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fangdokja · 2 months ago

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🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

❤︎ Synopsis. Caught in a web of lies, a spy's double life unravels when her mafia husband discovers her betrayal—turning their love into a merciless game of dominance, vengeance, and obsession. She was his wife, his possession, and now, his prisoner.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss x Fem. Reader

♡ Novella. The Enemy in His Bed - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 8,548

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, rape, blood play, forced oral, fear play, knife play, needle play, heavy bodily injury, slut shaming, objectification, psychological torment, actual torture methods, mature language, humiliation, degradation, forced orgasms, sadism, BDSM, groping, biting, bondage, nudity, fire play, gagging, physical assault and violence, choking / breath play

You are in a room that reeks of blood and mildew, the air so heavy it feels like it’s pressing down on your lungs. The faint hum of a fluorescent bulb flickering above casts the space in a sickly yellow light, illuminating the cold, concrete walls streaked with rust-colored stains. You’re tied to a chair—no, anchored. The ropes around your wrists and ankles are so tight you can feel the pulse of your blood struggling beneath them, the fibers cutting deep into your flesh. Your breathing is shallow, ragged, your chest rising and falling as if every breath might be your last.

He stands in front of you, a towering figure cloaked in shadow. His silhouette is broad and unyielding, the kind of presence that fills every corner of the room with an oppressive weight. This man—the man who used to call you lyubov moya—is no longer the husband you once knew. The ruthless Russian mafia boss whose name is whispered like a curse. His eyes, dark as pitch, are fixed on you with a predator’s focus, glinting with something primal, something vile. He’s not here to forgive. He’s here to destroy.

“Do you feel it?” His voice is low, gravelly, but it carries the force of an earthquake. He steps closer, the sound of his boots hitting the floor like a countdown. “That crawling under your skin? That’s fear. That’s regret. And yet, you still sit there,” he hisses, his tone sharp enough to flay skin, “with that fucking look in your eyes.”

His hand shoots out, grabbing your chin with bruising force. His thumb digs into the soft flesh just below your cheekbone, forcing your face upward. The light catches his features, and for a moment, you see the rage carved into every hard line of his face. But it’s his eyes that terrify you most. They’re dead things, black holes where love once flickered.

“You betrayed me,” he snarls, the words laced with venom. His grip tightens, and you hear the faint crackle of cartilage in your jaw. “My wife. My fucking wife. And all this time, you were a spy. An actress in my bed, a liar in my world.” He releases you with a violent shove, and your head snaps back, the base of your skull colliding with the chair’s hard frame. Pain blooms, hot and electric, as blood trickles from your nose, the metallic tang filling your mouth.

The room is silent except for the sound of his breathing, heavy and deliberate, like a beast stalking its prey. He circles you now, each step echoing like the tolling of a bell. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he asks, his voice quieter but infinitely more dangerous. He crouches down beside you, the leather of his gloves creaking as he pulls a blade from his belt. It’s thin, surgical, the kind of tool meant for precision rather than brute force. “Did you think I wouldn’t break you?”

The blade glides along your collarbone, its edge so sharp it almost feels cold. He presses just enough for the skin to part, a shallow cut that wells with blood and sends a sharp sting radiating through your nerves. “This is just the beginning,” he whispers, his lips so close to your ear you can feel the heat of his breath. “You don’t get to die yet. Not until I’ve carved every secret out of you. Not until you understand what betrayal costs.”

Your pulse is erratic, hammering in your chest as he stands again, looming over you like some ancient lord of vengeance. His fist connects with your cheek, and the world spins, your vision blurring as pain explodes across your face. Blood spatters across the floor in a violent arc, warm and sticky as it drips from the corner of your mouth.

“Where’s your defiance now?” he growls, his voice shaking with fury. He grabs a fistful of your hair, wrenching your head back so your gaze meets his. “You want to look brave, milaya, but I know better. I can see it in your eyes. You’re already breaking.”

His lips curl into a cruel smile as he lets go, letting your head drop forward. The room seems to tilt, the edges of your vision darkening, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of your surrender. Not yet. Not while there’s still air in your lungs.

But he’s not done. He won’t be until every inch of you is stripped raw, every nerve exposed and screaming. He reaches for a switch on the wall, and with a flick, the room is bathed in red light. It casts his shadow on the walls, grotesque and distorted, like a demon looming over the damned.

────────────

The door creaks open, and a figure, one of his subordinates, enters the room, dragging a metal tray laden with an assortment of cruel instruments. Your heart races as the cold steel glints under the flickering lights, each tool designed for a specific kind of torment.

The Russian mafia boss nods curtly, his eyes never leaving yours as the man sets the tray down with a clatter. "You're going to tell me everything," he says, his voice low and deadly.

"And then, I'm going to show you what it means to betray the one who gave you everything." He leans in, his hot breath on your neck, his grip on your chin painful.

"But first, I want you to remember what you used to be to me," he murmurs, the words a dark caress that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hand travels down, cupping your bruised cheek before sliding down to grasp your throat. You swallow hard, the fear rising like bile in your throat, but you refuse to show it. He squeezes, the pressure increasing until your eyes water, but you don't make a sound, not even a whimper.

His eyes narrow in frustration before he releases you, the hand moving to grip your jaw instead, forcing your mouth open.

With a sneer, he brings his face closer, his stubble scraping against your skin as he whispers, "You were once my sweet little bird, singing only for me. Now, you're a caged whore for the highest bidder." He slams his mouth down on yours, his kiss bruising and possessive.

You taste the rage and desperation in him, and for a fleeting moment, you feel a pang of pity.

But it's quickly replaced with a fiery resolve to survive, to somehow escape his clutches.

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, and you bite down, hard. He pulls back with a growl of annoyance, but instead of releasing you, he laughs, a dark, chilling sound. "Good girl," he says, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

"You still have some fight left in you." His eyes scan the tray, and he selects a pair of pliers. "Let's see how much you can take."

He reaches for your shirt, his fingers deftly unbuttoning it despite your struggling. The fabric tears away from your body, exposing your bruised and bound breasts. He squeezes them, watching the pain flicker in your eyes with a twisted pleasure. "These used to be mine," he says, his voice filled with a sadistic glee. He leans in again, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "But now, I'll make sure no one else ever touches them again."

The air in the dimly lit room reeked of sweat and copper, a metallic tang that coated your tongue as you gasped for breath. His shadow loomed large, an oppressive specter that seemed to drink in your pain. The pliers in his hand gleamed under the flickering light—a surgeon’s precision wrapped in a sadist’s grip.

His voice slithered through the silence, low and venomous. “Tell me,” he hissed, his words thick with cruelty, “whose touch you’ve dared to crave besides mine.”

Your chest rose and fell, trembling under his gaze. You held your tongue, the taste of defiance as bitter as bile. His jaw tightened. Then, without hesitation, he snapped the cold steel jaws of the pliers onto your right nipple.

The first twist came like lightning, sharp and blinding, a searing current that jolted through your body. The delicate tissues twisted under the unyielding bite of the metal, the nerve endings igniting like fireworks. You clenched your teeth so hard your jaw ached, your scream lodged in your throat like a jagged stone.

He leaned in closer, his breath an unwanted warmth against your cheek. “Still stubborn, aren’t we?” he murmured, his tone laced with mockery and dark amusement. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

The second twist was slower, deliberate—a calculated cruelty that made your skin crawl. He pulled, the pliers dragging the sensitive flesh in directions it was never meant to go. You could feel the tissue straining, tearing, fibers unraveling like the threads of a fragile tapestry.

Your vision swam, black spots blooming like ink blots against the edges of your sight. He laughed softly, the sound of a predator savoring its kill. “Beautiful,” he said, almost reverent. “Even in pain, you’re mine. Always mine.”

The climax of his sadistic art came with a grotesque pop, the sound of tissue surrendering to force. The pain was an inferno, all-consuming, burning through every nerve as he wrenched the nipple free from your body. Warm blood spilled in rivulets, pooling on the filthy floor beneath you. The ruined flesh hung like a torn petal before he carelessly tossed it aside, letting it hit the ground with a wet slap.

He stepped back, his gaze fixed on your bloodied chest—a grotesque canvas of raw meat and trembling sinew. The shredded skin wept crimson tears, each droplet sliding down to trace the curve of your ribs. The room tilted; your body screamed for reprieve, but there was none to be had.

“You’re breathtaking like this,” he said softly, running a gloved hand over your mutilated breast. His touch was clinical, detached, as if admiring the precision of his own handiwork. “But we’re far from finished.”

The metal tray clattered as he reached for his next tool—a scalpel, gleaming with sterile menace. But before he could wield it, he paused, considering. With a dark smile, he reached instead for the salt.

The coarse grains glittered like tiny shards of glass as he grabbed a fistful. “Let’s ensure you remember this moment,” he whispered, and then he scattered the salt into the gaping wound.

It was as if the salt detonated on contact, each granule a fresh explosion of agony. Your body bucked involuntarily, the ropes digging into your wrists as you thrashed against your bindings. The scream that tore from your throat was raw and primal, reverberating off the walls like a wounded animal’s last cry.

His smile widened, a cruel crescent etched into his face. “Much better,” he said, almost soothingly. “Now we’re making progress.”

The pliers returned, their jaws still slick with blood as they moved to your remaining nipple. This time, you could see the shadow of his intent, the cold malice in his eyes as he clamped down. The pain came like a tidal wave, drowning you in its depths as he twisted, pulled, and twisted again.

The nipple tore loose with a sickening crunch, cartilage snapping, blood spurting in a violent arc. Your chest was no longer your own—it was a ravaged landscape of gore, a grotesque testament to his control. The raw, exposed tissue oozed and quivered, a mockery of what it once was.

He stepped back, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes drinking in the destruction he’d wrought. “You’re exquisite when you break,” he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. “But don’t worry, little wife. There’s so much more of you left to ruin.”

You hung limp in the chair, your body trembling, every nerve ablaze. Your silence persisted, but his words lingered, curling around you like smoke, a promise of horrors yet to come.

────────────

The mafia boss steps back, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes never leaving the destruction he's wrought upon your body. His hand reaches down to adjust his crotch, where a noticeable bulge has formed.

He's enjoying this, the sadist, getting off on your suffering.

"You're going to scream for me," he says, his voice low and filled with a primal hunger. "You're going to beg for me to stop. And when you do, I'll make sure you never forget who you belong to."

He moves to stand in front of you, his pants tenting obscenely. He unbuckles his belt, the leather making a harsh sound as it's pulled from the loops, the anticipation in the air thick and suffocating. He unbuttons his pants, and his cock springs free, hard and angry. He strokes it, the motion taunting you, a silent challenge to see how much more you can endure.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice a whip crack that slices through the pain.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction, keeping your eyes cast down, focusing on the puddle of blood forming around your chair.

He grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Look at what you've done to me," he snarls. "You've turned me into a monster."

He steps closer, pressing his cock against your bruised and bleeding chest, the heat from his arousal a stark contrast to the cold steel of the pliers still digging into your skin. He grinds against you, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

"You're going to take this," he says, his voice a mix of anger and lust. "You're going to take every inch of me until you remember who you are."

With a brutal yank, he twists the pliers on your nipples even more so, and you feel your body convulse in a silent scream.

He takes the opportunity to force himself inside your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. "Suck it," he orders, his hand fisted in your hair, pushing your face closer to his crotch.

With a burst of defiance, you clamp down on his cock with your teeth, biting as hard as you can, feeling the warm flesh between your teeth, the taste of his pre-cum mixing with the coppery tang of your own blood.

He roars in a mix of pain and pleasure, his grip on your hair tightening as he thrusts deeper into your mouth.

The mafia boss’s eyes widen in shock, but the arousal in them doesn't waver. Instead, it seems to intensify, his pupils dilating with a dark excitement.

"Fuck, you little bitch," he growls, his voice a mix of anger and desire. "You're going to regret that." His hand moves from your hair to the back of your head, pushing down harder, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a sickening rhythm.

You refuse to give in, biting down again, the pain in your breasts and the metallic taste of blood only fueling your resolve to fight back.

He responds by slamming your head into the chair, stars exploding across your vision, but you don't let go. The pain radiates through your skull, but you hold on, biting even harder.

The Russian's hand trembles with a mix of rage and arousal as he pours an unmerciful amount of salt into the gaping wounds on your chest.

The agony is instant and overwhelming, your body arching off the chair as the salt sears into your flesh, setting every nerve ending alight with pain.

The scream that rips from your throat is muffled by his thick cock, still lodged in your mouth. His grip on the back of your head tightens even more, his hips jerking as your teeth graze his shaft, the scream vibrating along his length.

He watches your face contort in torment, his own expression a twisted blend of love and hatred. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Scream for me."

He pours more salt, the grains falling like a sadistic rain upon your ravaged breasts. Your teeth clench around his cock as you fight back the urge to pass out from the pain. Your eyes squeeze shut, and tears stream down your face, mixing with the blood and saliva that coats your chin. He seems to revel in your suffering, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breaths more ragged.

The henchman, his eyes wide and slightly horrified, watches from the corner, unsure of what to do. The Russian mafia boss, noticing his employee's discomfort, turns to him with a wicked smile. "You want a taste?" he asks, his voice a dark promise.

The man shakes his head, unable to tear his gaze away from the macabre scene unfolding before him. The mafia boss laughs, a low, chilling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Then get the fuck out," he snaps. "I'll handle this one."

The henchman nods hastily, retreating from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

You're alone with the monster you once called your husband.

The salt has stopped falling, but the pain remains, a constant reminder of your betrayal and his wrath.

He pulls back a bit, panting heavily, his cock still hard and slick with your saliva. He looks at your destroyed breasts with a twisted kind of fascination, the blood and salt creating a gruesome tableau. "You're so beautiful when you scream," he murmurs, his voice almost tender.

His hand reaches out to trace the edge of one of the wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle amidst the chaos.

You flinch away, the slightest of movements, but it's enough to snap him out of his daze.

The mafia boss’s hand clamps down on the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him again. His eyes are dark with lust and anger, a storm brewing in their depths. "You're going to pay for every lie," he says, his voice a promise of unspeakable torment.

He then pulls his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, the sound echoing through the room. You gasp for air, your throat raw from his rough treatment. He steps back, his gaze traveling down your body, taking in every bruise and tear. "But not before I make you feel everything I felt when I found out you were whoring around."

He grabs you by the hair, yanking you to your feet, the ropes around your ankles making you stumble. He pulls you to the tray of instruments, his eyes lingering on a long, thin knife.

The blade glitters in the light, a silent threat of the pain to come. He picks it up, his hand steady, his movements deliberate. "You're going to tell me who else has had you," he says, the knife hovering just above your skin. "Every name, every touch, every time you spread your legs for someone who wasn't me."

His grip tightens, his thumb tracing a line along your jaw. "And for every lie, I'll make sure you feel it here," he says, pressing the knife against your throat, the cold steel a stark reminder of the power he holds over you.

You stand before him, your body shaking with pain and fear, but you refuse to speak.

The Russian's eyes narrow, and he presses the knife harder, a thin line of blood welling up. "Tell me," he demands, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

But you remain silent, your teeth clenched, your eyes locked on his.

He sighs, a sound filled with disappointment and resentment. "Very well," he says, moving the knife to your chest.

He slices through your shredded shirt, the fabric giving way easily to reveal your bruised and bloodied skin. "If you won't tell me willingly, I'll make you confess."

He starts to cut, the blade digging into your flesh, tracing patterns of agony across your stomach and ribs. You bite your lip, the pain a living entity consuming you, but you refuse to break.

He pauses, looking up at you with a mix of admiration and anger. "You're so stubborn," he murmurs, almost to himself. "I used to love that about you."

His hand moves lower, the knife grazing your navel, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You can feel your body responding despite the pain, a traitorous arousal building within you. He notices and smirks, the knife moving lower, hovering just above the fabric of your pants. "But now, it's just another reason to make you suffer."

With a quick movement, he slices through the fabric, exposing your nakedness to the cold room. He traces the edge of the knife along the line of your underwear, the threat of what's to come clear in his eyes. "You're going to tell me," he says, his voice a seductive whisper. "Or I'll start peeling you like a damn orange."

You force yourself to remain still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

He leans in, his breath hot on your skin as he presses the knife against your inner thigh, the tip just barely breaking the surface. "Who else has been here?" he asks, his voice a dark caress.

You bite down on your tongue, tasting blood, but still you don't speak. The mafia boss’s eyes flash with anger, and he presses harder, the blade cutting through your skin. You grit your teeth, willing yourself not to scream, not to give in.

With a snarl of frustration, he slices through your underwear, the fabric falling away to reveal your most vulnerable areas. His hand moves to cup your pussy, his grip bruising. "So wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

"Do you get off on the pain I give you?" He strokes you roughly, the knife still pressing against your thigh, a constant reminder of the power he holds. "Or is it the fear?"

His thumb brushes against your clit, and despite the horror of the situation, you feel yourself respond. It's a traitorous betrayal of your own body, but you can't help it; his touch has always had this effect on you.

"You're mine," he says, his voice a low growl. "You'll always be mine." His hand moves from your pussy to your throat, squeezing tightly. You gasp for air, your eyes watering as he forces you to look at him.

"Say it," he demands. "Say you're mine."

You refuse, the word 'no' lodged in your throat, unspoken but clear.

His grip tightens, your vision swimming, but you stand firm, your resolve unbroken. He laughs, the sound a chilling echo in the room. "Fine," he says, his voice a harsh whisper. "We'll do this the hard way."

The mafias boss’s patience is at an end, his rage and lust boiling over. He yanks the knife away from your throat, the sharp tip of the blade leaving a trail of fire across your skin as he moves it downward.

With a quick, violent thrust, he pushes the knife into your pussy, the cold steel parting your wet folds with ease.

You scream, the sound a mix of agony and despair, your body trembling as he uses the knife to fuck you.

He's merciless, his strokes deep and hard, the blade sliding in and out of your tight hole, the edges scraping against your inner walls with each brutal thrust. You can feel the warmth of your blood mingling with your arousal, the sensation making you want to gag.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispers, his breath hot on your ear. "You like it when I hurt you. Fucking masochist." His free hand snakes around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you on the edge of consciousness.

"You're such a good little slut, taking it all." He continues to use the knife, his knife thrusts growing more erratic as he gets closer to climax.

"Tell me," he grunts, his voice strained. "Tell me who you've been fucking." But you remain silent, your teeth clenched in a silent snarl of defiance.

The room spins around you, the pain in your breasts and the invasion of the knife in your pussy making it difficult to think straight.

Yet, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

The Russian's grip on the knife tightens, his strokes growing faster, harder. "I'll make you talk," he says, his voice a dark promise. "You can't hide from me forever."

The knife twists, hitting a particularly sensitive spot, and you can't help the scream that tears from your throat. He smiles, the sight of your pain seemingly pushing him closer to the edge.

As you feel the world fading around you, the older man’s grip on your throat tightens, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and arousal.

He slams the knife into your pussy one final time, the pain so intense you think you might actually pass out.

But just as the darkness begins to claim you, he pulls the knife out, the absence of the cold steel leaving you feeling violated and empty.

He throws the knife aside, his own breaths ragged and desperate, his cock pulsing with need.

"Fine," he snarls, his voice a harsh rasp. "We'll do it the old-fashioned way."

With a quick movement, he unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down, his cock springing free, thick and hard. He grabs your hips, spinning you around so that you face the chair, your destroyed breasts pressed against the cold metal. He kicks your legs apart, and you feel the tip of his cock nudge against your bruised and bloodied entrance.

"You're going to tell me," he says, his breath hot against your neck. "You're going to tell me every name, every face, every cock that's been inside you."

His hand moves to the back of your head, pushing down until you're bent over the chair, your ass in the air. "And when you do, I'll make it all better. I'll make you forget them all."

His cock slams into you without warning, the pain so intense you can't help but cry out.

He's rough, his movements punishing, his anger and pain manifesting in every thrust. You can feel him stretching you, filling you completely, his cock hitting a spot that makes you see stars.

The Russian's cock slams into you with the force of a battering ram, the pain so intense it steals your breath away. He's not gentle; every thrust is a declaration of his dominance, a punishment for your silence.

Your body shakes with the impact, your bruised breasts smacking against the cold metal chair, the pain from the fresh wounds sending jolts of agony through your system. His hands are like iron bars, holding your hips in place as he uses you, his grip bruising your skin.

Each time he pulls out, you feel the warm gush of your blood and arousal, mixing with the sticky mess he's creating inside you.

"Who else?" he snarls, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your shoulder. The pain is a white-hot brand, but you refuse to give him what he wants.

Instead, you spit in his face, the saliva mixing with the sweat and blood that coats his skin.

He rears back, his eyes flashing with fury, and then he slams into you again, his hips moving like pistons, his cock a weapon of torment. "You think you can resist me?" he growls, his voice a dark whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "I'll make you beg for mercy, cunt."

You bite back a scream as he hits your g-spot, his fingers digging into your hips as he uses your body for his own sadistic pleasure. You can feel him thickening inside you, his orgasm building with every punishing thrust. "Tell me!" he roars, his hand reaching around to squeeze your throat again, cutting off your air supply.

"Tell me who you've been fucking, and maybe I'll let you live." Your eyes bulge, your nails clawing at the chair as you fight the urge to pass out.

