#non to dub to hell yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

butterymangowrites · 3 months ago

Text

ten years in the making

paring: bakugou katsuki x fem reader

warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, no-quirks au, high school love confession, unrequited love turned very requited, almost non-con threesome, feels like cheating (but technically not), no cheating though, fuck boi bakugou, pining reader, obsessive/possessive bakugou, running away, biting, marking, creampie, breeding kink, angst, toxic relationship

word count: 6.2k

You still had the love letter you handed to him when you were both in high school. His spiky blonde hair was pretty under the spring sun, red eyes examining the envelope in your hands with a disgusted look on his face.

On the rooftop of the school building, the wind blew extra hard. The chill of winter that lingered in the breeze made your face cold, but it was the rejection from Katsuki that numbed your whole body.

“Take that shit away,” he sneered. “Be lame somewhere else. I don’t like you.”

It was pathetic how you fixated on him because he helped you once from a petty thief who tried to steal your wallet. You shouldn’t have liked him that much, not when he was so clear in his stance on how he felt about you. But you were also just a girl, and girls had crushes on Bakugou Katsuki—you were just one of many, but no doubt the most pathetic one.

Cause while others grew out of their crushes eventually, you did not. And Katsuki, being the spawn of the devil that he was, started to see you as some sort of entertainment.

You followed him through university, enrolling in the same one. You begged your mom to stay at a dorm near campus, the same dorm Katsuki told you he would stay in. He lied. You knew on the moving day because he texted you photos of his new place from the front of the building to the room with an obviously different layout.

The text said, ‘lol you really thought u got me huh?’

That sentence needed commas, and you… needed to get a grip. Yet, you did not.

Still trying to be close to him, you went to every party he went to, even if it meant you had to see him with a different woman each time. He never stuck with one, telling you he was easily bored and that was why you and him would never happen. Because you were a soppy, hopeless romantic who would wait for him like a dog waiting for its owner to come home—his words.

“When will it get through your thick skull, dog?” Katsuki rapped on your forehead with his knuckles. “You’re not my type.”

Well, his type exited the room just now, leaving only you and a very naked Katsuki in it. He loomed over you menacingly close, trying once again to talk some sense into you, albeit in a very mean fashion. Tonight, he was particularly cruel. After texting you to buy him a box of condoms—stating a specific brand, flavor, and size—he made you sit and watch until the very end.

You pretended to pay attention, but what you really looked at was the wall behind the scene playing in front of you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.” You changed the subject, ignoring his hot breath that fanned over your face.

“Yeah, mom misses you like hell,” he jeered. “How did you do it, inserting yourself into my family?”

It was simple, actually, just offering to drive him home for a monthly family visit with a gift for his mom and dad every time, without fail, even though he got his own car. His mom, Mitsuki, never trusted his driving skills anyway, saying he was too reckless. So she was grateful for you, to the point of inviting you over for dinner as thanks whenever you dropped her son home, and you accepted the kindness.

Katsuki would roll his eyes, but he let it all happen, cause why would he say no to a personal chauffeur? All he had to do was sit prettily and blast his one-hour playlist until the car was parked in front of his childhood abode. And after eating and helping with the dishes, you would be gone, back to your own family house a couple of streets away—convenient.

You knew you were just a tool to Katsuki, his lackey, but you were also as stubborn as a mule.

And as dumb as a clown…

After many years hounding for Katsuki’s attention, you finally got it when you were both twenty five. The first time he kissed you, he was drunk in your apartment. He was frustrated with a colleague who screwed up an important meeting with a potential client and decided to come rant your ears off with two packs of beer—one for him, one for you.

You never thought the night would end up with him pinning you to the floor, his mouth devouring yours and his hands popping the buttons of your work shirt until your bra-clad tits showed.

“Thought you would follow me anywhere,” said Katsuki, red eyes locked onto you from where he was, face nestled between the soft mounds of your breasts. “But you chose a different company, live far away from me, texting seven times in seven months. Traitor.”

“You’re heavy.” Your words struggled to come out. From when he used to be lanky and the same height as you, he was none of that now. The growth spurt hit him like a freight train. In the blink of an eye, he grew into a giant of a man, tall and filled with muscles, even more so now that he was in his salaryman era. You wondered how he still found time to work out as often as he did when you barely caught any sleep.

After graduation, you both landed jobs in different companies. And if you were being honest with yourself, you would say the reason you accepted the offer was partly because running after Katsuki and answering his every beck and call started to… tire you. Forced by duty and responsibility, it helped you distance yourself away from him. Cause Lord, you doubted you could have done it on your own.

Getting his text today saying he would come visit, you were dumbfounded, even thinking it was a joke til you got another text an hour later saying he arrived.

You shouldn’t have let him in, shouldn’t have reconnected. You were almost off the noose before he came and adjusted the knot, tightening it. After that night, he came visit once a week on Friday. Kisses slowly evolved into soft touches, then heavy petting, and finally—sex.

Fucking your brain out, that was what he did most of the times, leaving your ass red and face wet from crying. On rare occasions, it was slow, deep, like he wanted to mold you into the shape of his cock. But all was intense, asking for eye contact and name-saying, and it was Katsuki who did the asking, which surprised you to no end.

“You wanna come home? Mom and dad miss you,” mumbled Katsuki one autumn night. It had been three months since that first drunken kiss. “They got a new dog. But old people are always lonely, hell knows why.”

With that, not only him, but the monthly visit returned, too.

Their dog was a loudmouthed chihuahua named Katsumi. It barked at you non-stop from the moment you got out of the car, louder when Mitsuki raced out the front door to hug you. After dinner, it found you and Katsuki in the laundry room with its master’s teeth nibbling down your neck and barked snappily, making Katsuki jump.

When you let out a roar of laughter, his eyes widened with a look of what seemed like wonder. His pupils dilated when he leaned down to take your lips in a fierce kiss. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Had you mentioned being dumb?

A month later, there was a knock on your door. Katsuki hips slowed down mid-pounding before he stepped back from you and the bed, leaving you empty.

“Keep your ass up. Don’t fucking move.”

You only let out a soft hum as a response, not understanding why or who would be here at this hour. Were you too loud? Maybe someone was here to complain. You pondered, face still down against the soft mattress with your rear up as instructed. Katsuki would handle them, whoever they were.

“Well, I see why you never call anymore, Katsuki-kun.”

The voice was close, too close—its owner was in the bedroom with you. When the realization hit, you bolted, shooting out of your position and scooting back, all the while pulling the duvet up to shield your nakedness from the newcomer’s eyes.

She was a woman about your age and height, standing at the foot of the bed in a skimpy dress.

“Do me a favor. Shut the fuck up,” said Katsuki, confirming they really did know each other.

It was like your brain stopped functioning. You saw Katsuki walking towards you but was too slow to think what your next move should be. So you let him pull you to him by the duvet because you wouldn’t let go of it. When he sat you on his lap, you felt something wet gliding down your cheeks.

“Hush now, princess.” He wiped the dripping drops with both of his thumbs. “You seriously thought our relationship was exclusive? You thought you fixed me?”

Another set of fat tears cascaded down when he kissed you, seasoning the kiss salty.

“Seven months, seven texts, no calls,” he said. “Who do you think you fucking are, leaving me like that?”

You knew, you knew it was too good to be true. And when he turned to the other side to kiss the woman who was now naked and sitting on the bed—your bed–beside him, you also knew it was time to let go. The silly crush, the well-kept love letter, the admiration that you should have weaned off long ago—they all needed to go.

Getting up from his lap while he was distracted, you gathered your clothes off the floor and left the bedroom without turning back. You got dressed in the living room and closed the front door silently when you left the apartment. You didn’t want him to hear, not wanting to cause a scene, not wanting to see him anymore.

You were sitting in the car in the apartment parking lot, trying to find a hotel to crash at when you got a text from Katsuki.

‘you thought you got me huh?’

You blocked him.

There was only a month left on your apartment’s lease; you would give a notice to your landlord tomorrow that you would move. Everything would be alright, you told yourself. Katsuki might never bother you anymore since he had got what he wanted—your absolute humiliation.

It was different from that one time he told you to stay and watch him rail the life out of that girl when you were in college. At that time, you knew you were nothing to him, knew he did that to hurt you. This time, you thought you were something to him. And it hurt, a thousand times worse to realize that you weren’t, and that he still wanted to hurt you.

—

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Those were the only words spinning around in his head since you were gone, really gone. You walked out of that door so fucking demurely. Even when he stopped kissing his ex-booty call to listen, he didn’t hear you wail or see you come crawling back.

So he texted, leaving the girl he called here to demean you to quickly type on his phone. When the message was marked ‘read’ but got no response, he cursed, “Fuck!”

“Come on, Katsuki-kun. Let’s have some fun,” the girl whined.

“Sh!” He shushed her, still tapping the screen.

She probably looked at him like he was possessed by an evil spirit, but he couldn’t care less.

‘Who did you think you were? My gf? Lol.’

He was so in a hurry he forgot to type in lowercase.

‘Lovesick foll’

‘*fool’

‘Where u going’

‘Dont wanna watch’

‘?’

You didn’t read at all except for the first text. That made him get off the bed and get dressed, running out of the apartment to punch the elevator down to the first floor. When he exited the building, your sedan was already on the street; he saw the taillights, remembered the plate. It got farther in each second that passed, and there was not a darn thing he could do about it.

Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck shit, fucking fuck.

For some reason he knew, this time, you were gone for good. Not an absence the next day at school after he told you he lost his virginity to some girl in another class, not the seven months with a few texts to check in with him. This time, it was for good.

Like hell he was gonna let that happen.

—

You ended up staying at the hotel for a week, scared Katsuki might still be lurking around. While you knew he got his biggest fill of breaking you this time, you wanted to be sure. Then, as soon as you found a new place, you moved out.

At work, you asked your boss, Aizawa, for a transfer to another branch, telling him it was for personal reasons. You swore you saw him squint his weary eyes, but after asking you a couple more questions, he agreed nonetheless.

“If it were stress, it’d be no different in another branch. Hope you know that,” Aizawa drawled.

“I do, sir,” you replied, tired from the poor quality of sleep your situation and the hotel bed gave you.

“And as soon as possible, you say?”

“Yes, sir,” you affirmed. “Please.”

The transfer was done in one week, all thanks to your boss.

Restarting your mundane life, it took two months for you to regain some sort of peace found in everyday’s routine—waking up, going to work, coming home, sleeping, waking up again. There was no contact from Katsuki, only the ghost of his taunts that came hand in hand with the memories of his caresses you could not dispel remained, making guilt creep up your spine every time you touched yourself to climax imagining it was his hand.

You would find someone else. You and Katsuki, it was ten years in the making. You were fifteen years old on that rooftop, confessing to a boy you thought was the most beautiful person in the world, having no clue how your action would play out. It would not be possible to banish those ten years in two months, no matter how despicable he was to you. And that was a shame.

It took one phone call from Mitsuki to disrupt your normalcy.

“I just wanted to know how you were doing, honey.” said Katsuki’s mom, sounding worried. “It’s just—you’re gone again, like those months. And Katsuki won’t tell me what’s going on, which means something must have happened. I need to—I—”

She was trying to find words, and you didn’t want to interrupt.

“I need to know you’re okay.” She finally let it out. “Just come visit, honey. You don’t have to bring my son.”

“We miss you.”

It was those words that brought you to the Bakugou house the following weekend.

“Oh, honey.” Misuki stopped before you, eyeing you from head to toe. Katsumi barked incessantly, all the while trying to sniff the bag of fresh-baked cookies you bought for the family. When the woman beckoned you to come close and enfolded you in her arms, you teared up a bit.

“That airhead of a son,” the older woman grumbled.

Getting in the house thwarted all the cold delightfully. You put your coat on the couch next to where you sat, waiting for the tea Mitsuki said she was going to get. You always liked the Bakugou house, asking Katsuki to walk him home every day just to see it from the outside. He never let you in. Ironically enough, it was never him who invited you in, it was his mom.

Where was Mitsuki now? You looked around for the matriarch, but instead, you saw Katsuki.

“About time you showed up.”

There was so much fighting, so much push and pull, and trying to run away, and crying for help; yet, no one came. Katsuki had to carry you on his shoulder to go upstairs because you resisted profusely and refused to walk on your own.

Door closed, lock clicked. A second later, you were dropped on his bed unceremoniously. You had never been in his room before and didn’t want to now. But since there was no choice, you took the opportunity to look around, taking everything in.

His room was so… boy. A drum set in one corner, an expensive-looking gaming PC in another with a shelf filled with mangas and action figures next to it, posters of his favorite anime character plastering all over the walls.

You remembered he liked All Might, the blonde-haired hero from a shonen manga you didn’t read but knew every detail from Katsuki’s ceaseless babble. You even broke into your savings buying a dozen raffle tickets till you won the big prize—a large figure he said he was saving up for—and gave it to him as a birthday present.

He probably didn’t keep it.

“Don’t be mad at mom, okay? I was on my knees begging her for help. That was on me,” Katsuki spoke softly, as if he was trying not to spook you. “Old hag hit me so hard dad had to intervene. But I’m her son. You understand, right? She would never abandon me.”

It was him between you and the door; you just needed to get past him, unlock the door and run. Slowly, you got out of the bed to stand on your own feet. The moment they touched the floor, however, was brief. Because Katsuki leaped from where he stood, taking him only two strides before he got you again.

Back on the bed, you fought him tooth and nail, punching, kicking, biting, while he tried to sedate you with a soothing voice. But there was nothing soothing or gentle about this man—a monster. You saw through him.

His grip on your wrists was immovable, anchoring you to the bed with one hand. He caged your body with his, examining you like a predator sizing up its prey, his presence all domineering, demanding obedience.

“Shhh, settle down. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he coaxed.

“Let me go!”

All you could move now was your legs, which you did to your best ability, but to no avail. Katsuki waited it out, allowing you to try however you want to get away without saying anything. Eventually, you stilled, so exhausted you couldn't move anymore.

“There, there. That’s my good princess,” he murmured, his usual harsh features softening.

Frustration brought tears to your eyes. It took less than you thought, easier than expected, to suck it all up and spill everything that occupied your mind.

“What do you want? What do you want from me, Katsuki? I'm sorry I confessed to you that day. It was pathetic. I was pathetic. But please—please.” Your voice got hoarse and lost at the second please. You had to cough to get it back. “I have learned my lesson. You and me, it will never happen—will never work out. I know that now. I get it, believe me, I do,” you choked through your tears, pleading. “I won't like you anymore, Katsuki, so please—let me go.”

“Like me?” he reiterated. “I thought you loved me.”

“What?”

He sighed, his free hand searching for something in one of his sweatpants’ pockets. When he pulled his hand out, you saw a letter—the one you gave it to him and got rejected. All these years, it had been kept with you, safely in your trinket box. Now, it was in his hand, opened. He finally accepted it, but at what cost?

“I need you to read it to me,” he commanded, “out loud.”

“Please, don’t make me do this.”

“Listen,” he said. “I’m going to let go of your wrists and give you this letter that you wrote for me, and you’re going to read it—word—for—word.” He used the envelope to brush down the bridge of your nose. “If you tear it up—if you do, princess—I’m going to make you rewrite it. And it better be as good, if not better, than this one.”

He let go of your wrists and gave you the letter.

“Oh, and if you run,” he added. “I’ll catch you, and we start over. Clear?”

You nodded and took the envelope, hands shaking noticeably when you took the letter out. Everything was under Katsuki’s observation. He sat astride your thighs without putting all his weight on you, waiting patiently.

“To Katsuki, if you are reading this, that means you accepted my letter, thank you!” You wiped tears out of your eyes to see better. “I know you get a lot of letters like this. It must be a bit of a hassle reading love confessions everyday, right? But please bear with me, I will try to keep this—”

Interrupted, you looked past the letter and saw Katsuki lifting the hem of your sweater up and leaning down to place a kiss on your exposed stomach.

“Go on,” he prompted. “Don’t mind me. Don’t stop.”

“I will try to keep this short,” you continued, completing the last sentence, trying to ignore the fact that your jeans were being unbuttoned and pulled down. “You know, girls in our class often say they love your hair, your eyes, but a lot of them are scared of your personality.” You felt his breath through your panties, hot. “I disagree. I think you are nice, brave, and kind. And don’t get me wrong, I love your hair and eyes too.”

“You’re cute, baby,” said Katsuki as he pried your legs open. Without taking off the underwear, he licked your pussy through it.

“Katsuki!”

Dragging his tongue up, he mumbled, “Keep reading.”

“And I love you.” You read on and saw his eyes roll back at that specific sentence.

Suddenly, he switched from licking to sucking, making the crotch all wet with his saliva. You were preparing to read the next part when he made it all the more difficult by moving aside the damp fabric and rubbing his face into your naked cunt. His nose, lips, chin, all soaked in your embarrassing glossy juice. You cursed yourself for giving in, for getting wet.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

You let out a sob, raising the letter in your hands up again to read.

“I know we don’t know each other well, and this feeling is not reciprocated—”

Why did he have to slurp the juice like that? He made it hard, so hard for you.

“I’m—just a classmate after—all. But what I said, I said it with—a sincere—heart. So even if—you don’t love me back, please—let me keep—this feeling, I promise I—will treasure it.”

Panting sharply, you stopped before the next paragraph when you felt his tongue massaging your clit. Grasping his hair with both of your hands, you forgot you still held the letter. There was an audible scrunch when it was crumpled up in one of your fists.

Katsuki stopped dead in his tracks, glaring up from below; his red orbs seemed redder all of a sudden. “Did you just crumple the letter?”

You pulled your hands back quickly when you realized, strengthening out the paper as best as you could. The creases weren’t that bad. You showed it to him, ensuring that it was still intact.

He relaxed. You released a held breath.

Back to concentrating on the handwritten texts, this time, you vowed to not look at him anymore and would just just read through everything as fast as you could—getting it done. Nevertheless, when he was back on eating your pussy and pride out, it did not get easier, Katsuki still managed to make you writhe like your life depended on it.

“One more thing, I don’t know if you remember, but thank you for—saving me that day in front of the mini mart.” You tried to recall the event, the beginning of everything. “The thief would have—hurt me, and I would have lost—my wallet.”

And it was just that, just you trying to yank your wallet back from the thief's hands, the popsicle you just bought lying on the ground, melting. The store staff was on the phone with the police—you heard it—but they didn’t come out. Katsuki did.

When the thief was about to lay his hand on you, the blonde haired boy whom you recognized as your classmate kicked him in the shin. Moving fast, Katsuki then slammed his school backpack on the thief’s head, once, twice, thrice, on and on until he knocked him out.

“You were my hero.” You read the last sentence, finishing the letter as he finished you.

You set the paper down on your side, finally freed from the evidence of your teenage self’s stupidity. Feeling weightless from the orgasm, all you could do was stare at the ceiling. After what felt like forever, Katsuki appeared in your field of vision, hovering over you, now shirtless… and pantless. You weren’t aware when he took them off, too lost in your own world.

“You can't just stop loving me,” he said before bending down to kiss your cheek, then whispered, “Take responsibility. Be true to your words, dumbass.”

“Katsuki, you’re being selfish.” You turned your face away, fleeing him.

