#sobs me and size differences are just god fucking awful

[sylustful]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ A Slice of Heaven for the Sinner.

"there is no love purer than mine."

he is heartless, unforgiving, and cold. he takes and takes and takes because it's his given right. you are no exception. when the two of you meet in a nightclub, he watches you with intense interest, his eyes devouring your soul without even touching your skin... but when he does, there's no going back for you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TAGS: vampire! Sylus, pure but bold reader, corruption, dubcon (reader secretly gets off on being scared and forced), size difference, manhandling, pet names (ie. sweetie, babydoll, princess, slut, whore, kitten, etc.), overstimulation, biting, blood drinking, spanking, praise, degradation, bondage (he binds your hands with his belt), belly bulge, creampie, marking.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ MIKI’S NOTES: Whew! this took forever to write lmao. i know the tags seem intimidating but i promise, you’ll enjoy it! i’ve been reading so many smut x reader fics with this man that i’ve just been dying to write my own, so i hope you enjoy it! if you want more, dm me your requests or follow me for updates on new Sylus fics! enjoy!

here is part one.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ WORD COUNT: 3746

you are fucked. almost quite literally, at this point. with Sylus’s fingers digging into your pussy through your panties to the point where it almost hurts, a voice in the back of your head tells you to yell stop or to slow down or something, but that thought quickly gets overturned with his other hand reaching under your blouse to squeeze your breasts over your bra.

“you say you need me, yet i don’t hear specifics, Kitten,” he teases in an almost sadistic tone, or maybe it’s just what you want to think. the stupid, masochistic part of you wants him to be mean.

you grate against your teeth and throw your head back, trying to clear your mind before looking back at him. “you know what i want from you, Sylus,” you say through gritted teeth.

“you want what every woman wants from a man,” he replies, tearing your panties and stuffing it into his pocket. “i’m just asking you for your full consent.”

fuck him. he doesn’t even know he tore one of the only panties you had, now you have to wait until your next shitty paycheck to buy more. you sigh, lying your head back onto the floor of the trunk and trying to ignore the teasing trails of his fingers around your slit. you try and sit up, but Sylus keeps your back to the floor with his hand on your shoulder, glaring at you.

“you know what? i’ve had enough.”

Sylus then flips you over with ease, yanking a yelp out of you as he rests your stomach on his thighs. you turn back to him with an infuriated expression, trying to wiggle out of his hold before he leaves a god awful hand print on your ass. you yelp again, clenching your fists in pain. you know what he’s going to do, and it fills you with dread. Sylus then massages the cheek, making sure to dig his fingers into the hot and stinging skin before tapping it a few times playfully. he then uses his other hand to grip the back of your now messed up ponytail, pulling you back up to him and straining your spine.

“i’ll give you my fingers because i know goddamn well you want it, but you don’t get to say anything until i’ve had my fill,” he says into your ear with a harsh tone before throwing you back face-first onto the floor of the trunk.

and so, he does what he says. although, there’s a somewhat gentleness in his ministrations, inching one singular finger into your soaked cunt, making sure to watch your expressions for any sign of discomfort. he knows not to actually be rough like his victims, but he also knows you like toeing the line between pain and pleasure. how does Sylus know? well your cute little ass is pushing against his hand, your body begging for him to put more into you. no matter how much you deny him, Sylus knows you. eventually, slowly, he puts more in, now stuffing three fingers into your used and abused pussy like the whore you are, all the while your tear-stained cheeks sob and sob about how you can’t take anymore. your juices soak the floor of his car and down the back of it, dripping onto the concrete below and leaving a puddle. your body shakes and twitches violently as you struggle between crawling away and pushing his fingers deep into you.

“see, that wasn’t so hard, right?” he cooed, turning you back over so your back lies against the floor. he reaches out, wiping a tear from your lid and licking it with his tongue, groaning at the saltiness of your tears. “your debauchery is stunning, Sweetie.”

you weakly reach out to grip his wrist, shaking your head. you don’t know how many times you’ve cum at this point, and it’s actually starting to hurt. “i can’t… please, it- ah!- it hurts,” you cry, bucking your hips into his hand.