After a particularly brutal thrust, the mafia boss releases your throat, and you gasp for air, your lungs burning. "You're going to tell me," he whispers, his voice a promise of more pain to come. "You're going to tell me, or I'll make sure you never feel anything but pain again."

His grip on your hips tightens, and he starts to move faster, his cock pistoning in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound. You feel your body betraying you, your walls clenching around his shaft despite the pain, the traitorous orgasm building within you.

"Never," you croak out, your voice barely a whisper.

It's all you can manage, but it's enough to fuel his rage. He slams into you again, his cock hitting a spot that makes you see white. "You're mine," he says, his voice a harsh rasp. "You've always been mine."

His hand moves from your hip to your clit, and he starts to rub it roughly, the friction sending sparks of pain through your body. "You're going to come for me," he says, his voice a dark command. "And then you're going to tell me everything."

Your body is pushed to its limits as the Russian's relentless assault continues. Each thrust feels like a hot iron rod being driven into your soul, the pain unbearable as your body is stretched and filled with his monstrous cock.

The sound of your flesh slapping against his is like a grim symphony of agony, echoing through the cold, sterile room. You can feel your insides tearing, the warmth of your blood mixing with his seed, a grim reminder of his ownership over you. His hand on your clit is a sadistic maestro's touch, forcing pleasure from your bruised and abused body despite the pain.

"Tell me!" he roars, his grip on your hips like vice. "Tell me who's been inside you, and maybe I'll stop." His voice is desperate now, a mix of anger and love warring within him, his need for control overshadowing any shred of humanity he might have once had.

But you remain silent, your eyes squeezed shut, your mind a haze of torment. The only sound in the room is the harsh grunts of his exertion and your muffled whimpers.

The mafia boss’s sadistic stroking of your clit reaches a crescendo, and despite the agony of your injuries, your body responds to his command. You cum around his cock, your muscles clenching tightly, trying to push him out even as they pull him deeper.

He groans in victory, feeling your pussy pulse and spasm around him, his own orgasm building. He fucks you harder, his hand moving faster, his thumb pressing down mercilessly on your clit, forcing wave after wave of unwanted pleasure through your trembling form. You scream, the sound a mix of pain and climax, your body shaking as you cum for the second time, blood and fluids painting the chair beneath you.

"Fuck," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so fucking beautiful when you're in pain."

He doesn't stop, his thrusts growing more frantic as he chases his own release. You feel his cock thicken, his grip on your hips tightening until it's almost painful. "Again," he says, his voice a dark whisper. "Cum for me again." And despite yourself, you do, your body responding to the twisted game he's playing with your emotions and your pain.

The mafia man’s orgasm hits like a freight train, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his seed. You feel the warmth of his cum mixing with your blood, the sensation making you want to retch.

But you stay silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing your despair.

He pulls out, his cock slick with your blood and his cum, and you collapse onto the chair, your legs giving out beneath you. You're sobbing now, the pain and humiliation too much to hold in.

He stands over you, his chest heaving, his cock still hard and glistening. "Look at what you've done to yourself," he says, his voice a mix of anger and pity.

"This is what happens when you betray me." He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your head up so you have to meet his gaze.

His eyes are wild, the love and hurt swirling together in a toxic brew. "But I can fix you," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I can make you mine again." He releases you, and you slump back down, your head hanging limply.

The mafia boss stares down at you, his chest heaving with his own release. The rage in his eyes hasn't dimmed, but there's something else there now. Something that looks almost like hope.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a mix of disgust and admiration. "You're still fighting." He steps closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw, his touch gentle despite the bruises he's left there.

"But you can't win, my love."

You spit in his face again, the defiance burning in your eyes like a dying ember.

It's all you have left, and you cling to it with everything you have.

He wipes the spit away with the back of his hand, his smile twisted. "Oh, how I've missed your fire," he says, his voice a low growl. He grabs you by the shoulders, spinning you around to face him. "But it's time to put it out."

With a swift movement, he pulls you to your feet, the ropes around your ankles cutting into your skin as you stand. He yanks your torn shirt up, the fabric sticking to your blood-covered breasts.

His eyes travel over your body, a mix of hunger and disgust. "You're a mess," he says, his voice filled with contempt. "But I'll make you clean again."

He pulls you closer, his cock still hard against your stomach. "You're going to tell me," he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. "And when you do, I'll make you forget all about them."

The Russian's eyes gleam with a dark excitement as he takes in your bruised and bloodied form. He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat.

His free hand reaches down to a specific part of his belt, unbuckling it with a sharp click that echoes through the room. He then pulls out a set of keys from it and unlocks a drawer in the desk, revealing an assortment of whips, chains, and other tools of torture. His hand lingers over them, a sadistic smile playing on his lips as he selects a particularly vicious-looking whip.

The mafia boss selects the spiked whip, the leather crackling with anticipation. He takes a moment to appreciate the gleaming metal spikes, the sight of them making your stomach churn. He grabs a bottle of vodka from the same drawer, the clear liquid sloshing in the bottle as he brings it to your blood-soaked crotch.

You try to jerk away, but his grip on your hair is unyielding. With a cruel smirk, he pours the alcohol over your wounds, the stinging pain making your vision swim.

You scream as the liquid seeps into your freshly torn flesh, the coldness of the vodka a stark contrast to the heat of your blood.

He doesn't give you a chance to recover, instead bringing the whip down in a vicious arc that connects with your bruised and abused pussy with a wet slap.

The pain is a white-hot brand, searing through you as the spikes tear into your sensitive flesh.

You can feel the alcohol burning into your wounds, a fresh agony added to the symphony of pain already playing in your body.

He doesn't stop there, though; he brings the whip down again and again, each strike more precise and brutal than the last.

You thrash in his grip, trying to escape the torment, but he's too strong, too determined to break you. His strikes are methodical, a twisted dance of pain and power, the whip's spikes digging deeper with every hit.

The mafia boss then wraps the end of the whip around your throat, the spikes biting into your tender flesh as he squeezes, cutting off your air supply. You claw at his wrist, your nails leaving bloody furrows in his skin, but he only tightens his grip.

Your eyes bulge, your chest heaving for air that won't come, your vision swimming with stars.

He leans in, his breath hot against your face, his eyes gleaming with a sick satisfaction as he watches the life drain from you. "Tell me," he whispers, his voice a dark promise of more pain if you don't.

But you refuse to give in, even as your lungs burn and your chest feels like it's going to explode.

Your hands fall to your sides, your body going limp in his grip, the only sound in the room the wet, gurgling noise of your struggles. He holds you there for a moment longer, watching you with a twisted fascination before finally letting go.

You gasp for air, your throat raw and burning, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth. He smiles, a twisted parody of affection, and pulls out another tool from the drawer.

It's a metal rod, the end shaped into a cruel hook.

"This," he says, his voice a dark purr, "Is for when you decide to be more… cooperative."

He steps closer, the rod in his hand glinting in the harsh light of the room.

You can see your reflection in the gleaming surface, a broken doll covered in blood and sweat. He runs the hook over your skin, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch that's somehow more terrifying than the pain of the whip.

"You're going to tell me," he says, his voice a gentle coaxing that's more unsettling than his previous roars. "And when you do, I'll make it all better."

You spit blood in his face again, your voice a harsh whisper. "Never."

The word is a declaration of war, a challenge he seems to relish.

He laughs, a sound devoid of humor, and brings the hook closer to your pussy.

"We'll see about that," he murmurs, the hook pressing against your bruised and swollen flesh.

You tense, expecting the worst, but he surprises you by sliding it along your slit, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of your pain. The mafia boss uses the hook to spread your labia, exposing the raw, bloody mess he's made of your most intimate parts.

"Look at this," he says, his voice filled with a twisted admiration. "You're so beautiful when you're broken."

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin as he runs the tip of the hook along your clit. The sensation is so intense, you almost pass out from the pain.

"But you're going to be even more beautiful when you're mine again."

He pushes the hook inside you, the spikes scraping along the inside of your pussy, and you scream hysterically, your body arching in agony.

The mafia boss’s smile widens as he watches you writhe in pain, the hook still embedded in your pussy. He takes a step back, admiring his handiwork, and then reaches for a small, black case on the desk.

Inside, you see a collection of needles, glinting in the cold light of the room.

His eyes never leave yours as he selects one, long and thin, with a wicked curve at the end. You can feel your body tightening around the hook, your muscles spasming in a futile attempt to push it out.

"This is for when you're feeling particularly uncooperative," he says, his voice a dark purr. He takes the needle between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently.

"But I suspect you're going to be feeling quite cooperative very soon." He brings the needle closer to your pussy, the curve lining up with your clit.

You can feel the sharpness of the tip against your swollen flesh, and you fight the urge to beg him to stop.

But you won't give him that power.

With a swift, precise movement, he inserts the needle, the point piercing your clit and sliding deep into your pussy.

The pain is like nothing you've ever felt before, a searing agony that makes you want to pass out.

You scream, your body jerking against the chair, but he holds you steady, his grip unyielding. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal.

"Take it like the good little whore you are." He starts to move the needle, twisting it inside you, the curve scraping along your inner walls.

Each twist sends a fresh wave of pain through you, making you want to vomit.

The mafia boss steps back, admiring his work, as you sob and whimper in pain. "You see," he says, his voice almost gentle, "It doesn't have to be this way. Tell me what I want to know, and I can make this all stop."

But you stay silent, your teeth clenched, your eyes squeezed shut.

He sighs, the sound filled with disappointment. "Very well," he says, his voice cold again. "But you're going to wish you had talked sooner."

He selects another needle from the case, his eyes never leaving yours.

He brings it to your pussy, the tip hovering just above your clit. "I'll give you one more chance," he says, his voice a deadly whisper. "Tell me who's been fucking you, and maybe I'll go easy on you."

You remain silent, your chest heaving with the effort of holding back your screams.

With a shrug, he pushes the second needle in alongside the first, the sensation of the sharp points tearing through your tender flesh making you want to pass out.

The Russian's eyes darken as he watches your silent defiance.

He starts to play with the needles, twisting and moving them with a precision that speaks of practice and skill. You bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing your pain.

"So stubborn," he murmurs, his voice a mix of admiration and anger. "But you'll break eventually." He grabs another handful of needles, his eyes traveling over your body, considering where to insert them next. You can feel the cold sweat trickling down your back, the pain making your vision blur.

The mafia boss’s hand moves with the precision of a surgeon, inserting needle after needle into your pussy. Each one sinks into your flesh with a sickening pop, the pain so intense you feel like you're being torn apart from the inside.

You're a pincushion of pain, each movement sending a fresh wave of agony through your body.

The needles are inserted at different angles, some going deep while others skim the surface, the varying depths creating a tapestry of torment that makes you want to scream.

Then the Russian's hand moves with a newfound fervor, the needles sliding into your flesh with an eerie grace.

The hook remains lodged deep inside you, the spikes scraping along your swollen walls as he twists it in a sickening rhythm that matches the insertion of the needles.

The pain is so intense, it feels like your entire body is on fire, your pussy a focal point of agony that threatens to consume you.

You feel the wetness of your blood mixing with the lubricant he's used, creating a macabre dance of red and clear fluids that dribble down your thighs.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice a dark promise. "You've always been mine, and you always will be."

His words are a knife, twisting in the wound of your soul, as he adds another needle, the metal scraping against the hook with an almost musical sound. You can feel the sharp points digging in deeper, the pain an almost tangible presence in the room. "Tell me," he says, his voice a gentle coaxing that makes your skin crawl. "Tell me who's been fucking my wife."

The mafia boss slightly smirks, stepping back from you, as his eyes gleaming with a twisted excitement.

He reaches for a small, red canister on the desk, the label written in a language you don't recognize.

You know what it is, though; you've seen it used in interrogations before. It's a can of lighter fluid, and you know what he's planning.

He douses the needles and the hook with the fluid, the harsh smell of the gasoline-like substance filling the room.

Your heart races, fear mixing with the pain as he takes a step back and flicks open a lighter.

The flame dances in the air, the light flickering over the needles embedded in your pussy, making the metal glint ominously.

"This is your last chance," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me, and I'll make it quick."

The flame hovers near the needles, the heat making your skin crawl. You clench your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the unimaginable agony that's about to come. "Who have you been fucking?" he demands again.

But you stay silent, your resolve unbroken despite the hell you're enduring.

With a snarl of frustration, he brings the flame closer, the heat growing more intense until it's almost unbearable.

You can feel your skin blistering around the base of the needles, the smell of burning flesh making you gag.

The mafia boss��s hand hovers over the needles, the flame reflecting in his eyes. "Fine," he says, his voice cold. "You want to play the martyr, I'll give you a performance to remember."

In one swift motion, he presses the lighter to the needles.

The fluid catches fire, the heat searing through your pussy in an explosion of agony that makes you arch off the chair.

You scream, the sound echoing through the room as the flames dance along the metal, the heat spreading through your insides like molten lava. The mafia boss watches you burn, his expression a twisted mix of anger and fascination.

The needles glow red-hot, the heat so intense it feels like your soul is being torn from your body. You can feel the flesh around the hook contracting, the spikes and needles digging deeper with each spasm of pain.

The flames lick at your tender flesh, the pain so intense that it's all you can focus on.

Your screams fill the room, a cacophony of agony and despair that seems to echo off the walls.

The mafia boss watches, his eyes alight with a perverse excitement as he sees you finally break.

Your body jerks and spasms against the chair, the ropes cutting into your skin as you struggle to escape the fire.

The needles are embedded so deeply now, the metal searing your insides as the flames dance around them.

The smell of your burning flesh fills the room, a sickeningly sweet aroma that makes your stomach churn.

────────────

The flames from the needles flicker and die out, leaving behind smoking metal embedded in your burnt flesh. The hook remains lodged deep inside you, a constant reminder of his dominance.

Your body is a wreck, a canvas of bruises, cuts, and burns, a testament to the extreme lengths he's willing to go to break you. Your breathing is shallow and erratic, each inhale a battle against the pain that threatens to swallow you whole.

The mafia boss’s smile fades as he watches you slip into unconsciousness, your body a broken doll in the chair.

He sighs, his frustration clear as he puts out the last of the flames with a damp cloth. He's impressed by your endurance, by the sheer force of your will to survive and not give him what he wants.

But he's not done with you yet.

He can't be.

You're his, and he won't let you die until you're his again.

The mafia boss leans in, his breath warm against your cheek, as he presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your bruised and bloody lips.

The contrast between his gentle touch and the agony of your burnt flesh sends a shiver down your spine.

His hand moves to the hook, gripping it firmly as he slowly pulls it out of you, the spikes tearing through your raw, swollen pussy with a wet, squelching sound that makes you whimper despite being unconscious.

The hook comes out with a final, sickening pop, leaving a gaping wound in its place.

"You're so stubborn," he murmurs, his voice a soft caress that seems to mock the pain he's inflicted on you. He carefully removes the needles one by one, his movements efficient and precise despite the anger that still lingers in his eyes.

Each removal sends a fresh wave of pain through your body, making you jerk and gasp even in your unconscious state. "But that's what I love about you," he says, his voice a mix of admiration and frustration.

The mafia boss sets aside the bloody needles and hook, reaching for a first aid kit that seems out of place in the room of torture.

He cleans your wounds with a gentle touch, his fingers deftly applying ointment and bandages to the burns and cuts. You can feel the coolness of the medical supplies against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the flames that had just been there.

He seems almost disappointed that you're not awake to see his 'care' for you, his eyes lingering on your bruised and broken form with a disturbing mix of love and anger.

"You're going to be okay," he whispers, his voice a strange blend of sweetness and malice. "I'll make sure of it."

He tapes the last bandage into place, his eyes lingering on the gaping hole where the hook had been. His thumb traces the edge of the wound, the pad of his finger coming away sticky with your blood.

He brings it to his lips, tasting you, his eyes closing for a brief moment before he opens them again, the anger in them burning like the embers of a dying fire.

You're vaguely aware of the pain as he tends to you, the fog of unconsciousness lifting slightly.

Each touch feels like a brand, a reminder of your submission to his will.

He wraps you in a blanket, lifting you with surprising gentleness from the chair, and carries you to a cot in the corner of the room.

He lays you down, his hand brushing through your hair, his touch surprisingly tender. "Rest," he says, his voice a command wrapped in a velvet glove. "You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

The mafia boss locks the door behind him with a final click, leaving you alone in the cold, sterile room.

The cot is hard and uncomfortable, but it's the closest thing to relief you've felt in what seems like an eternity.

Your eyes fully drift shut, the darkness behind your lids offering a temporary reprieve from the horrors you've endured.

But sleep doesn't come easy.

The pain keeps you on the edge of consciousness, a constant reminder of the hell you're in.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss

♡ Main Story. 🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

Headcanons 1 : The Bride of Blood (General)

To him, you're perfect. To you, he's just a mission.

🔞"I don't need your love, I need your submission."

Novella 1 : The Enemy In His Bed

⭐️🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

There is no safe word. There is no escape.

♡ If you think Reader is stupid or she should have done something else. If you believe that, then I recommend reading the second part, "There is no safe world. There is no escape." It'll answer and clarify a lot of your questions about the world building in this story.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1 [you are here]. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

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alien-magnolia · 5 months ago

Text

Smell

Tw: lots of SMUT little plot, dom!coded Logan and sub-coded/fem!reader, SIZEknk, primal!, ovulation and Logan’s sense of smell, possessive Logan, breeding!knk, Logan is rough!!

18+ MDNI

A/n: I want him so bad. Pls reblog if you like <3 xoxo, Liz

It’s been a long day for the both of you. Charles had wanted the two of you to tag along on a mission to Eastern Europe, bringing a supposedly dangerous mutant who planned to wreak havoc back to the mansion. It was a large effort bringing him back, yet you all did it.

It was your favorite moment of the day, as if right now. You and Logan got to retire to your shared quarters, and relax for a good day or more. You loved spending time with him, especially after a long day — when both of your frustrations needed to be let out.

He unlocks the door, lighting a cigar as he steps through the threshold. Your smaller arms snake around his broad back, pressing gentle kissed into his flannel. “What’s the matter, huh, sweetheart?,” he turns to you, flicking the cigar to the side of his mouth with his tongue. “Missed you, is all. Been a hard day, Lo. Let’s unwind,” you softly whisper, your hands coming up to touch his beard, the one you loved so much: (especially when the scruff of it brushed your soaking cunt <3..)

He smiles, large hands cup your smaller face, as he brings you closer for a forehead kiss. He pauses momentarily to smell the nape of your neck. “Missed me after spending the day with me, huh, kid?,” a knowing smirk creeps across his face. You nod your head vigorously. “Or are you jus’ ovulating?,” the question makes itself very known in the room.

Your cheeks heat up as you start to blush. He cocks his head, chuckling. “I know you well, sweetheart,” he tells you, looking over the pleading gaze you had on him as of now. “Can smell you, you know. You always smell so fuckin’ good when you’re ovulating,” he adds, eyes darker than they were before. You blush under his hard gaze.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna give you what ya’ need, though,” his gruff voice adds, sending shivers down your spine.

“What do I need, Lo?,” you ask, your small arms wrapping themselves around his broad, thick, muscular shoulders, your pretty and perky tits pressing up against his chest. He looks down at your face, then, at your tits, his hands move themselves from your face to your waist, his grip ironclad.

“You need my cock. S’alright, you just do what I say now, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, oh so vigorously. His lips attack yours, as the two of them dance together, your lipgloss on his rough, slightly chapped — but soft lips. His beard tickled your soft cheeks, and you pressed yourself into him as tight as imaginable.

He pauses for a moment to inhale your scent again. “Fuck. You smell so sweet when you’re ovulating, you know that, yeah? Like it’s poison. That’s what you fuckin’ do to me,” he adds, almost snarling. “Wanna rile you up, Lo. Wanna be good for you, want you to hurt me,” you tell him, not even recognizing where all this was coming from. What was wrong with you? You were completely pliant for a man.

You wanted to be used by him. To feel ALL of his strength in each and EVERY possible way. You knew his abilities, you knew how animalistic he was when riled up. You wanted that Logan tonight. You’d let him scar you with his claws if he would: he would never, of course. He was insistently protective of you. That and your hormones: is what drove you to this state tonight.

You feel his hard on through his jeans , it's almost as if it was made of metal: (in a way it was.) His lips meet yours, pushing against you in a way that made your cunt throb, your soft lips and his rough ones danced together, as if glued. You loved how rough his beard felt on your face, and his neck smelled faintly of cigars. You hear a few grunts from him, his meaty hands coming up to grope and knead at your soft body.

His teeth clash against yours, the both of you were gravitating towards each other by some kind of invisible string or magnet. Your hands feel his heart, fast, through his wide chest. You loved that you never had to take off his shirt in moments like these. He never wore one. Around you, anyway.

You brush your pastel painted nails through his chest hair; coming up to smell it a little, rub your face against it. You wanted ALL of him; not only his cock.

He chuckles as you rub against his chest. “Aww. Goin’ all pathetic f’me, kid? Didn’t even start with you. Fuck.,” he growls, and pins you down onto the bed, your wrists above your head. A hard knee between your legs is used to spread them apart. Your arms — are still pinned to the bed, and his grip on your wrists is ironclad.