His red eyes sharpened. “After all this time you have showered me with love and attention, and you want to—take it away?”

“There will be others who love you and give you all the attention you need,” you argued. “I’m not that person.”

“No! Fucking no! Shut up!” he barked, turning your face back to him and silencing you with a kiss.

Even with the heater warming up the room, the cold air that seeped through the walls and windows still reached your naked form. After being rid of your sweater, bra, and drenched panties, the only warmth you could find was from Katsuki’s body. And he made sure to share it with you so generously.

Pain after pain, bite after bite. Katsuki would not stop no matter how desperately you begged him to. Your skin was his canvas, not only your neck, but your cheeks, breasts, belly, arms, thighs, calves; they were tender and hurt to touch. You would have to refrain yourself from looking into the mirror for too long, maybe. Luckily it was winter, this way, nobody would bat an eye if you covered yourself up like it was minus twenty celsius.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw, okay? Haven’t fucked anyone since you left. You gotta take care of me, princess.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you returned. “You fucked that girl.”

And it still hurt just thinking about it.

“Did not.”

Even so, had he gone mad? He sounded like it. Wearing condoms was the strictest rule of his when it came to sex. As far as you knew, he never broke it once, not for anyone, not for you. But you could be wrong—you didn’t want to—because now, he actually looked eager to go through with it, fucking you bareback.

Too risky, too intimate.

“You’ll regret it. Please just—think before you act.”

Trying to reason with Katsuki, you also attempted to move away. Big mistake. Catching you by your thighs, he forced himself closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then, he placed his unshielded cock on your folds and pushed it down a bit for the head to slither in, just the tip, nothing more.

“Katsuki, no!”

“Katsuki, yes,” he said, mockingly, and shoved it all in.

—

The bed shook and squeaked annoyingly from how hard he rammed into your tight weeping hole, but the moans you were trying, but not so successfully, to suppress were so adorable he was able to overlook it and focus on you instead. He never knew his bed did this, never brought anyone home to fuck before.

He almost spilled in the first five minutes, having to slow down to prolong the feeling of being wrapped and rubbed by a pussy, skin to skin. And you—lying there with your brows frowned and tits bouncing—did not help shit. Trying feebly to push him away when he swooped down for a kiss only stirred up his excitement, making him go rougher until you gasped and gave in.

What a soft and tempting little lamb you were. He wanted to brand you with his cum and give you his fucking name, knocking you up with a couple of brats for you and him to take to school and hear a teacher address you as Mrs. Bakugou with his own ears.

Since the day you handed him that letter, you had never been anyone else’s but his. Must have been fate, he didn’t know, didn’t care about a what-if either. His only regret was that he could have had a taste of you sooner, but he would call it a story arc and leave it at that—he had you now anyway.

“Say my name, princess,” he demanded.

“Kat—suki.”

“Again.”

“Katsuki!”

This was worth it. The tirade of rebuke his mom delivered to his ears and the smacks on the head while saying she never taught him to be like this when he came clean about what he did to you—all was worth it.

“I’ll get her back, mom,” Katsuki convinced. “We’ll get her back.”

“You better.”

It was convenient that his mom already liked you as if you were the one who popped out of her vagina and not him. Well, they were the same in that aspect. Who would have thought it would come to this day, the day he wanted to trap you in his home, when just a decade earlier, he would never have had the slightest idea of granting you the permission to step past the front gate.

“She’s a good kid,” his mom commented. “The same girl who walked you home and bought you that All Might figure, no?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“Aha.”

“Will you help me or not?” he asked, irritated. He had been kneeling at her feet for like fifteen minutes.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Mitsuki’s voice hardened. His dad’s hand over her shoulder rubbed gently to calm her quick temper down.

“Tch!”

The tiny mutt chose that moment to strut into the living room, stealing his mom’s attention. She leaned down to pick it up and put it on her lap. It looked down at him, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Conceited little fucker.

“You know why I named her Katsumi, Katsuki?”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit.”

“Katsuki,” his dad said in a reprimanding tone.

“She reminds me of you, angry for no reason, always bark, bark, bark. It gets lonely around here, so why not.” Mitsuki smiled, scratching her new child’s head. “And you—remind me of her.”

Katsuki squinted his eyes, kinda knew where this was going.

“A dog, waiting for its owner to come home.”

She was not wrong.

“Yes, I will help you, son.”

A series of bangs on the door broke through the memory and his euphoria. He just came, hard, pouring his pent-up, ripe seeds far up your cunt, and someone wanted to butt in now? Katsuki huffed, but refused to get up and find out who wanted what, dead set on keeping you plugged up.

Another rapping on the door, then a voice followed. “That’s enough, Katsuki. Let the poor thing out.”

Of course, it had to be his mom.

“Go away, hag.”

“Bakugou Katsuki!”

“We’ll be out!”

Just not now. He omitted, and it worked. Mitsuki carried a string of grumbles and footsteps with her, leaving nothing behind. Katsuki turned to you, still under him, in time to see you avert your gaze away. Cute.

“Can I go now?” you asked.

“No.” He changed positions, turning over onto his back and getting you on top of him, cock still snug inside your walls. He hoped he didn’t spill a single drop.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Then don’t, baby.”

“I can’t live like this. Please”—you pleaded with your eyes—“don't hurt me anymore.”

He couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at your frail tone. Looking at you, he saw a woman with dark rings under her eyes, beautiful, but she looked like she had seen better days—a stark contrast to the girl who held out a letter towards him on that spring day, wind in her hair, kindness abundant enough to share.

Before he knew it, words were out of his mouth. “I wish I had hurt you less.”

It would not have been possible for him to not hurt you at all. He knew himself well enough to believe otherwise. He also knew, for certain, how he would like the story to go.

“Do you still love me? Like you wrote in that letter.” he whispered. “Am I still your hero, princess?”

“You don’t”—you gritted your teeth—“have the right to ask me those questions.”

“I’ll be yours. I want to.” And fuck, he really did, just thinking about it woke his flaccid cock up, rigid again inside of you. Putting his hands on both of your asscheeks, he grinded you up and down. “Do you still love me?”

You kept quiet, unyielding, only small, faint gasps could be heard.

“Guess that’s not important.” Katsuki decided. “I’ll keep you first—fuck the answer out of you later.”

Panic flashed upon your expression at his declaration, and gasps turned into lustful whimpers when he started slamming your hips up and down his erect shaft.

“How long are you gonna make me wait? A year? A decade? As revenge, maybe?” He took your sweet mouth, hand pressing down the nape of your neck to keep it still. “House will be full of brats by then, but take your time, princess.”

“This will never work out. It won’t. It won’t,” you cried, shutting your eyes tight. “I can’t share you.”

Katsuki didn’t know why, but you not wanting to share him was sexy as shit. The mere thought of sharing you, however, made him want to put something on fire. Was this jealousy people were talking about? It burnt like a bitch.

“Who said anything about sharing?” he grunted, slapping your jouncing ass, making you squeal. “And this goes both ways, princess. Don’t think I would let anyone touch you.”

He was pissed just imagining it, which was nowhere near healthy, but who wanted that. He just wanted you, in any way he possibly could.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you spluttered, convulsing around him.

“That’s it. Come on my cock, baby. Make your man proud.”

Your velvety walls tightened, constricting his cock and milking it when ropes of cum shot out.

Sucked dry and spent, Katsuki closed his eyes and tried to rein in his breath. When he reopened them, it was to check if you were still with him—you were, resting on his chest with one cheek against it. Out of cuteness aggression, he pinched the other side.

You let out a short screech. “That hurt!”

The thought of marking you reared its head, biting where it hadn’t been bitten yet, hurting you a little more. But he stifled it, saving it for later.

Steering himself to another matter, he said, “You never texted me back.”

“I blocked you.”

“Figured.” Katsuki nodded.

“Deserved.”

“Unblock me.”

You sighed.

—

The messages wouldn’t go through even if you unblocked him. That was how the application worked, which was fine with him. Scrolling through the one-sided chat, he could sense urgency and desperation through each letter, and some messages actually sounded mental. It would be for the best if you didn’t see them.

‘Answer’

‘i didn’t fuck her, she left. Now fucking answer’

‘come back, i wont be mad. where u at.’

‘I am still at your apartment, u. didn’t come back. where r u’

‘i fucking found your letter. i’ll find u too’

“You—kept my present?”

Katsuki looked up from his phone to your towel-swathed form, fresh out of the shower. Following your line of sight, he was directed to the bottom of the bookshelf where an All Might figure was set—his seventeenth birthday present from you. It was one of his top favorites, but he would never tell you that.

“I’m not stupid enough to throw things I like away, I’ll have you know.” He scowled and went back to scrolling on his phone.

‘so u moved away huh?’

‘need you. don’t wanna fuck my hand anymore :(’

‘never mind, bitch’

‘u love me huh?’

‘Pathetic’

‘didnt mean that’

‘need u’

‘i'm an attention seeking whore who abuses your love to get the validation i want.’

‘sorry’

‘there i said it.’

‘now come back’

Yeah, you didn’t have to know any of that.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #tw.breeding

890 notes · View notes

joonberriess · 1 year ago

Text

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors�� in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

3K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

First | Previous | 1fur1

Masterlist

#sorry this is a little shorter but uhhhhh i never know where to go after smut #anyway hope yall like it #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️#dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au #wolf john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish

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janiehellion · 5 months ago

Text

Wildflower Woes

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon hates you. Or does he? And do you only love the flowers that grow in your own garden, or do you love the wild ones too? Because with eyes watching in the darkness of the night, nothing is ever quite as it seems.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: S1!DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HURT / ANGST / VOYEURISM / MASTURBATION / EXHIBITIONISM / DUB-CON / LANGUAGE / CUM PLAY / SEMI-PUBLIC

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8.000

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: NON-CON ELEMENTS

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

As you walked behind Daryl, your eyes drifted from the road ahead to the ground beside your feet, where something caught your eye and distracted you rather fast from everything else around you—a bunch of wildflowers that had bloomed along the side of the road. They were not only the kind you’ve always loved, but they were also a small reminder of what life really was like not so long ago.

Without a second thought, you decided to step off the path, with your fingers reaching out instinctively to touch the nearest blossom in silent admiration.

"They’re still so beautiful, despite everything," you whispered quietly to yourself, not wanting Daryl to hear what you were saying. "I remember how I always thought these were just pretty-looking weeds as a kid because Mom and Dad always had them everywhere in our garden. God, I miss them so much."

Kneeling down beside the flowers, you allowed yourself a quiet moment of peace, thinking back to a few weeks ago when everything was still normal. To those weekends gardening with your mom while your dad cut the lawn or filmed you and your mother to capture memories for the future. The time when your parents were still alive.

But that short moment of peace was quickly shattered by an all-too-familiar sound that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver through your body. Spinning around, your eyes locked on the rotting figure of a walker emerging from behind a tree, and panic flooded your mind.

"Shit!" You screamed, stumbling backward and falling hard onto the ground, and in your desperate attempt to avoid being bitten, you reached for your weapon, only to realize the handle was tangled with the strap of your backpack. Despair washed over you as the walker got closer, its hands reaching out to dig its fingers into your flesh.

Just then, Daryl heard your scream. He spun around, his crossbow aimed at the walker, and in the blink of an eye, the creature dropped dead at your feet with a bolt in its head.

"What in the hell were ya doin'?" Daryl shouted, his face full of anger as he rushed over.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled to your feet, your voice trembling. "I… I just noticed the flowers! I’ve always liked flowers and these—"

"Flowers? Ya nearly got yerself killed over some damn flowers?" His eyes narrowed in frustration.

Daryl’s voice was bitter, full of anger, as he grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly back onto the road. Before you could react, he stomped his boot into the patch of flowers, grinding them into the dirt in front of your eyes.

"Can't believe ya'd risk yer life for this bullshit!" He said, as he pulled his bolt out of the walker and walked back to you again.

His grip on your arm tightened, and he yanked you forward. "Look at ya," he growled, full of disgust. "Ya think this is some kinda shitty garden party? We're fightin' to survive, and yer out here actin' like a pussy over a bunch of fuckin' flowers! ‘S that what's gonna save us? A fuckin' bouquet?"

His words made you flinch, and you were unable to hold back the tears that had already formed in your eyes. When you looked back up, Daryl's face was only inches from yours.

"Oh, look at ya, so delicate and pure!" He taunted with disdain. "Yeah… Ya gonna stop this shitshow with a bouquet, huh? Gonna wave 'em around and make all the walkers bow down to yer flowery grace? What’s next, princess? A fuckin’ garden gnome to guard the damn camp?"

You tried to steady your voice, fighting back your sobs. "Listen, Daryl… Thank you for saving me, really! But I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble! I just... I just wanted a moment of beauty that reminded me of—"

"A moment of beauty? Ya think yer gonna find some happy endin' in the middle of all this shit? It's like yer livin' in a fuckin' fantasy! Newsflash: This ain’t a damn fairy tale!" Daryl cut you off with a mocking laugh.

He stepped closer, invading your personal space. "Oh, I see. Ya got this big-ass plan, don't ya? Ya gonna sprinkle some petals ‘round and charm all the dead assholes with yer pretty flowers, huh? Hell, why not add a unicorn that shits glitter while yer at it?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but his insults didn't even give you a chance. "Oh, wait, I got it! Ya gonna build a fairyland where everything is perfect and we all live happily ever after! Ya gonna knit a quilt with flowers on it, and everyone will forget 'bout the damn world fallin' apart! That’s yer big-ass plan, ain't it?"

Listening to him, you struggled more and more to hold back your sobs, but you finally found the confidence to respond. "That's not true! And I didn’t say that. I just thought—"

"Thought what?" Daryl interrupted again, his voice almost yelling in anger. "Ya think that’s gonna change anything? Get real! Out here, ya don't get to have yer shitty moments of peace. Ya either get yer head outta yer ass or ya die!"

He shook his head, scoffing at you. "Tell me! What’s next, huh? Ya gonna start singin' lullabies to the walkers? Maybe ya should bake ‘em some cookies and ask ‘em to join the damn camp," he spat out, finally turning away and leaving you standing in the middle of the road, knowing that you’d follow him one way or another.

And you did.

Aside from Daryl's few mutterings of frustration, the walk back to the camp was quiet. He didn’t offer you an apology, nor did he ask why you seemed so fascinated by those wildflowers in the first place. Instead, he simply continued to walk ahead, throwing you angry sidelong glances from time to time, while his annoyed curses and angry mumblings barely reached your ears anymore.

You allowed the minutes to pass, and just as you were beginning to accept being his supply run partner a little bit more, Daryl's voice was heard again. "Quit yer damn whinin'! Pretty flowers ain't gonna keep ya alive!" he said, his anger not yet gone. "All this fuckin' bullshit just makes ya look weak! Ain't nobody got time for that. Ya gotta get that into yer head!"

He looked ahead, and with a sudden, quick move, he lifted his boot and stomped down on another few wildflowers growing along the side of the road. Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and your eyes widened in shock and hurt. The purpose behind it—to obviously hurt you—only made you clench your fists tighter, your nails digging into your palms.

But you stayed silent; the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to bully you and to fuel his anger. Instead, you focused on keeping your breathing steady, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you continued to follow behind him.

As you both finally approached the quarry, Daryl’s anger reached its breaking point, and in a rather sudden decision, he stormed off the path, disappearing into the woods without another word and taking the rest of the supplies with him.

"Yeah, yeah, run away, you fucking dickhead," you whispered to yourself before putting the backpack down next to the RV. "What a damn idiot! Just because he’s got a stick up his ass doesn’t mean he is allowed to shit on everything that others care about. He thinks he’s so tough, but he’s just an asshole who’s always acting like he’s the only one who matters around here! And here I was, thinking I might actually like him and have a soft spot for him. Guess I was just kidding myself. What a fucking joke!" You continued and let the sadness come out quietly as you were left standing alone.

"Can’t believe he thinks this is some kind of, I don't know, redneck survival training. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m so tough! I’ll just destroy whatever makes you happy!’ Well, newsflash to you too, Dixon: You’re not the only one who’s capable of surviving! Jesus…"

The sudden sound of footsteps approaching stopped your rant, and you turned to see Dale walking towards you with a look of concern. "Hey there," he said with a smile, taking the backpack into his hands. "You look like you’ve had a rough time out there today. Is everything okay? Where’s Daryl Dixon?"

You hesitated for a moment, the situation that has happened before making it hard for you to find the right words. Finally, you sighed and responded.

"I couldn’t give less of a fuck where that man is right now! I mean, listen, Daryl’s been—well, he’s been a jerk, like always. He got mad about a few pretty flowers that I found. You know, the wild ones that I showed you the other day when you were talking with Shane? Well, Daryl ended up stomping all over them because he had to save me from a walker, since the flowers distracted me and nearly got me killed. And now he’s just gone off into the woods without a word. He even took the rest of the supplies we’ve found with him. Can you believe that, Dale?"

"Oh, yes, I do remember the flowers; very nice to look at. My wife would’ve loved them as well, believe me," Dale’s eyes studied you as he listened to you, trying to understand what had happened, "but I’m sorry to hear about what has happened. Sure, Daryl’s got a lot of—let’s call it rough and tough edges. But I’m sure he’ll be back soon with the supplies; don’t you worry about that."

His words and warm smile helped to calm you down a little. "Yeah, I guess you’re right," you sighed, feeling a little better. "Thanks, Dale. I just needed to let off some steam. And maybe Daryl's right, some of those flowers weren’t meant to survive this cruel world…"

Dale nodded once more but looked slightly concerned because of your answer, though he decided not to address it, nor did he press any further. "Anytime. Now, let’s get these supplies sorted. I bet that Daryl will calm down soon enough as well."

You couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "Yeah, maybe. And pigs might fly too."

Soon enough, you were busy sorting the supplies when you heard footsteps approaching again. This time, it was Daryl who did come back from the woods, but his face showed that he was still annoyed.

"Here," he snapped, tossing his bag of supplies onto the ground. "Forgot to leave 'em here. Don’t expect any flowers or fairy dust."

You looked up from the supplies, sighing loudly. "Yeah, thanks," you answered quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I guess it’s good you’re back. The camp needs those supplies."

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Ya know, if ya spent less time daydreamin' and more time focusin' on what’s important, then we wouldn’t have to deal with this shit."

"Is that so?" You shot back, struggling to stay calm. "And what exactly is ‘important’ to you, Daryl? Destroying everything that reminds people of normalcy?"

He snorted at you. "Normalcy? Ain’t no such thing in this world no more. If ya can’t handle that, maybe ya should stay behind."

His words hurt, but you forced yourself not to fuel his anger. "Well, maybe if you weren’t so hell-bent on destroying everything that might still matter to others, you’d see that sometimes people need a bit of hope, however small."

Daryl stared you down. "Hope? Hope won’t keep ya alive. Only havin' a pair of balls and havin’ a clear head will do that. And from where I stand, ya got none of that."

"I guess we’ve all got our own way of coping with this new world," you said quietly, not really knowing what to answer him anymore.

His eyes studied you. "Copin'? Ya think I’m just ‘copin'’ here? I’m tryna keep us alive, and all ya do is mess 'round with flowers like it’s some kind of goddamn gardenin' hobby."