Sylus shushes you, pulling you into his lap and holding you still by your waist, this new angle providing him with deeper access into the walls of your pussy, the tips of his fingers pressing against the frontal wall. you clench your thighs around his wrist, shaking your head again and gripping his shirt. “just one more, i promise,” he whispers, kissing your tears away and rubbing your sides under your blouse. “make that gorgeous pussy of your cum for me one more time and i’ll stop.”

his voice is like an echo in your mind, his words muffled in your ears with how muddled your brain is. he said how many more? more? he wants more from you? you whimper, feeing the tips of his fingers brush and push against your front and scissors, stretching you out. eventually, you understand his words and muster a weak nod with the little strength you had and his smiles, kissing your forehead and praising you. he whispers into your ear with gentle promises, telling you how beautiful you are, how strong you are, how your pussy was the best thing he’s ever seen and felt. your body alone was his temple and he was your devout worshiper.

he moves his other hand down your thigh and uses his pointer finger to rub circles on your clit. first clockwise, then counterclockwise, alternating between the two and causing it to swell beneath, a silent encouragement to move faster with more fingers. you buck again, hiccuping as you cry into Sylus’s shoulder. he’s gentle with you, you know that, but this softness is agonizingly slow. he told you he wanted you to cum again but how can you do that when his ministrations are making your head spin with his sudden changes in speed? fast. slow. fast. slow. it’s all the same! you decide that it’s enough for you and you straddle him on shaky knees, causing Sylus to pause his movements and move his fingers away from your clit, gripping your hip. you want to yell at him for losing that stimulation, but you hold your tongue.

“just fuck me already,” you hiss, looking directly into his ruby eyes and pushing your hips down, biting your lip at his fingers pushing deeper inside of you.

Sylus merely chuckles at your demand, his thumb rubbing up and down your stomach. “such crude words, Kitten. who knew you could speak like that?”

you groan in frustration at his teasing, resting your forehead against his. “i know you’re hard, Sylus, so just fuck me and get this over with.”

he frowns at your words, smacking your ass again and you yelp, leaning into his shoulder. “as much as i think your demanding attitude is cute and all, i like to take my time with prey that i catch,” he explains to you, ripping his fingers out of your cunt and smacking it.

you jump, whimpering at the harsh slaps and you wrap your arms around his neck, blubbering out apologies against his skin. Sylus sighs, stroking your back and shushing you once more. it’s fine; it’s not like this will be the last time he ever fucks you again, so he doesn’t have to take that much time. he then pulls you back so you’re facing him again, moving his soaked fingers up to your mouth.

“suck.”

it’s a simple order, yet your mind reels at his authoritative tone and your eyes can’t help but stare at his pruned skin. you drenched him, drowned him in your slick and a sense of pride riled up in you. you keep your eyes on him as you stick your tongue out, swirling it around the digits before fully enveloping your mouth. you’ve never tasted yourself before but it’s kind of metallic, with a hint of sweetness. he grins at your expression, watching you hollow your cheeks to take his fingers deeper. if you can deepthroat his fingers, you can surely take his cock, and Sylus can feel himself straining against the confines of his jeans at the thought.

“surely a dirty slut like you can take it deeper down your throat, right?” he asks, your tummy fluttering at his degradation.

you want to please Sylus. though, when you hear his words, you can’t help but feel there’s a double entendre. you nod your head anyway, giving Sylus permission to shove his fingers past your uvula and down your throat, almost choking. tears prick your eyes again but you keep still, gripping his shirt tightly. it doesn’t last long, and when he takes his fingers back out, you cough hard to the side, trying to regain your breath.

“such a good girl for me, babydoll,” he praises, pulling you back to face him by gripping your jaw and kissing you deeply.

your head spins and your heart beats faster. the mix between degradation and praise has your mind reeling and your pussy clenching around nothing, begging to be filled once more. not by his hands but by something bigger, harder, and hotter. you gasp and pull away from his brutal kisses and push your hand into his pants, eliciting a groan from him and he quickly grips his hand around your wrist. you look down and your pussy clenches again at the difference in size of your hands, how easily your wrist fits in his hold and how probably, he could hold both of your wrists with one hand.