He’s on top of you, his hairy chest bearing a weight down on you, his soft lips nipping at your neck, at your tits, your soft belly. His beard tickles when he kisses down your stomach, lower, lower… he gets to your thighs, pressing a sweet and slobbery kiss to them, and starts attacking your nub, like it’s a hard candy, and he can’t get enough.

“Lo!! Lo!! You scream out, trying to get away from him. It was too much, you couldn’t!! You feel some of his claws come out, starting to pierce your thighs just a bit. You pull back, looking at him. He stares back, his gaze intense. “You want me to stop, baby?,” he asks, claws resting on your thighs. “No, no. I like it.,” you shamefully admit, your stomach dropping as he gazed at you, taking in your body as if it were a work of art.

He continues working you over, his tongue gentle yet powerful, your thighs getting red because of his abrasive beard. You feel your orgasm coming on, as a storm, and you try to pull away from him to lessen the intensity. His claws graze your soft skin as his iron grip pulls you right back. “Where ya think you going honey? Daddy’s not done here,” with that, his calloused hand slaps your roughed up cunt. You yelp, and he emits a burly, growled sort of chuckle. He goes back to slurping up your fluids like there is nothing left. You gush into his mouth, his beard now wet with your fluids.

He flips you over, his face pressing into your neck. “Fuck, so sweet…,” his heavily hooded eyes glaze over your face and neck, before taking a small bite into your jugular. He was your predator. You were under him, his prey, his for the taking, his to use.

Without another word, his mouth breathing hot and heavy near your panting face, your soft skin against his rough beard, his hands gripped you in place as he slid in. Bred you. Not a word. His hands began to hold you up by your neck, as if you were some kind of animal. His large heaving chest pressed into yours, his thick, pulsing cock stretched you so deliciously that it made your vision start to go.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take it. Fuck,” he growled, hands pinching and holding your soft skin. All his prey did was mutter and moan, and Logan, a man of few words, was satisfied. He had his girl under him, pliant, ready to be bred. And he did breed her. Hours and hours on end.

By the time Logan was done with you, you were both soaked in each other: literally and figureatively. He gently laid you on your back. “Lo,” you mutter, weakly, all your energy drained by your feral man. You’d let him kill you, even. You wanted to be used, to be his.

“Did so good f’me, little one. Let me get you all cleaned up. Don’t move, don’t want my girl tiring herself.

#liz writes ��#liz’s masterlist #dom!coded logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x female reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlet smut

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rafayelxsylusho · 22 days ago

Text

Giving the LADS men head part 2 🍭🍭🍭

TW: SMUT

Caleb x reader

CALEB 🪐

First time bj

His fingers dance along the supple fabric of your skirt, inching higher and higher up your thigh as he drives. The car hums beneath you, a low purr that seems to match the almost imperceptible smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"You know, I've been thinking..." Caleb muses, his voice taking on a contemplative lilt as his hand creeps even further north, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Maybe I should just keep you in this skirt all the time. Make it your uniform, so to speak."

His eyes flick towards you for a moment, catching your gaze before returning to the road. There's a mischievous glint in those violet depths, a hint of something more molten and intense lurking just beneath the surface.

He chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. His thumb rubs slow circles on your thigh, maddeningly close to where you need him most.

His eyes flash with hunger as he feels your thighs clench together, a feeble attempt to ward off his wandering touch but it only spurs him on, emboldening him to slide his hand higher, fingertips grazing the lacy edge of your panties. The car's interior lights flicker as they pause at the stop sign, casting your faces in a dance of shadow and moonlight.

In a sudden movement, he fists a hand in your hair, dragging your face to his. His lips crash against yours in a bruising kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs. He groans into your mouth, the sound rumbling through his chest like distant thunder.

He breaks the kiss as abruptly as he started it, leaving you both panting. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in your kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. The car behind you honks, snapping him out of the moment.

With a growl, he releases your hair and grips the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. As he speeds off, his hand finds its way back to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh possessively.

"Hey Caleb... I want play too?" You ask reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt.

Caleb's eyes widen briefly as you do so, a flicker of surprise and dark anticipation crossing his face. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but the tightness of his grip on the steering wheel betrays his focus. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Caleb inhales sharply through gritted teeth as your small hand finds its way to his clothed length, palming him with a boldness that sends a jolt of electricity through his veins. The car swerves slightly, tires screeching against the pavement before he corrects it with a deft turn of the wheel. His hips buck instinctively into your touch, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Careful, pipsqueak. Keep teasing me like that and I won't be held responsible for what happens when we get back to my place." The threat hangs heavy in the air between you, laden with unspoken promise and dark intent. A groan escapes his lips as he feels your deft fingers unbuttoning his pants, the zipper slowly descending under your touch.

A moan tears from his throat as he feels your small hand wrap around his throbbing, freed cock. The car lurches to the side, nearly veering off the road as pleasure rockets through him at your bold touch.

The hand not on the steering wheel comes down to cover yours on his cock, squeezing your fingers around his throbbing length, encouraging you to stroke him. The heat of him is incredible, the silky steel of his erection pulsing against your palm as he fights the urge to close his eyes and lose himself completely in the sensation.

"Keep this up and I'll pull over right here and fuck you in the backseat, consequences be damned,"

He sees you lean over, your head dipping down towards his lap. His heart hammers against his ribcage, a primal hunger surging through him at the sight of your lips parting, your small pink tongue darting out to lick along the sensitive underside of his throbbing cock. He's never felt a sensation so intense, so all-consuming, and you've barely even touched him.

Caleb's eyes widen in shock as he feels your warm breath ghost over his aching cock before your soft lips wrap around the swollen head. A strangled cry rips from his throat, echoing through the confines of the car as he feels your wet tongue swirl teasingly around him. The car swerves violently, tires screeching as he fights to keep it on the road, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel for dear life.

"Oh fuck!" he roars, voice cracking with pleasure and disbelief. The sensation is overwhelming, better than anything he's ever felt before. His heart hammers wildly against his ribcage as he tries to process the fact that this is really happening, that his dream is coming true.

Through the haze of lust clouding his mind, he manages to choke out, "I didn't...you don't have to...ah!" Despite his words his fingers are tangling desperately in your hair fighting the urge to yank you down further.

He has always wanted to fuck your face until tears stream down your cheeks, until you're choking on his cum, gagging on his thick seed. But he holds back, if only just barely, knowing he needs to focus on the road.

You angle his throbbing cock just so, the sensitive glans dragging deliciously along the ridged roof of your mouth. Electricity crackles through his veins, every nerve endings alight with the exquisite pleasure of your mouth on him. His grip tightens in your hair as he fights the urge to take control, to set a brutal pace.

"Shit, just like that baby," he grunts, hips rocking subtly into the slick heat of your mouth. The car speeds on, engine roaring, as he loses himself in the sensation of your tongue swirling around his aching flesh, your lips sealed tight around his girth. He can feel the telltale tightening in his balls, the pressure building to an unbearable crescendo.

Caleb lets out a strangled curse as he slams on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. The sudden motion causes him to slip from the warm, wet haven of your mouth, leaving him teetering on the brink of release, balls drawn up tight and aching for completion. He's panting harshly, chest heaving as he fights to regain control, to rein in the all-consuming need to bury himself back inside you and chase his rapidly approaching orgasm.

"Be careful Colonel, keep your eyes on the road" you say with a playfully smirk.

At your words, he grits his teeth, jaw clenching so hard he fears he might crack a molar. With a herculean effort, he tears his gaze from your glistening, kiss-swollen lips and forces his eyes back to the dark road ahead. His hands shake slightly on the steering wheel as he takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to will away the desperate, clawing need inside him.

As soon as the car lurches back into motion, your mouth is once again engulfing him, your lips sealing tight around his throbbing cock. Caleb throws his head back with a moan, fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair as you take him deep, the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat.

Caleb's voice is a desperate, wrecked rasp as he begs you for permission, too far gone in his lust to take it any further without your consent. His cock throbs urgently against your tongue, leaking pre-cum and coating your mouth with his musky essence. The car swerves erratically as he fights the overwhelming urge to grip your head and fuck your face with wild abandon, using your mouth for his own pleasure.

"Please, sweetheart... let me fuck your pretty little mouth," he growls, violet eyes blazing with hunger as they meet yours, silently pleading for you to give him what he needs, what he craves. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, every muscle pulled taut as he teeters on the knife's edge of control. You push down the hand he has tangled in your hair with your own, an open invitation to take what he needs.

In an instant, he seizes control, gripping your head tightly as he starts to fuck your mouth with deep, powerful thrusts. The car swerves wildly as he sets a brutal pace, the engine roaring in time with his grunts and growls of pleasure.

He forces your head down to meet his thrusts, burying himself to the hilt in the tight, wet clutch of your throat. He holds you there, relishing the way your muscles flutter and spasm around his sensitive flesh.

Caleb lets out a moan of warning as he feels your tongue flatten against the underside of his cock, the added sensation pushing him past the point of no return. His balls draw up impossibly tight, every muscle in his body pulling taut as the first wave of his release crashes over him. "

Fuck, I'm coming!" he bellows,voice echoing through the confined space of the car. At the last second, he tries to pull your head back, to spare you the force of his impending climax.

But you hold fast, defying his attempts to remove you, your scalp burning from the brutal tug of his fingers. The sensation of your stubborn refusal to relinquish your prize only heightens his pleasure, pushing him to the brink of madness. With a final, brutal thrust, he hilts himself deep and unleashes a torrent of thick, hot cum directly down your throat.

The car lurches and bounces over the uneven road, but he barely notices, lost in the all-consuming bliss. Even as the last tremors of his climax fade away, he keeps your head trapped, not letting you pull back and catch your breath.

His chest heaves with ragged, shuddering breaths, sweat dampening his skin as he tries to come down from the high of the most intense orgasm of his life. Finally, with a low, sated groan, he allows your head to pull back, his softening cock slipping from your abused throat with a wet pop.

Caleb blinks rapidly, coming back to himself as the reality of where they are sinks in. He glances around, realizing he's pulled into the underground garage of his high-rise apartment building, the engine still running and purring softly. In his lust-fueled haze, he'd driven on autopilot, his body moving on instinct alone as he chased his rapidly approaching release.

He quickly puts the car in park and kills the engine, the sudden silence deafening after the roar of the engine. Turning to you, his eyes are still dark, pupils blown wide and glinting with a hunger that hasn't abated despite his intense orgasm mere moments before. He reaches out, thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lower lip, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his release across your skin.

"Looks like we're home, pipsqueak," he murmurs, voice low and rough from his exertions. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes in your disheveled appearance, the way your lipstick is smeared and your hair is a wild mess from his enthusiastic attentions. He leans in closer, nose brushing along your cheek, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat that clings to your skin.

"And now that I have you here, all to myself... the real fun can begin," he promises darkly, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air between you. With that, he opens his door, stepping out and coming around to your side to open your door as well, ready to sweep you up and carry you off to his lair, eager to stake his claim on you in every way imaginable.

#lads smut #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #lnds x reader #lads x you #lads x reader #lnds x you #love and deepspace reader #caleb x you #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #caleb #lnds smut

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hersweethrt · 11 months ago

Note

CNC LUKE WHERE HE JUST FUCKS YOU WHIKE YOU SLEEP

tw: somnophilia, pre-established relationship, smut, dark!luke

a/n: Luke and his somno kink 😵‍💫💨😵‍💫💨

it’s 11pm when he wakes up, already feeling the strain of his cock against his boxers. he’s felt it before-vivid nightmares equal even more evocative wet dreams. Eyebrows furrowing as he gets up, every step worsening the throb in his stomach. Curfew being 3 hours ago-you’re asleep, more than likely and he sees this, knowing that he should turn right back around to his cabin but can you blame him?

you’re right there, so pretty and soft, letting out quiet, contented hums as he watches you through the window. the sight of your plush lips against the silk pillows worsening his need for them around his cock. so he does it, hoisting himself through the window beside your bed as your face contorts into something confused.

He goes still.

When you’re face relaxes, he’s right back on you, knees creating creases in your sheets as he positions himself behind you. he can’t take it anymore,never being one to resist temptation.

And he’d never have the strength to refuse the invitation that you pose.

He hikes up your dress, revealing your bare ass as he lets out a hiss.

No panties.

You have to be trying to kill him. He lets out his cock, the brush of the cool air making it twitch as he begins to rut against you. It starts out slow and controlled.

He’s trying to not to wake you, at least be considerate.

“L-luke?”

The second he hears your hazy,voice-all inhibitions are thrown out of his head as he picks up his pace, pre cum trickling down onto your thighs.

“makin’ me a fuckin” mess, baby” he mumbles, eyes turning dark as he taps his dick against your glistening pussy. “couldn’t even sleep, was dreaming of your pretty, little cunt”

He gives your clit a light pinch as you let out a whine. “‘S just me yeah? gonna let me use that pretty hole of yours, angel ?”

You let out a muffled whimper when he pushes all the way in-and he takes it as confirmation .

“‘like you’re made for me-christ ”

His hand moves to your mouth, fingers prodding your lips as he resists the urge to gag you with them instead choosing to use his hand to stifle your moans-your eyes flicker at the movement and you subconsciously tense around him.

“Never knew my girl was such-such a slut”

His expression grows almost enamored at how your squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible,squeal from you as he pinches your clit. Your constantly on the edge, slipping in and out of consciousness from his assault on your cervix, harsh-angry thrusts punctuating his words.

“quiet, can’t wake up your friends now?”

Hes so mean for it, knowing its almost impossible to keep silent with his pace.

Stars dance across your tunneled vision, white blurring into a little galaxy in your head as you feel the tensing of your core, as you tiptoe the line, knowing how close you are to slipping into that pure, visceral release. Another slap is all it takes.

“m-maybe you want them to see you like this, being used like my good fuckin’ you”

Your eyes roll back, and he fucks your hips right back on him with his tight grip on them. Even when the rope breaks, and you’re pushed under-thighs shaking in illicit euphoria as you leak around him, he doesn’t stop. Like some rabid animal, he takes you back in-then out again with his movements-his thoughts becoming scrambled, accentuated with primal, violent pushes and pulls before he’s slamming back in you again as tears gather in your eyes.

“shit, just me yeah? got you, sweet girl” he mutters, but it’s like he’s saying it to himself as all you hear is ringing as he slam’s into you once again.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“

He’s close, sloppy movements giving you a perfect indication, as he bites his lip to stop a moan from coming out as he cums, spilling his seed into you as he stops, making sure you’re all stuffed with his seed. he pulls out of you lazily, unbeknownst to your unconscious body as you fall right back into dreamscape. Pulling back down your dress, he gives you a soft kiss before disappearing just as he came, your bunk mates none the wiser.

#luke catsellan x reader #dark! luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #dark!luke castellan smut #tw somno #cnc somno #◟ writings ᢗꪫ ݁.﹒

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

tw - modern!au, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, nonconsensual touching, and stalking. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

“I’ve been thinking about us, again.”

He was barely trying to whisper, his voice loud enough to earn several pointed looks from the people around you. You’d tried to put yourself at a distance from the rest of the class, to sit in a deserted corner of the near-empty lecture hall, but he wouldn’t have cared if you were in the first row. That was something you’d had to learn quickly about him – Kunikuzushi was shameless at the best of times, actively vitriolic at the worst. Your public humiliation wasn’t just a pleasant side-effect of his company, but an active goal he was striving towards during every minute you spent together.

“You don’t have to look so worried – if I was going to break up with you, you’d know.” You kept your eyes trained on the lecturer, your expression schooled to practiced disinterest, but his voice lulled like you’d broken into tears. You felt him shift that much closer to you – his thigh pressing into yours. “I just don’t think we spend enough time together. I know, I know, we’re both busy, but still. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You were. Just last week, you’d spent two hours locked in your bedroom closet – lights off and knees pulled into your chest – because Kuni had somehow gotten your address and decided it would be a good use of his time to loiter on your doorstep and refuse to leave until you came out. You planned your day-to-day schedule meticulously to make sure it would never bleed into his, went out of your way not to have to go where you knew he would be, but there was only so much you could do to get away from someone willing to blow off his classes and skip work just to spend the better part of a day sending you candid pictures from one of his countless burner phones. You could only be thankful he was too caught up in his own delusions to ever let his obsession turn violent. Lashing out at you for never acknowledging whatever relationship he thought you were in would be akin to admitting you didn’t have a relationship at all, he would never do that.

He took up your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You tried, weakly, to pull away from him, but he only let out a breathy chuckle, his head soon resting on your shoulder. Compared to how he’d acted when you first met – standoffish, bristly, constantly on the verge of losing his temper – he was practically a touch-starved puppy, happy so long as he could sit in your lap and bask in your attention, positive or negative.

If only you’d ever wanted a pet.

“I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say it.” Another laugh, a playful squeeze to your hand. “I think we should move in together.”

You snapped in his direction, your knees jolting against the bottom of your desk and earning a few pointed glares. After mouthing a sheepish apology, you dug your nails into the back of his hand, keeping your voice as low as possible. “Kuni, I— I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t think it’s practical?” Predictably, he cut you off. “I knew you’d say that. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be able to find the nerve to leave your apartment.” You felt his smile against the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “I’ve already handled it. By the time that moron—“ He rolled his eyes towards your professor. “—shuts up, everything should be taken care of.”

You felt something heavy and sharp drop into the pit of your stomach. “But, you don’t have a key—”

“I made myself a key a couple weeks ago – got tired of waiting for you to offer. I love you, babe, but you’re too timid for your own good.” His grin, pressed the curve of your throat. “You can thank me later on, after I’ve shown you our new place.”

His hand fell to your thigh, just a touch too high not to trigger some buried, primal instinct inside of you. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate – bolting upward and tearing yourself away from him. Your chair scaped against the tile floor, your palms slamming against the desk, and in an instant, every pair of eyes in the lecture hall were on you. The professor scowled in your direction, his ire tangible. “Do you have something to say, (L/n)?”

You opened your mouth, but your mouth was dry, your throat suddenly swollen shut. Your gaze fell back to Kuni – his smile still wide and his eyes still so, so dark.

Wordlessly, you shook your head and collapsed back into your seat. As the lecture picked back up and all concentration was returned to the front of the rom, Kuni latched onto you once again, his hold twice as strong and twice as suffocating as it had been.

It was almost a comfort to know that, this time, there wasn’t anything you could do to get away from him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer #wanderer x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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writingmyimagination · 7 months ago

Text

Never let go ~

Massimo x reader (may get a bit steamy.)

Tw: choking, cussing, smut

“One year…. One year have I wasted on a man who will never change.” I write in my journal as I look up and out the window of the plane as Massimo huffs annoyed leaning against his chair mad I’ve refused to sit near him. You see unlike Laura I choose to be with him thinking he’d learn after she ran off with his gardener. At first it was bliss and we would shop, have dinners, and travel.

But as fate unfolded with the months he could never let a part of her go fully. Times I’ve spread myself thin to please this God like man, the change in clothes from my usual classy elegance to a more sexy look for him, the unusual taste in art that I know he had commissioned for her. If it were up to me I’d burn them all in our courtyard one by one and light a cigarette with the flames. I hear him shift angrily either at the fact his wife refuses to look at him or even breathe in his direction or at the sexual tension between him and our flight attendant knowing I would turn the whole plane around if he even dares to act on it.

“If he leaves again I’ll disappear I swear it to this book and to myself, I deserve the world at my feet. Not this sour bitter treatment as if I was Laura. I have done nothing to cater for him and yet I find my cup empty while his is full, full of life, fun, and excitement. While I am expected to wait for him, submis—“ I feel a large hand wrap around my throat, his hot breath tickling my ear as his hand gives a warning squeeze. “Mi amore, are you fucking kidding me? Disappear?” He lets out a stiff chuckle as I feel his other hand swiftly grab my journal and throw it against the wall of the plane where he was once sat. “As if you could stay hidden long enough for that to happen, I’d search under every single rock and cave to find you.” I tighten my lips together as I look off to the side seeing the flight attendant staring at us, want and desire pooling desperately in her eyes. “(Y,N.) are you really going to be this difficult, acting as if I was some random man you could throw a fit with and I’d just let you be.” His free hand playing with the hem of your white mini dress going up to the middle of your chest where we can see the golden v accentuating your cleavage. “Massimo, please.” I croak out, half in annoyance and in desire because I know what lies in the next few moments to come. He lets my neck go and I take a deep breath, he moves to the front where I can see him towering over me and does something shocking.

Massimo has knelt in front of me with soft gentle hands he moves them up my calves to my knees and spreads them apart. “W-what are you—“ he gives me a look. “For once shut the fuck up.” He reaches under my dress and rips my lace underwear off me. My hands go to rest on his bicep as he pulls my hips closer to the edge of the seat, his lips tickle my inner thighs with kisses leading up to a long teasing swipe of my glistening folds. A deep primal groan emerges from his chest as he hungrily laps at the pooling wetness between my legs. Soft moans leave me as I shiver under the unfamiliar sensation of his tongue making its presence known. Massimo wasn’t one for giving but always receiving. This is a whole different feeling entirely.