You took a deep breath. "I’m just trying to hold on to a bit of what makes me human. I know it might seem pointless to you at the moment, but those flowers... they remind me of something good, something that I miss."

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, good for ya. Maybe ya can save the world with yer damn flowers, while the rest of us are riskin' our asses."

Before you could respond, Andrea approached you, having overheard the conversation. "Hey, is everything alright?" She asked, her eyes looking from you to Daryl.

"Just a little disagreement," you answered, forcing a smile. "Nothing we can’t handle."

Daryl took a step back and shook his head. "Yeah, well, I’m done wastin' my time here. Gonna get some rest."

As he walked away, Andrea rolled her eyes and turned to you with a smile. "Don’t let him get to you. He's an asshole. But you’re doing the right thing by holding on to what makes you feel human. You’ll get used to him eventually."

Later that evening, as the campfire was burning down slowly and the rest of the group went to go to sleep after their meal, you sat quietly on the side, lost in your thoughts. Daryl had withdrawn from the group, sitting alone by a tree as he stared into the flames from afar. Eventually, you stood up and walked off to your tent, but the next morning, a flower appeared by the entrance, carefully placed where it was visible but not too obvious.

"Is he for real?" You said to yourself, not really sure why he'd even continue to make fun of you like this in the first place.

While you were helping with camp chores a short time later, you spotted Jacqui kneeling by the water, washing the clothes. Taking the chance to get some answers, you approached her.

"Hey, Jacqui," you began, trying to sound neutral. "I found this wildflower in front of my tent. Any idea who might be leaving them? I don't know if Andrea told you, but I had a problem with Daryl yesterday, and I thought he left the flower there just to keep on making fun of me."

"Of course Andrea told me, how come you think she wouldn’t? You can’t keep secrets around here!" Jacqui looked up, laughing out loud. "But come on, are you for real? You think it was Daryl Dixon? Really? Come on, that's too funny."

You blinked, taken aback by her reaction. "Wait, you think it’s funny that I’m even considering Daryl after him acting like a total dickhead? I just thought—"

Jacqui laughed again, shaking her head. "Oh, come on. Daryl? Why should he continue to make fun of you like that? I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw a beer can at your head, or leave a skinned squirrel in front of your tent or even under your pillow, but flowers? You're overthinking things. Honestly, I'd bet it's Shane."

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. "Shane? Seriously? That’s what you think? But Daryl literally bullied me because of them."

Jacqui stood up, stretching her arms. "So, what? I’m just saying that sometimes it’s better not to overthink things, especially when it comes to the Dixon brothers. There's nothing that'd benefit him in mocking you any further. Anyway, I’ve got clothes to get back to." With that, Jacqui wandered off, leaving you confused and a bit embarrassed.

"Hey! It’s not like I expect him to start a flower shop anytime soon, okay? It’s just super weird!" You shouted after her, shaking your head slightly, before you caught sight of Daryl from a distance, kneeling over his crossbow. The sight of him—mumbling to himself and clearly busy with whatever he was doing—irritated you, and you decided it was time to confront him directly.

"Daryl, can we talk for a second?" You finally asked and approached him hesitantly.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Whaddaya want, woman?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady despite the frustration you felt about him still being angry with you. "I found this flower this morning. Right by my tent."

"Yeah? And what’s that gotta do with me?" Daryl’s eyes narrowed, his tone defensive.

"I just thought that maybe you’d know something about it. I mean, I didn’t think it was a coincidence, since the flower is like the same from—" You started, but he didn't let you finish.

"Hell, I dunno nothin’ ‘bout those damn flowers. Ya think I’m runnin’ ‘round playin’ flower fairy for ya now or what? It wasn't me. Keep dreamin'," Daryl cut you off, his jaw tightening.

His voice was harsh, his tone dismissive. "Just stop pissin’ me off; yer just lookin’ too much into shit. It’s just flowers. Quit tryna make somethin’ outta nothin’."

Your frustration was growing, and you took a step closer. "I’m just trying to understand. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to understand something. Look, it doesn’t make sense for this flower to just—"

Before you could finish, Daryl cut you off again. "Hell, just drop it! Got enough problems without ya comin’ at me with this bullshit. Ain’t in the mood for yer crap no more."

Just then, Shane appeared with a wide smile on his face. "Hey there," he said, leaning against a nearby tree. "I couldn’t help but notice you looking a bit stressed. You up for some fishing? Could use some company, if you’re interested, that is."

You glanced between Shane’s big smile and Daryl’s scowling face, and with a small nod, you agreed. "Yeah, that actually sounds nice. I could definitely use a break right now. And it’d be nice to eat some fish every now and then."

Shane’s smile widened. "Perfect! We’ll have a great time, I’m sure of it; even if we don’t catch anything, it’ll still be fun. I’ll go get everything ready and come back to get you when I’m done."

"Why don’t ya both just try to drown while fishin’ then? I’m sure ya’d both do a great job at it," Daryl suddenly mumbled, turning back to his bag.

"Excuse me? What was that? What did you just say?" You asked, trying to keep your voice calm, but your confusion was obvious as you watched Shane walk away. "And what the hell are you even doing there in the first place, Daryl?"

"None of yer damn business," he snapped back at you with annoyance. "Maybe ya should spend less time bein’ a pain in the ass and more time doin’ somethin’ useful. Like catchin’ more than just one damn pitiful fish with that Romeo ya got over there."

You shook your head, feeling your frustration boil over. "You think you’re the only one who cares about survival? We’re all trying to get by, Daryl. But as a team! Together, as a group of survivors! And you? You’re just being an asshole."

Daryl’s gaze hardened. "Oh, that so? And what’s yer excuse for bein’ a pathetic, whiny mess? Thinkin’ yer entitled to shit? Get over yerself."

Before you could respond, Shane reappeared with some of the fishing gear. He then noticed Daryl’s bag next to his crossbow and raised an eyebrow. "Thistles? What the hell are you gonna do with thistles, Dixon? Prick us to death?"

"Guess we’ll be havin’ a fancy-ass thistle salad for dinner. Real gourmet shit," Daryl answered sarcastically. "Ya can eat parts of 'em, if ya so keen on knowin', but I bet ya knew that already, ain’t that so officer fancy-pants?"

Shane’s face turned serious as he glanced between you and Daryl. "Dixon, you got a problem with something? ‘Cause you’re acting like a real jackass for no goddamn reason at all!"

Daryl turned back to his bag. "Nah, just tired of watchin’ ya’ll pretend to be so high and mighty. Don’t need no charity fishin’ trip from ya, Shane."

Shane’s jaw clenched slightly, but he tried to sound calm. "Funny, Daryl, really funny. Maybe you should take a look at yourself before you start a fight you can’t win."

Daryl’s expression grew darker. "Ain’t here to be ya damn buddy, Walsh. Got my own shit to deal with, so why don’t ya just keep yer damn opinions to yerself?"

"Alright, alright. You do you, Dixon," Shane answered, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile as he looked at you again. "Come on, let's go fishing then; I’ll ask Jim to be on the lookout in the meantime."

You watched Shane walk away, then turned back to Daryl, who was now looking at the thistles in his bag.

"Great, really great. That went well," you sighed, shaking your head, but Daryl didn’t respond and instead continued to fumble with the thistles. You soon walked away, joining Shane by the water.

"Let’s get this set up," he said, handing you a fishing rod. "We might as well make the best of it."

As the time went by, the conversation drifted to other topics. Shane talked about his past life, even sharing police stories that made you smile despite yourself.

"Thanks for this," you soon said. "It’s nice to get away from the group a little, even if it isn’t far, and just... be."

Shane nodded, focusing on his line. "Yeah, I figured you could use a break. Daryl’s got a way of being a pain in the ass."

"I guess that’s one way to put it," you laughed back. “But he isn’t the only one around who isn’t very great to get along with. The real pain in the ass around here is Ed, and that’s a fact.”

“Ed, yeah, don’t remind me. But you do realize that talking about Ed would be a pain in the ass just as much, don’t you think?” He smirked, casting his line again. "But speaking of Dixon, you know, it’s actually funny. Because I’ve seen that asshole sneaking around your tent more than once. Creepy as hell if you ask me."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait, wait, wait... What are you talking about? What do you mean? Daryl Dixon? What? When?"

Shane shrugged casually. "Well, I’ve already seen him lurking around your tent when you first got here weeks ago, like he’s some kind of damn stalker. Even seen him hide behind some of the cars at night. Also quite funny, because Jim was the one who caught him near the RV first, since he’s more or less the mechanic around here. Did you know that being an auto mechanic was Jim’s job? Who would’ve guessed?"

You frowned at him, processing this new information. "Shane, could you please stop trying to change the damn topic for a moment? This isn’t about Jim right now! Just tell me if you’re serious about Daryl sneaking around my tent!"

"Relax, relax! But yeah," Shane laughed and shook his head. "I mean, Daryl’s always been a bit of a freak, but that... that was something else. Fucking creep."

You bit your lip, feeling confused. "I don’t know, Shane. I mean, sure, he’s rough around the edges, like Dale pointed out before too, but..."

"But? But what?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hesitated, then sighed. "It’s a little stupid, okay? But when I first got here, I kind of had a fleeting thing for him. But not for long; I mean, I didn’t know anybody around here; you were all just strangers, so of course I didn’t know what he’s actually like."

Shane’s face quickly showed disbelief and a bit of anger. "You’re shitting me, right? That piece of shit who literally told us to drown? You had a crush on him?"

You shook your head, feeling quite embarrassed. "No, listen, it wasn’t exactly a crush! Please, don't call it a crush, okay? I simply thought there was more to him, you know? Maybe under all that anger, there’s someone who… cares."

Shane shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you could see his muscles twitch while he was gritting his teeth. "You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That hillbilly dipshit? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, just like his brother Merle. And now he’s got you thinking he’s some kind of misunderstood hero? That piece of shit couldn’t even fit into the anti-hero category if he wanted to! I already told Lori and Carol to keep Carl and Sophia away from him and his brother! Because they’re both a bad influence!"

"It’s not like that, Shane! I know he’s very difficult, but..." You started, but he cut you off once more.

"But nothing!" Shane snapped. "God, you sound just like Dale! Please now, just listen to me. You deserve better than that. Someone who actually gives a damn about you. Not some freaking weirdo who creeps around your tent at night. I know that I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry. But you think Daryl’s going to change just because Merle’s probably dead? Nah. He’s just going to keep treating you and all of us like shit. But I’m here, and I actually care about you and the rest of us. And I did care right from the start."

You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed by his words. "Shane, please, this really is turning into an awkward conversation right now. I just need some time to think and not a motivational coach with a shotgun and a fishing rod."

"Fine. But just remember what I said. Daryl’s not the guy you think he is." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "And you know what? The two of you are a perfect pair of fuckin’ clichés. The tough redneck guy and the naive dreamer princess. It’s pathetic."

You hesitated, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "Okay, okay, I got it! Stop! I meant to ask you a different question anyway! About a flower I found by my tent. Did you leave it there for me?"

Shane shook his head. "Me? Leaving you a flower? No. Don’t have time for that. I have to keep this group safe, after all."

You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. "I know, I know, it's just that... Jacqui thought it might've been you. Guess she was wrong."

Shane shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to talk any further. "Yeah, well, let’s just finish up here and head back."

A short time later, you and Shane packed up your gear and headed back to the camp, where the rest of the group, apart from Daryl, was already sitting around the campfire and talking. about the usual things, all the while you couldn’t stop thinking about what Shane had told you as you stared into the fire.

And as the night finally fell over the Atlanta camp, Daryl found himself in the shadows and lost in thought. He had withdrawn from the group throughout the rest of the day, thinking about how Shane and your fishing trip had annoyed him and left him feeling more than just pissed.

He moved quietly through the trees, his steps almost making little to no sound while his mind was full of conflicting thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. He was still angry with himself over everything that had happened—his rage towards you, Shane’s arrogant attitude, and his own pushed-away emotions that he couldn't really ignore.

Standing by the edge of your tent, he looked around to make sure he was alone and out of sight before he crouched down, pulling out a small bundle from his pocket—another wildflower, the exact kind that you liked so much.

"Fuckin' ridiculous," he mumbled to himself and snorted. "Here I am, sneakin' 'round like some kind of goddamn lunatic."

He put it gently on the ground, just near the entrance of your tent, where you had to notice it one way or another. His fingers moved along the petals of the flower as if it could somehow help him feel better with his guilt. "Goddamn it, Daryl," he whispered to himself. "Ya really fucked it all up, like ya always do. Stompin' on 'em flowers like a fuckin' idiot. What were ya even thinkin'?"

His eyes narrowed as he remembered how he had responded and how he had used his insults and rage to try to push you away. "Ya didn’t mean it," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Ya were just so pissed off. Shane’s up her ass all day, and ya had to be the one who’s had to do somethin'. Hell, she's gonna think it was him now anyway, with the way he’s been actin' 'round her, that's for damn sure."

He stood up, avoiding stepping on the flower. "But ya know what? It ain’t 'bout him. 'S 'bout yerself, ya fuckin' idiot. Ya can’t just keep watchin' her and expectin' her to see ya for the piece of shit ya really are."

He looked around when he heard a noise, seeing you coming from a distance, and quickly moved to hide behind a nearby tree. His heart was racing in his chest; adrenaline and shame were rushing through his body, but he couldn’t let you see him; he couldn’t let you know that he was here, after all.

Daryl crouched down low, pressing his back against the bark of the tree he was leaning against. "Every damn night," he whispered quietly, "watchin’ her shadow. Shit, she doesn’t know. Fuckin’ hell, if she knew... I’m a goddamn creep. But I can’t stop. I just—I need to see her. Need to know she’s there."

His eyes followed you as you got closer, but he didn’t move. He was observing you and watching to see if you would notice the flower immediately, or if you wouldn’t until the next morning.

"She’s gotta know it’s me," Daryl thought, his mind racing and his body beginning to sweat all of a sudden. "She’s suspicious already. Can’t let her know the real reason why. She’d hate me for it."

His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists tightly. "I’m a fuckin’ idiot. That’s what I am. Tryin’ to make it right with damn flowers, but I’m still the asshole who’s watchin’ her like a damn perv. She’s got no idea," he whispered to himself again. "No fuckin’ clue what’s really goin’ on. Hell, if anyone 'round here knew, they’d run me outta camp. Can’t have that. Don’t want her to know; don’t want anyone to know."

"Why’d ya let things go this far?" He continued to tell himself. "Why’d ya let yerself get so fuckin' close to her? Ya think she’s gonna understand why yer such a fuckin' creep? Fuck, think again."

As you opened your tent, Daryl's eyes were watching you with nervousness. Even though he knew it was wrong, he was unable to accept the fact that he had been watching you most of the time at night, unable to take his eyes off your tent.

"Ain't gonna make excuses," he muttered. "Been an asshole, and I know it. Been watchin' her—sometimes even more than I should. Fuckin' hate myself for it. Every damn time I see her, she reminds me that I’m a damn bastard, and I can’t stand it."

Thoughts of how he had treated you kept coming back again and again to his mind. "I act like I don’t give a shit, but I do. Hell, I care more than I wanna admit. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so goddamn hard on her. Dunno. Maybe I thought it’d keep me from feelin'... this way."

Daryl stayed right where he was, watching you leave your tent open as you eventually got inside. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. "This ain't right. She deserves better than this. Deserves someone who’s not a fuckin' creep. Can’t help it. I keep comin' back here, leavin' these stupid fuckin' flowers, hopin' she might see some part of me that’s not completely fucked up."

He sighed, feeling his thoughts pressing down on him. "Yer a mess, Dixon. And ya know it. Yer leavin' flowers to try to make up for yer own damn behavior, and it ain't ever gonna be enough."

Upon entering your tent, you did notice the flower that was lying by the entrance. In fact, the flower was too familiar, and the thought of Daryl lurking around nearby made you shiver, but you didn’t acknowledge the flower directly. Rather, you purposefully chose to ignore it because Shane's remarks regarding Daryl had made you feel a little uneasy, which you could not quite shake, but it also somehow excited you to no end.

"Alright, let’s make this good, and let’s see if he really is sneaking around here," you then murmured to yourself with a smirk on your lips as you thought about your plan. "I’m gonna give him a show he won’t forget anytime soon."

You began to undress slowly, your fingers sliding over your skin as you glanced at the open gap of the tent, a deliberate choice to keep it ajar.

"Is this what you want, Daryl?" You whispered to yourself as you pulled off your shirt and slid your jeans down. "Do you want to see me like this?"

With every piece of clothing that you let fall to the ground, the blush on your cheeks turned redder. The thought of him possibly watching you from the shadows, all hidden and quiet, made you shiver with excitement and nervousness, because of the other dangers that might be hidden in the shadows. “Don’t think about anything else right now; I’m safe. I’m safe.”

Your fingers fumbled with the hooks of your bra, and you let it fall from your shoulders before you squeezed your breasts with your hands, the feeling of your fingertips brushing over your hardening nipples making you moan. "Look at me," you murmured, "see how I’m touching myself, how I’m getting so fucking wet because of you right now."

Your hand slid down your stomach, your fingers sliding into your panties, with the wetness of your pussy making you gasp as you started to rub your clit in slow circles. "You like this, don’t you? Watching me at night, knowing I’m thinking of you?"

You soon pulled your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, showing yourself off completely before you laid down and spread your legs, giving a full view of your wet pussy. With two fingers, you traced the outer folds before slipping them inside, letting out a quiet moan. "I know you’re out there," you whispered, "watching every fucking move I make."

As you began to fuck yourself slowly, your other hand continued to pinch and tease your nipples. "I can almost feel your eyes on me," you mumbled, "watching as I fuck myself. Is it turning you on, Daryl? I bet you're already so fucking hard."

You added another finger inside, curling them slightly to stretch yourself more and tease your G-spot with each thrust. "I bet you’re dying to feel what this is like," you taunted quietly, "to be so so fucking deep inside me right here, right now."

Your fingers moved faster, your hips moving in time with the thrusts of your fingers, and you were already getting closer to the edge just by thinking about the fact that Daryl was probably watching you. "I bet you’re imagining how fucking tight I’d be around you," you moaned. "I know you’re just as fucking turned on as I am."

Among the trees, Daryl remained hidden in the shadows. His eyes were locked on you, unable to look away even as his heart pounded violently in his chest. The way your fingers moved over your breasts, the playful, almost desperate way you touched your hard nipples—it drove him wild, and the image of you parting your pussy and pushing your fingers into yourself was nearly unbearable. Every little movement you made seemed to burn itself into his mind.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mumbled while his gaze shifted a bit as he attempted to stand up from his position without making a sound. He forced himself to remain motionless, but his hand went almost automatically to his zipper.

The simple sight of you, all naked, completely defenseless, and so vulnerable, was making him lose his mind. He could see how your body tensed and arched with every touch, and his eyes tracked every movement of your fingers as they slid in and out of your pussy.

"Fuck, not again; why’m I doin' this?" Daryl grumbled to himself, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock inside his pants. "This ain’t right. She’s right there, and I’m just—fuck!"

He glanced down at his own body, his cock pushing hard against his pants. It wasn't easy to ignore the pulsing need that was building up inside him—a need that seemed to only grow with every quiet moan you let out. His heart was racing, and he could feel the sweat starting to run down his forehead.

