through gritted teeth, arms pushing you harder against his pants.

Your hips start to move on their own, sensitive spot rubbing over and over against him until your wetness covers his clothes delicately, a low groan escaping his lips before he can stop himself.

Enough of that. Without thinking twice, you unzip his pants and push them down his muscular legs, heat radiating through your whole body. This is absolutely hot, so exciting that you almost come from the sheer thought of fucking Suguru. But what excites you even more is that Satoru might walk through this door every given minute in order to surprise his best friend…

“Suguru”, you moan into the thick air as soon as his fingertips brush over your clit.

“(y/n)”, he growls against your ear, head hidden against your neck.

“(y/n)…”

Your heart skips a beat, fingers digging deeper into Suguru’s skin. Yes, this is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment you’ve begged for. As if in slow motion, you turn your head around.

There he stands, bright blue orbs widen in horror while he stares at you and Suguru.

“Didn’t expect you here”, you lie, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Elegantly, you get up from Suguru’s lap and put your panties up.

“(y/n)…you….you fucked my best friend”, the white-haired boy breathes out.

“I need to make an announcement.”

His numb eyes dart towards you. You, the girl he loved for over four years. You, the cute and innocent (y/n) he was always proud of, the girlfriend literally any guy could ask for. You…you aren’t capable of something like that. You can’t even stand up for yourself and now…Now you’re fucking his best friend?

“See this as my first act of revenge for all those years you pushed me around like the dirt underneath your shoes, Gojo.”

The way you spit his last name at him almost sweeps him off his feet.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was always good to you and you…you just fucked my best friend”, he shouts, the numb undertone in his eyes changing into pure rage.

“Good to me? You treated me like a hamster, like your weak little pet. But let me tell you, I’m not that weak girl you taught me to be anymore.”

Roughly, you grab his wrist, light the whole room purple.

“(y/n)…”, you hear Suguru breathe out behind you.

“This can’t be true.”

Satoru’s free hand yanks towards your body, aims for control all over again. It has always been like this. Gojo, who thinks the world belongs exclusively to him. Gojo, who thinks he can treat you like a price. Gojo, who thinks you can’t live without him.

“Don’t you dare to touch me ever again”, you purr at him, escaping his grasp with ease while pushing him so hard that he stumbles backwards.

“You aren’t my boyfriend anymore. From now on, you are my enemy. And I’ll never let you forget about that, Gojo Satoru.”

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