My eyes roll back as he continues determined to make me gush sweet juices all over his face. His sweet prize for having to put up with my mood swings as he calls them. He knows Laura is gone, but she gave him a feeling he couldn’t describe but you, you were his weakness. The one thing that could bring him to his knees and possibly lose his mind, hence why you were his wife he lost you once over his own mistakes but that wasn’t happening again.

The pooling desire swirling in the deep of your tummy was nearing the edge, asking to be released as your legs tighten against his strong hands. “M-Massimo keep going please, like that.” He smiles against your folds as he continues, his tongue swirls in circles around your clit and he moves a hand further up, once at his destination he inserts his two middle fingers slowly, angling them upward just to brush along the wall. He can feel you tighten around his fingers and at this point he’s ready to hoist you up and impale you with his long, girthy shaft. But he knows you need this, you need to feel cared for before he can have his own way with you. He feels your legs tremble as you struggle to breathe and he takes everything you give him, lapping each drop as if he hadn’t drink anything all day not wanting to waste a single drop, the overstimulation of his tongue pressing your bundle of nerves until he finally stops and look up. “Beautiful.” He whispers before placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh and getting up, he sits next to you and pulls you close to his side. “Stop acting like how you have been this whole trip, (Y,N).” He kisses the top of your head as you regain consciousness from cloud nine. “Massimo everything I wrote is true it’s how I feel…” I look up at him. “You aren’t fully here.” “Bullshit. Bella I am here I’m right fucking here, I got on my knees for you do you understand how much you mean to me? Outside of this.” He motions around with his hand. “I’d kill for you. I should’ve never left you for her. She was the devil in disguise, a fucking demon.” He grabs your jaw, “but you.. you are everything pure, sweet, and perfect. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I did to you. I may not be the perfect man or husband but for you I am willing to try.” You both lean in and share a sweet kiss before hearing a ding. “Please buckle your seatbelt the captain with start our descend soon.”

#365 days imagine #massimo torricelli x reader #Massimo x reader

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whore-ibly-hot · 19 days ago

Text

Tw: Dubcon, coercion, orgasm denial, general guys being icky and manipulative.

(Its kinda ass idk)

Thinking about...

A couple of guys, not really delinquents bit certainly not 'upstanding' citizens just using you for some relief. It's probably after some event, maybe a rock show at some shithole downtown, or maybe you were just getting some snacks with guys you thought were your friends. Not thought, they are your friends, but you couldn't have imagined this.

The first fidgets with the lever of the backseats, trying to get them folded back into the trunk while number twos tugging at your skirt, your tits pressed harshly into the leather of his car. "Cmon, find the fucking lever!" He growls and number one, who raises his hands in defense. "What do you want me to do, its probably your fucking car that let this happen. This shit-bucket probably doesn't even have a lever for the seats anymore."

Number three is driving, slowly finding some small lot with minimal lights in the back of some old building, shifting into park. While the two in back continue to bicker, he makes his way to the front of you. "Are you two sure about this? Seems like going to far." He says, one hand gripping at his pants sleeve with tension.

"You're bricked up too, bro. You aren't exactly the virgin Mary here." Number two pauses, then chuckles. "But, maybe virgin does fit." One cackles too, prompting three to smack the shoulder of two. "You're not scared, are you? You want this plenty, right?" Two asks, squishing your cheeks together in a 'fishy' face with a free hand.

"Don't know." You're scared, tired from the the fun night, unsure why three guys you've always been platonic with are doing this, but you can't deny the aching in your gut, the way your thighs are rubbing a bit against the leather seams of the middle seat and the far right seat. "I'm not sure, you guys-" You yelp, a hard open-palm grazing across the sliver of exposed ass poking from under your slightly ridden up skirt.

"Fuck is wrong with you?" Three asks, suddenly the seat jolts down, making you gasp. "Easy, easy."

"Get that skirt off, I just know she's got a good ass." One's hands push up, grabbing a cheek each amd kneading them as he groans. "Fucking mint, look at this, baby!" One leans so he's over you a bit, hard clothed cock pressing against your ass as he whispers in your ear. "Why'd you hide this thing from us?" He asks.

"I wasn't hiding it-"

"Obviously." Two snarks. "We barely even had to lift this skirt up, you were practically flaunting it."

God, you're aching. Maybe it's half stress, half arousal making you run on adrenaline, but the lack of care they seem to have for how you feel about this is having a primal effect on you.

"Pussy's fat too..." One comments, yanking down the thin panties keeping your soaked lips from him.

"Careful!" You squeak, causing them all to actually pause for a moment. "Its... been a bit."

Two breaks out into a grin, realizing this should mean dwindling protests from you about the way they plan to use you.

"She's not saying yes." Three protests, hand coming to hover over your cunt, effectively blocking his eager friends wandering fingers.

"She said maybe, and look at her!" One tries to get his hands past threes hand. "She's dripping on his leather seats, she's wetter than a bitch in heat.

"Its not like we're holding her down in some alley or something!" Two adds, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. "This is loving compared to that. Vanilla stuff." He snips.

Three seems conflicted, eyes downcast as he reluctantly pulls a hand away, moving it to gently rub your back up and down, as if trying to soothe a cat.

"Finally. Glad you decided to knock off the cockblocking." Spreading the lips of your labia, one whistles lowly, dragging a digital from your hole to aroused bud from behind, gently circling once, then twice.

"Shit-" You whisper out, gripping the seat edges with slick hands. You can feel threes hand clench slightly, but you lay your cheek on his knee, casting a flushed and low-lidded glance up at him. This reassures him a little, but your head near his oh-so sensitive inner thigh makes this action also go right to his dick.

"Fingers, how many you want?" One whispers. You just mewl at the feeling of friction on your clit, whining when it suddenly stops. "Wait, wait, okay, two, two!" You exclaim. You jolt forward a bit at the slight intrusion, the digits working you towards a finish, but not at the pace you'd like.

"You're sucking him in like crazy, shit." Two chuckles, leaning to glance behind you. "Makes me wonder what kinda suction you'd have elsewhere." He fidgets with his belt, the sound of a zipper and belt clasp coming undone sounds out, and a snap of boxers being pulled slightly lower. Three looks disgusted as two just winks, taking his own cock in his hand and running his hand over it once, then twice before pressing it forward.

Your lips wet with the slightly sticky red tip he presses to them, prodding once or twice like he's seeking entrance. "You wanna out in? Just give it a taste, I promise I'm not gonna make you take it all the way, baby." Two chuckles as you awkwardly kiss the tip. "That's nice, but I'm not asking you to give it's first kiss." Gripping your hair, he guides it in a bit, groaning. "Yeah, there we go. Right around my cock, use your tongue." You let out a moan as one hits a spot with the tips of his fingers, curled inside. It reverberates around Two's cock, causing him to buck. He keeps his promise, you have to admit, he only bucks forward a bit before pulling his length back out. "You're taking it so fucking good, not gonna bruise your mouth though, she's taking it like a fucking champ, man." He glances at One. "You think she's close?"

"Her pussy's twitching like she's gonna pop any second." The bragging first member slows his pace, causing you to whine and pull your mouth off Two's cock. "Why'd you stop, wait- wait-" You're panting, on the verge of overstimulation and seeking that release rather than focus on all your conflicting feelings.

"Shh, calm down. You'll get your pussy rocked, calm down." Two elbows Three, nodding his head towards the man. He's been stoic since you out your head on his leg, conflicted and sickened, while simultaneously being sickening aroused. "Last chance to jump this, man. I know you want to.." Three just pushes him back, but moves to have you sit up, now facing him. His hands on your cheek. "Breathe. S' okay, you want to stop, or you want to finish this?" He asks.

"Finish it, baby. We'll stroke it over yo-" Three smacks off one, scolding him before turning back to you. "Your choice. Your decision. Don't listen to them." Three reassures you, arms on blocking you in and leaning over you slightly to keep the other two from interfering.

"Finish. I wanna cum, m' aching and-" You buck forward just a bit, and he gets the memo. "Okay, okay. Lay on your back, spread your legs, I'm gonna do the work."

You don't have to be asked twice; laying on the cool leather, this time back down, chest rising. Two hands get your feet tucked around Threes waist, and he lowers down on you. You're so hyper focused on how sensitive you are, and your 'friend'leaning over you you can barely register one and two jerking off, hoping to climax around the time you do.

Three gets himself lined up, but not before placing a few soft kisses on your neck. "I got you. Just forget about those idiots, okay? You and me, I'm taking care of you. I'll let you finish and make em' take you right back home."

You just nod, eyes squeezing tight as he enters. "Ah-" You groan. "You're big, fuck-"

He's not moving. "Too big?"

You shake your head, and he resumes several slow repitions. Eventually, he's fully sheathed, balls smacking against your ass as he thrusts. "Amazing, you feel so good, so good." He grunts. His hands brace on either side of you, but don't grip you harshly like one and two. "Is it good for you?" He asks.

"Up..." is all you can mumble. He gets the hint, angling his cock slightly. Soon, his bulbous tip is hammering that spongy place deep inside you, and you can feel your release finally hitting. "Yes, cumming, I'm finishing-" You start to yell, then gasp at a hot rush of fluids that's aren't your own.

"Holy shit!" Two cackles along with one, as three halts in his movements. "Mister 'i don't wanna, it's not right' might've just knocked you up!"

Your still riding out your orgasm, but three has immediately snapped out of ir. "I didn't mean to, sorry, I didn't-" he's pulling out, immediately smacking two who finished a bit ago. "Its your car, drive. Fucking drive, go to the pharmacy." Two puts his hands up, but obeys.

"M' so sorry." Three says as he sits you up. "I promise I'm clean and stuff, and we're gonna grab plan b, get you some water too-"

"Its okay." You blurt. "Its okay, I know you didn't mean to." Biting your lip, you think about what happened. Of any other guys did this, it'd be horrifying, and you admit it was scary. But... it also wouldn't feel nearly as hot with anyone else. "It was good."

"Hell yeah it was." Both of you were so caught up, you didn't realize One stayed in the back of the car. "Wait till you get a ride on me, baby. I promise I'll be even more of a gentleman. Shit, I'll tell you before it shoot my load in you."

You should go out for late night drives more.

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #tw.dark content #yandere boys x reader #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #x reader #yandere boy #yandere x reader #drabble #smut drabble

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dumbgoondog · 19 days ago

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Sukuna NSFW Alphabet

MDNI +18 NSFW

Cw/Tw - cannibalism, blood, pregnancy

(A)ftercare - Your brains are mush, you’re covered in bruises, tears stain your face, wrists sore, bleeding in places from nails and biting, voice hoarse and dry. Then here he is, the disgraced one, the fallen, the king of curses, the man who fucked you like he hated you! Here he is gently scooping you up, massaging you, purring, his stomach mouth affectionately licking at any wounds. Carrying you to the bath, holding you to himself in the water, washing you gently, your body and hair. Using RCT output to ease any pain and aches. Praising you and treasuring you. PLEASE remember that your dom needs aftercare too. He needs to know you love him, that he wasn’t too rough, that he isn’t a monster to you. Please let him be gentle with you and you acknowledge it.

(B)ody Part - your hands. Not because it’s sexual but because if he goes blind he’ll know the gentle touch of your hands, he’ll know how you feel. How your hands don’t shy away from him, how you don’t hesitate to hold his hands. But also yes, he loves your hands grabbing at him, holding his face, stroking him, pinned beneath one of his hands.

(C)um - inside. Bella that your mouth or your hole(s). There’s a LOT so it will spill out and get every where. He likes watching it overflow

(D)irty Secret - this man has no dirty secrets. He tells it to you like it is and how he wants it… there is one thing tho. He wants to eat you. Like a religious act of worship and devotion to himself. You thought I was gonna say you yeah? Nah, that bitch has an ego. He will heal you after tho so no worries!

(E)xperience - None. Ryomen No Bitches Sukuna. I do not think he took any concubines, or consorts or anything of the sort. Pleasures of the mortal flesh… you think anyone could find pleasure in his visage without being batshit or forced? (Yorozu.) he would never force anyone too and would rather not be aware that they’re doing it for power but think he’s repulsive. that is until you.

(F)avorite Position - riding, facing him, on his throne. He likes watching you, and his stomach mouth likes licking you. This giant grabs you with all four arms and is using you like a fleshlight.

(G)oofy - He’s goofy. I see to many people make him so deadpan and stoic and “ooo I’m such a cool and sadistic top”. Bro bffr, this bitch incarnated and came out kicking his feet giggling goin “Women and children!!! Maggots for the slaughter!!!” And ripped. Off. His. Shirt. He was dancing dodging Fushiguro in their first fight. He took a bow when fighting Maharaga. He’s so silly. He praises and encourages his opponents in battle even! If something dumb happens or there’s a funny noise he’s gonna laugh. He wants you to laugh at him if he does something stupid too!

(H)air - thick messy pink hair, happy trail, and a trail down his balls too. Washed, semi groomed, smells pretty okay tbh. Light metallic undertone tho. It’s the blood of his foes.

(I)ntimacy - he fucks you like a wild beast. Growling, snarling, no words, biting, grunting. The moment you use a safe word? The moment somethings wrong? He’s stopping to make sure he hasn’t gone too far.

He’s also secretly a romantic. He knows flower language very well, and gets you flowers often(regardless of gender.) flower language and symbolism was big in the heian era, so was poetry. Sometimes he writes you poems never show anyone tho. They’re just for you.

(J)ack off - sometimes. Great stress reliever, passes time, helps when he’s bored, thinks it’s funny when he does it on his throne and there are his servants just having to stand on standby. What a power move.

(K)ink - blood, obviously. Biting and marking, duh. But hear me out on this. Primal. I’m talking hunt chase, both of you acting feral, like prey and predator. ABO that shit I guess. Submit to baser instincts, no talking just raw noises. Yeah I’m so right y’all don’t even know it(now you do tho)

(L)ocation - the throne is to obvious, the bed is a classic…and honestly I think it’s the bed. I got no reasons, just is how it is.

(M)otivation - working out, sparring, or after eating a big meal. Something about those activities puts him in the mood.

(N)o - He will not involve Uraume, he found them when they were a young kid and has helped raise them. Even if not related he was a late teen/young adult and he raised them from bein little

(O)ral - No, he HATES putting you in his mouth cause you taste baaaaddd. Fuck he loves eating, sucking, licking, he’s a hungry man. A big hungry man. Any position, anytime, let him use his stomach mouth. He knows it’s big and his teeth are sharp but god he loves having you ride his tongue and kiss you, watch you squirm.

(P)ace - he’s rough, hard, and a medium pace. Fast isn’t always good, especially when he likes being precise with every thrust. Feeling you squeeze and his tip bullying into you.

(Q)uicky - sometimes, it only if he’s getting to eat or suck you off. Quickys don’t work when you’re as big as him, you need prepping! He wishes though. He’s kinda a perv cuz he wants you smell like him and full of his cum often.

(R)isk - he’s up to try new things! There are some things he doesn’t understand and might make fun of tho. Like feet. He feels like a guy who mocks feet lovers. He doesn’t want to try it, he doesn’t care he “might” like it, he thinks it’s stupid.(his loss tbh)

(S)tamina - Much to the horror of everyone, like Kenjaku, he hasn’t tapped out ever. Despite his sweating and panting he isn’t done. Tbh he might have more stamina than Kenjaku. I need Sukuna bitching Kenjaku…

(T)oys - he fucking loves watching you use toys on yourself, not much on himself tho. He’s a freak fr fr cuz he got you plugs so after he’s cum in you he’ll plug you up. You better believe they’re custom too, it’s his blood as a jewel on the end. He’s so smug about it.

(U)nfair - as much as he loved teasing or you being a brat, he’s pretty patient but once he’s ready to go it all stops. He does like teasing you in public and some light humiliation in front of friends!

(V)olume - Growls. Grunts. Groans. Feral noises. He’s not loud loud, but he ain’t quiet. For any passing by it sounds like an animal is fighting someone in there.

(W)ild Card - he doesn’t have a pregnancy kink. Let me make that very clear. However. If he can get you pregnant expect his hands on you constantly. He’s super protective and clingy, always needs to be touching your belly. It will get annoying, cause he won’t let you piss alone. He’s also stealing titty milk. He says it’s to help you and the baby but you know he’s just a little freak. Back to the baby tho. He genuinely might start hiding the bad that he does because for once he’s like “I’m not destroying or cursing, I’m creating life, something precious.” He does have some outbursts tho and might go on rampages cuz he’s so stressed, scared, and full of emotions. He NEVER takes it out on you tho.

(X)-ray - it’s that ancient Japanese thong. He refused anything else. It’s comfortable, breathable, and one of the one things that doesn’t squeeze the life out of his dicks.

(Y)es - Worship roleplay, sacrifice roleplay, he likes it! Him being THE Ryomen Sukuna, and getting to play into that is fun! He’d be up for a “captured the king of curses and having your way with him” roleplay too.

(Z)zz - Cuddle up after a bath, eat a bit, and then he’s snoring. Or is he practicing his bear impression? Either way get comfy, if you’re not sleeping, you sure as hell aren’t leaving.

#goon dog #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #smut #x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #headcanon #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #true form sukuna #heian sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader

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paroslineage · 2 months ago

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Insanity

Chapter 2 : Torture Avails

Featuring : The Salesman x F!Reader.

TW : ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT, HARASSMENT (Not by the Salesman), CRUDE REMARKS, BAD LANGUAGE, EXPLETIVES, MENTIONS OF TORTURE, THE SALESMAN COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNINGS, DARK THEMES.

Do not read if you feel uncomfortable with the above terms given.

The characters do not belong to me except the reader. This is an original plot idea do not steal or modify the scenario created down below.

Summary : After putting you to sleep, he stealthily made his way to the bastard of a boss to pay him a sweet visit.

Masterlist.

Previous >> Chapter 1 : The Snapped Thread.

After making sure you were asleep wrapped up like a comfy burrito and giving you a sweet fond kiss on your temple. He sets out to the company you worked at and eerily enters like he owned the company and looked up to see the the topmost floor still lit up at 2:00 a.m. and enters the elevator as as the door was about to close he gave feral grin before the elevator doors closed fully.

As you slept, curled up in the safety of your home, the Salesman’s mind raced. The sight of your distress had awakened something dark and primal inside him, something that couldn't be soothed by words alone. The idea that anyone—especially someone in a position of power—had made you feel small, worthless, had pushed him past the point of reason.

The elevator doors opened with a ding and he walked like a cat, silently and stealthily as he made his way to your boss's office. He had spent years working in the shadows, navigating the dangerous and deadly games of life, but tonight, he wasn’t going to be playing games. Tonight, he was a man on a mission.

Inside the cabin the boss, Mr. Park ever being the perverted man was watching pornography in the vicinity of his office with blinds closed and tie loose.

How unprofessional...

Reaching your boss’s cabin, he didn’t hesitate. He walked right in, his expression eerily calm, his voice low and menacing. “You’ve caused my jagiya pain. And now you’ll pay for it."

He quietly closed the door and locked it and creeped towards the man who was now shaking in his boots his eyes widening in fear. But before he could speak, the Salesman was already on him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his chair with terrifying ease.

“You think you can treat my jagiya like that huh and now I'll do the exact things you did to her asshole.."

The Salesman’s voice was laced with a eerie calmness but feral eyes laced with calculated rage.

The room was silent except for the sound of your boss’s frantic breaths. He tried to beg, to plead, but the Salesman wasn’t listening. With a quick, brutal movement, he threw him into the chair, his eyes locking onto the trembling figure before him.

"You think she doesn’t matter? That her pain doesn’t mean anything?” The Salesman’s voice was barely a whisper now, but the intensity behind it made it feel like a roar. “I will make you understand. I’ll make you feel every ounce of the fear she felt today. Every ounce of her suffering."

He pulled a butterfly knife from beneath his suit blazer, the cold metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The knife was a symbol, not just of death, but of power—the power to take control of a situation, to bring someone to their knees. The tip pressed against your boss’s throat as he froze in fear.

“Do you know what it feels like to be powerless?” the Salesman whispered madly calm. "To feel like your whole world is against you, like you’re nothing? Let me show you."

He made a tiny but devastating slit on his throat causing him to gurgle and choke on his own blood , but the threat was enough. Your boss shook uncontrollably, sweat dripping down his face. The Salesman could see the fear, the desperation. He could feel the energy shift, the man who had once held all the power now reduced to a quivering shell.

Gore Warning

After what felt like an eternity, the Salesman made another move, but this time he gouged his eyes out, the ones that leered at you perversely. His gaze never left your boss, as he did the grotesque job.

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving your boss a broken man, both physically and emotionally shattered now that he had no eyes, nor hands and a cut tounge and lastly a chopped off the penis lay on the floor like a limp sausage, as his corpse lay on the lavish office chair. He had picked the wrong woman to mess with and now he had paid with his life.

Before going out completely he deleted teh footage if the camera and leaving behind the pathetic bastard's corpse to rot.

back at your apartment, the Salesman returned quietly, slipping back into the room where you lay asleep. His expression was unreadable, but there was a dark satisfaction in his eyes, knowing that no one would dare harm you again. He crawled back into bed beside you, pulling you close without a word, as if shielding you from the world’s cruelty with his very presence.

You slept peacefully, unaware of the violence that had unfolded in your absence, while he watched over you, the weight of his actions never settling in his chest along with the blood specks on his pristine white collar. He had protected you in the only way he knew how. And he would do it again, if necessary.