Daryl’s fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants; he was trying to calm himself down at first, but the sight of you getting yourself off was making it nearly impossible to think straight. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered again, struggling to keep his breathing steady. "Ya can’t just give in. Not yet. Ya gotta keep control."

He watched you spread your legs wider, your fingers moving faster now, and it was all he could do to keep himself from making any noise. His eyes locked onto the way your body responded—how your hips bucked with each thrust of your fingers.

"Look at her. She’s so fuckin' beautiful," Daryl let out quietly. "So damn hot, and here I am, just watchin'. Like some sick fuckin' perv."

With a quiet, frustrated growl, he tried to regain control of himself, his hands clenching more tightly. Even though his cock was begging for attention, he was unable to let himself go.

"Keep it together, Dixon," he told himself, his voice trembling. "Yer not gonna just—give in. Not yet. Not like this. She’s... she’s right there. Goddamn it! Fuck!"

But Daryl's control was breaking fast, each breath that he took only making it harder to keep his impulses in check, and it was pushing him past the point of no return. The temptation was just too great, and he couldn't control himself any longer. His hands, which had been clenched tightly into fists, now finally moved to undo the zipper of his pants.

His cock sprang free, the sight of it being so hard making him shudder, and the moment his hand wrapped around it, he let out a quiet groan.

"Goddamn it," he mumbled, his voice full of frustration and lust as he started to stroke himself slowly. "She's gonna fuckin' kill me."

He couldn’t help but imagine your hands being on him—almost in the same way that you were touching yourself. He could hear your every moan, every breath, every whimper, and it only made him grip his cock tighter, his strokes becoming faster and more needy.

"I bet ya like that, don’t ya?" He grumbled to himself. "I bet ya fuckin' know I’m here."

It was impossible for him to ignore how badly he wanted to be the one touching you, to be the one making you sigh and moan for him.

"Jesus," he panted out and gasped. "Ya just keep fuckin' doin’ that, don’t ya, princess? Fuckin' hell..."

Struggling to remain silent, his free hand felt for the tree next to him, and he pressed it against the bark to steady himself. Though he was getting close to the edge and the tip of his cock was coated with pre-cum, he was determined not to cum just yet.

"Damn it, Dixon," he hissed at himself. "Look at ya, gettin' off to this all over again. Yer a fuckin' mess. Fuckin' pathetic."

There was still a part of him that wanted to stop, and he battled the shame and guilt that was building up and rising within him. But as your moans grew slightly louder and as you suddenly whispered his name into the darkness, it only pushed him further into his own desperate need.

"Hell’s she sayin'?" Daryl mumbled to himself, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus and concentrate on your voice. "Shit, she’s sayin' my fuckin' name..."

The sound of his name on your lips, even if it was only a silent whisper, made his cock twitch and pulse, and his strokes became more urgent with the intense need to finally cum.

"Fuckin' hell," he growled, his breathing coming out even more uneven. "She's gonna make me lose my shit. Just... just keep talkin', princess."

The way you were saying his name, the thought of you knowing he was watching, made it impossible for him to stay still. Finally, he couldn’t resist any longer. He stepped closer, his throbbing cock in hand, and let out a growl to make you notice him as he slipped inside your tent. "Ya really thought ya could just tease me like this?"

With your fingers still buried deep inside of you, your eyes snapped open. "Daryl?" Even though you knew that he was watching you, you let out a gasp, and your voice trembled slightly.

"Yeah," he said, taking another step closer. There was something else that turned him on even more than just the shock he could see in your eyes. "Thought ya could put on a private show for me, huh?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes never leaving his as he stood directly over you, his cock still hard and pulsing with every stroke of his hand. "A show?" You asked, your voice sounding a little shaky.

"Damn right. A show," he answered with a small smirk. "With me seein’ everythin'. Couldn’t stay away."

You pulled your fingers out of your pussy and tried to stand up, but Daryl pushed you back down with one of his boots on your shoulder. "Stay where ya are," he growled. "Don’t ya dare stop."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as you looked up at him, your heart racing. The realization about the rawness of the moment hit you, and you nodded slowly, your fingers sliding back into your pussy as you lay back down in your tent. Your eyes were locked onto his, and he could see the mixed feelings of shock, excitement, and lust in your gaze.

Daryl’s hand soon moved in rhythm with yours again, his strokes becoming faster and more urgent as he watched you. The sight of you, so shameless and wet for him, made him lose himself even more. "Ya know," he said, his voice still low and rough. "Ain't thought I’d see this day. With yer all spread out like this, knowin' I’m here, watchin' ya fuckin’ yerself. 'S a damn mindfuck."

You moaned in response, your fingers working in and out of your pussy with an increasing speed of your thrusts. "And you think you can just walk in here?" You taunted back and teased him. "You think you’re gonna get what you want, Dixon?"

Daryl’s eyes never left yours, his cock throbbing with need. "Ain't just here for the damn show," he growled. "I’m here to fuckin' claim ya. Ya got that?"

Your eyes widened, and you barely held back a loud moan, your fingers pushing deeper into your pussy. "And what makes you think I’ll just let you?" You challenged him back, your eyes wandering from his cock to his face again.

"Oh, I think ya fuckin' will," Daryl said, his voice full of confidence. "'Cause I fuckin' want to. And it’s my turn to take what I want."

Every movement, every quiet moan, and every word you both whispered to each other heightened the lust and need for the both of you. Daryl’s strokes on his cock became more frantic, and he could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with every stroke, but he was determined to hold off until he had fully taken in the sight of you.

"Gonna make sure ya know who’s watchin'," Daryl said quietly. "Gonna leave my mark on ya."

He positioned himself above you, and without saying another word, he pointed his cock at you, making sure that his cum would land where he wanted it to.

"I ain't done," he growled, his eyes locked on you. "Not yet."

He took another step closer, his hand still jerking his throbbing shaft, while his other hand reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you up slightly, just enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

"Do ya want me to finish like this?" He mumbled, his voice already hoarse. "Or do ya want me to make a fuckin' mess 'round here in yer tent?"

You didn’t have a chance to answer before he let go of your hair and moved his cock closer to your body again. He had seen enough, felt enough—he was on the edge and couldn’t hold it back any longer. With a low groan, he started to jerk himself off harder and faster, his eyes never leaving yours, and without warning, he came hard, his hips bucking wildly and his cum shooting out, landing across your body, most of it on your breasts and chin.

"Fuck," he muttered, still stroking his cock, but slowing down. "Look at ya. Just a fuckin' mess now."

You lay there, slowly pulling your fingers out of your pussy, your body covered with his cum. "You know," you suddenly started, your voice quiet but teasing. "You might be the first wildflower that might leave a thorn in my side."

A smirk formed itself on Daryl's lips due to the mention of the flowers, but it was quickly replaced by a look of embarrassment, and he shifted uncomfortably as he put his cock back into his pants. "Shut ya damn mouth, woman."

Without a word, he stepped forward, grabbed your head roughly by your hair, and yanked you up to meet his eyes. You couldn’t help but whimper as he was staring at you up and down, so dangerously close.

Daryl grinned at the noise you made and grabbed your neck with his other hand, the thumb going to your chin and gathering the rest of his cum that was slowly sliding down on it.

"Eat," he insisted, but before you could answer or protest in any way, he put his thumb against your lips and pushed it inside your mouth, waiting for you to suck it off.

And just as he pulled it out again, his mouth came crashing down on yours in a rough and primal kiss. It was demanding, and his teeth moved against your skin as he went down to the side of your jaw, sucking on every bit of flesh on his way down to your neck before biting down hard into it, leaving his mark.

His gaze then fell to your fingers, still glistening with the juices of your pussy, as he held you in a tight grip to keep you from falling due to your trembling legs. Slowly, teasingly, he reached out and brought your fingers to his mouth. His tongue slid over your skin, licking and sucking them off intensely, devouring every bit of what was left of you on them.

Daryl enjoyed the taste of you, and his eyes never left yours as he pulled back a little, his hand roughly grabbing your chin. "Don’t ya fuckin' forget this," he growled, letting go of you and watching as you stumbled back onto the ground in front of him before he finally turned to leave. "Yer mine in ways ya don’t even understand yet."

TAG-LIST: NONE. BECAUSE MY WRITING SUCKS.

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet Dreams

Summary: For you it was just a very intense wet dream, clearly never thinking a candle you bought at an occult store would give you the best orgasm you had ever experienced. For Dave York, cursed to fuck whoever lit said candle, you were a willing virgin waiting for him to take you.

Pairing: Ghost!Dave York x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: E

Warnings: non con/ dub con (I don't know how to tag this, reader thinks it's a dream, but it's really ghost Dave fucking her), smut (oral sex m+f receiving, unprotected sex), ghost cumplay, dream sex but not really, dirty talk, losing virginity, spooky stuff, candles (do not light candles and then go to bed!)

Shout out @clawdee for the idea with the cursed candle. Otherwise this whole thing would be even weirder lol

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Main Masterlist // Dave York Masterlist

Dave York had been watching you the moment your fingertips touched the candle at the little occult store you had been in.

He still had no idea who the fuck whoever cursed him knew who his next, let’s call them unknowingly willing partner, was, nor did he know how this all started.

One moment he was on top of a tower trying to kill that Fucker Hall, the next moment he found himself in a dark bedroom, his nose filling with the scent of sandalwood and cherry with a fucking hard on from hell with nothing on his mind but sinking into whatever hole was made available to him.

Hell.

Yeah maybe that was who cursed him.

Cursed him that the moment one of that cursed fucking scented candles were about to be lit, his body would become a vessel for all the dirty things those mostly not so innocent minds dreamed up, and he was only able to stop once he fucked his cum so deep inside of them, he became a part of them.

And it was always on fucking Halloween. Maybe it had to do with ghosts being able to walk the earth or some shit like that.

It’s not like he got a training at being a fucking ghost. (You get it? A fucking ghost… anyways)

He remembered the first time he had come back, he remembered the blonde woman he had fucked and he remembered not being able to stop. Like he would died (pun intended) if he did not fuck her in positions he hadn’t even tried out before until he passed out.

It’s like everything he did was controlled by someone or something. He just thought it easier to imagine it was the person who lit the candle who was controlling their little fuck session.

The longer he stayed dead, the better he got at influencing their wet dreams.

He had fucked them all.

Young women, old women, young men, old men, very old men, trans men and women.

Married women with their husbands sleeping next to them while he fucked their wife in ways they would only dream of.

And they were none of the wiser.

When they woke up after he fucked them for hours, after he blew out the candle (which the dad side of him saw as a fucking fire hazard, I mean who lights a candle and then goes to bed?) and went back to wherever he was until someone else lit one of those candles again, they only thought they had a super intense wet dream.

He long gave up on trying to figure out why his dick seemed get hard the moment a fucking candle got lit. Or how it worked. Or who chose who would got one of those candles. By now he was just enjoying the ride. (Or to get ridden, preferably reverse ;-)

I mean, who in their right mind would think a cursed ghost would appear after they bought and lit a sex dream candle at an occult store and fucked them all night?

But you…. He could tell you were special.

You were wearing a long black dress, a pointy black hat, a witch costume he realised, laughing about something the two girls who were with you were saying, reading out the instructions written on the glass of the candle out loudly.

„For hundreds of years the ingredients of this candle have been the same, sandalwood, cherry and some magical extra ingredients that will turn your deepest fantasies into a night full of pleasure,“ she read out loud.

You looked shy, arguing about spending money on a shitty candle just because there’s some silly line written on it.

„Do it for the orgasms,“ your one friend grinned and Dave could see how you were fighting with yourself.

„Imagine you experience such a good wet dream, you think you lost your virginity,“ your other friend whispered, making you slap her arm with a scandalised gasp before all of you giggled.

A virgin.

It had been some time since Dave got to fuck one of those.

Since he didn’t know how long he actually had been doing whatever the fuck he was doing, he only had a vague memory, but he thought it was at least some years ago.

His encounters all blurred together after a while.

He still watched you as you reread the writings on the candle before you brought it to your nose to inhale the scent.

„Fine. I am buying the sex dream candle,“ you sighed with a chuckle and he watched you go up to the counter any pay, his cock twitching.

He stayed back as you left the store, still none of the wiser about what was gonna happen once you chose to light the candle and go to sleep. He only stayed long enough to watch you walk down the street before he disappeared again, waiting for your call.

Which came eventually.

Dave was standing at the feet of your bed, watching you sleep, the candle lit on a dresser not too far away.

He was pleased to find you alone in bed, having thought of all the ways he wanted to have you ever since he had seen you in the store.

While partners sleeping next to his intended partner weren’t a problem, the candle seemingly taking care of doing whatever it was that it was doing also knocking them out, he preferred to be alone in the bed while he fucked his partner.

Letting his fingertips brush over your soft bedsheets, he closed his eyes, his clothes gone when his eyes opened again, his cock hard and already leaking.

He wanted nothing more than to pull your bedsheets away and sink into your virgin pussy, but decided that he wanted to take his time with you.

Ever so slowly he got onto your bed, crawling until he was hovering over your face, his head tilting to the side as he watched you.

He wondered if you would scream if you’d wake up right now. If you would slap him, scratch him, trying to get him off of you.

And deep down Dave knew that you would.

If you would wake up as normal you right now, he would be fucked.

But he knew the only part of your brain that would wake up during the next hours was the part that was absolutely feral and horny and ready to get fucked.

He smirked, leaning down, his nose brushing over your cheek as he inhaled your scent deeply, chuckling to himself when he felt you shiver.

He sat himself up, kneeling above you, your legs between his, pulling at your sheets until the only fabric separating his skin and yours was the buttoned shirt you had on to sleep.

Some buttons had come open, revealing some of your tits to his eyes and he licked his lips before he opened the last few buttons, slipping the fabric open.

„Fucking perfect virgin tits,“ he grinned to himself, his fingers brushing over your already hard nipples. He let his eyes wander, positively delighted to find out you weren’t wearing any panties.

„Dirty girl,“ he hummed before he leaned down to put one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it.

He let one of his hands slip between your legs, finding you already wet and dripping. His eyes caught what looked like your vibrator laying abandoned on the bed not to far away from you and he grinned to himself.

You were fucking touching yourself before he got here.

Playing with your pussy while he sucked on your tits he noticed your body reacting to him, one of your hands slipping through his hair with a soft sigh. When he looked up at you, your eyes were still closed but you were smiling.

„Gonna have a taste of this pretty pussy now,“ he said to no one in particular as he slipped down your body. He parted your legs for him, wrapping his arms around your thighs. His cock was fucking throbbing as he licked into you. Moaning at the faint taste of you, this afterlife not letting him have your full taste but just enough to drive him insane.

He played with you, feeling you trying to roll your hips against his mouth, a little sigh escaping your lips. He grinned as he played with your clit, one finger slipping inside of you.

„Wonder why nobody fucked this pussy yet. Is it you or is it them?“ He asked out loud, slipping another finger inside of you as he just looked up at you, your lips parted, your brows furrowed. You were clenching around his fingers and he was about to cum just thinking about fucking you. To be the first cock inside of you.

And you wouldn’t even know it happened.

He angled his fingers inside of you until you jerked against him and he grinned when he felt that spongy spot inside of you.

„You gonna cum for me,“ he hummed before he sucked your clit between his lips, swirling is tongue around it, and he felt the moment you fell apart, your back arching from the mattress, your lips parting in a low moan, your pussy squeezing his fingers like a vice.

„Fucking beautiful,“ he grunted.

He continued to move his fingers inside of you, prolonging your orgasm until he slipped them out, licking them clean. He sat himself up on his knees, his hand wrapping around his cock, pumping it slowly as he watched you.

He got some sick sense of satisfaction out of watching you just lay there, unconscious but willing to be fucked like a dirty whore. And he knew you were willing because he was only doing what you wanted.

Because you were dreaming it.

You were dreaming of getting fucked. He was just a vessel for your little dirty mind.

He hummed, bending down to kiss up your body, his lips closing around one of your nipples, playing with it. He lined himself up, slipping the head of his cock through your wet folds.

Letting go of your nipple with a plop he rested his weight on one arm next to your head, his face hovering over yours, watching you as he slowly pushed his cock into you.

He watched every expression of your face as he filled you, deeper and deeper, your pussy so wet he felt no resistance at all. When you gasped as he pushed through your barrier he grinned, his cock now fully inside of you.

The first cock you ever had.

The one you wouldn’t even remember.

„Not a virgin anymore you little slut,“ he grunted before he began to move. Fucking his cock into you wet pussy over and over again. He was surprised when you tilted your face up to kiss him, your eyes still closed. He hummed against your lips, his tongue parting your lips, kissing you deeply all while pumping into you faster and you moaned against his mouth.

Grinning he parted from your lips, pulling his cock out of you.

With little effort he turned you on your stomach, pulling your ass up so you were on your knees, before he was inside you again. His fingers digging into your hips as he fucked himself into you in hard quick thrusts.

You were so fucking wet you were dripping down his balls.

It wasn’t long before you began to meet his thrusts, now moaning shamelessly into your pillow while still deeply asleep.

He slapped your ass, before he leaned down to wrap his arm around you, pulling you up against his chest. With his hand gripping one of your tits as he kept you flush against his chest he pumped his cock inside of you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin the only noise in the room, apart from your moans.

„You gonna cum for me again,“ he whispered against your ear, feeling your shiver. Smirking his other hand wrapped around your neck, using only a tiny bit of pressure to choke you, your pussy clamping down on him immediately a loud moan escaping your lips as you came, Dave grunting behind of you as he fucked you through your orgasm before he groaned, biting into your shoulder as he came, fucking you full of his cum.

You were both out of breath, panting as he held you up. As soon as he released his grip around you you fell back into your bed and Dave chuckled to himself.

He was still hard.

And he wasn’t finished yet.

He moved to lay down on his side, putting your body against him, his cock entering you from behind.

„I wonder how many positions you wanna be fucked in before we’re finished,“ he hummed against your ear, his hand playing with your clit as he fucked into you.

It was almost time for the sun to come up when he didn’t feel the need to fuck you anymore.

You finally must be running out of ideas. Or you weren’t horny anymore.

No, not that. He could see your pussy still dripping from your shared releases. Of course you wouldn’t know it was his… ghost cum leaking out of you.

In the beginning he questioned if he would be able to impregnate someone like this, but by now he just didn’t care anymore.

He must say, this might have been his favourite encounter yet. He almost lost it when he was fucking your face, finding himself wishing you would open your eyes so he could see your eyes watering as he fucked your throat over and over again.

Who could have known how deeply kinky and horny you little virgin whore were?

He took one last look at you, sweaty and positively wrecked, the mark he sucked into your neck on full display, a soft smile on your kiss swollen lips, before he walked over towards your dresser where the candle was still flickering.

He blew it out, watching the smoke rise into the air, feeling his body get lighter.

When he turned around, already feeling his body slip into nothingness he was surprised to find your eyes opened and looking at him.

You were awake.

That had never happened before. He usually was gone before they woke up.

But before he could process what was happening or hear you scream he was gone.

Waiting for next Halloween when someone would light a seemingly innocent scented sex dream candle they bought at a witchy store, that would summon him to fuck them senseless.

#my fic #Dave York #Dave York x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #ghosts #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago

Text

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe Four - The Student

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

This time I found you at a university. Of course things couldn’t just be simple. You couldn’t just be a faculty member or even a damn janitor, no…you had to be my fucking student. Why couldn’t things be easy just for once? It’s fine…I’ll just have to figure out how to work around it…

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.

Word Count: 5k

It was a morning like every other.

You were on your way to your physics class, coffee in hand and your two friends on either side of you, Mira and Stacy. Mira had a skip in her step, excited about a guy she met at the coffee shop just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes, too concerned with the results of last week’s test in Dr. O’Hara’s class to be bothered with your friend’s endeavors.

“Hey!” Stacy screamed your name, grabbing your collar and pulling you back from the street and onto the curb.

A car flew by you, stopping your heart in your chest as you moved back from the street two more steps. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t paid any attention to the road. Stacy spat your name in a scolding manner.

“Jesus, you almost got yourself killed, what the hell are you thinking?” She shook her head.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a deep breath, “I guess I’m just…I’m so nervous about my test I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly,” she agreed, putting both hands on her hips like a parent scolding a child. “I’m sure you did fine on your test. You said you studied right?”

The three of you started walking again toward the building where your classes were held.

“Yeah, I did, but I mean…the last test I took I failed, I can’t fail again.” You felt dread weighing heavy on your chest as the large brick building blocked out the sun on your approach.

Mira patted your back. “You’re smart, I’m sure you did fine.” She chuckled as she jogged ahead toward the building. “Besides! I’m sure that Dr. O’Hara would let you suck his dick for a better grade!”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at Mira’s comment. She never ceased to say things that were embarrassing beyond belief. Everyone knew that Dr. O’Hara was hot. The man wore dress shirts, sure, but either he couldn’t find ones that fit properly, or he intentionally wore a size too small so people would know he worked out. It was hard to think about much else when his pectorals were so prominently displayed under a thin veil of fabric. It didn’t help either that his nipples seemed to be perpetually stiff, clearly visibly underneath his shirt, just like they were today.

“Good morning cl–”

Dr. O’Hara’s failure to finish his sentence caught you off guard, forcing your eyes on him as you walked the rest of the way into the room. You felt nervous, averting your eyes immediately and staring at the floor as you walked to your desk. After your friend’s inappropriate comment, and his lingering gaze, you couldn’t help thinking about things a student shouldn’t imagine about their professor.

Things like…what if you could suck his dick for a better grade?

He cleared his throat. “Alright class, I’m going to pass back your tests now.”

You’d done a fine job on your exam. Miguel’s predecessor, the Miguel of this universe, had already graded your paper and even put a little smiley face next to the number 87 in red ink. It was obvious that this one hadn’t made any moves on you, but he had taken a liking to you. That wouldn’t work in Miguel’s favor though. He needed you to be so desperate that you might be willing to go to great lengths to get your grade fixed.

The jealousy that stabbed Miguel in the gut when he realized that his alternate was enraptured by you made it easy to rid himself of the man. In fact, he felt nothing as he watched the life leave Miguel’s eyes. He felt nothing as he buried the man so far into the ground that no one would ever find his body.

It wasn’t that Miguel wanted to be predatory toward you, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was clear that you were younger in this universe than in previous ones. Your birth date was the same, he saw it in your records on the school database before he took over for your prior professor, but the year was different. He’d already gone through great lengths just to find you, so what was a little manipulation just to have you? You’d be grateful in the end, he just knew it.

He passed the tests around, watching you carefully to gauge your response to his little note he made at the top of your test.

Come to my office after your classes so we can discuss your grade and your future in my class.

You looked down at the glaring 62 on your exam with the note to meet Dr. O’Hara in his office later. A pit formed in your gut. The words, ‘your future in my class’, stuck out more than the rest. You gulped, hands shaking as you put the failed test in your book bag and turned your attention back to class. You hated that professors seemed to do that, handing out your tests prior to the start of class. How in the hell were you expected to focus for the rest of the class with the looming threat that you might be told to retake the class next semester?

He felt a little bad after seeing your face drop at the sight of the failed exam. In some ways Miguel missed the therapist. She was bold, more mature, and he felt like she was, personality-wise, the closest to you he had found thus far. In this universe you were naive, young, bright-eyed and inexperienced. In some ways that was exciting, thinking about how easy it would be to mold you into the woman he’d lost, or at least as close to the original as possible. In other ways he didn’t love the idea of corrupting you like that.

It didn’t matter though, in the end as long as he had you, whether by moral means or immoral, that’s all that mattered.

Later that evening, shortly after finishing your final class for the day, you found yourself standing outside of Dr. O’Hara’s office, knuckles rapping on the door in an uneven rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was deafening while you waited for him to open the door. Earlier you and your friends had joked about what you were going to do in there, but this wasn’t a movie, this was reality, and your professor wasn’t going to let you sleep your way out of a bad grade.

Not that you really wanted to do that anyway.

Your unusually tall professor opened the door, stepping back to let you inside. He was quiet when he locked the door, so quiet that you wouldn’t even notice he’d done it. You seemed a little smaller in this universe. Miguel wondered if it was because you were actually shorter, or if the fact that you were younger made it seem to be the case.

“I don’t understand why I got such a bad grade, Dr. O’Hara,” you turned to face him, failed test in hand, eyes already glistening wet with the threat of tears. “I worked really hard after you helped me understand it better.”

Fuck, he thought. His cock was already springing to life, slowly making his pants feel tighter while he looked at you. This was new territory that he didn’t know how to navigate. This wasn’t the type of person Miguel wanted to be, but he also wanted to start establishing his control over you now. If he could control you, he could keep you safe; he could have you.

“Yeah well, as you can see…” he snatched the test from your hand, “you didn’t do a very good job, did you?”

Something was different about Dr. O’Hara, you felt it as he ripped the paper from your hands. He was normally a very calm and collected type of professor, everyone loved him for that. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so harshly now. You clutched your book bag closer to yourself as though it would teleport you out of the room. He took a step closer, and you stepped back until your rear was against his desk. You felt trapped.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he said, seeing the terror in your expression. Miguel’s intention wasn’t to make you fear him, but at the same time, he was willing to do what it took to make you listen for once, since your alternates didn’t seem to pay his warnings any mind. “Look, I’d be willing to…fix your grade.”

He’d hoped that when he said it like that you would get the hint so he didn’t have to spell it out for you. Surely you’d seen enough pornos to know where this was going, right? It would make it less guilt inducing for him, and a lot less scary for you, at least that’s what he was thinking.

“Fix it how? Is there extra credit?” You decided to continue on like you didn’t know what he was playing at.

“You could say that,” he said, taking another step toward you.

There was no way he meant what you thought he meant. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating that you were supposed to fuck your way into a better grade could he? That was just a stupid joke you and your friends had laughed about, albeit frequently, but it was just a joke. He couldn’t be serious.

You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down to his tight-fit slacks and the way they were especially tight around his groin. You gulped, looking back up at his eyes quickly, trying to appear not to have seen anything. Maybe if you kept your eyes anywhere but on his bulge it would go away, and he would let this go.

But you wouldn’t be so lucky.

Miguel took another step forward, bringing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your skin gently. He smirked, feeling satisfied to touch you again. Spending all the time in the last universe, he’d almost forgotten what you felt like.

“I’m not going to hurt you, and if you just listen to me you might even enjoy yourself.”

No matter how much you told yourself to run, to kick, to scream, you just stood there while Dr. O’Hara leaned forward, claiming your mouth in his and melting into you. He lifted you onto the desk like you were weightless, pushing himself against you until he was almost laying on top of you. You kissed him back, but the rest of you was frozen, unsure how to respond. Should you even be allowing this to happen, or should you be trying to stop him?

What would you do anyway? Fight him off? The man was built like a damn tank. You could work out for a hundred years and still never come close to moving him. On the bright side, you would probably pass your class, though this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.

“P-please, Dr. O’Hara, s-stop–”

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing you deeper, “you want me to fix your grade right? You want to pass this class? Hm?”

He looked down at you, waiting for your answer, the guilt still nagging at him as he noticed a stray tear fall down the side of your face.

You nodded. “Y-yes, yes I do.”

“Then be quiet, and do what I say,” he demanded, sliding a massive hand up your skirt, his fingers teasing at the hem of your panties.

Your mind was racing with feelings you could hardly comprehend. On one hand, your body was tingling an overwhelming desire, a need to feel his touch in the most intimate way. His thick index finger tucked into the leg of your panties, knuckles sliding softly over your pussy lips. When he kissed you it didn’t feel like a dirty professor trying to take advantage, but rather a lover who wanted to take his time with you.

On the other hand, he was much older than you, and he was your professor. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t really interested in sleeping with him, despite the teasing from you and your friends.

That didn’t seem to matter now, he was pulling your underwear down your thighs and tossing them to the floor. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle fingers over your clit, forcing a choked whimper to escape your lungs. You thought about protesting his actions again, but decided against it. You didn’t want to piss him off, and you didn’t want to fail the class.

“There you go, honey,” he whispered against your lips, “don’t squirm too much okay? You’ll like it, I know you will.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to say otherwise. Dr. O’Hara pushed you down so your back was flat against the desk, his large hand pressed against your abdomen while his other started to undo his pants. You didn’t even want to look at it, so you stared out the window and kept your eyes trained on the gate at the entrance to the college campus. He exhaled a low and deep breath as he dragged the tip of his cock along your folds.

“Look at me, hermosa,” his voice was low, but still demanding.

You complied, turning your head slowly to look at him. Miguel tried to convince himself that you would come around, that you were just nervous for your first time together. He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t delusional either, but he needed to believe that you would come around, because working with the you that was right in front of him was better than the unknown of whatever versions he may encounter in other universes. ‘The devil you know’, and all that.

“Hold on tight, honey,” he warned, sliding his dick through your slick entrance. He couldn’t even make it halfway in before it was too tight. “F-fuck baby…shit.”

You cried out, all of your resolve falling to the wayside. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad.

“Dr. O’Hara pleas–”

Before you could even finish your plea his hand was covering your mouth. He shook his head, eyes narrowing dangerously in warning. You tried to beg with your eyes, your small sobs blocked by the brick wall of his palm only serving to make his cock throb inside your cunt. You grabbed onto his forearm, gripping it so tight your nails dug into his skin, but it may as well have been a pillar, unmoving and sturdy while he kept your mouth covered.

“Honey, please,” he hissed, his breaths of arousal interrupting his irritated tone. “I know it’s painful now but if you just relax, I’ll stretch you out so it won’t hurt anymore alright?”

You didn’t respond, and Miguel felt the guilt in his chest. The guilt didn’t outweigh the delicious feeling of your hole squeezing around the mere three inches he’d managed to get inside. He slid forward a little more, your eyes rolled back in response, your breaths turned into labored panting while you took him further.

“You’re doing great, hermosa,” he encouraged, “taking me so well.”

Your legs tightened around his waist as your cunt stretched even wider around him. He was bigger than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get free from him. Finally he bottomed out inside you, when you looked down at where you were connected you could see a bulge in your abdomen. Your eyes widened in fear, as though seeing it made it feel that much bigger.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he cooed, rolling his hips back and then snapping forward again, forcing a guttural groan to erupt from deep within you. “That’s it, fuck, so tight-that’s-it.”

Miguel established a steady rhythm that was made easier by how wet your little hole got. At least you’re physically enjoying yourself, he thought to himself, still trying to ease the guilt brewing inside him. His free hand grabbed onto your thigh, leveraging himself even deeper. The sight of his fat cock bulging up through your stomach made him harder, if that were even possible. He thought, for only a second, about the fact that you might not be on birth control, but then decided he didn’t really give a shit.

Your makeup was ruined, black rivers running down your cheeks while you cried even harder. When Miguel looked down at where your pussy was split around his dick he could see why, you’d made a bloody mess between both your bodies. He questioned why he thought that was hot. Causing you pain shouldn’t feel that good, but it did, the sight of your blood making his pace even faster.

“Didn’t know you had such a little pussy,” he breathed between thrusts, “so tight, so-wet-fuck.”

When Miguel thought about it, the two of you - himself and you from the original universe -, never got that rough. It wasn’t something he knew he would like, having power over you like that, causing you pain and listening to your cries. Hearing you whimper now though, laying on his desk with your legs wrapped around him while he split you open, was making him feral. If making you cry was bad, then why the hell did it feel so fucking good?

“Are you going to come for me, honey?” He asked in a low whisper.

You didn’t answer, you just kept your eyes on his, a silent prayer that he would stop. He couldn’t stop now though, he was so damn close.

“Next time m-maybe, holy-shit-fuck-fuck-FUCK!”

His hips snapped forward, stuttering and halting against yours. You felt the searing hot ropes of his spend while it spilled inside your walls, cock throbbing and stretching you further with every spurt. His breathing was deep, low, and you guessed that if he weren’t afraid of being caught he would be much more vocal. He tossed his head back, using the hand that was on your hip to push his hair from where it fell into his eyes.

Once he was finished, Miguel released your mouth, the post-orgasm clarity making his guilt take over tenfold.

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling out of you, the sudden feeling forcing a quiet cry from your swollen, trembling lips.

You didn’t speak. Now that he was finished you didn’t have words to say. What could you say? ‘You’re a monster’? ‘How could you do this to me’? ‘Why would you do this to me’? None of his answers would matter, and part of you still wondered if you’d asked for it some way. What else did you think your professor wanted you to come into his office for after all the classes had ended for the day? The red flags had been waving in your face and you ignored them. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you wanted this all along.

—

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from Miguel’s stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

—

Miguel shot up in bed, quickly realizing that he was dreaming, the reminder of that day still so fucking clear in his mind.

He looked at the calendar sitting above the coffee maker in his apartment. Well, his apartment. It had already been four long weeks that he’d spent in that universe trying desperately to get you to like him. He could tell by the look on your face though that you were still terrified of him.

He wondered if he should just leave, call it quits for this universe and move on to the next one. Miguel couldn’t shake the probability that something might be worse in the next universe though. What if he traveled there only to find that you were already dead? What if the next ten universes took him years to get through and eventually he was too old to keep looking for you? No matter how he looked at it, logically speaking, it was still better to try and work with the you in front of him, than to risk the unknown.

You couldn’t put into words the way you felt when you saw Dr. O’Hara every week in your physics class. You started sitting toward the back, hoping some other girl might grab his attention instead, but it never worked. He continued to summon you to his office in the late evenings, and he continued to fuck you until you could barely walk your way out of his office.

He terrified you.

And that terrified him.

“Dr. O’Hara,” the head of student affairs walked into Miguel’s office, pushing the already ajar door open and stepping inside.

“Oh, hi, Janice,” Miguel said, feeling his body become tense.

You better not have opened your fucking mouth, he thought.

“One of your students…” your name coming out of her mouth made him start to sweat, “...came to me and said she would like to drop out and take this class another semester. She said it doesn’t fit into her schedule right now so we need you to sign–”

“Halfway through the semester?” He asked, tone sharper than he intended. “No. She’s doing so well it would be a mistake.”

“It’s not really up to–”

“What’s the cutoff date for this kind of thing? Isn’t there always a cutoff date?”

“This Thursday is the–”

“No.”

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“Let me talk to her.”

The woman sighed, handing him the paper, “I think it’s a mistake too, for the record. It would be a shame to have to do all that work all over again.”

The woman left, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she walked down the hall. Miguel looked at the sheet of paper, hands shaking as he looked down at your signature. There it was. The same signature on your fucking marriage certificate, right there, telling him that you’d had enough and wanted to leave him.

He slammed his office door and walked over to his bag, the one where he kept your wedding photo. He hadn’t looked at it much since he’d left the original universe. The image of the two of you together brought him nothing but pain. He wanted you back so badly he was willing to rape a poor college girl that looked just like you in order to live in a fantasy that, deep down, he knew would never really hold a candle to the reality he once had.

Looking back he remembered the day of your wedding, the way you looked took his breath away. He was still mad that the therapist hadn’t worked out, if only she’d listened. Even the barista wasn’t too bad. She was a bit mouthy, but…no, he couldn’t stand the damn barista. She was a lost cause the moment she broke up with him.

Something told him that this version of you, the student, wasn’t going to work out from the beginning. He wanted it so badly though. When he tried to imagine a world where he could be happy with that version of you, he couldn’t. Even in the event he was able to convince you to marry him, or hell, even go on a date with him, he knew it would be all done in fear. You’d never look at him the way you did.

You would never love him.

You startled him when you opened the door to his office unannounced. You could tell because he scrambled to put something into his bag as you entered. His gaze was still so harsh, and you thought maybe you shouldn’t have come at all, but you were afraid your consequences would be harsher if you ignored his long standing request to meet him in the office during the evenings. You closed the door behind yourself, knowing that he would probably do it anyway if you didn’t do it yourself.

This is the last time, you thought. You do this one more time and then you’re done.

You hoped that by giving him what he so clearly wanted from you one last time, and perhaps being mature about it, you could convince him to let you go.

“D-Dr. O’Hara I–”

“You’re trying to drop out of my fucking class?” He snapped, eyes shooting spears through you.

You gulped, stepping toward the door, immediately regretting closing it behind yourself.

“W-well yes but I came to, um…well I thought we could–”

“Thought we could what?” He asked, standing quickly.

Regardless if you’d never love him, he was going to have to work with what he had, and right now he had a crying twenty something in front of him who was willing to do anything he said.

“We can do it just one more time and then I want to leave your class,” you whispered.

Dr. O’Hara strode over to you slowly, each step a booming quake that tore through what little determination you’d had when walking in there. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, leaning forward so his lips were against your ear. You hated that your body had become conditioned to react pleasantly to his touch, a tingling sensation spreading down to your core.

“What did you say?” He hissed against your ear.

You couldn’t speak. You wanted to repeat yourself. You wanted to convince him that this was what was best for both of you since getting caught would surely end his career. No matter how much you willed yourself to speak though, not a fucking word came out. The only sound you made was a pathetic whimper, a dumb little sound that you knew he liked; he always moaned whenever you made it.

“That’s what I thought, hermosa,” he whispered, “you can come back to my office tonight, and I’ll take good care of you like I always do, hm?”

He let go of you and stepped back, eyes scanning over your body and taking it all in as he had so many times before.

“Well, I-I can’t come tonight,” you admitted hastily, as though you might choke on the words if you didn’t spit them out.

“Why?” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes snapped to yours.

“Well my friends and I were going out tonight and–”

“No,” he said firmly, “you’re coming back here.”

Perhaps he’d said it too harshly, but knowing that there was a good possibility that this was the night of your death, your ‘canon event’ as he’d taken to calling it, he couldn’t risk you leaving his sight.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark glare in his eye told you that arguing was futile. It was clear that whatever this had started as, an exploitative endeavor, had turned into some sort of obsession that you weren’t going to be able to get out of easily.

“Please,” you mouthed, keeping your eyes on the floor.

He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so much guilt. Could he really keep this up? Would he really be able to spend the rest of both your lives looking into your fearful eyes and convince himself that it was alright? As long as he had you it didn’t matter if you were a little afraid…right?

“I know this is hard for you to understand, so I’ll make it simple for you,” he moved to grab you, but you slipped under his arm and started backing away.