For you.... Only for you...

#fem reader #salesman squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game #gong yoo x reader #squid game 2 #gong yoo #dark #tw blood #tw death #the salesman x reader

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cozykali · 10 months ago

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Heartbeats (Astarion’s POV)

I downloaded Baldur’s gate 3 and immediately feel for this sexy vampire the moment he tackled me to the ground and held a knife to my neck. I’m in act 2 right now (no spoilers!) and the brainrot is BAD. I’ve read some amazing period sex fics involving Astarion but I wanted to craft one from his perspective. Let me know your thoughts!

Master list can be found here!

Pairing: Astarion x fem Tav/reader

Rating: SMUT! NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Words: 4700

TW: (this fic is FLITHY), mentions of death and dying, biting (duh), drinking blood, period sex, blood kink, oral (fem receiving), unprotected P in V, kissing, fingers, stalking, multiple Os, passing out, blood-loss, mentions of past torture/trauma, tension, begging, fluffy ending, ‘who did this to you?’,

Notes: Tav and Astarion have been travelling together for a few weeks. No romance scenes have happened yet, but she allows him to feed on her nearly every night. She hasn’t seen his scars yet. Tav is on her period and it’s making her vampire friend go crazy. Tav has feelings for Astarion but hasn’t acted upon them. This story is told from Astarion’s perspective. Tav can be any race or class you want (probably not durge though).

Bonus: Check out this massive playlist I made inspired by Astarion!

The fading fire crackled softly; its once licking flames now reduced to gentle, glowing embers. A thin line of smoke ascends into the damp air that coats the earth in a delicate layer of cool dew.

Astarion lies beside the fire on his bedroll, flat on his back, with his arms slightly splayed at his sides. Most nights, he is grateful that he doesn’t need sleep like his companions do. He can immerse himself in the peaceful sounds of the night, meditate, slow his breath, and calm his mind without slipping into unconsciousness. This ability had saved his life on more than one occasion.

However, tonight is different. Tonight, he wishes for sleep to claim him. He longs to drift away and escape the torment of the spell unknowingly cast upon him by Tav. He turns his head to gaze through the soft light of the fire in her direction.

Tav is laying on her side facing the fire, her mouth slightly open as she emits soft snores barely audible over the crackling flames. But what troubles Astarion tonight is her scent. It wafts through the acrid smoke of the fire like a gentle breeze through a sail, sweet as usual, but it’s currently mixed with blood and musk.

Astarion has been avoiding Tav for the better part of two days now. Whenever she drew near, he held his breath and averted his gaze. He knew he must keep his distance from her, because the alternative would be ripping her apart, which would not win any favors with the rest of the party.

Tav has also been careful around him. She must know that he can sense her menses. Despite inviting him to feed on her each night for nearly two weeks, tonight she did not proposition him, nor the night before. Last night, his attempt to catch a deer had been futile, leaving Tav as his last meal.

Lying on his bedroll, Astarion stares up at the stars, after a seemingly endless eternity for an immortal being, he hears Tav stir slightly. He glances over at her curiously, hoping she doesn’t notice his gaze. She lets out a quiet groan, clutching her lower stomach before curling into a fetal position, her face contorted in pain. Moments later, she slowly starts to rise.

Tav stumbles to fetch a flask of water, guzzling it down greedily. Astarion envies her ease in quenching her thirst while his own thirst rages inside him. Before long, he senses her absence, her scent growing fainter. He debates whether to leave her to sort herself out, but the primal urge to hunt and stalk his prey cannot be ignored.

Rising slowly, Astarion follows her scent through the trees to a nearby stream. His movements are fluid and silent as he approaches her. Tav is kneeling in front of the water, wringing out a blood-soaked cloth.

"Seems such a waste to wash that delicious blood away, darling," Astarion's voice, silky and smooth as velvet, slices through the night like a dagger. Tav lets out a startled squeal, spinning to face him.

"Astarion!" Her voice cracks with surprise as she stumbles back, but his hand shoots out to steady her, his touch cool against the small of her back as he prevents her from falling into the rocky stream.

His gaze is locked onto Tav's eyes, wide with astonishment, her pupils are dilated so only faint rings of color remain around dark voids. With his keen elven senses, he can hear the rapid thrum of her heart beneath her chest. Releasing her gently, Astarion steps back, his posture graceful and poised.

"Sorry, my dear," he says, softening his tone to one less intimidating. "I was merely ensuring no creatures were stalking you in the night as you wandered off. There are far worse dangers in these woods than bears, you know?"

"You mean like you?" Tav's words are sharp, but Astarion detects the faint quiver of her bottom lip.

"I just prevented you from bashing your skull on those wet rocks, and this is the gratitude I receive?" Astarion scoffs.

"I wouldn't have nearly slipped if you hadn't snuck up on me, asshole," Tav retorts, pushing him in the chest, though his feet remain firmly planted.

"Oh, my, you look adorable when you're angry," Astarion can’t help but smirk at her.

Tav lets out a frustrated grunt, attempting to stomp away, but Astarion catches her arm before she can pass him. Confusion clouds her face as she searches for an explanation for his unusual behavior. The facade of his usual sassy indifference had vanished, replaced by a tumult of desire and longing.

"Are you here to bite me?" Tav's voice trembles, strained as if she’s fighting back a scream. "I thought you were better than that. You promised me you wouldn’t feed on me unless I asked you to."

Astarion reaches out and takes the wet cloth from her hand, the hunger gnawing at him like a demon. Shamelessly, he presses it to his face, inhaling deeply. His vision is blurred, his head swimming in the intoxicating scent of her body that lingers on the fabric.

"Astarion, knock it off! You’re freaking me out," Tav snaps, snatching the cloth back and tossing it into the dirt.

"Tav," he whimpers, hating the desperation in his voice. Slowly, he releases her wrist, turning away to pinch his brows in an attempt to ease the splitting headache caused by her overwhelming scent.

"What in the hells is wrong with you?" Tav's voice remains cold, but concern flickers in her eyes as she speaks. She feels sorry for him.

Astarion straightens his stance, clearing his throat. "I apologize that I disturbed you. I’m not thinking straight," he announces before turning to walk back to camp.

"Wait," Tav said, and he freezes.

"I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. That I haven’t asked you to bite me the past few nights. I know you must know I’m on my period," she admits, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I didn’t know how you felt about it. I can see now that it’s driving you to madness, but I thought ignoring it was the best course of action. It’s embarrassing, really, and I’m having terrible pains in my stomach."

Astarion closes the distance between them in two swift strides.

"It’s hard to see you like this, so crazed with hunger, and I…" Tav's words falter as Astarion gently places his hand under her chin, lifting her face to meet his.

"Shh, Tav, my sweet. You’re going to put me in a second grave," he murmurs.

To his surprise, Tav presses her face into his with a gentle kiss, and Astarion's eyes close as a deep growl rumbles from his chest.

Tav removes her lips, "I’m sorry that was stupid of me to…" but Astarion wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing her body against his. He kisses her ravenously. His sharp fangs scrape softly on her bottom lip. A sensation of an unraveling overwhelms Astarion as he kisses Tav. It's a mixture of desire, longing, and perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. This feeling is unfamiliar to him, stirring emotions he's long kept buried beneath his cool exterior.

She relaxes in his arms, sinking deeper into his kiss. Her hand reaches up to ruffle his soft white curls while the other slips under his linen shirt, exploring the ridges and lines of his abdomen.

As they momentarily break their kiss, Astarion feels a rush of dizziness. He gently brushes her hair away from her neck and nuzzles into the curve of her shoulder. His tongue traces the faint marks on her skin, remnants of the nightly feedings he's had days prior. Despite the hunger clawing at him, he restrains himself from indulging further.

His hands, trembling with desire, slide down to the hem of Tav's shirt. He breathes against her ear, his voice a husky whisper, "May I?" Without a word, she responds by lifting her arms, granting him permission. In one smooth motion, he pulls the shirt over her head, revealing her skin. Astarion’s hands cup her breasts. The soft sound she emits as his mouth finds her nipple is music to his ears.

"Please, I need to taste you." He pleas between nibbles and licks on her chest. He no longer feels ashamed by his desperation.

"Oh, Astarion." Tav smiles, "You look so pretty when you beg."

“Gods," he groans, then steps back to remove his shirt before kneeling to the ground in front of her, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. "Tav," his voice is deep and soft, "I beg you." His hands reach out to grab her waist. "Let me taste you." He rests his forehead softly on her bare stomach. She places her hands on his and slides them down, encouraging him to remove her pants. Astarion is nearly trembling with anticipation as he helps her step out of her garments.

"Hold on," she stops him before he rips off her underwear. The bloodied rag that was freshly changed before he found her, was now soiled again with arousal and blood. "Should we find somewhere more comfortable?" She offers him her hand to help him rise back up.

Astarion feels lightheaded for a moment as he returns to his feet. However, as soon as he regains his balance, he scoops Tav up and carries her with remarkable speed to a clearing near the stream, where the ground is more sand than rocks. He lays Tav down on her back. He crawls towards her slowly, until his thigh is pressed firmly against her sex. As he lowers himself to kiss her once more, he gently hooks his other leg under hers and slides it up slowly, allowing her legs to part for him.

"Astarion?" She whispers to him when their kiss breaks, "You can feed on me tonight if you like."

He doesn’t even recognize the deep, feral growl that escapes his throat in response. "I was so hoping you would say that darling."

Astarion kisses his way down Tav’s stomach. She squirms at the feeling of his fangs brushing lightly on her ribs. He catches the waistband of her undergarments between his teeth and slides them down her legs to remove them.

He stops to hover over Tav for a moment now that she’s fully undressed. He savors the look she’s giving him through hooded eyes. Pausing, he appreciates the beauty of her bare skin splayed before him, relishing her scent before he consumes her.

"You’re too good to me, my pretty thing. I don’t deserve this, and I don’t deserve you." Astarion remarks before his head dips between her legs.

Astarion flattens his tongue and licks her once slowly, bottom to top. Tav tastes unbelievable. It still tastes like her blood, metallic and rich, but it’s enhanced with the flavor of her slick arousal, the must of her sweat, the flesh of her womb. If the blood in her veins is his water, his life source, the blood between her legs is like the finest of wines.

The hums and moans that leave Astarion's throat as he devours her are so animalistic, he can hardly hear Tav’s whines. He licks up every drop until she is clean then sticks his tongue deep inside her searching for more. His nose rubs in a side-to-side motion, pressed firmly against her apex, as his tongue explores.

"Oh gods, Astarion!" Tav gasps. He feels a slight sting on his scalp as she grabs a fistful of his silver curls while rocking her hips to match the speed of his tongue.

"I need more," Astarion rasps. His lips close around her bud He slides two slender fingers inside of her and starts pumping them in and out, coaxing out more blood. Her moans fill his ears like a siren’s song, adding to his pleasure. He can feel her insides tightening around his digits.

"Astarion. I…" Tav’s sentence is cut off by a wail of pleasure. He can smell the ecstasy flooding her blood, hear her heart pounding in her chest, and feel her body spasm and quake where he touches her. He doesn’t change the pace of his tongue or hand, dragging out her orgasm until she is panting and spent. He removes his fingers from her to lick them clean like a cat and notices a small trickle of blood leaking out of her.

"You may have just finished, darling, but I am not done yet. Nothing compares to the sound of my name cried from your lips, and I intend to hear it again." Astarion’s face dips back down to clean her folds. The amount of blood he can get from her body is not nearly enough to fill him. He needs to feed soon, a real meal, a pint of blood or more, not just a taste. But it can wait; the taste is too divine to stop.

Astarion hooks his arms under her thighs and flips onto his back, pulling her with him in one smooth motion. He grabs her hips as he forces her to a sitting position on his face, drinking her in. She shrieks and tries to pull away.

"Astarion, I need a minute. It’s too much." He releases his hands and stares up at her face with mid concern while she hovers over him. He tries to imagine how he looks to her right now.

"Can I ask you to be my mirror again, love?" He recalls the evening Tav found him looking at his empty reflection.

She studies him. "Your pretty face is absolutely covered with blood," she states. "Your lips are puffy and swollen. Your skin is thin and pale, paler than usual. Then there are your eyes…" she pauses, "they’re so red right now that they nearly glow in the light of the stars. There is nothing human, or even elf, left in them. They are the eyes of a monster."

Astarion grins wide, displaying his sharp fangs to her, "I am a monster, dear. Now can you please let me get back to consuming my prey?" His tongue extends from his mouth to lap against her swollen sensitive skin.

Tav tilts her head back and moans, exposing the full length of her gorgeous neck. Her back arches as she lowers herself onto his lips. Astarion grumbles in satisfaction when the taste of her dances on his tongue again. He grabs her thighs, in case she decides to pull away again, but instead she lowers onto him more, smothering him. She rocks against him, rubbing herself against his mouth and nose.

His lungs burn slightly, but he doesn’t need to breathe air to survive; it’s just a matter of an unconscious habit from before he turned into a vampire spawn. He needs air in his lungs to be able to speak, and it’s slightly uncomfortable if his lungs go without air for extended periods of time. He represses the memories of torture he had to endure over the centuries, where Cazador would deprive him of air for days just to watch him struggle. Astarion silently scolds himself for focusing on his lungs when his attention should be on the woman on top of him.

Tav bends her back further and places her hand on his waste to steady herself. Her hand brushes against the swollen bulge in his leather pants. His other primal urge is nothing more than an annoyance compared to his crazed lust to feed. But Astarion doesn’t protest when she starts to pet him through his pants as she continues to use his face like a toy. His pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.

"Astarion!" His name sounds like a symphony when it exits her body. She collapses forward, cradling his head with her arms. He drinks her in, savoring all his senses. His hands run up and down her bare thighs that seem to burn with heat. She rolls off him and lands in the sandy dirt of the bank, lying flat on her back beside him. They breathe in sync, shallow and hard.

"Tav, I…" Astarion pants, still laying on his back. "I need to feed."

"I know, I told you that you could. It’s not enough, right? Down there I mean. I figured as much. Why didn’t you just go for my neck in the first place? Why starve yourself on tiny mouthfuls when you can just bite me?"

"The taste," he whispers, "It’s addictive. I can’t stop." He swipes a finger between her legs and places the pad of it against his tongue and groans.

"Astarion?" Tav rolls onto her side to gaze into his eyes. She places her hand against the puncture marks on her neck from his fangs. "Bite me."

Astarion rises to his feet. Stars briefly dance across his vision, then fade. He is again reminded of the throbbing of his groin and decides to remove his confining leather pants and exposes himself to her. It seems only fair to be as naked as she is.

Tav’s eyes bulge and her jaw slacks as she stares at him. She props herself up on her elbows and slowly opens her legs to him. The wanting look she gives him is the closest thing he’ll get to a reflection of his own eyes. He waits, tension coiling in his muscles in anticipation as he searches her expression for the words he longs to hear.

"Darling, I am supposed to be the one looking at you like a feast laid before me, but here you are, looking at me like I’m a fresh baked pie. I could practically wipe away your drool." He smirks down at her. His hand lazily strokes his length to tease her.

Tav's lips form the word "Please," her voiceless plea echoing in the quiet night.

"Please what, my pet?" Astarion teases, his voice low and filled with anticipation, as he listens to the rapid rhythm of her heart, quickening like a drumbeat.

"Please. I want you to bite me while you fuck me." Her voice deepens, her eyelids are heavy with lust. Astarion’s stomach flips, and he pounces onto her like a fox catching a mouse.

"Such a filthy little mouth you have." He tuts. While he arranges himself over Tav. It's a familiar position that they have practiced nearly every night since she invited him to feed on her, only this time they are skin to skin. His face lingers over her neck, his breath cools her blazing skin. The tip of his shaft is posed at her entrance. She bucks her hips in response, and he sinks into her partially, then withdrawals.

"You are mine." Astarion whispers into her neck. Pressing his lips to the partially healed wound from his last bite as he enters her again, sinking his entire length into her. Tav cries out in response, but he doesn’t move.

"Astarion, please," She whines. He raises himself onto the palms of his hands to look at her. Her eyes are glossy, tears are forming in the corners.

"Tav, Darling, you look so pretty when you beg." He echoes her earlier words. He wishes he could hold out a little longer to see how far he could tease her until she breaks, but his need to feed is too intense. He starts slowly pumping in and out. Her eyes close and her mouth opens wide in pleasure. She feels amazing, so tight, so soft, so wet with blood and arousal.

Tav places her hands on Astarion’s back and digs her nails in, only to pull away quickly when she feels the bumps of the scars she hasn’t yet seen. She opens her mouth to mention it but he quickly covers it with his blood stained lips. His tongue slips past her lips and moves with the same rhythm of his thrusts. She moans into his mouth as his pace quickens. Then he breaks her kiss to purr into her ear, ‘Do you taste yourself on my lips, beautiful? It’s delicious, isn’t it? You taste divine.’

Tav shivers beneath him and lets out a sob. His lips brush down her neck. Astarion snarls to expose his sharp, elongated canines then grazes them against her throat, ready to strike. His thrusts never stop, slamming into her repeatedly, as he finally sinks his teeth into her neck and sucks her blood.

"Oh fuck, Astarion!" Tav releases a scream and falls apart under him. Shaking and panting while grinding against him. He can taste the electricity of her climax surge through her blood as her heart beats with a steady rhythm, allowing the blood to flow through her veins until it reaches his mouth. Astarion feels a rush stronger than any drug, more enchanting than any spell or potion. Her walls spasm around him, while he slurps against her neck. He sucks her blood with intense force. Pinning her under him. He can’t stop.

After several moments of bliss, he notices she has gone completely still beneath him. It takes all his willpower to unlatch his fangs before he sits up quickly.

"Shit’." A wave of panic washes over Astarion as he inspects Tav. Her skin appears paler, almost gray. Her breaths come slow and shallow, and her heartbeat is faint and stuttering. Without hesitation, he scoops up her limp body and wades into the waist-deep waters of the nearby stream, gently lowering her in. The water feels warm against his skin, though he himself is generally cooler than most creatures. He hopes the temperature doesn’t send her body further into shock.

As he holds her in the water, Astarion's mind races with worst-case scenarios. He imagines having to speak with Withers to revive her, dreading the thought of explaining his actions to the rest of the camp. Tav won’t easily forgive him this time, he fears. He might be cast out or even killed. He curses himself for following her out here in the first place. She was right to avoid him these past few days.

Just as he begins to entertain thoughts of escape, Tav’s soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "Star?"

Relief floods through him. "Oh, thank the gods, Tav. I’m truly sorry. I got a little carried away." He holds her tighter against his chest, feeling her shiver against him.

"Cold," Tav manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Astarion carries her out of the water and gently sets her down in a patch of soft grass. He hurries to gather their scattered clothes, helping her dress into her pants and shirt. He wraps his own rumpled white shirt around her for extra warmth, then puts on his pants before rinsing the remaining blood from his face in the stream.

Returning to her side, Astarion finds her hugging her legs, the color slowly returning to her face. "Let’s get you back to camp near the fire. I’ll wake Shadowheart to see if she can heal you," he suggests, wrapping his arm around her.

Tav turns to him, her voice airy and soft. "No, I think I'll manage until morning." Astarion kisses her forehead as she embraces him, her hands rubbing slow circles on his back.

"Turn around," Tav demands, and he complies, allowing her to view the intricate scars covering his entire back. She traces them with her fingers. "What happened to you?" Her voice carries a tone of pity, and Astarion swallows a lump in his throat.

"It’s a poem," He explains calmly. "Cazador did it to me. He took his time. I don’t know what it says."

"Oh, Astarion, I’m so sorry," Tav responds with compassion that almost irritates him.

"You’re sorry?" Astarion snaps, turning to face her. "I nearly killed you tonight, and you’re sorry?" He immediately regrets the sharpness of his words. "No, Tav, I’m sorry." Pulling her into him, he collapses to the ground, and she lays her head on his bare chest.

‘Astarion, I…’ Tav starts to speak.

"Hush," he interrupts, holding a finger to her lips. "Listen." He tunes into the sounds of the environment around them—the rustling of tree branches in the breeze, the chirping of insects in the reeds, the rushing of water in the nearby stream. But the sound he wants her to hear isn’t external; it’s coming from within him. After several seconds, she jerks her head up from his chest to meet his eyes.

"Did… did I just hear your heart?" Her voice is filled with astonishment. "You have a heartbeat?" Her brows furrow in confusion as she searches his face for answers. "Is that another side effect of the tadpole? Like how you can walk in the sun?"

Astarion smiles at her. "Yes, you heard my heart beating. No, it’s not from the worm in my head. It’s from you, darling."

"What? How?" Tav’s confusion deepens.

‘Well, when I feed, especially if it’s a big meal, my body must circulate the fresh blood throughout it somehow. And in case you weren’t aware, I’ll give you a little anatomy lesson. I need blood in a certain area of the body to give you a performance like I did back there."

She stares at him in shock "So your heart will kickstart when you're full, or horny?"

"In simple terms, yes dear, and I do feel both of those right now. However, it only beats a couple times a minute, not like a living creature. Have you noticed the color return to my skin, and that my temperature is at least five degrees warmer than usual?"