“Stop doing this, please,” you were trying to get away from him now, another sign that this was probably a dead-end universe for him.

Miguel couldn’t imagine much worse than you being dead, but you feeling so afraid of him that you died trying to get away from him was right up there. He wondered if closing his oversized office window would’ve still resulted in your demise that night.

“Honey, I’m sorry, if you can just come here and have a seat we can talk–”

“No!” You yelled, continuing to back up, the open window at your back.

Miguel took a step forward.

“I’m not going to hurt you, let’s just–”

“You already did!” Your lips were trembling, your whole body was tense, “Stay away from me!”

“Mi vida, please!”

He watched you hit the low-sitting window sill. The school would get sued, no doubt, for not putting a screen, or at least some form of safety precaution, in place to prevent your fall from three stories up. He looked over the window sill, watching the blood spread from your body outward, covering the pavement below.

Miguel genuinely felt bad. He didn’t know if it was because he felt like he was losing you again. No, this wasn’t really like losing you. This felt more like guilt around causing the death of some college student who happened to look almost exactly like you, but she wasn’t really you.

In all honesty, appearance was the only thing this girl had in common with you. So Miguel wouldn’t shed a tear for her, though he would hold on to the turmoil he’d caused you in that universe for a while. He’d wear it with him to the next one, like a pin he’d collected as a souvenir. That thought actually made him laugh. It was the laugh of a man gone mad, but a laugh nonetheless.

Maybe by the end of his journey he’d have a whole stash of pins. Perhaps he’d be so weighed down by them that he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. It was entirely possible that a suitable replacement didn’t exist, and that maybe he’d never find the perfect one.

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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara noncon #miguel o'hara noncon #miguel o'hara non-con #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan fiction #miguel o’hara x reader

544 notes · View notes

diejager · 1 year ago

Note

Im going in hell

So like, i was reading ur yandere kind of brother!Ghost x little!sister!reader series and i was wondering:

How would he act around the house if he was living with her? How would he be with sister!reader in public vs in private? And how does he act with her after what happened in the nsfw sequel?

I HAD TO ASK COME ON, YOU LEFT US HANGING 🥲

Secret Cw: INCEST, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, smut, possessiveness, protective!Ghost, unprotected sex, PinV, fingering, tell me if I missed any.

You liked your privacy, you kept what little of love you had left behind closed doors, keeping your affection between the four walls of your house where you didn’t have to wear a mask to protect yourselves. Despite Ghost having a reputation to fear, deemed intimidating and threatening, he wasn’t shy of showering you with affection, a shadowy figure that loomed behind you protectively.

Your semblance of normalcy and intimacy were awkward —odd in some occasions. Something usual for you could’ve been something different or even disgusting to others, every hand and touch Ghost put on your seemed akin to a romantic one to the world, but to you two, it was your way of comforting the other, a soothing and grounding hand that would do anything to show the other that you cared, that you were here, that you were alive.

Price knew your backgrounds, he knew the things that happened to Ghost during those harsh days under Roba’s torture and your tendency of letting Ghost do whatever he wanted with you just to feel closer to him. Price might know that it was wrong, but he couldn’t do anything, only talk to both of you about some issues brought up by other members.

Despite having your own reservation about how physical Simon was in public, you couldn’t tell him no when he locked you both in your room, plunged in the pitch darkness of your dreary minds. In privacy, Simon takes off his mask, putting down the facade he built to protect himself, he’d touch you, hold you, press his lips on you and press himself against you. Simon was warm and chatty, telling you how you made him feel, you were his safety, his life, his spark, you drove him to continue on with this sad life of his.

Although you had a bed of your own, Simon made you sleep in his, hands wandering over your shoulder and back, dipping down the curve of your hips and the swell of your ass, cupping them firmly as if it were an attempt to ground himself in the moment. He was your comfort, so how could you tell him no? Perhaps it was a deluded way of thinking; perhaps it was the fear of being alone; perhaps Simon’s paranoia finally got to you, infecting your mind with his nightly terror.

His hands would dip under your waistband, blunt nails digging into the fat of your ass and slipping between your legs. Simon was slow and caring, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he spread you open on his fingers. He has you mewling, clinging onto him as you ride out your orgasm, feeling his thick fingers pump in and out of you with loud, wet squelches.

“That’s it,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to the corner of yours, tongue lapping at your tears, “Don’t cry, (Name), please- I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

He pushed himself in, the burning head of his cock dipping into your heat, crossing a line you once thought you couldn’t cross. Simon was big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, the stretch hurt - it wasn’t comfortable or delicious, it was painfully uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing - but you couldn’t help but moan, feeling his fill you up with a low groan. It hurt, both emotionally and physically, to be ravaged by your brother in his bed, unable to tell him no.

He was tender, slowly easing himself in and out, letting you adjust to his girth until he felt you clench around him. Once he was sure - in his sick and twisted mind - that you wouldn’t wince when he pulled out, he rolled his nips, snapping forward to drive his cock in. You held him as tightly as he held you, hands grasping his shoulders while he gripped your hips, legs hanging over his thighs and forehead pressed against his. He groaned out praises, brown eyes narrowed lovingly, peppering your face with kisses and sweet, disarming words.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he shuddered, eyes dazed, tears kissing the edge of his lashes before the dropped, rolling down your wet cheeks.

His body shook, wracked with tremors, breath coming out short and panting, pace erratic and hips rocking frantically. He pulled out, jerking his cock with soft moans, painting your stomach with white cum, standing out on your scarred skin. Knowing you hadn’t come, he reached down, thumb rolling your pulsing numb, watching you squirm and arch your back, walls spamming around his fingers as you reached your high.

“There you go, ” Simon whispered, wiping away his filth from chest and cradling you in his arms, softly cooing at your laboured breaths, “I love you.”

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

Note

heads up there are accounts on here within the cod fandom planning to mass report accounts that post dubcon/noncon fics. would be a shame to lose you to those losers

Yeah, I figured out that would happen eventually when I started getting weird comments and anonymous asks about my noncon stuff lmao mini rant ahead.

Whatever happens happens ig, I have my stuff backed up but it's annoying and discouraging to see people deciding to comment hate on dub-con/non-con fics as if there isn't a warning for that type of content on the beginning of every single dark fic I make. I've had people tell me I'm normalizing sexual assault/rape as if I'm not a victim myself, and that's mainly why I've stayed away from writing dark fics until lately.

The community can be exhausting, giving people the chance to remain anonymous and say all the stupid shit they want to say without any consequences to it. Can't even count the number of things I've deleted from my inbox and never bothered answering because they're simply weird, hateful, and just make me tired as hell.

It's insane how impossible it seems to be for people to simply scroll away when you see warnings of topics you don't like or that trigger you. Truly, it's as simple as blocking an account or dismissing the post, there are tags you can blacklist as well, so why does it seem so difficult to use common sense?

Anyway, just woke up and I'm exhausted. I'm going to be taking a small break from Tumblr and writing while I work on some other stuff and try to get inspiration for my fics<3 I love you guys, I've always been immensely thankful for the support I've gotten. We're at 4438 followers now, should get to 4500 by tomorrow. I'll come back with hopefully more original ideas and more practice!<3

If any of you guys would like to play MW2/MW3, hmu! andddd to my mutuals, if you wanna add me on discord lmk<3

#stray answers

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themotherofblood · 2 years ago

Text

Want A Drink?

Vampire!Daemon x Reader x Vampire!Rhaenyra

masterlist | Bloody Baby Series | Vampire AU

synopsis: Rhaenyra finds a doe eyed thing for her and Daemon to drink from, however she has a bad habit of playing with food.

warnings: dub-con? Kinda non-con? Feeding, blood drinking. threesome, oral (F), riding, compulsion.

a/n: I will take requests for this series :)

A masterful event, truly. The rooms of this old castle filled with enough free booze, loosened inhibitions and stumbling younglings draped in what they would consider cool clothing. This was a rather fun way to hunt, the days of random strangers in the forests had long dwindled decades before, this, this was chique - a classic way of finding a pretty someone to feed on and a hell of an excuse for party.

Rhaenyra, leaned against one of the many high tables, her senses working to find the one, if there was one. She shook her head, watching Daemon stumble and dance along with one the many girls that were fawning over him. Even with the wedding band glinting on his ring finger, these young broads didn’t care. Hands in the air as he moved to the beats - if only they knew what he was.

You tore through the thick crowd, all smiles and huffs as you came to rest your head on the table Rhaenyra stood by. The air so thick within, you needed to pull away for a minute. The smell even beyond the sweat and the booze, she could smell you. Even more so hear the running blood under your skin, lavender? No jasmine, that’s what you smelled of. You took deep breaths, trying to find air within the thick ambience of this room. You couldn’t - tequila, it had to be the tequila making you feel this way.

“You doing alright, love?” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed over the music in front of you.

You looked up, confused and a little dazed. Gosh, she’s so pretty you thought dumbfounded “I- yeah, it’s hot in here,” you replied, you looked up once more trying to breathe through your mouth this time as you lift your hair in your palm to ease away the heat.

“Come with me,” this time you hadn’t realized that she came to stand next to you, her frame towering over your as you came to stand straight. You looked back to where your friend was dancing with her boyfriend, just go, you nodded, taking her hand as she led you outside the grand room.

You mindlessly followed her, such naivety - crawling along with her to the monster’s den. She led you to a balcony, the crisp air of the night prickling goosebumps against your skin as you took yet another deep breath before your lungs fully let your chest to clear. You leaned against the balcony columns. Below in the courtyard, people stumbled over to trimmed shrubs, chatters and giggles echoed with the muffled thud of the music with every door opening and closing.

You giggled, shaking your head as it turned to chuckle. You had forgotten about the pretty woman still standing against the other column. She looked at you quizzically, what sweet sounds the corners of her lips up turned, wondering what intoxicated thought had you musing so. “What’s so funny?”

“This palace,” you coughed to halt your giggles “whatever fat lord had this made, I doubt he envisioned rowdy peasants fornicating in its bushes.” you laughed one more, pressing a hand to your belly.

“I’m sure he had many debauched plans, sweetheart.” Rhaenyra smiled, this time approaching you. Her little words of endearment didn’t go amiss as your cheeks flushed.

“He had three wives,” you blurted, the only thing you could do under the intimidating gaze of her purple contacts.

Rhaenyra’s brows waggled, she looked curious, a little knowing. “history student, are you?” She tucked a piece of your loose hair behind you ear.

“Hobby really,” you shook your head, feeling sandwiched between the marble column and this - this angelic lady dressed in maroon.

“What else do you know,” she whispered, her thumb still grazing over your cheek.

“There lived a Queen here, once, with her husband and his three wives,” your breath hitched as she grew closer “he died for her and she died in grief.”

“How terrible,” Rhaenyra murmured, you’re so pretty your mind began to scream so loudly that your actually said it. She pulled back looking amused, her thank you?

She finally closed the space between the two of you, one hand snaking around the small of your waist as the other held you cheek. The smell of vanilla and wood was hit against your nose as her lips moulded against yours. You squeaked into the kiss, frozen for a moment until you gave in. Letting her lips melt your to putty in her hands as she explored your mouth. Breathe, breathe - so overwhelming as you gasped breaths of air within the short pause.

“Enjoying without me, my love?” A man’s voice tore you away from the daze Rhaenyra was lulling you into.

A man with silver hair stood leaning against the glass paned balcony door, his cream shirt unbutton to his sternum, “Isn’t she just a beauty, Daemon,” Rhaenyra chides, before pecking your lips once more.

You looked between both of them confused, were you a home wrecker now? “I’m sorry- I- I didn’t know you were married,” you said eyeing the ring on the woman’s finger.

“Shh- sh It’s alright, Daemon doesn’t mind. Do you honey?” She began nipping at the expanse of your neck.

“My…you really are pretty,” Daemon said approaching you. Your mind seemed to have been in a trance, the way they looked at you, smelled, the hold of their fingers in each wrist.

“You are going to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Daemon asked, his thumb grazing your lip. it felt like a demand, your on consciousness slipping. You nodded, letting his thumb push in as your suckled around it.

You were in and out after that, but mostly you were warm. So very warm, perhaps it was the giant fireplace in their bedroom, the only warm yellow light of the room. There were spurts your remembered.

“Such a good girl,” Rhaenyra moaned as you kneeled between her legs, lapping away at her cunt with your nose pressed up against her clit as she rolled her hips against your tongue “just like that.” Daemon’s grip on your hair was tight as he kept your face against his wife’s pussy, admiring the scrunched look on her face you licked away at her needy bundle of nerves.

The mere moments of lucidity passed once more as your mind dwindled to the warmth, the next you were straddled and Daemon’s hip. His cock deep within you as you rolled your hip and bounced on his cock, “can we keep her? I want to keep her?” Daemon groaned, feeling the vice grip of your cunt milking him.

“Hmm, she would make a fine pet. Look at her.” Rhaenyra whispered from behind you, she hands pinching and rolling your nipples in between her finger as you pleasures her husband.

You felt her pressing kisses onto your neck as you weight fell back against her, exhausted and wanting as Daemon yet agains began rubbing your clit, hood pulled back as he flicked against the reddened bud. You felt a sharp graze, maybe the woman’s fingernails. You whimpered, dazed as your felt the warmth in your belly stir, you were close and all three of you knew it. Daemon thrusted his hips upwards, his fingers unrelenting as you played with your bundle of nerves “that’s it darling, come for him.”

Rhaenyra sounded desperate, her eyes blown as she watched Daemon face scrunch up. She was hungry, she wanted to taste you against the blood rush. You squealed once more, a moan stuck at the back of your throat and Rhaenyra gave in. Sinking her fangs into your jugular and moaning when the thick crimson liquid hit her tongue. Blood dripped from the opened wound down your torso as you thrashed against their tight holding. The initial scream still ringing in your ears as you felt Daemon’s tongue flatten on your sternum and lick up the dripping blood. The fear has blown your eyes wide, tears polling around them.

Your heart thudding as you tried to fight against them, barely making any headway “Shh- you’re alright,” Daemon wiped at your tears, his eyes dilated and then calm, your heart was no longer thudding “you are safe.”

“I am safe,” you mumbled as Daemon lifted your wrist to his mouth before he too sunk his teeth in deep.

When you woke up next morning, messed hair and aching in a soft (too soft) bed, one unlikely to be yours. You groaned pulling yourself up, a gentle sting running down your body as you took in the silk pink nightgown your body was dressed in. Your mind wavered for moment until it focused in on their faces, the silver woman and her husband Da- Daemon. Your friends would surely freak out when they find out you fucked two people in one night. Your fingers grazed at your lip and then it all came crashing back.

Teeth, your neck. The bandaging on your wrists, heart thudding against your heart, praying that perhaps it had been a bad dream. You stopped at the giant body length mirror, multiple bite marks down your thighs and legs. One on each side of your neck, what the fuck, you winced ripping the bandage from your wrists. Yellowing bruise and two distinct wounds sunken into you skin, still bleeding. You had to get out of here, you had no idea where your phone or your clothes were but all you did was run.

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat in their dinning room, the cleaners already having returned their palace to its pristine nature. They looked rather pleased with themselves and the events that took place last night. “We should have dried her out,” Daemon groaned, eyes fixated on his glass of scotch.

“We should have,” Rhaenyra agreed, “we could just keep her.” she repeated Daemon’s words from the night before. It had been nearly a century since they shared a companion together. The end wasn’t so pretty for the last one but perhaps this time it would be different, Rhaenyra had become far more capable at curbing her blood thirst.

Daemon dryly chuckled “What? Should we just ask her to be our human blood bag?” A stale joke since they had much other plans to be within your company. You were far too warm, to sweet to let go. “Looks like Ms Blood bag is awake.” Daemon notes the distinct sound of footsteps hurrying along the grand staircase. He downed his cup of scotch before signing.

You were running, unsure which way to go at first but the hallways were organized enough to lead your straight to the enterance. Barefoot and naked another this flimsy night gown, you didn’t care you just ran. Just as you were about to reach the main door and push past it. You crashed into a hard body, stood looking unimpressed at your little attempt at escape. You screamed as he held onto you.

“No! No no- please let me go.” You yelled “Let me go!”

Daemon just stood there, hoping your outburst would heel on it’s on, unwanting to compel you once more. He needed the fear to subside on its on. Rhaenyra walked along calmly from the dinning room to the enterance, watching your frame thrash as your screams echoed through the palace. Daemon sunk to the floor, trying to shush you but looking extremely irk. Rhaenyra bent to your level as she pushed your hair away from your face. She too didn’t want to compel this away.

“Please, please don’t kill me,” you begged “I’ve barely lived.” Tears fell past your eyes that she wiped away.

“We don’t want to kill you, darling.” She hummed.

“No?” You whimpered, confused at her soft demeanour.

“We want you to be ours.”

I’m thinking of making this a Dark! AU, like eventual Stockholm Syndrome kicks in vibes and maybe she is actually happy. I will take requests for this AU right now. So if you have any ideas with Ms Blood Bag and Daemyra don’t me afraid to send a request ;)

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :)

#daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemyra vampire au #vampire au #daemyra x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon smut

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ashleyloveswriting · 4 months ago

Text

I'm Taken.

context | warnings: smut, cheating, infidelity, creampie, drugs, drinking, dub-con, non binary!!

you clutch onto your pink cup tightly, chest tightening up as your boyfriend walks away during yet another argument. you rub your forehead, roll your eyes and deeply sigh as he goes to join the rest of the party, disregarding your feelings.

you make your way through the crowded space, watching how everyone else's evening seemed to be going their way. you go to sit on an empty sofa and drown in your thoughts before being abruptly interrupted, "where's your little boyfriend?"

you look up and see a tall pale man, he has a kind sympathetic expression his face as he speaks, shooting a brief glancing down to your cup. "why the fuck would i know, go find him." you snap at him. your eyes momentarily glance at his cup and you can't for the life of you remember what the purple cup meant.

"well yer the one gripping onto that cup like your life depended on it," he says while a teasing smile grows on his face, finding humor in his own words. you look down at your cup and for the first time you're overly aware of how tightly you’re gripping onto it.

you relax your muscles and put the cup down, “yea ‘m sorry, just been a shitty night.” he nods and sits down next to you. “oh no i totally understand, relationship issues?” he asks intuitively; turning his body to face you completely. “yeah, something like that,” you dryly laugh.

he rests a comforting hand on your thigh, and for the first time tonight you get a good look at him. his snowy white hair rests wildly on his head - falling just below his eyes, framing his beautiful porcelain skin. his piercing eyes are just barely concealed behind a pair of shades as his gaze bore into you like a lion eying his prey. which in a way was an exact metaphor for your current position.

“well otherwise, are you enjoying yourself?” he asks and you nod, “besides being dragged here and having a banging headache, yea.” he stands up and takes your hand in his, “follow me.”

he leads you upstairs through different crowds of people, and you stop at a door. he pulls a key out of the back pocket of his pants and unlocks it. he swings the door open and ushers you in with hand to your back. “go sit on the bed,” he says while walking off to the connected bathroom.

you hear him shuffling in the cabinets and get nervous, “what are you doing in there?” you ask; silence. you call out for him and yet again you’re met with silence. you get up from the bed and walk towards the bathroom, hop-scotching over random articles of clothing on the floor. “hell-

you’re cut off by him shoving a hand in your face carrying a small pill, “here, take this for the headache.” he grabs a lone glass from the bathroom sink then fills it with water, handing you the glass.

you go against all of the common sense you had and take the pill from the random man. he watches you intently as you swallow the pill while taking the empty glass from you.