Tav smiles softly as she lays her head back on his chest in silence, waiting to hear a soft thump again. "I can make your heartbeat," she whispers.

"Well Tav, it seems my heart belongs to you now," Astarion sighs. "I’ve never felt anything like that before. I’m practically drunk on you right now. When I told you were my first bite, I meant it and now I can’t imagine drinking the blood of anyone else. Not like I have many options anyways, no one else is exactly offering me their neck." She smacks him softly, and he lets out a chuckle before his face softens with worry.

"I don’t think it’s safe to do that again, though," He grumbles. "I nearly lost you." Tav looks up at him with sadness in her eyes. "I mean I would happily bed you again," Astarion continues, "and I still wish to feed on you if you allow it, once you're replenished, but I think we should keep dinner and sex separate from now on."

Tav scoots up to kiss his neck. Then rises to her knees and straddles him. Her hair forms a halo around her face as she looks down at him.

"What is Withers there for if we don’t use him once and a while. Plus, we have at least ten revival scrolls in the chest at the camp."

His heart beats again, slightly harder than the last time. "Are you giving me permission to suck you dry? You filthy little pup." His hands grab her rear, and he squeezes. "How did I get so lucky? Getting abducted by mind flayers seems to have been the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I mean, I've never felt anything like that either. When you were draining me of blood, I let it happen, I didn’t want it to stop. I was in a daze as I slipped away. To be clear, I don’t think the others will approve of paying 200 gold coins to Withers, or wasting revival scrolls that could be used during a fight, every time I come to your bed, but if it happens… I trust you to bring me back. I guess my heart belongs to you now too. Since it pumps the blood through me that keeps you alive and thriving."

Astarion inhales deeply. "Well in that case, darling," his hand reaches up to grab her neck and he pulls her head down so her ear touches his lips "I think you're beating me three-nil in climaxes this evening. And I intend to double your score at the very least, and maybe get a point on the board myself before the sun rises." He glances down and notices a blood stain seeping through her pants onto his. He realizes didn't put her underwear back on nor replace her blood rag when he dressed her earlier. "Also, it looks like you might need a little cleaning up again, my love."

END

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fangdokja · 2 months ago

Text

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Fem. Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,926

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.

He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.

“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.

“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.

Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.

“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.

“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”

His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”

The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.

“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.

────────────

It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.

"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."

You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.

You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.

It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.

The sight froze him in place.

You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.

And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.

His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?

Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.

You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.

He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.

After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.

He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.

But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.

It was about possession.

He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.

He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.

When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.

By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.

But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.

Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.

When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he’d been punching something—or someone.

You never asked questions like that.

Maybe you should have.

Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.

It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.

He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.

But when it does?

You won’t have a choice.

────────────

It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.

You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.

He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.

But then...

Then, he saw the change.

You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.

And then the name.

Daniel.

The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.

"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."

You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.

Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.

He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.

You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?

The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.

But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.

When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.

He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.

Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.

Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.

That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.

His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.

You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?

He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.

He wanted to destroy you.

You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.

The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?

“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.

You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.

“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”

That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.

There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.

It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.

“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

You cried. He didn’t stop.

Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.

The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.

You didn’t look at him.

Good.

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”

But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.

Something permanent.

────────────

He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.

Instead, he had punished you.

The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.

Except it was so much more.

Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.

“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”

It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.

In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.

It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.

Just the two of you, the way it had always been.

────────────

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.

He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.

But what was he supposed to do?

His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.

He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.

But he cared.

He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.

And that’s where the conflict lay.

Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?

Or would you hate him?

The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.

What was the point of waiting?

Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.

He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.

“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.

He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.

And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.

Until then, he’d bide his time.

But God help anyone who got in the way.

You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.

────────────

Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.

On the surface, things appeared normal.

He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.

And that was fine by him.

As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.

It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.

You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.

At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.

But then he noticed the reason.

It was another guy.

The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.

Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.

How fucking naive he’d been.

The longer he watched, the more he understood.

The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.

What infuriated him most was you.

You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.

You weren’t pushing the bastard away.

You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.

But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.

And then it happened.

You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.

That’s what he told himself.

He found you in an empty classroom.

And you weren’t alone.

────────────

The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.

You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.

The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.

Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.

His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.

He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.

But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.

This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.

This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.

He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.

That was his.

You were his.

The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.

He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.

It was a betrayal.

And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.

You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.

Now you were looking at someone else.

And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

He wanted to rip that expression off your face.

Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.

But because it wasn’t for him.

The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.

He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.

He wanted to destroy you.

Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.

He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.

And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.

The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.

────────────

You were letting it happen.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.

“Hey, man—”

The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.

“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.

He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.

“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.

He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.

“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.

Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.

But all you found was rage.

As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

You had betrayed him. Again.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.

No one else gets to have you. No one.

────────────

The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.

“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.

His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”

You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.

“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”

You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”

“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”

Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.

“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”

You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.

For proof that you were his, and his alone.

His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“Say. It.”

The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.

“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.

────────────

Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.

Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.

“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.

His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.

“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.

“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”

His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.

When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.

His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.

The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.

“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”

He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.

“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he’d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.

“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”

Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.

“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”

His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.

"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."

List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: N/A

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

Yandere! Older Brother & Little Sister

Novelette 1 : Sins of the Silent Heart

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

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harrysfluff · 3 months ago

Text

Choices

A/n: Hello! Lol I am currently writing my applications for PhD programs and need a break. This was a draft I had and wanted to polish up for you guys. Btw i haven't written anything with angst or really a plot in a hot minute so I'm sorry for the plot.

Tw: smut (p in v, unprotected sex), angst (couple fighting)

Harry's forearms came on either side of your head as your bare bodies touched one another. Your hands snaked their way down his ass, grabbing at him in tight clenches. The bedsheets were crumpled together towards the foot of the bed leaving both of you exposed to the cold room. "I think we would make cute babies," Harry smiled down at you, pushing his hips deeper into you.

Harry had recently become obsessed with babies. He had brought it up to you a few months ago and hadn't stopped since. Harry never was doing things in order since some people would have at least waited for a ring. "I just know you my person and this is exactly what I want with you in this moment," he said each time. It slowly wore down on you, and as you started to come around to the idea. Suddenly, you were also imagining a small bundle that was a mix of both of you.

You could feel his hard self push against your clit, giving a light sensation from the bud. You let out a heavy exhale from the feeling, while your hands move upward to his back. "I think so, too. They would have your eyes." Harry buried his face into the crook of your neck, sucking against the skin gently. You threw your head back into your pillow, giving him more access. "And hopefully my sense of humor," you tease.

"Oi," Harry lifted his head back up, "What did I do? I'm just trying to make love to the woman I love." He defended.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just love to tease you. You get all worked up!" You brought his face down to yours to share a kiss. “It’s cute,” you shared before your lips collided. You opened your mouth slightly to allow his tongue to slip through. The kiss deepened as you engulfed each other. You brought your legs up providing the perfect angle for Harry. Usually, the two participated in more foreplay. However, the feeling of him against your clit had built up a hunger for him inside of you. Taking the cue, Harry slipped himself in.

The feeling of him inside of you always made you realize just how empty you felt when he wasn't. You pulled your lips away from each other as Harry slowly rolled his hips into you. The gentle waves of him caused a growing intensity in you.

Harry's brow furrowed, "I wanna savor this." He lowered his face down again for another passionate kiss. "God, I wanna be inside you forever. Do you want me to be inside of you forever?"

"Yes," you exhaled. "Please never leave me."

It came out as a whine which always sent Harry into overdrive. He pulled away from you. The emptiness makes you shiver. Harry's hands grabbed onto your knees, spreading them. You were completely exposed to him, glistening in the light as some of you leaked onto the sheets. Harry pushed himself in again, this time with more speed and power. "Fuck. I'm going to fill you up with my cum. Wanna have my baby, don't you?" He brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing firm circles. The movement sent pulses through your body as your breaths became more shallow.

"Yes, please fill my tummy with you," you begged. The feeling radiated from your pussy reaching higher intensity with each thrust from him. "I wanna have your baby so bad, H."

Every time Harry hears those words from you, a primal feeling erupts. "I'm about to fill you up," he grunted. His movements are becoming increasingly faster. "Fuck," he gasped, slamming his hips into yours. "Oh Harry," you screamed out as you released over him. Harry collapsed on top of you, still staying inside of you.

He stayed there for a moment, before lifting his upper body from you. His skin was sweaty and you could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. "You said you never wanted me to leave," he smirked, slowly rolling his hips into you. “I just wanna make you sure you’re extra pregnant,” he laughed.

You giggled too, still in your post orgasm bliss. “I think I’m plenty pregnant. We haven’t left this bed all weekend and I’m full of your cum,” you said pushing him off you. Harry settled on his side, his hand being placed on your stomach. He began to trace his finger gently, his eyes stayed concentrated on it. “You know it doesn’t happen immediately, right?” You say.

“I know but this is just so perfect you know? Like this moment. I don’t know I like imagining our baby. I would take them down the street to that coffee shop. And I could get a bike!” His eyes came up to yours, beaming with excitement. “You know I’ve been thinking of getting one since I’m always renting one. I don’t know I could get one and then get one of those baby attachments so we could ride around together.” His mind rambled on, imagining himself riding around with a little one. He settled onto his back and you nestled yourself into his side. Harry’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close. “Either way it will be perfect. I’m winding down so I’ll have time and you’ll take off work -“

“Wait what?” You sat up, staring confused at him. You clutched the sheets around your chest, covering them from him.

“Yeah, I was thinking you could you know take some time off.”

“I didn’t know that. When were you gonna tell me you wanted me to quit?” You asked, starting to feel the heat in your face.

“Y/n I’m not asking you to quit I just think you should step back.” He defended. “I think it’s for the best if we can be there together in the beginning. And besides, it’s not like we need to worry about money.”

“But it’s not about money. It was never about that.” Your blood started to boil as you found your thoughts. “I’ve worked so hard for this between all my school and years at this company. I’m not gonna throw it all away because I have a family. I had this job before you and I’ll have it after you.” You hastily scooted off the bed and wrapped the sheets around you to hide your body from him.

“Y/n you’re not listening to me. I’m not asking you to quit. That’s not at all what I’m saying: I’m just saying we should both take a step back from work.” He pleaded in a gentle tone.

You walked right into your closet to grab some sweats. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to see your body. “Harry not everyone can just take time off,” you reply loudly before mumbling, “Not everyone is a fucking pop star.” You walk out to the bedroom to face him. “Besides why can’t you raise the kid? You have the time.”

Harry rubbed his face harshly. This is not how he envisioned the night ending. “You know what? Don’t take the time off. It’s fine I’ll raise the kid, it’s fine. I’m sorry I said you should back off. I didn’t think.” His tone was flat across each word as he spoke. He swung his legs to the edge of the bed, grabbing his underwear off the floor. His hands fiddled with the shorts, pulling them up his legs while his eyes stayed concentrated on the floor.

“Harry it’s not about that, I'm angry that you just assumed I would take time off,” you paused, trying to read his face. His brows were furrowed together and you could see he had clenched his jaw. "Like do you think that low of my job? Like are you just another out-of-touch celebrity? God the shit I put up with because of you. Listening to you complain about clothes and albums-"

His head snapped towards you, face hardened. "What the fuck? That was fucking mean Y/N and you know it." He stood up from the bed, grabbing his pillow and tucking it under his arm. "I'm gonna sleep in the guest room tonight. I need space right now."

You sighed, the guilt beginning to wash over you. Your face fell into your hands and you contemplated your next move. Following him downstairs would probably not solve anything, but going to bed angry at each other ate away at you. Your mind flashed Harry's face as he was storming out. He was angry and didn't want to even be near you. So much had changed in less than 15 minutes. Not wanting to antagonize him further, you crawled into bed almost engulfing yourself in the thick duvet.

The alarm on your phone went off as it did each morning. Having been use to Harry reaching over to you, you felt a pain in your chest when you were reminded of last night. Normally, he would have tried to pull your closer as you struggled out his grip to start your day. However, there was no struggle as you got out of bed.

You tried to slow your morning get ready as you were scared to go downstairs but yet it seemed to go over quickly. You planned to keep your head down heading out of the kitchen on the off chance he was there, and pick something up on the way to work. It was a solid plan till you got downstairs and saw no trace of him. You were grateful till you saw his car was gone in the garage. It was odd since Harry rarely drove in London and either walked or biked. You shrugged it off, not sure you could understand him right now.

Harry didn't message you all day. Each time your phone flashed a notification, you anxiously checked it wanting to see his name. You sent him a few messages admitting fault and wanting to reconcile yet there was no response. Now you were confused since Harry usually replied.

Turning your key into the door, you imagined him sitting on the couch. Perhaps he was waiting to see you in person to try and repair things. Yet, when you entered the home was undisturbed. There was no trace of him still. You wandered into the guest room and saw the bed messily disturbed. The pillow he had taken was still there. You walked over to it to hold it close to you. Inhaling, you smelled the comforting smell.

Just as you were setting down the pillow, you heard the door open and the sound of footsteps. Coming out of the room, you saw him pushing his shoes off. "Hey," you squeaked out. "I uh just wanted to say I was sorry last night. I should not have said that and I'm sorry." You gulped hard, your hands finding ways to fidget with each other. Harry's eyes came off the ground, peering back from you. They were still cold, and his lips were still in that hard-pressed line. "Harry please say something. I don't like it when you do the silent treatment to me." "I didn't want to say something I would regret," he said.

"Okay, that's fair but I'm sorry. I want to move past this, please." You came closer to him in an effort to reach out to him. However, as you came closer, he backed away from you.

"I'm not sure I'm quite as ready. You hurt me Y/n. Sometimes you're rude to me when we argue and last night crossed a line. I provide for us, for our family, and this is what I get? I understand you have a career but I do too and just because mine is different does not give you the right to belittle it." There was a pause as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Frankly, I don't know if I want to be with you right now. " Harry finally exhaled, regaining his composure. "Look I'm just here to grab some things. I need more than just a night in the guest bedroom." He pushed past you, walking up the stairs.

You stood there shocked and almost paralyzed. It wasn't until you heard him coming back down that you wiped the tears from your face. "Yeah, erm okay. I understand." You softly whimpered, wiping another tear. "I love you, okay? And I'm really sorry." You were struggling to find the words, burying your face in your hands.

Harry looked at you, his eyes softening at the sight. He would have wrapped his arms around you but felt his arms glued to the sides. There was a part of him that was reluctant to do so. "I'm sorry, too. I hope this isn't the end. I just need some time. That's all."

You nodded, wiping the tears more as you tried to compose yourself. "Yeah, I get it." You gave him a weak smile, watching him leave.

#harry fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot

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writteninlunarlight-years · 5 months ago

Text

I Have You Now

RadioApple X Reader

This is based on the song "Rule #34—Fish Inside a Birdcage", which is one of my all-time favorite bands. I have never written a poly story, but let's try it.

TW: AFAB Reader, Tentacles, Bondage, Sexual relations, Rough Sex, Polyamory, Voyeurism

The jazz club pulsed with electric energy, a tapestry of laughter and low, sultry whispers weaving through the air. Alastor had chosen this vibrant haven for a reason—it was the perfect backdrop to deepen his connection with Lucifer, a bond that had grown richer and more adventurous. They were both searching for new experiences to ignite the flames of their passion and tonight, they were ready to explore uncharted territories.

With a sly glint in his eye, Alastor had orchestrated a plan, putting out feelers for a captivating beauty who could match the formidable allure of both himself and Lucifer. And oh, how Mimzy had delivered.

Alastor had visited the enchanting woman alone on numerous occasions, each rendezvous filled with tantalizing anticipation and whispered secrets. But tonight was different; Lucifer had expressed a desire to join him, to meet the woman who had trapped Alastor’s thoughts and desires.

They held a sacred agreement in their unique relationship: no touching unless permission was granted beforehand. Alastor, the more primal of the two, had always taken the lead in selecting who would grace their bed. Still, this woman had become an irresistible obsession, drawing him back repeatedly. Lucifer craved a taste of her allure, and Alastor was eager to share.

As the lights dimmed, anticipation crackled, and a hush swept over the crowd. The stage bathed in a soft, seductive glow, and a striking sinner emerged, her silhouette draped in a deep red sequin dress that caught the light like shimmering embers. She gripped the microphone with effortless grace, her voice emerging as a breathy caress that wove through the jazzy notes, wrapping around each listener like a lover’s embrace.

The audience was spellbound, whistling and hollering, their enthusiasm palpable. Her body was a work of art—every curve and contour mesmerizing, her face a fascinating blend of beauty and mischief. But her voice, a sultry hymn that stirred something primal in the hearts of all present, truly captivated them.

How envious they would be if they knew that this intoxicating siren, whose soft melodies filled the room, would soon be screaming and begging in ecstasy between the two most powerful beings of hell.

As her set unfolded, each song seemed to heighten Lucifer’s intrigue. His eyes were glued to her as she danced with a sultry confidence, the sequins of her dress glinting and shimmering until, by the last number, it transformed into a daring bodysuit that left little to the imagination.

“She wears that when we meet her in the back…” Alastor’s warm breath ghosted over Lucifer’s neck, a stark contrast to the cool shivers that coursed down his spine at the sound of her voice. Nodding helplessly, Lucifer surrendered to the enchantment, finally understanding why Alastor had been so drawn to this woman, even without sharing a bed.

As Mimzy took the stage to gently usher away the hopeful souls desperate for the sinner’s attention, Alastor felt a thrill of anticipation. Tonight wasn’t just about his time with Y/N but about witnessing the intoxicating dance between Lucifer and this mesmerizing enchantress.

The night was still young, and the promise of passion loomed just around the corner, ready to unfold in a symphony of desire and exploration.

Helping Lucifer to his feet, Alastor guided him toward the VIP section of Mimzy's club, the air thick with anticipation and the heady scent of desire. As they entered, they were greeted by a living tapestry of beauty and seduction—Y/N and several other enchanting women glided gracefully between tables, their laughter and whispers mingling with the sultry jazz that filled the room. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the soft sounds of debauchery, a siren call for those ready to indulge.

Alastor felt a primal thrill surge through him; if Lucifer felt the same magnetic pull toward Y/N, he was ready to bring her home with them—Mimzy's rules be damned. Lucifer sank into one of the plush green armchairs, enveloped in comfort, while Alastor stood protectively behind him, his hand resting gently on his shoulder.

When Y/N locked eyes with them, it was as if a spark ignited between them. She was adorned in her stunning deep red sequin bodysuit, each facet glimmering as she moved. Her black strappy heels accentuated her long legs, and a bright red boa draped around her arms like a lover’s embrace.

Lucifer's thoughts spiraled into delicious fantasies of restraint and pleasure, envisioning all the ways he could tie her up, making her plead for his attention. Meanwhile, Alastor couldn't help but imagine the intoxicating sight of Lucifer and this captivating woman beneath him, utterly powerless and exquisite.

As she approached, Y/N gracefully settled onto Lucifer’s lap, her chest tantalizingly close to his face, and glanced up at Alastor with a playful pout on her candied lips.

“Oh, so he’s the one you brag about, Ali… He is handsome… such pretty porcelain skin…” Her perfectly manicured nails traced a delicate path down Lucifer’s cheek to the bowtie around his neck, tugging playfully.

The tension in Lucifer’s pants grew unbearable as he emitted a low growl, gripping the sides of his chair tightly to restrain himself from taking her right then and there.

“Alastor has spoken of you often, Miss Y/N, yet your beauty transcends mere words…” His voice was rich and husky, the evidence of his arousal only fueling her desires as she shifted, straddling him with a sultry grace.

“Hmmm, Ali seems to do a lot of talking. I am more of an actions woman myself.” She ran her hands along Lucifer’s arms, guiding them to her hips, her body pressing against him. A sweet, delicate moan escaped her lips as she ground against his growing need.

“My, my, you two! Had I known this visceral reaction would happen, I would have introduced you sooner,” Alastor said, his desire flaring hotter by the second.

She declined whenever he asked Y/N to be his courtesan, claiming Mimzy offered her everything she needed. But tonight, with Lucifer alongside him, he hoped to show her an unforgettable experience that would change her mind.

Mimzy approached, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “My, my, Alastor, planning to steal my most profitable soul by bringing your boy toy along?”

Alastor smirked, gently taking Y/N’s hand from Lucifer’s shoulder helping her to stand. As she rose, he assisted Lucifer, who was flushed and visibly aroused.

“Now, Mimzy, a real broker, doesn’t show all his cards right away,” Alastor teased, leading Y/N down the hallway toward her room. “We’ll be where I always end up when I visit.”

Y/N’s room was a sanctuary, secluded from the revelry of the club. Mimzy had taken special care to craft a space where her siren voice could enchant without distraction. As they entered, the ruby-red room was aglow with candlelight, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls.

“Hmmm, I hope you two like it,” she purred, pulling away from the men as she sauntered deeper into her domain. Her movements were languid hypnotic, and both men followed her with hungry eyes. She settled onto the bed, legs crossed, leaning back with a flirtatious head tilt.

“Alastor told me we would have company, so I pulled out a nice chair if someone wants to watch.” Her gaze locked onto Alastor, memories of their conversations about wanting to witness the passionate connection between him and Lucifer swirling in the air.