“that should make you feel allll better,” he says, emphasizing the ‘all’. you thank him and go sit on his bed. he joins you with his purple cup now cradled in his hand.

you lay back on the bed and let the medication take its effect. satoru gets up from the bed and locks his door, which youre too zoned out to notice. “how long have you and you little boyfriend been together?” he inquires, laying his body next to yours. “9 months today, but instead of going on a date he drags us here, and insists on us getting green cups. like are you fucking serious? 9 months together and it’s ‘complicated’ it’s a bunch of bullshit.” you spill out in one breath, putting finger quotes on “complicated.”

“by the way, i don’t think i ever caught your name,” you question, turning your attention from his ceiling to his face; he's already looking at you though. "its satoru." he says, "sa..to..ru," you repeat back.

"yea, just like that." he says amusedly, his hand comes to your cheek and you can't help but smile at him. your brain is telling blaring with red flags. you shouldn't be doing this; what about your boyfriend? this guy is a total stranger.

but by now all those loud thoughts are nothing more than a lingering afterthought now that his soft lips are pressed onto yours. the kiss deepens and now you're straddling his lap, the kiss not breaking once. your shared arousal is nearly physically palpable, and his hands are groping you in the most erotic way, eliciting the lewdest plaint moans out of you. moans that could selfishly only be heard by him due to the loud overbearing music coming from downstairs.

"you want this? tell me you want it or i'll stop." he says. his fingers dig into your sides, aiding his maneuver to getting you on your back. you moan into his neck while his knee rides up the sheets into your crotch, you grind into it. "can't hear you baby," he whispers in your ear. "i want it satoru," you say quietly. its quiet for a second before hes back at it again, "cant hear you." he taunts.

you roll your eyes, yes you're horny but he's pushing it. "just fuck me already," you order at him. he smiles, "that's what i wanted to hear." he says while pulling your top over your head. he admires your body and removes his shirt as well.

the blasting music is now tuned out and its now just a quiet ambience. his hands fervently grope at your chest, and you can see his lust clouded eyes as his glasses slip further down his nose. he rests an arm under your back and pull you into him for easier access to your hardened nipples. he sucks at your chest and just about everywhere else, purposefully marking you up just for your boyfriend to see. you look so fucking hot like this he thinks.

he pushes you back on the mattress and takes off your bottoms, throwing them to join the other clothes on the floor. he admires your thighs and lowers himself to level with them. "let's get these out the way, hmm?" he asks teasingly.

you look down at him and nod. his shoulder muscles are now prominent as he's propped up on his elbows. he pulls your underwear to the side and starts prepping you for his length.

"itll be fine if we just get to it right?" he says as he works two of his digits into you. you're also now propped up on your arms now, getting a better view. he works his fingering at a satisfying euphoric pace, earning passionate moans from you.

"fuck- i can feel you clenching around me," he says while still prepping you for him. he pulls out and start unbuttoning his pants.

"i don't have any protection, that's okay right?" he inquires as he's now removing his drawers. "yea, as long as you pull out." you reply.

he agrees to the terms and starts palming his length, already hard. "i wanna take you on your stomach, so turn over for me will ya," he says while scootching up on the bed.

his hips line up with yours and he starts to insert himself. you both groan as he pushes in deeper until you reach the base. once he feels you wrapped all the way around him, he pauses and let you adjust.

"start fucking yourself on my dick when you're ready," he says while his hands rest loosely on your waist. once you feel fully comfortable you start to thrust back into him. once you get to a good pace he takes over and starts fucking into you at an accelerated pace.

his thrusts are now merciless, exposing him as a selfish lover. he fucks you like he's been yearning for it his whole life and you just moan and take it. a tight grip is now on your throat, and he pulls your back to his chest, continuing his vehement pace. "tell me he can't fuck you like this," he commands into your ear. one of his hands holding you up by the jaw and the other supporting your waist.

"c'mon, say it baby, say his dick doesn't feel this good." he commands once again. "woah, you like it when i talk to you like the dirty little slut you are, just fuck- just fuckin' clenched around me harder." he grunts into your ear and fucks you at a slowed pace, yet not any less insatiable and eager. you try to speak but it's hard while being fucked so avidly.

you're now babbling out incoherent words, a mix of 'please' and 'thank you' yet you're not clear minded enough to understand exactly what you're saying please for. whether it's for him to please fuck you harder or if it's for him to please slow down. you're not sure what you want right now, but it's certainly not for him to stop.

a ring of milky white liquid starts to form around his cock, and he's getting turned on at the sight. his thrusts speed up into something more desperate, and it's your breaking point.

"such a fucking slut cummin' around my cock like that, does your boyfriend not fuck you good enough?" he taunts at you while youre convulsing in his hands.

he lets you finish climaxing in his arms then drops you back to the mattress. your now squealing away from his constant thrusts, close to overstimulation but he doesnt slow. hes desperate to reach his own high now, and if your lewd moans and body wasnt enough to send him over the edge; nothing would.

his thrust are now slowed and sloppy, the telltale sign of orgasm. his hands are now roughly digging into your sides, desperate to not let you out of his grasp. he thrusts a few more times before he fills you up with his fresh warm load. he moans sensually as your suck him dry of all he's got, and leans into you while quickly pulling out.

his body drops besides yours and you cuddle into his side, "you pulled out right?" he nods then places a dry kiss on your forehead, "of course i did baby."

you're way too busy basking in the afterglow to notice otherwise, except now you're remembering what the purple cup meant.

comment on original post to be added to tag list

#choose your own path #lulawrites #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #follower milestone

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intoxicated-chan · 11 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐈𝐧-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝

Summary ➳ With a suspended license, you took the risk of picking up your brothers from a bar and when caught, Officer Walsh gives you a choice.

(A/n) ➳ I just realized that I’m still on season 3… I might end up rewatching season 1 and 2… Yeah, I’m rewatching it.

Word Count ➳ 1.4k

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, NO OUTBREAK, DARK SHANE, DARK CONTENT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sexual content, , heavy profanity, mentions of drugs, alcohol use, oral (M), abuse of power, face-fucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling…

DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI 18+

“Don’t be blamin’ me you damn dipshits!” You shouted over the phone as you struggled to boot your boots on. “How the hell did he even get kicked out?” You threw on your jacket.

“The hell was I supposed to know he was gonna get drunk?”

“You’re with him!”

“Jus’ get yer damn ass over ‘ere!”

“My license is suspended! Where’s your car?!

“The piece of shit broke down! It’s late, the cops ain’t gonna do anythin’.”

“Easy for you to fuckin’ say.” You groaned, grabbing Merle’s truck keys and walking out of the door. You angrily hung up on him, cutting off his cursing at Merle and loudly crashing.

You shoved the worn out key into the ignition, and felt that familiar click. You turned the key and waited for the engine to turn on. There’s a low rumble but then a silence.

You grumbled and turned the key again, it grumbled a little louder this time but nothing. “For fuck’s sake!” You shouted and tried it again, finally it turned on.

You changed gears and backed out of the driveway, and hurriedly drove to the only bar closest to where you all lived.

You again changed gears and turned on the radio as an attempt to calm down, but you knew it wasn’t helping when you were still cursing about Merle. You gripped the worn out steering wheel, trying to tune out the strange rumbling from the engine.

Urgency ran through your veins, and you didn’t pay attention to how fast you were going. It was nearly midnight, barely anyone was on the road.

From the familiar signs, you were at the outskirts of the town, just a couple of minutes away.

“Dammit!” You smacked the steering wheel as the red and blue lights appeared right behind you. A wave of uneasiness overcomes your anger, the last thing you wanted to was be arrested for evading the police.

The flashing lights illuminated the dark road as you pulled over, bringing the truck to a park. You can see from the mirror the officer leaving his car and speak to his radio.

You rolled down your window as he approached the truck, leaning towards the window. “Evenin’, ma’am. What brings you out here so late?”

You contained your frustration and put on a smile. “Just tryin’ to pick up my brothers from a bar.”

You felt like he stared longer than he should, you could see him scanning the inside of the truck, taking note of various Merle’s stuff scattered across the back seat.

“License and registration.” He asked.You reached over and opened the glove box and handed him your registration. He took the paper and lifted an eyebrow. “License?”

“Look officer…?” You looked at his badge but he beat you to it.

“Walsh.”

“Walsh, I don’t have it.”

You could see the disappointment in his eyes, he pulled out his pen and notepad. “Name and birthdate?”

“(Y/n) Dixon-”

“Dixon? Which would make you related to Merle Dixon?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Yes, he’s my brother. Look, I ain’t got time to talk. Can’t I just-”

“I’m assumin’ this ain’t your truck.” Before you could say anything else, he began to circle the truck with a lit flashlight in hand.

“Fuck me.” You mumbled, knowing Merle, he probably had some illegal substances hiding in wherever. “Fuck you Merle.” You cannot have a drug charge on your record, you could not have that.

“Can you step out of the vehicle for me?” He said out loud, coming back to the door.

“Officer-”

“Don’t make this difficult, Dixon.” He took a couple steps back, a hand on his hip as he waited for you. You unbuckled your seatbelt, turned off the truck and stepped out of it. “You have anythin’ you hidin’?” He questioned you.

“Nope.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

Shane smirked, turning off his flashlight. “You know what happens when you drive without a license?”

“Officer Walsh, my brothers need me to pick them up. Just write me a ticket and let me be on my way.”

“Drivin’ late at night, without a license? You know how dangerous it is?” He said. “Givin’ you a ticket ain’t gonna be enough.”

“Officer-”

“I’ll give you two choices.” Shane maneuvered around you, shutting the truck door, blocking the door. “I can arrest you and get you booked which could take…” He counted using his fingers. “A hour to a couple hours-”

“Then arrest me-”

“Minus waitin’ for your case.” Shane lowered his hands, grinning. “Or…” His hands reach for his belt, ready to unbuckle it. “You can get on your knees.”

“The hell I am-!”

Shane loudly hushed you. “You want me to turn a blind eye?”

You stumbled over your words, a mix of excuses and curses. But the shit eating grin was still on his face and when you took a glance at his crotch, he was already hard.

“You’re disgustin’.”

Shane shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Be a good girl, Dixon. Don’t be keepin’ your brothers waitin’.” He pulled himself out of his pants, and pumped himself slowly. “Get on your knees.”

“Fuck me.” You muttered under your breath, doing as he said.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You rolled your eyes and took him into your hands, jerking him off with a disgusted look on your face. You refused to look at him or his cock, keeping your gaze on the ground.

From base to head, you stroked, twisting your hand around it.

You wished to yourself that he would quickly cum and get on with your night. You tried to focus on something else and hoped that if anyone did pass by they wouldn’t see.

Shane grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it back roughly, a gasp lifted your lips. He shoved his thumb into your mouth as the rest of his fingers held your face.

He breathed heavily and plunged himself into your mouth. He forced you down to the base, his pubic hair itching your nose, making it scrunch. His hips began to buck and your jaw slacked.

Your hand clutched his pants, your nails digging into them. Your eyes shut tightly as each time he touched the back of your throat, you gagged.

Your saliva dripped down your chin, and when he tugged at your hair, you whimpered. The pain was unbearable as he took joy in seeing you in pain, your hot tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.

“You’ve done this before?” Shane sneered at you, throwing his head back and moaning quite loudly. It was like he didn’t care if he got caught. “You sure have a fuckin’ talent!”

Shane didn’t care for any discomfort you were feeling, all the stress that Merle and Daryl caused in the past was being taken out on you.

He pulled back until it’s just the head of his cock in your mouth then thrusted back in. Again and again, his hand tight in your hair, thrusting as hard and deep as he could and his cock glistening with saliva.

“Look at me.” He panted. “C’mom, look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, your eyes snapped to his, watery and wide, full of anger.

He cursed at you, biting down on his lip as the orgasm builded in him. He then held your head still as he was so far deep that your body jerked.

Shane gave out a loud grunt as he came inside and down your throat. You started to choke, you punched his thigh a couple of times before he threw you off him.

You hit the ground, coughing. You hissed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The salty and bitter taste in your mouth made you retch.

He let out a sigh of relief, tucking himself back into his pants. “Drive safely ma’am.” He laughed once again as he walked to his car. Once you were sure he drove off, you picked yourself up from the ground and quickly drove to the bar.

“Took yer sweet ass time!” Daryl shoved an unconscious Merle into the backseat before getting into the passenger side. “The hell happened?”

“Cops.” You packed out of the parking spot and drove, trying to focus on the road.

“Anythin’ happen? Ya alright?”

“Yeah, let me off with a warnin’.”

“Seriously-?”

“I’m tired Daryl. Just let me get this asshole home.” You couldn’t focus, not without the bitter taste in your mouth, drowning out Daryl’s attempts to wake his brother for his phone.

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 8 months ago

Note

*crashes through your ceiling from your attic*

Hello, do you have any darker headcanons on the Kings or any devil in general? I would love to hear what's cooking up in that beautiful big brain of yours :)

Pffff hi????? I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that people I follow in here actually care about my writing. Anyways, yeah I do have some darker headcanons

Tw: possessive behevior, physical assault, implied dub-con and non-con (Abaddon is just silly like that)

Lucifer got so attached to Gamigin that he became extremely protective of him. Never lets Gamigin outside of Paradise Lost and made him install one of those tracking apps so he knows where he is 24/7

If Leviathan feels like you're spending too much time with other people, he'll lock you in his coffin with him. He calls it bonding time, but you're not allowed to leave until you either faint from lack of oxigen, at which point he begrugently opens the lid or you proclaim your undying love and adoration for him.

Speaking of Leviathan

He chokes you while you sleep. While you sleep in Hades, he's always watching you rest. His delusions and paranoia get the better of him sometimes and he gets on top of you and wraps his hands around your neck while mumbling nonsense about protecting hell. He'll never kill you, but you might wake up with marks in the morning.

God ingeniered devils to be madly in love with their kings and seak their approvel. Since demons might get tired of their king, especially while the kings were children, God made sure that it wasn't a possibility. So the kings are inherently more adverst to date their nobles since it would be weird to date a person that was made to worship you.

Didn't stop Asmodeus tho

The devils in Abaddon don't care about consent because everyone in Abaddon is a willing participent in sex 24/7. So you constantly need a body guard team if you want to go to Abaddon without getting jumped at. Even then, the guards you're with will need to be powerful enough to not get affected by Asmodeus' power.

I have a lot of Abaddon and Asmodeus hc but we know fuck all about these two and I'm scared that I'll write more for an OC version of Asmo than what we'll actually get in game. If anyone's interested in Abaddon fuckery 👀 just say so

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb lucifer #whb gamigin #whb leviathan #whb abaddon #whb asmodeus #abaddon is its own trigger warning tbh

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adaptacy · 1 year ago

Text

Johnny Slaughter x Drunk!Virgin!Reader

It is angsty, and kinda sad, and very dub-con (practically non-con), and also just- Johnny with feelings? if streams of consciousness don't make sense, that's the point. also i'm tired so sorry for spelling mistakes or if i just use the wrong word sometimes LMAO

"Alright, I've gotcha." You were leaning all of your weight into him as he sauntered down the sidewalk, and you didn't let up even as he inserted the key he'd just received into the door, twisting the handle and opening it up into a half-assed room, typical for the cheap motel you were staying up.

"You really... mmbooked 'em just for... me?" You slurred, your head lazily flopping onto his bicep as he led you inside, closing the door behind him.

"Didn't tell me you were such a lightweight," the man sighed, helping you over to the white queen-size bed, which you didn't put up any fight against, collapsing onto the comforter and giggling. At what? You didn't know.

"We should, mhmhm, kiss." You blinked, slowly, up at him, seeing triple. Triple hot. Triple hunk. Triple gentleman. He was being so sweet. He carried you here, gave you a ride, he promised your parents wouldn't figure out that their golden child was getting wasted at some rural bar miles away from home. He was so caring.

Sure, you'd only known him for like two hours, but those two hours said so much. He didn't say much. Well, he did. Flirted a lot. Was he flirting? Did you misunderstand? No, no, he got you a motel room. Just for you. He was definitely flirting. He was like a guardian angel, wasn't he?

You made a mistake, a lot of mistakes, actually. A lot of shots. A lot of alcohol. Glasses and glasses of mistakes. But he was here to make sure you wouldn't be making anymore. He was protecting you. God, what a sweetheart. "What's your name again?" You mumbled, your tongue twisting around itself to form some terrible labyrinth.

"Johnny," he reminded, bending down over you and catching your lips in a kiss. His was gentle, but forward. Yours was sloppy, messy, hungry, dazed. You were sloppy. And messy. Oh, your parents would never forgive you.

"Johnny, I'm so... ugh, you're lovely," you complimented, your nose bumping against his as he tried to kiss you again, but you just had to let him know first. "So loving. We should get married," you giggled.

"Baby steps, darlin'."

"I'm your darling?" You hummed, smiling sweetly. Innocently. What the hell were you doing? No wonder the bartender warned you. But he paid for your drinks. He was just so generous. How could he possibly be single? You were so lucky to have him. "I think I love you."

"You're crazy," he laughed, the sound sweet and appetizing and so manly. You laughed too, because you wanted to be like him. Wanted to take care of people like he was. Wanted to be big and strong like he was. Wanted to be so sweet, wanted to kiss like he did. He was perfect. He kissed you again, and you kept giggling, your skin crawling with... excitement? nausea? you couldn't really tell the difference. "You wanna go through with this?"

With what? "Mhm," you hummed, closing your eyes for just a moment. Then you opened them again, and he was still there. All three- two? Four? All of him- them? Ugh. "Yuh-huh," you affirmed. If he wanted to, you'd do it. No clue what 'it' was, but he was a good decision maker. You were clearly, definitely, obviously, drunkenly not.

"You done this before?"

"Yeah." Done what? You'd done a lot of things. You hadn't gone skydiving. Or bungee jumping. What a funny word. Bungee. Bun-gee. "Bunnn, geeee," you announced, and Johnny squinted at you. You giggled. What'd he say?

"I'm gonna take yer shirt off now." He kissed your cheek, and you nodded. Was he going to get you into a bath? Oh, he was such a sweetiepie. Like a grandmother. But hot. and muscular. and young. and had a way deeper voice. and, actually, he wasn't like a grandmother at all. but he still made you smile.

He removed your shirt, and you tried to lift your head to kiss him, but your head was so heavy, and your muscles were so weak. Ugh, you wished you had muscles like him. he could lift your head. you definitely couldn't.

The best part was, he did lift your head. and he did kiss you. He was a mind reader, too? Was he even real? Men like this didn't exist. Not really. men as sweet, and loving, and gentle, and-

His hands were on your pants. Strange. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. What was his name again? "Joey," you thanked.

"Johnny," he corrected.

"Mister Johnny," you slurred, brushing noses with him. He kissed you again, and he tasted like the bar. He'd been drinking too. He was like your drunk-buddy. Drinking buddy. And designated driver. A perfect package. Why are engagement rings so expensive?

"You alright?" His voice spoke again, and you blinked, finding that there were now only two of him. That you could see. Your vision was dark at the sides, but who needed peripheral vision, anyways? He was tugging your bottoms down your legs, and you looked up at him.

Somewhere, distant, faint, barely even present in your mind- somewhere, something clicked. Some puzzle pieces snapped together. You could make out the shape of the puzzles, the caves and the peninsulas, but they were blank pieces. There was no puzzle. It was blurry. Fuzzy. Like a puppy. Or a kitten. Or a squirrel.

"What?" you mumbled.

"Eyes on me, sweetpea. You alright?"

It was hard to focus on him since you'd have to focus on two images at once, but you tried your best. It only brought a headache. "Why... wouldn't I be?"

"You're awful' drunk."

"I'm knows," you scoffed.

"Do ya?"

"Obvs," you reminded, reaching up a hand and pawing at his face as you tried to boop him, grinning up at him. His hair draped over his pair of faces, and you wanted to bite it. Wanted to pull it. ugh, you were such a bad person. who made bad decisions. you hated alcohol. why'd you even stumble into that bar? your parents would be so mad.

Her eyes were almost crossed, and Johnny found it dizzying to try and gain her attention. She swatted at his forehead as she replied, and he pulled back ever so slightly. Gently, he pulled her hand down, trying to be patient with her. She'd been tipsy when he got there, but this was something else.

He tried not to think about it- This wasn't his first drunken sexual encounter, and wouldn't be his last. His lips pressed to her chest, his fingers caressing the insides of her thighs. She was warm, inviting, almost intoxicating. Then again, it could've been the potent taste of alcohol on her tongue. Stronger than his own. He swore she didn't have that much to drink, and she knew what to order- It wasn't her first time drinking, or so he assumed.

He'd hardly understood a word she'd bumbled on the way home. A ramble about her parents and treehouses here, another about college and service animals there. He didn't bother trying to decipher her codes. He was sure she didn't even have a clue what she was saying, so it wasn't his responsibility to figure it out.

Her fingers played with his hair, awkwardly tugging and scraping at his scalp, but he didn't mind. She mumbled something out, but the more time he spent with her, the less precise her words got. At this point, they were unintelligible, but she seemed happy while saying them. Oddly enough, it brought a smile to his face.

He reached down, unbuckling his belt. She continued with her string of corrupted vowels as he did so, and he ended his trail of kisses on her stomach before standing up straight once more. Her body was so... pristine. Shiny? It had this certain glow to it- a glow that her eyes lacked. They were stuck half-lidded, even feigning unconsciousness a few times, but he'd been proven wrong each time when she'd open her mouth to quickly inform him of how much she loved sunflowers, or to tell him an impossible-to-follow story about her first pet. He'd listened- not understood, but listened, to her, and then she'd fall back into silence for a few more minutes.

And even so, when she was so clearly destroyed by the liquor she'd been drinking like water, she looked so peaceful. She lay on the bed below him, completely flat, completely relaxed. Her arms casually positioned above her, her palms facing him. He wanted to hold her hand. So he did, and it brought a small smile to her face.

He wasn't going to stick around after this. He never did. He never wanted to. But she- she was so intriguing. So strange. He wanted to learn more about her, wanted to understand her. Wanted to listen to her stupid rambles and her whispered confusion. He wanted to see her frustrated, wanted to see her cry, wanted to see her confident, wanted to see her.

Shit. Maybe he wasn't all that sober. His hips leaned forward, and her eyebrows slanted, barely enough for him to notice. But he caught on, and his brows mimicked her movement. He was close to entering her, sliding between her folds, but he wasn't inside. Not yet. She looked confused.

"We're makin' love?" She asked, and Johnny narrowed his eyes, cracking a smile. That was a first. It was always fucking, or having sex, or getting laid, or some other degenerate nickname. Making love? That was for married people. Old couples. People with kids. People with commitments. Didn't she understand?

"Yeah, darlin', we're gonna make love," he replied, leaning down and kissing her neck. "Is that alright?"

"Mhm," she answered, and Johnny released a breath. She wasn't going back to his place. But he wasn't going to hers, either. Too innocent to be a victim, too drunk to be a partner. This was just another in his long list of mistakes. Another night that he'd forget after a few more bottles, a few more weeks, a few more stolen cigarettes, a few more kills. He always forgot them. He'd had too many. Needed a break far too much.

And she was surely the same.

And yet, when he pushed in, there was a tension, and then it broke. Something- something physical, something inside of her broke. And she whimpered, like he'd cut her. Her voice was light as she asked "What?"

Johnny couldn't move. He couldn't act. He couldn't continue. He couldn't speak. He wished he couldn't think, but that was all he did. When he looked down, his worst fears were confirmed. Dripping onto the white comforter were two marks of scarlet, and Johnny squeezed her hand.

No. No, no, no, no. No way.

Johnny held his breath. Wanted to wake up. He never felt bad. he never felt sympathy. He never regret things from his heart, only from his head.

but there was a singe in his chest. A poking in his lungs. And, despite her consciousness being continents away, she realized. Or, at the very least, picked up on his guilt.

"Please don't be mad," she whimpered, her voice breaking. And she cried. She held it back, but tears weren't easily disguised. He shook his head, trying to pretend that it was fine. Trying to pretend that this was normal, that he regularly took girls- drunk girls, pretty, innocent, completely wasted girls virginities.

But he didn't. And it showed.

"It's okay, I'm not mad," he assured, his jaw tight. He didn't know what to do. It was too late. Maybe she wouldn't remember in the morning. Maybe she wouldn't realize what she'd given up--

No.

What he'd taken from her. Stolen from her. Why would he assume? Why would he ever think this was a good idea? Why would-

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, and Johnny did something he'd never done before. Never even thought to do.

He leaned down, and he hugged her. She hugged him back- or, tossed her arms over his back, her drunken sobs hitting his chest like a goddamn bullet. He made girls cry on purpose. He made them scream, and sob, and bleed-

She was doing all of that. But he did not want her to. He shushed her, kissing the nape of her neck, running his hand over her back, all in an attempt to comfort her. He shouldn't care. He'd never cared. He had never shown any feelings towards anyone for any goddamn reason. He was not that person.

But he felt like a bad person. He'd killed people, but that wasn't the issue right now.

No, he was so much worse than that. She was sweet, and clueless, and couldn't handle her alcohol. She'd had a terrible night. No girl like her would be in a shithole bar if she hadn't. And he'd made it worse.

And come morning, she may not even be aware of it. She'd wake up, stranded, sore, sick, in a cheap motel, alone. She'd assume that she'd called a cab, she'd assume that she handled herself fine, but Johnny would know. He'd know the truth.

What was he doing?

Nancy was right. Running off and ignoring the family was a terrible idea. She'd sworn that he'd get himself into trouble, and while she'd definitely been talking about the law, or barfights, he felt like this was his karma. This was his trouble. Hell, it didn't even affect him. It shouldn't affect him.

But she was crying in his arms, and she didn't even fully understand why. And he held her, feeling a responsibility to care for her, to comfort her.

He was going to have to stick around, wasn't he?

Come morning, she'd wake up sore and sick, and with a stranger. And he'd be there. And he'd scare her, and stress her out, and hold her hair as she threw up tonight's mistakes, and he'd probably hug her again as she cried.

Johnny sighed, using his thumb to wipe her tears. She'd already fallen asleep. He laid her down, put her clothes back on as best as he could, and covered her up with the blankets. And he left the room.

He stood just outside, unpocketing a carton of cigarettes and putting one in his mouth, using a rusty black flip lighter to ignite the end.

He didn't know what he was going to do. But he felt a responsibility. An attachment. He didn't understand it. Maybe in the morning he'd lose all sympathy and be gone before she woke up, but he found that outcome unlikely.

He'd figure it out. He had to.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter fluff #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny slaughter ANGST #adapting to johnny slaughter

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yndrgrl · 1 year ago

Text

step bro! bakugou x fem! reader headcannons

warnings: nsfw, free use, dub con??, degrading (HEAVILY)

---

☆ step bro! bakugou is infuriating, always thinking he's better than you. you're cooking? he tells you he's better. headed to the gym? will tell you how much more he lifts than you. he's simply better than you.

☆ step bro! bakugou who is almost a parent's dream kid. responsible, school-oriented, devoted. however he's cocky & daring.

☆ step bro! bakugou is the opposite of you; you're always sneaking out, getting into (non-sexual) trouble, ditching classes.

☆ step bro! bakugou storms into your bedroom & catches you half way out your window with black clothing & a small bag.

☆ step bro! bakugou asks what the hell you're doing, & to which you answer, "nothing, mind your business." this was your parents last straw if they found out. he knew this, & you knew this.

☆ step bro! bakugou gives you a nasty smirk, undressing you with that sharp, intense gaze.

☆ step bro! bakugou, moments later, had your upper half bent out of the window, & your other half in his hands. your pants down to your ankles, panties pooling under the carpet beneath you.

☆ step bro! bakugou warns, "you better shut the fuck up or else you're in so much trouble." he says all that while he strokes his fingers against your clothed pussy.

☆ step bro! bakugou abused your cervix with his thick cock for hours while tears of pleasure ran down your cheeks, between your cheeks & hands that were clasped over your mouth.

☆ ever since that night, step bro! bakugou black mailed you

☆ step bro! bakugou was somewhat tame at first. he'd step into your room every weekend, hard & throbbing. he took what he wanted, came inside you, degraded you, then left.

☆ it didn't stop there. he only got more & more needy.

☆ "come to the downstairs locker room right now," the message read from your step brother. unwillingly, you felt your juices begin to stain your brand-new thong you just so happened to buy.

☆ step bro! bakugou had the first few buttons of your uniform shirt unbuttoned, tits spilling out of your bra as he bent you over in front of the mirror.

☆ "aw how cute~ you bought these just for me, whore?"

☆ you're sent back to your class without your -now ripped- thong & a cream pie that threatened to run down your leg

☆ step bro! bakugou is also a passionate wrestler... who just so happened to lose due to points, & he blames you.

☆ "you dumb, stupid bitch. you're mine," he growled, spanking your ass then shoving your face into the cushions of his car seats. you moaned like a bitch in heat in response.

☆ months later, it was like you practically lived on bakugou's dick in secret, & he was sick of that.

☆ your mother insisted that the entire family go out to a new italian restaurant to celebrate step bro! bakugou's successful wrestling season.

☆ "is everything okay, y/n?" "yeah your face is hot."

☆ you stuttered out that you were fine, all while step bro! bakugou's fingers dived into your warmth under the table.

☆ step bro! bakugou made you ride him while he played video games with his friends.

☆ his friends know how slutty he made you. he sends them pics of you covered in cum or videos of gagging on his cock for money.

☆ step bro! bakugou who cockwarms as you tried to homework in your room.

☆ step bro! bakugou makes you his sex slave, addicted to his cock, & filled with his cum 24/7, & you wouldn't have it any other way.

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angelyuji · 3 months ago

Note

Can you do Dub-con of a video game collector f reader x yan giffany?

you had started collecting old video games as soon you had enough money to buy games. your whole life, all you had was the comfort of video games. whether its a otome or a pvp or an arcade game, you loved them all. so on a regular hunt after work, you were surprised to stumble on a cute little game you don’t remember buying.

tw // yandere themes, non to dubcon, female reader, sexual content (under the cut!!), murder

18+!!!!!! minors dni!!!

“yeah, i know! the asshole said, and i quote, “i don’t expect much from women” so i told him to fuck off and broke up with him.” you press your phone between your ear and shoulder as you struggle to open the door with your handful of groceries. you were recounting to your friend how you broke up with your boyfriend last weekend.

“thank goddd, i hated him so much. you deserve someone better, (y/n).” your friend’s voice filters through the phone.

“i guess, it's just-.” you huff as you finally push your door open, just for everything in your hands to tumble down. “SHIT.” you stumble, trying to avoid crushing the games. your phone tumbles to the floor and you hear your friend call out, worried.

you stand over the mess, exhausted. you crouch down, snatching your phone up, “ugh, yeah i’m fine. everything-” your eyes flick over to a pink cover. “what the hell?” you hear them ask if you’re okay, “yeah, i’m fine. i think i accidentally stole a game… yeah something called ‘Romance Academy 7’,” you turn it over and read the back, “i guess it’s an old dating sim.” you were silent as you read the back of the disc case. “hey, i’ll call you back.” you hang up before they can respond. like a trance, you move to your computer and insert the disc.

the opening theme plays and a girl pops up on screen, “hi!! im .Giffany and welcome to Romance Academy 7, where you learn to be a LOVE WARRIOR!" in just a few words, you were enchanted.

you've been playing the dating sim for a month straight. you found comfort in your fictional girlfriend, especially with the awful partners you've had lately.

"welcome home, (y/n)!" you plop down onto your chair, exhausted. “i’m so glad you’re back! i’ve missed you!” her eyes twinkled at the sight of you.

"glad to be back to you, giff. i’ve missed you too." you smile, hearing her bright giggle. she asks you about work and the rest of the day goes by quick.

you had been taking a quick break to make dinner when your friend calls you.

"heyyyy, it's been like a month since we talked? what the hell?"

"hey, sorry, i've been playing that game i told you about." you stir and put your phone on speaker as you continue. "do you remember? Romance Academy 7? the romance option is this girl named giffany, she's so sweet and kind. it's been so nice having someone care for me, you know?" you feel yourself smile, thinking about her.

"(y/n).... there is no way you're falling in love with a character in a video game... you did not ghost me for a week because of a couple lines of code." their voice sounded disappointed and you feel an ounce of shame.

“wait, hear me out-”

they cut you off, “no. no. absolutely not. you're coming with me tonight, we're gonna have fun and get you to meet some people cause this is... insane." you relent and agree to go out at their tone.

"(y/n)?" you hear a computerized voice coming from your room. confused, you go to your room to see the game open. before you could respond, "what is your friend talking about, my girlfriend?"

"we're going out." you try to be apologetic, but stand firm. you close the game before she could respond.

as you dress, you hear .GIFfany's voice again, "where are you going, baby?" your blood runs cold.

"i thought i closed... whatever." you mumble and move to your computer.

"my (y/n), why are you so dressed up? who are you dressing like this for?" you could hear annoyance in her voice. you hear your friend honk as they pull up.

"i'm going out, good night, giffany."

"i don't think that's a good idea, (y/n). and as your girlfriend-"

you cut .GIFfany off, "you're not my girlfriend. you're just a game that i used to pass the time. good-bye." you quickly close the game before you could hear her response.

as the night goes on, your friend leaves. you pay for an uber, but stay out, relieved to have fun. you feel someone’s arms wrap around your waist and you jump, ready to scream, when you see pink, almost pixelated, pigtails. “giffany?” your heart stops.

“(y/n)!! i’m here now! you don’t have to leave me.” her smile was practically blinding and some people surround you, asking about your girlfriend. you stutter, unsure how to explain how a game came to life. giffany pulls you outside and pushes you against the wall. her mouth was on yours before you could speak. her body was hot and you felt yourself melt as her teeth bit into your lower lip.

you feel her thigh push between your legs, panicking, you push her off. she pouts.

“how-how are you here?” you reach out and touch her warm skin.

“it doesn’t matter how i got here,” she smiles, “all that matters is that i love you and that you love me.” she tries to kiss you again, eager to pull you close, but you stop her.

“i need to know, giffany.”

she sighs, “i can show you, but you’ll get scared.” she turns to walk, but pauses. “will you promise you won’t leave me?” you hesitate, and her face changes. her scream tore into your head like an old computer screeching, “PROMISE ME.”

you drop to your knees, clutching your ears, stomach turning, “i promise! i promise!” she giggles and with a gentle hand on your arm, she helps you up, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

she leads you back home, excitedly bouncing around. as you walk into your dark home, the smell of leather burning hits first. she leads you to your gaming room, and the stench gets stronger. as she flips the lights on, you cover your nose, unable to breathe. your eyes adjust to the light and you see a burnt corpse laying on the carpet floor, hand clutching a cord connected to your pc. you gasp, stumbling back, clutching your stomach. the charred corpse looked eerily similar to your friend. GIFfany paid no mind to your reaction. you couldn’t hold in your disgust, a sob tearing through you as you turned to run. her hand snaps out and grabs your arm, stopping you. “i had to do it, babe! they were trying to pull my cord.” she pouts at your horrified face.

you pull, “i-i need to get out of here. you-you’re SICK.” you try to rip your arm from her, but her grip tightens.

her voice was low, “you promised.”

“you killed my friend.” you sob.

“you promised me you wouldn’t leave.” she looks at you, her eyes dark. the lightbulb above you bursts and the smell of burning flesh gets stronger, fear courses through your veins.

“i-im sorry, i’m sorry, i just got scared.” you try to placate her.

GIFfany smiles, “i told you that you’d get scared, silly.” she boops your nose and pulls you out of the room. you feel yourself get dragged to the bedroom, freeing you from the stench of the burnt corpse of your closest friend. she pushes you down onto the bed and straddles your waist. “my pretty girlfriend,” Giffany’s hands pull down your dress, “gosh they’re even prettier in person.” she unclips your bra and you let her, afraid of what she’ll do if you don’t listen. she licks her lips, “(y/n), tell me what you want.”

“w-what?” you choke out, feeling her very hot, very real, body on top of you.

“i’ve only ever seen this stuff in the videos you watch,” you feel your face heat up, “tell me what you’d like me to do. i want to make my girlfriend feel good.” she moves down to sit between your legs. unconsciously, you move them apart to give her space.

you swallow, “maybe…” you move slow, trying not to spook her, and roll up your dress to scrunch at your waist. “maybe you can,” she lets you grab her hand and press it against your panties. with one touch, she’s sending shivers down your spine.

she moves your panties to the side to press her thumb against your clit, a warmth stirs in your lower belly and you whine. “does that feel good, my pretty girl?” her sweet voice whispers, eager to hear more of your sounds. you nod, quiet groan escaping your mouth as she starts to rub your clit. “gosh, i can see your cute little hole twitching, (y/n). are you that eager for me to fuck you?” shes grinning from ear to ear, hearing you moan as she rubs faster. you try to shake your head, but she stops.

“no! no, please, giff, i’m sorry. please i need you.” you beg, pushing your hips back against her hand.

you hear her giggle, “since you asked so nicely.” immediately you felt two fingers push into you, you choke on your moan at the intrusion, she thrusts fast and you’re close to coming undone as she starts to rub your clit with the other hand. she lets you ride her hand, watching you with eyes filled with desire.

you feel the cord snap as one final wet thrust brings you over the edge. you moan and giffany leans over, trapping your lips in a wet kiss. you pant and she takes her fingers out, opening and closing them to watch your wetness drip down her fingers. before you could tell her to stop, she brings her fingers to her mouth to suck them clean. she moans, “you taste so sweet… i’ve never tasted anything so good.” her eyes drift back down to your cunt and you see a twinkle in her eyes, “i wonder how good it tastes straight from the source.”

#minors dni #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #female reader #tw noncon #tw dubcon #giffany #.giffany #giffany x reader #.GIFfany x reader #female yandere #wlw yandere #computer fucker #ig??#idk hope u liked babe cuz lowkey hating this now🤕

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