Alastor brushed past Lucifer before he could speak with a knowing smile, unbuttoning his tailcoat and flaring it behind him as he sat in the plush armchair. A lazy, lust-filled smile spread across his face, ready to indulge in the exquisite scene unfolding before him.

"Go ahead, my dear. She is all yours...for now." Once permission was granted, it was as if a dam had broken. Lucifer approached, his heart racing as he followed the sultry path the woman had taken to her bed. Standing before her, he gazed down at her alluring, half-naked form, the soft glow of candlelight accentuating every curve.

She looked up at him, her eyes ablaze with a fire rivaling the depths of hell. Slowly, Lucifer reached for the boa that draped around her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her skin as he pulled it into his hands, feeling the luxurious fabric slip through his fingers.

"Look at me. Don’t stop looking into my eyes. Right now, you are mine, all mine, so just give in to me." She nodded, entranced by his words, surrendering as he guided her gently down onto the plush bed.

“Hmmm, do be gentle with her, Lucifer. I plan to ravish you both the moment you have your fill.” The playful threat hung in the air, a compelling promise that sent shivers down their spines. Both panting softly, they exchanged heated glances. Lucifer preferred his first time with someone to be slow, savoring each moment.

With a delicate touch, he tied her hands gently with her boa, his fingers gliding down her body, eliciting soft trembles and shudders that only intensified the growing desire within him. Kneeling between her legs, he made sure Alastor could see every intimate moment unfolding.

Lucifer lifted her left leg, placed it on his shoulder, and kissed his way up her inner thigh, taking his time to savor her. Each kiss drew forth beautiful moans. Her lips parted slightly, releasing warm, misty breaths that hung in the air like an intoxicating perfume. Once he finished with the left leg, he mirrored his attentions on the right, each kiss a sweet torment.

With her hands bound, she couldn't tangle her fingers in his hair or grip his arms; she was entirely at his mercy. As he playfully nipped at her ankle, a small drop of blood pooled, and he licked it away, sending a thrill of sensation coursing through her, making her moan once more.

Alastor watched with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her unraveling, whether from the thrill of being watched or the raw power of Lucifer. He relished the pleasure blooming on both their faces.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, leaving her to whine in frustration. He teased, removing his tailcoat and tossing it aside with a flourish. Each pop elicited soft whimpers from her as he unbuttoned his bow tie and vest. “Y/N, you follow orders so well. No wonder Alastor likes you so much; he always loves to give commands.”

As the last button of his dress shirt came undone, he let himself fall gently atop her, supporting himself with his forearms beside her head. “So beautiful, blissed out, and I haven’t touched you yet. It’s true, you know, as Al said… I can change how big and thick it is on a whim, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” Her eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips as his words ignited her imagination.

“Hmmm, how would you like it to be that deep inside you? Rearranging your very insides?” He kissed her neck as he spoke, feeling her breath quicken beneath him. The contrast of his dirty words and sweet actions sent her spiraling into a realm of ecstasy she had never known.

“I think she would like that, Luci. She hasn’t even experienced my appendages yet; I’m sure that will prepare her nicely.” Alastor’s smirk was palpable as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the air thickening with anticipation.

Lucifer sat back on his haunches, eradicating his shirt, revealing his porcelain muscles glistening in the dim light. His soft, yellowed face reflected how utterly captivated he was by her. He undid his pants, kicking them off to reveal his desire, hidden only by a thin layer of fabric.

“Mhm, Lucifer, please... I want it...” Her voice was a sultry whisper, a plea that sent a rush through both men. She had only begged for a handful of guests, but Lucifer's power left her mind reeling, imagining how it would feel to have both of them at once.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, beautiful, and you already want my length inside you. How pitiful. Should I give it to you, Dolly?” He slid the zipper of her bodysuit down her back, knowing they both craved this connection, the thrilling anticipation of feeling one another before being taken by Alastor.

"Yes, please, please take me, then Ali, and you can play with me too..." Her voice was like music to both men's ears as the sentence caused both to moan deeply.

Alastor had eradicated his shirt, his dress pants opened, and his girthy cock out on display. Gentle, soft strokes from his hand as he continued to observe.

Lucifer had the bodysuit off and on the floor, Y/N's bare, beautiful body before him. He kissed her all over, avoiding the one place she needed him most. Letting a hot puff of air cover her sopping-wet pussy.

Finally, Lucifer allowed a hand to grace her folds and gather the slick that was pouring from her entrance. Rubbing her clit gently but at a firm pace, he watched her back arch, and her face contort in pleasure.

"Good girl, such a good girl, let go for me...need you nice and wet for me to fuck you." She babbled and nodded her high climbing. He added his other hand and worked her through not one but two orgasms with his hands alone.

To the side, Alastor moaned deeply at the sight. He couldn't lie. Lucifer was not just good with his forked tongue, but his hands, that of a creator could do magic all on their own. As he watched the slick cover Lucifer's thighs, he struggled to contain himself from going over there and taking them both.

Lucifer pulled away as your recent orgasm washed over you. He loved how your eyes rolled back and your tongue lulled gently out of your mouth. He released his length from his boxers, and he wasn't lying about his changing length.

Before both of your eyes, he had gotten longer and wider as he lined up at your dripping wet hole. Slowly, he entered and, with no patience to wait, bottomed out in you in one thrust.

Your beautiful scream turned moan had both demonic men alter to their demon forms as they listened to your pleas. Lucifer led your legs to his shoulders. As you hooked them behind his ears, he began at a brutal pace.

You felt him hit places that no other patron had hit before. Your eyes were lost in the back of your head as you babbled and begged for more.

The squelching sounds in the room only grew more rampant as Lucifer climbed to his peak. His words of praise and affirmation only spurred you both on.

Alastor growled demonically beside you two as he watched you both become undone. His possessive nature climbed to its rightful place as you both screamed in ecstasy.

Lucifer gently pulled out as soon as you were filled to the brim with his golden seed. He admired how beautifully he leaked out of you. Holding your legs up where they were around him just moments before, he looked at his partner and nodded him over.

"Come look at how pretty gold looks in her..." Alastor hummed; as he stood, his length was fully erect, and he slid off his pants. Climbing in the bed behind his partner, he leaned over his shoulder to look at your cunt.

"Hmmm, truly beautiful Y/N, my sweet boy made you so dirty. Lucifer, flip her around and clean her up, will you." Lucifer nodded and helped get you on your hands and knees. As he lay between your legs, he guided you down on his face and began to devour you.

Once your mouth opened to moan at the overstimulation, Alastor had his cock buried in your throat. He held your hair tight, forcing you to look up at him through your teary eyelashes.

"mhm, look at you, Y/N, you look so beautiful fucked out like this, with Lucifer's pretty face buried in you. Even more beautiful with my cock down your throat" Alastor gripped you tighter as his horns grew larger, and some black slimy tendrils appeared around him.

Your eyes widened as he caressed your face, and the moan on your pussy alerted you that he was also caressing Lucifer.

"Mhm, both of you will be good for me now, and I will give you a treat," Lucifer and you moan, nodding softly as Alastor's tendrils explore your bodies. The more curious of the black slime teasing your ass and gripping around Lucifer's hardening cock.

Alastor guided your head on his cock roughly, gaining more and more speed as he chased his high. The force of his thrust down your throat causes you to rub yourself on Lucifer's face more, making a moaning mess out of both of you.

As climax fast approached for Alastor, he stilled you. He let his cock sit deep in your mouth, a sinister smile painted on his face.

"Bite down, and I will kill you, understand," Before you had time to react to Alastors words, a cold, slimy tendril was entering your ass. Your eyes widened as more tears filled them from the way you were expanded. Once you were full, Alastor began to pump in you again.

Lucifer was gasping and crying under you; Alastor not only had a tendril stroking his cock tightly to mimic your sweet pussy, but he had two holding his legs up and apart so another one could enter him as well.

You were overstimulated and covered in sweat and sex. You had never felt so full and desired. As Alstor used your face and fucked Lucifer into eating you harder, it all became too much for you three.

Before long, three long moans exited you all, static popped, music played, and screams were heard. Each of your complete demon forms taking precedence from the shattering orgasms that filled you all.

Lucifer's cock throbbing from spilling two loads, had managed to cum down your whole back and ass. You covered Lucifer's face in your juices as overstimulation sent you over the edge. Alastor had you covered in his seed from your head to your chin, using his clawed hands to gather some and shove it in your mouth.

Once the appendages melted away, you felt a rush of exhaustion consume you as the suffocating boa constraint was removed. You were laid gently between Lucifer and Alastor, two figures who felt familiar and exhilaratingly dangerous.

Lucifer's warm and gentle hands tangled in your hair, combing through the tousled mess that echoed the wild night you had shared. His touch was soothing, starkly contrasting to Alastor's, whose fingers danced dangerously across your hip, tracing intricate patterns that sent shivers through your body.

As dawn's first light crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the remnants of your night together, you began to pack your belongings. The once vibrant space now felt barren, stripped of its life in anticipation of the next woman who might step into your place as Mimzy's best voice. Yet, as you folded clothes and gathered trinkets, you realized your actual place was not on a stage basking in the spotlight. No, your heart sang harmoniously with these two men, creating a more intimate and profound melody.

"Come on, you two," Alastor urged cooly, a grin spreading across his face. "We don’t have all day! The sooner we return to the hotel, the sooner we can go for round two."

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with mischief at Alastor's teasing words. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he led you toward your new beginning, an uncharted territory filled with promise and passion, where the music of your souls could intertwine once more.

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xoblondie · 5 months ago

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The Forbidden Fruit

TW : 18+, stalkerish, dark!Mattheo, religious undertones, non-con content, prey/predator metaphors etc. Nothing is actually explicit but it’s all intended (HEAVY symbolism).

Temptation.

The cardinal sin that ravaged through his body, mimicking his blood flow. Taunting him with every movement you made. A war was ravaging inside Mattheo’s mind and body. A fight for control of his actions as he observed your every move.

A fight he was currently loosing, as he watched you amongst the crowd of your peers, moving seamlessly amongst them. Like you weren’t the only thing plaguing his mind no matter what he did. He couldn’t escape your fingers he found himself wrapped around. And you were completely oblivious to his unholy intentions and his lingering stares.

To him, you were as pure as powdered snow; you were soft, delicate and easy to fall into. Creating a mixture that made his mouth water with the thought of you. You were an elixir that he found himself hooked on, like an addict chasing a high.

To you, he was dark and corrupted. With bloodied knuckles and his teeth bared to the world, you knew he was bad news for you. His violence had no place amongst your peace, even if he had a peculiar place within your heart.

But what he wanted, he always got and he knew you were too innocent of heart to ever understand his underlying intentions. You were a lamb caught by a timber wolf. Purity that would be forcefully taken by a predator, no matter how much you fought back. A lamb would never grow up and grow the pointed canines it needed to protect its wool. And like a predator he would lure you away from the safety of your herd, into his sharp fangs.

In the later hours of the night, in a large leather chair perched by a fireplace, he watched your soft locks frame your face, accentuating the natural pout to your plump lips. You read your book as if it were an ancient text, showing you the answer to all your life’s questions. Your oversized sweater and tiny shorts struggling to cover the tops of your exposed thighs as you sat amongst the faded leather. Silky skin pooling against the existence of the fabric, accentuating your plump hips. The sight driving his primal urges to cave into his temptations.

His lamb was oblivious and vulnerable to the fate before them, as he closed in.

Stalking his lonesome prey, he would pin you down before biting your neck, leaving a reddened ring of his mouths artwork. Creating art out of you, all while you attempt to fight his lapse of control. He would eat your heart out. Ripping into it like a rich pomegranate, just trying to get to the fruitful seeds hidden beneath. And he would ignore as the juice stained his hands a bloody red, showcasing his corrupt actions. He would rip apart your ribs just to taste every part of your being. Drinking up your blood like cherry wine and kissing your lips as if they were the last thing he would ever taste in this life. The way he loved you was sacrilegious, an unholy tribute to the gods above.

He was godless in his actions, with roughened love and a darkness behind his fiery eyes. He burnt for you and only you. And you were a moth to his light, sacrificing yourself to his ritual as he tore away what was once pure.

Falling for his temptation was never your plan, but you became more and more addicted to his drug with every hit. No god could save you from the starving wolf as it striked down its prey.

You were his forbidden fruit, the lust he could never control. He would be bound to your soul forever, alike Persephone to the underworld. For your beauty was worth the mess he made of you. Destroying your light, to fulfill his dark sins and desires.

A/N: im afraid I ate with this one. LITERALLY. this is definitely a different writing style than what I normally do but I’m in LOVE with how this turned out <3

#dark!mattheoriddle #dark!mattheo riddle #stalker!mattheo riddle #pomegranate #x reader #smut #symbolic smut #I’m the reason your English teacher asks why the curtains are blue #xoblondie #slytherin boys smut #harry potter

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smileysuh · 2 years ago

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GyuGyu97 & Hannie : Svt

🌙 starring. Mingyu & Jeonghan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I hate to say this-” Jeonghan sighs, and you can feel him practically zooming in on your fingers as you tear open Mingyu’s jeans, “but you two are actually really hot together.” The confident man towering over you falters, and you watch the hint of a blush creep up his neck and bloom across his ears. He better not actually be in love with you.

cw/ tw. cam sex, pussy eating, blowjobs, unprotected sex, voyeur!Jeonghan, 3some, spit roasting, cum play, praise, multiple orgasms, cum shot, size kink, etc... I petnames. (hers) baby. (mingyu's) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.9k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. cam room directory here - i'm so in love with this pairing it hurts - this series is covered in audio by the Kpop Pillow Talk podcast, listen here

When - over a glass of soju - you’d accidentally let it slip to your friends in Seventeen that you were considering picking up camgirling again- it had only been natural that a handful of them had become interested.

They’d heard about your cam shows, which had become a well known secret amongst the boy groups of kpop. So the thought that you’d be taking another run at it - knowing that some of your big spenders would likely be too busy to join - had prompted a few of the group members to offer their own support.

Even though you’d given them all codes to the room, and described that they’d get notifications if you ever did a show- you hadn’t been sure if any of them would approach you one on one to be on cam with you. And on top of that, you’d assumed that for a few of them, their friendships with other regulars in your chat might dissuade them from taking a go at you themselves.

So when you get a text from Mingyu asking if you want to come over because the dorm is empty and he’s lonely… you’re a little surprised that it’s him making a move.

Some part of you had thought Seungcheol might be the first to message you- as he’s more similar to the general type of guy you go for; confident, dom types. But you suppose you’ve enjoyed a few switchy-type men too- only to find out that being on cam brought out a primal side to them that had surprised even you on a few occasions.

You wonder what Mingyu will be like… you’ve been wondering for quite some time, and you make your way to the Seventeen dorm adorned in a fresh set of lingerie; expectations high.

Mingyu greets you the way many idols do when you show up to a deserted dorm: he pulls you past the threshold and closes the door before dragging you to his lips.

“Can’t believe you came,” Mingyu says, breaking the kiss much too quickly for your liking.

“Of course,” you smile, enjoying the way he’s humble, even though he’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever met. “I was a little shocked to get your message but I’m happy I did.”

“Really?” The beautiful idol lights up from the slight praise, and his smile turns him practically ethereal. “I wasn’t sure if I was being too forward-”

“Gyu-” you press a hand to his chest and his heart races under your fingers, “I do cam shows- there’s no such thing as being too forward.”

“Right-” He swallows thickly, and you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs in that pretty throat of his. “You mentioned starting them up again, and I’ve heard good things about it-”

“You and your 97 line group chat,” you shake your head, embarrassment tickling over your skin- sometimes you hate to be reminded that your supporters talk to their friends.

In your brief hiatus from cam girling for your idols, you’ve lost some of your easy confidence- you hope Mingyu can help you gain it back.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Mingy asks, tugging on your hips to pull you closer to his chest.

“Of course.”

“There are a few guys in the 97 line group chat who are a little in love with you.”

“Just a little?” you tease- knowing immediately that Mingyu’s probably talking about Jaehyun- although, back when you taked to him more, you’d had a pretty good connection with Jungkook too. “Don’t you feel the least bit bad being here with me if your friends are ‘in love’ with me?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Aparently it’s a common thing- you know, Cheol Hyung also talks about you a lot-”

“Not you spilling all the secrets-” you laugh. “You must think you’re going to be impervious to my charms then Gyu- you’re not scared of falling for me too?”

“I mean…” his eyes drift down to your lips, “maybe I will- but isn’t it a cam room rule that if any of us catch feels for you, we should keep it to ourselves?”

“You know- that sounds like a pretty good rule,” you find yourself giggling again, leaning closer to the tallest member of Seventeen, the first who’d had the balls to seak you out for some on-camera fun. “So tell me… how did you end up in the dorms alone tonight?”

“Rolled my ankle in dance practice two hours ago- was sent home to ice it, but look,” he lifts his foot and shakes it slightly, “all better now.”

“So does that mean most of your friends are still at practice?” you cock your head to the side, tracing his pretty features with your eyes, watching the way he nods. “Which means… when we turn on the cam room, they’ll all get a notification in the middle of practice.”

“Not sure if they’re all at practice still-” Mingyu admits. “It goes late sometimes- I know Cheol and Woozi were planning to stay at the studio after practice- then Minghao and Jun are in China till next week- I think most of the others said something about going out for dinner and drinks-”

His words are rushed, and they betray a fact that you’ve not had to frequently contend with during your shows-

“What you’re saying is-” you clarify, “there’s a possibility someone might come home while we’re on cam.”

“A small possibility.”

“Except- with thirteen members- maybe more so of a probability,” you point out. “Especially if we go on cam together.”

“Are you thinking someone might come home just to catch us?” he asks.

You offer a shrug. “You know your friends better than I do.”

“I’ll check the group chat again, let me look,” Mingyu pulls his phone out of his pocket, eyes fixed on the screen as he begins scrolling around. “Okay- I’m pretty sure a bunch of them went for food, Hoshi’s posting stuff about it on weverse.”

“Honestly-” you reach for the belt of Mingyu’s jeans, tugging him closer, “I think I can make you cum before anyone gets home.”

“You think you can make me cum before anyone gets home?” The tall idol’s brows raise in shock, and he lets out a laugh. “Isn’t the whole show about making you cum?”

“I mean… yeah but… I don’t know, something about you makes me wanna ride it.”

Mingyu searches your face for any sign that you’re joking, but when you meet his eyes with a steady gaze he licks his lips, nodding. “Okay- we can do that.”

“We can do a lot of things, most guys like starting a show with eating me out but-”

“We can do that,” Mingyu interrupts you, repeating his earlier sentiment with even more fervor now.

“So… your room?”

“This way,” he tells you, grabbing your hand and turning to drag you down the hall.

His legs are long, and you stumble to keep up with him. You find yourself giggling at the way Mingyu reminds you of an eager puppy, and you’re even more excited to see how things are going to go-

You’ve been with a lot of doms who like to call most of the shots, it will be nice to experience someone who lets you decide on a course of action. He’d jumped at the idea of you riding him, whereas a number of your idol lovers have preferred a position with you on your knees while they fuck you from behind, using your body to cover their own and maintain some of their modesty.

You don’t think Mingyu’s going to have any problems with modesty.

The tallest member of Seventeen pulls your mouth to his as he closes the door to his bedroom behind you. You enjoy the way you’re having a bit of light foreplay before the camera is on. It’s nice to get to explore him a little- without your thoughts being distracted by a chat and the sound of coins that signify donations.

Mingyu pushes your coat from your shoulders, hands grabbing at your waist to pull you closer. His tongue glides across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, loving the way he deepens the kiss.

He smells good- it’s a different cologne than you’re used to, but there’s a spice to it that’s drawing you in.

Mingyu’s fingers slip under your shirt, teasing past your stomach, and you find yourself pulling away, opening your eyes to look up at the pretty man. “We should turn on the camera before you begin to undress me.”

“Right- yeah,” Mingyu nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth while blinking down at you. He already looks a little lost, as if kissing you alone has brought him into a daze.

“You mentioned you have a tripod or a light ring or something-”

“Uh huh,” the idol lets you go, moving to the desk at the foot of his bed. He opens a drawer and takes out the item you need, setting it up with quick motions while you pull out your phone. “So you just open a cam room-”

“Yup, then people join and watch- there’s a chat function so people can talk while we fuck-”

“Do you read comments?” Mingyu’s watching you carefully now, interest written on his face.

“Sometimes. It depends on who I’m with- like, some people like to read comments while I blow them-”

“What if you hold the phone and read comments while I eat you out?”

“That’s actually a really good idea-” you cock your head to the side, “and it sounds like you’re okay with having a camera in your face.”

“Well if you’re okay with it, why wouldn’t I be? Isn’t the cam room all about you know… being on cam?”

“You’d be surprised how many guys fuck me from behind and hide their bodies.”

“Not me.”

“I got the feeling you’d be the kind of guy that’s proud of his dick-” you laugh. “It’s big right? Like the rest of you?”

Mingyu grins, tugging you closer again. “Why don’t you touch it and find out?”

“Okay, but I’m turning on the cam room.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you laugh, shaking your head a little at Mingyu’s behaviour.

You open your cam room, directing your phone at the idol’s lower abdomen. “I’m going to give it a sec for some people to join,” you tell him.

“Can I kiss you for a bit then?”

You look up from your phone screen, and you find yourself smiling at Mingyu, giving him a curt nod.

One of his hands reaches out to cup your face, thumb brushing by your cheek bone while his fingers secure your head for him. He leans down to press his lips to your own.

It’s a soft kiss, and it makes you shiver, reaching with your free hand to grab at the front of his shirt.

Your phone starts to buzz, and you break the kiss to look down, eyes scanning the chat room.

HeyChannie: this better not be happening right now

HeyChannie: we’re literally just about to go on stage

You smile at NCT’s Haechan, he’s always been a bit of a menace. “Maybe this room isn’t for you Hyuck, go on stage and let other new people enjoy the cam show.”

“Who’s in the room?” Mingyu whispers, lips brushing by your neck while you keep your gaze fixed on your phone, camera still angled at his shirt.

“I gave the cam room link to a bunch of Seventeen members, but it looks like a few ateez guys have entered the chat too-” It’s a little overwhelming to be reading all the new names appearing.

A couple Ateez members have been present at other cam shows, but since your hiatus, you’ve gained something like 10 new users.

Luckily, most of your idol fans choose names that are fairly straight forward. Cherrycheolie can only be one man, and you suppose Vernon using his birth name Hansoooool isn’t too much of a stretch. Tigerprince feels like Hoshi, and Thegentleman is likely Joshua- KingArthurMin takes a moment for you to figure out as DK, and you find yourself thankful that new Ateez members are going by easy names like Wooyungthug, Yunhoe and Gi.

Wooyungthug: if all your nct biases are on tour… then whos dick is that

Maybe you shouldn’t have given Wooyoung a cam show link- but to be fair, you enjoy having little shit starters in chat.

“You guys wanna know who I’m with right now?” you ask out loud, bunching your fist tighter into Mingyu’s shirt. “Maybe you should guess.”

Mingyu pulls away from your neck, looking down at you with a curious expression.

Tigerprince: could be Seungcheol

Tigerprince: he’s in love with you

Cherrycheolie: I’m IN the chat dumbass

KingArthurMin: Wonwoo?

Wooyungthug: nah guys that dick looks big- has to be Yunho

Yunhoe: I’m also in chat

Yunhoe: dumbass

“Can I touch you, puppy?” you question, looking up at the man whose ears turn red at the petname.

Wooyungthug: okay, who do we know who gives puppy vibes

Tigerprince: I can be puppy

KingArthurMin: jeno from nct????

Cherrycheolie: thought she said she was done with nct for a while

Thegentleman: done with 127. Could be a dreamie.

Thegentleman: Jeonghan’s not in chat yet

Hansoooool: looks bigger than Jeonghan

Tigerprince: not you being a dick size expert

Hansoooool: I’m just saying the obvious

Cherrycheolie: I thought Jeonghan was getting food with you

Tigerprince: he left a few minutes ago

“Chat thinks you’re Jeonghan, puppy,” you grin, moving your hand down to cup Mingyu’s cock through his jeans.

“I’m bigger than Jeonghan,” Mingyu states, his voice low. He releases a groan when you squeeze his length, and he reaches for your hips. “I don’t want to wait anymore, wanna eat you out.”

“How could I say no to that?”

Your response has Mingyu throwing you onto his bed, and you laugh at the way Mingyu occilates between being submissive and dominant. You enjoy the way the camera angle gets messy, a flurry of movements half captured as Mingyu tears your pants off and drags you to the edge of his mattress.

“You should take my panties and keep them for yourself,” you tell him, lifting your hips to help him get your lower half completely naked.

Mingyu groans at your words, and you lift the camera to focus on the idol who shoves your panties in his back pocket before growling “come here” and dragging your pussy to his mouth.

Tigerprince: mINGYU????

Thegentleman: no way

KingArthurMin: SO THIS IS WHAT SPRAINING AN ANKLE GETS YOU?

Tigerprince: uh- NURSE, NURSE I ALSO HAVE AN ISSUE I NEED HELP WITH

Cherrycheolie: is it on your dick

Tigerprince: yeah, I got snake bite and I need the venom sucked out

Hansoooool: lol

Thegentleman: I’m actually shocked that it’s Mingyu

Thegentleman: out of all the people she could choose-

Cherrycheolie: hoshi aren’t u at a restaurant

Tigerprince: this is what bathrooms are for

Wonwho has donated $100

KingArthurMin: right! Donations!

KingArthurMin has donated $100

As the sound of coin donations begins to ding through your phone, you draw your eyes from the screen, looking down at Mingyu as he licks and laps at your pussy.

It feels good- you haven’t been eaten out in a while, and moans of pleasure begin to slip past your lips.

The idol with his tongue flicking at your clit opens his eyes to look up at you, and you instinctively reach down to run your fingers through his hair, grinding yourself down on him. “Just like that Gyu- you have such a nice mouth- feels amazing.”

You knew Mingyu would be a glutton for praise, and you’re rewarded when he presses his tongue deep into your hole, tasting your inner walls-

When Mingyu groans, you feel it everywhere. The vibration tickles through your pussy, and his nose brushes by your clit, making your legs twitch on either side of his head.

“Fuck- so good, Gyu, so good-” You close your eyes and tilt your head back, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of Mingyu’s tongue as your phone buzzes and dings-

You’ve never been in a situation where you’re holding the camera. It’s always one of your idol lovers calling the shots - literally - and you find your hand shaking with effort as you hold up your phone, trying to keep it focused on the man eating you out, getting you closer and closer to your high-

“Shit- puppy-” you’re nearly whimpering when his lips suction around your clit, and two digits slip into your wet core, crooking up to massage your gspot- “Yes! Just like that! Just like that! Fuck, I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum on your fingers, please don’t stop-”

You don’t open your eyes, you’re too close to pay any attention to the cam room. All you can do is give in to the pleasure Mingyu is providing, and not two seconds later, your core is clenching around his fingers as your ograsm takes over.

Loud gasps escape you as Mingyu works you through your release, paying special attention to your clit. He applies even more pressure to your gspot with those expert fingers of his, and you lift your hips in a bid to escape some of the stimulation-

Only for Mingyu to place two large hands on your waist and force you back down. His tongue replaces the space his fingers had just been, pressing into you even as your walls clench around him. When his nose brushes by your clit again, you spasm in his grasp from the sensitivity, releasing a loud gasp as you tug on his hair-

Mingyu finally lets up on you, pulling away from your core to look up at you.

You watch through your phone as the beautiful man with bedroom eyes licks his lips, groaning at your taste.

He’s a camera whore- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Did you like that?” Mingyu asks, and the grin on his face tells you he already knows the obvious answer.

“Of course I liked it, Gyu,” you let out a small laugh, still recuperating. “Now come kiss me, please.”

You toss your phone to the side in favour of allowing Mingyu to crawl up your body to meet you, your legs wrapping around his hips while his chest presses down against your own.

He tastes like your pussy, and the dirtyness of it all has you groaning into his mouth, licking and biting at his plump lips-

A knocking sound has you practically jumping out of your skin, heart lurching in your ribcage as you grab onto Mingyu, head whipping towards the closed door.

“Someone ordered a camera man?!”

The voice isn’t one you could easily mix up, and it’s Mingyu who lets out a groan. “Jeonghan-”

“I’m serious, the cam room is just looking at your ceiling- let me in.” The doorknob jiggles, but holds steady, lock remaining in place.

Mingyu looks down at you. “Should we let him in?”

You’ve had two idol threesomes in your life, and the last one hadn’t ended in the best of ways- sure, you’d came like five times, but after it was all said and done, Jinyoung had gone off to film a show and you’d been left wondering if he’d noticed your slight preference for Johnny and ditched you because of it.

However- looking at this circumstance, with two guys who are your friends but whom you’ve never slept with- can there really be that much jealousy and tension?

It’s not emotionally charged- in fact, Jeonghan’s down playing it as if you simply need a camera man.

“I’m okay if he joins-” you reach for your phone, angling it towards the door, “you guys are chill if Hannie joins too, right?”

KingArthurMin: NO WAY

KingArthurMin: YOU’RE LETTING JEONGHAN JOIN?????

TigerPrince: give us all like- 20 minutes and we can be back from the restaurant

Thegentleman: of course it’s going to be jeonghan and mingyu

Tigerprince: this isn’t fair

Mingyu gets off of you, heading to open the door for his friend.

Jeonghan is grinning at you and the camera a moment later, slipping into the room and locking you all in together. “Hey you two, been having fun?”

“How did you know to leave the restaurant early?” you ask, closing your legs and eying Seventeen’s most mischievous member.

Jeonghan shrugs. “Guess it just seemed obvious to me that if Mingyu was left alone at the dorms, he’d call you over.”

You find yourself laughing at their relationship. “He’s that predictable to you?”

“Uh huh.” Jeonghan’s grin widens. “So, camera man is here now, I’m ready to get started.”

Both of them turn to look at you, and with another small chuckle and the shake of your head, you hold out your phone to Jeonghan. “I’m trusting you to get good shots.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan assures you, “I’ve watched lots of porn, baby, I know exactly how to work this. It’s going to be your best cam show yet- or, the best filmed at least.”

“If you do well I might even compensate you,” you tease him, reaching for Mingyu.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan is already stepping closer to the bed, angling your phone to get the best shot possible of Mingyu returning to his position between your thighs, his lips pressing against your neck. “How would you do that?”

You release a shaky sigh as Mingyu sucks on your sweet spot, grinding himself down against your core. “I’ve been told my mouth feels like heaven.”

“Fuck, I bet it does,” Jeonghan stifles a small groan.

“Gyu,” you return your attention to the man on top of you, “I need you naked- we only have so long before more of your massive group of members shows up-”

“Cheol’s threatening to get in a cab right now,” Jeonghan muses, eyes quickly scanning the group chat.

“So I’m going to need you to fuck me sooner rather than later-” you continue, “I don’t know if any of us could survive Cheol or Joshua joining next-”

“No, just us,” Mingyu confirms, sitting up so he can tear his shirt off while your hands go to work on his belt.

“I hate to say this-” Jeonghan sighs, and you can feel him practically zooming in on your fingers as you tear open Mingyu’s jeans, “but you two are actually really hot together.”

The confident man towering over you falters, and you watch the hint of a blush creep up his neck and bloom across his ears.

He better not actually be in love with you.

“Puppy-” you draw Mingyu’s attention back to you with the petname, “help me with my shirt?”

He makes it as easy as lifting your arms, and the handsome idol tosses your shirt across the room, pushing you back down onto the bed. His lips brush past your neck and begin to descend, one of his large hands slipping under your back to undo the clasp of your bra-

“We’ve all heard you’ve got pretty tits, baby,” Jeonghan’s voice breifly distracts you, and you turn your head to the side to blink at him- but then Mingyu is tearing your bra off, mouth latching onto your nipple- “Pretty tits confirmed.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at the dichotomy you’re experiencing.

Mingyu is completely hot and bothered, massaging your breasts and pressing his thigh up between your legs- Jeonghan, on the other hand, is offering these small comedic relief musings while messing around with your phone camera-

“Gyu-” you run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, tugging him away from your chest, “I wanna ride you now.”

“Fuck- yeah, right-” the idol swallows thickly, and then you’re both rolling, Mingyu manhandling you into the top position. He blinks up at you from where his head is now resting back against the pillows, and even Jeonghan lets out a shaky breath.

“You look really good on top, baby,” Jeonghan tells you, likely voicing the thoughts of the man still staring up at you in awe.

“Yeah?” you swivle your hips, resting your hands against Mingyu’s beautiful chest. “Just wait till I start to actually ride him.”

Both men let out small groans, and you lean down to press your lips to Mingyu’s. His fingers dig into your hips, but he allows you to begin kissing down his neck, then chest.

You move down his body, picking up where you’d left off with the waistband of his jeans.

Mingyu is quick to lift his hips, making it easier for you to tug everything down.

You’re practically drooling when his large, hard cock slaps up against his abdomen.

Wrapping your hands around his length, you kitten lick at the head before slipping more of him into your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue.

“Shit- your mouth does feel like heaven,” Mingyu groans above you, reaching down to brush some hair out of your face.

You can feel Jeonghan getting closer for better shots, and you open your eyes to look up at Mingyu.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty with your mouth stuffed, baby,” Jeonghan coos, and in the periphery of your mind you can hear coins signifying donations.

You suck Mingyu even harder, and he releases a loud moan, hips pushing up and forcing his cock deep into your throat-

“Shit, fuck- need you to ride me-” Mingyu gasps, pulling you off of his cock.

You take a breath, recuperating momentarily before following through with the request. You quickly shimmy up his body, grabbing the base of his length to line up with your entrance before you sit down on his cock, letting it fill you inch by inch.

“Gyu-” you groan, “so big-”

“You can take it,” he assures you, the hands on your waist helping you slowly lower yourself until you’re completely seated, stuffed to the brim. “Fuck- yeah, just like that-”

You lean over Mingyu, palms flat against the bed on either side of his head. When your lips meet, it’s as eager as ever, his hands grabbing at your lower back, fingers smoothing up your spine-

You lift your hips a little before sinking back onto Mingyu’s cock, and you groan into each others mouths. His hands slip down to your waist again, and he aids you with finding a rhythm.

You know if Mingyu was on top, he’d be going much rougher and faster than you are, but you suppose this is part of the fun of teasing him. He has to take you slowly, has to adjust to a pace you’re dictating.

With one last small bite to his lower lip, you sit up again, resting your hands flat on his chest as an anchor. You begin to ride him faster, the sound of skin slapping skin getting increasingly noisy.

“Such pretty tits-” Mingyu groans, reaching to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers.

The sensation makes you shudder, throwing your head back as you ride him, lost in the feeling of his large hands and massive cock-

“You’re so deep Mingyu- I can feel you everywhere,” you tell him, thighs already straining, muscles tight.

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s hands glide down to your hips again, and one braces over your abdomen, “feel me here?”

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper, releasing a gasp when he stretches his thumb down to circle your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so tight- so good,” he groans, the hand on your hip urging you to bounce faster on his cock.

“Can you guys switch to reverse cowgirl?” Jeonghan asks, and his words make you falter. “It would look great on camera.”

“Yeah-” you find yourself agreeing, “give me a sec-”

Mingyu lets out a frustrated groan as you lift off his cock and adjust, turning around to face the foot of the bed, where Jeonghan is now positioned with your phone in hand.

You reach below yourself for Mingyu, sinking back down on him-

“What if you just hold yourself there and let him fuck up into you?” Jeonghan suggests. “You were looking a little tired from riding, baby- not used to being on top?”

“No,” you confess, thighs burning as you lift yourself again, giving Mingyu space to latch onto your hips and begin thrusting up into your core. “Fuck- yeah, that feels good-”

“Rub your clit for us?”

Jeonghan truly has all the good ideas today, and the moment you touch your sensitive nub, your skin starts to tingle. A moan slips out of you, and it turns into a whine when Mingyu gives a praticularily rough thrust up into your pussy, hitting a spot deep inside of you that has your toes curling.

“Feels amazing, right?” Jeonghan grins, moving closer to get a good shot of your tight cunt taking all of Mingyu’s cock.

“Uh huh,” you bite into your lower lip, feeling your orgasm begining to bubble again in the pit of your stomach.

“Jeonghan-” Mingyu groans from beneath you, “give me the camera- baby, you look so fucking good taking my cock like this-”

The elder man has to get close to you to pass the phone to his friend, and you find yourself looking Jeonghan up and down with the proximity.

As he moves to pull away, to return to the foot of the bed, you hook a finger in his belt, making him stop, eyes meeting yours.

“I think I need something to suck on,” you tell him.

“Fuck, really?” He swallows thickly. “You sure?”

“Of course.” You begin to fumble with his pants, and Jeonghan helps you slip them down. You trace the outline of his hard cock straining against his breifs before those too are pushed out of the way.

You grab the base of his length with one hand, the other flat on the bed so you can lean over Mingyu’s knees while wrapping your mouth around Jeonghan’s cock.

Both men let out moans of pleasure, and Mingyu fucks into you even harder, fingers digging into your hip, guiding you to bounce a little on him while he ruts up to meet you.

You enjoy getting lost in the moment, lost in the feeling of Jeonghan’s length hitting the back of your throat-

“Fuck- so good, baby, so good-” Jeonghan groans above you, grabbing your head to help guide your mouth along his length.

“Shit-” Mingyu’s hips twitch, “I’m gonna cum soon- Jeonghan, take the camera back.”

You feel the man above you reaching for your phone, but you’re too focused on sucking the soul out of his dick too care, tongue twirling this way and that.

Now that you’ve all found a rhythm, you can let go of the base of Jeonghan’s cock, and your hand returns between your own legs, fingers rubbing your clit.

You’re as close as Mingyu is, and the sounds of pleasure that both men are making take you even closer to the edge.

“Fuck- so tight, baby, so fucking good for us-” Mingyu grunts, fucking into you even faster. “Want you to cum with me-”

“Rub that pretty clit and cum with Mingyu,” Jeonghan joins in, his words prompting you to apply even more pressure to your sensitive nub.

You moan lewdly around Jeonghan’s cock, and he pulls you off of him so your sounds can fill the whole room as Mingyu fucks you closer and closer-

“Shit, fuck- just like that, just like that-” Mingyu’s voice is getting pitchier, and it adds to his charm, making your pussy clench tightly around him- “Fuck- cum with me, baby, cum with me-”

Jeonghan cups your chin as your pussy explodes around Mingyu, forcing you to look up at him and the camera as your orgasm overtakes you. The angle of your neck makes it impossible to stifle any of your moans, and they loudly tumble past your lips, making your skin tingle with overwhelm.

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, his hips unrelenting as they smack up to meet your own, fingers digging into your skin.

Jeonghan has his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it as he watches you and his friend come undone. “Fuck, this is so hot-”

“Hannie-” you moan desperately, “want your cum too-”

“Yeah? Our little cam baby needs more cum? Where do you want it, princess? Face, tongue, chest-”

“On my tits,” you say instinctively. “Please-”

There’s really only one man you let cum in your mouth- and as much as you like Jeonghan, he’s not the dominant you usually get on your knees for.

You straighten on top of Mingyu’s cock, grabbing both of your boobs to press them together, giving Jeonghan an ample target as he works harder on himself, the camera shaking in his hand to capture everything-

“Fuck, okay- I’m almost there-” Jeonghan grunts, closing his eyes and throwing his head back-

Ropes of hot, white, sticky cum are coating your breasts a moment later, and Mingyu slows his thrusts, finishing his orgasm and allowing you to stay a steady target for his friend.

“So good, Hannie-” you whisper, which only makes Jeonghan groan louder, head lolling forward so he can watch you as he finishes, pumping slower on his cock-

“Fuck, baby- shit, you look amazing-” he tells you, letting out a gasp as his orgasm subsides.

“Thanks for the cum, guys,” you breathe, trying to ground yourself even as you’re still seated on Mingyu’s cock.

“You’re something else,” Jeonghan groans, reaching down to grasp the bottom of your chin, forcing the camera close to your face before letting it dip to show off the mess he’s made on your chest.

“I’m your cam baby,” you tell him happily, and you’re rewarded by the sounds your phone makes- chat notifications and coin donations.

“I guess you should say goodbye to the cam room?” Jeonghan suggests.

“Goodbye cam room, thanks for watching,” you smile, focusing on the camera until Jeonghan’s ended the live and tossed your phone onto the bed.

“What now?” Mingyu asks behind you.

“Now, I go have a shower and wash all this stuff off-” you explain, “and when I’m done, I’m guessing a few more members will be kicking around.”

“Hoshi’s gonna want to bang you, you know,” Jeonghan muses with a mischievous grin.

“He can wait,” you say simply, lifting yourself off of Mingyu’s cock. “I’m actually more worried about Cheol ditching the studio early to come back here and see me.”

“Do you have a thing for Cheol, princess?” Jeonghan asks, reaching out a hand to help you get to your feet next to the bed.

“I have a thing for soft daddy doms,” you admit. “Cheol gives off vibes that I think I could work well with.”

“And we don’t?” Mingyu jokes, but there’s something beneath the jovial tone.

“Don’t be getting all jealous and possessive now, Gyu,” you remind him with a laugh. “That usually doesn’t work well for anyone.”

Sometimes you hate putting up this emotional wall- but someone has to. You have to protect yourself while doing this- these idol cam shows can be deadly if you’re not careful, and you’re not the type to go looking for a broken heart.

Interact with those who've cum before

› [nct] NiceGuyJohnny - online

› [got7] PubGMarkT - online

› [got7] beommie - online

› [wayv] Lucas99 & Hendery99 - online

› [got7] TheJinyoung - online

› [bts] TaeTae - online

› [nct] ValentineJae97 - online

› [nct] HeyChannie - online

› [multi] TheJinyoung & NiceGuyJohnny - online

› [nct] Private Room - online

› [svt] GyuGyu97 & Hannie - now in server

› [atz] Yunhoe - online

› [svt] CherryCheolie - online

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✘ general taglist:

general taglist: (send me an ask to join either tag list:)

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

thanks to those who interacted with promos :)

@heavenly-mobo - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @capr1sun

@ryusha-rose - @hyuckhoon - @kosmoreads - @meenjee

@arizejkt19 - @xcharlottemikaelsonx - @allie-mcginn

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