“easy with the paws, Kitten,” he says through a shaky breath, his cheeks flushed as he chuckles. “i’ll give you what you want.”

you frown, pawing at him again, your fingers fiddling with the belt and loosening it. “careful with your words, little bird,” you reply, giving him his own nickname and pulling the belt out of the loops with your free hand. “this kitty’s got claws and she isn’t afraid to bite.”

Sylus stares at you for a few moments, making you immediately regret your words and try to pull away out of embarrassment, but he just laughs. he quickly lets go of your wrist and binds your hands together with his belt, restraining you, before setting you on your feet and turning you over. you squeak at his actions and he moves your hands to grip the railing, effectively bending you over. the wind blows under your skirt, the coldness making you shiver and your pussy clench again. behind you, you can hear Sylus unzip his pants and shrug them down just enough to pull his cock out. curiosity buzzes in your skin and you turn your head just enough to peak over his shoulder and-

what the fuck.

you quickly turn back, your mind racing with thoughts. how can a guy even be that fucking big? is it even normal for guys to grow to that size? how the hell does he walk around with that thing in his pants? no wonder Sylus was fingering you so much - even with your own natural lubrication, there’s no way you can take him into you! you’re afraid you’ll not even get him halfway in before he realizes his mistake in choosing you to fuck him. it’s not even your fault-

you scream at his hand smacking you across the ass, sharper this time, the sound cracking throughout the empty parking lot and forest like lightning. “i would appreciate it if you aren’t in your fucking head when i fuck you, Darling,” he says with gritted teeth, holding your hip in a bruising grip.

you quickly nod your head, forcing yourself not to overthink this and just go with the flow. you know it’ll hurt if you freak out and not relax enough for him to sink into you. Sylus taps his dick on the flesh of your ass, making you jump at both the heaviness and your skin stinging. he chuckles behind you, rubbing the head up and down your slit, teasing you like the asshole he is. you want to tell him to just shove it in already, a part of you impatient and needy for his cock, while another was thankful for Sylus taking his time with you. but all this waiting finally pays off when his fat head pushes between your folds and into your soaked hole, making you bite your lip.

fuck, he’s big. he’s so fucking big.

you hiss, digging your nails into the railing as he slowly pushes into you, stretching you out like never before. you’ve fucked big dildos before, all of your previous boyfriends never reaching the places you knew made your head spin. but with Sylus? he found places within your cunt that you’ve never felt before, causing you to moan unabashedly and step on your tiptoes, fighting yourself on whether or not this invasion in your body was worth the pleasure. Sylus however, keeps you grounded with his hand on your hip, pushing your feet flat on the ground again.

he makes sure to be slow, even if every cell in his body is screaming at him to just plow into your cunt and not care if it hurts or not. he will one day, but not tonight. he wanted to savor you, to savor the warmth and wetness and tightness of your walls wrapping around him like a blanket. your body was made for him, he thinks - no - he knows you were made for him. it’s the only explanation as to how you were able to take him so easily, fitting his cock like a glove. he eventually sinks in enough to the hilt and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his hips flush against your ass. Sylus’s hands grip your hips like a lifeline and he takes deep breaths in, his heart beating wildly with excitement vibrating throughout his veins. he wants to fuck you. to breed you. to fill you up and fuck the cum into you. he wants to keep you plugged up in his dick all the time.

“fucking hell, Kitten,” he all but groans behind you, moving his hands up and down your back. “you feel like heaven.”

the dichotomy in his words makes you snort but even laughing feels too much with how full you feel. it’s like you can feel his cock in your stomach, bullying his way past your intestines to fill you as much as possible. and when he pulls out and pushes back in, your breath gets caught in your throat, and you grip the railing with all your might. your juices coat his cock and drip down your thighs, making a puddle between your legs and you whimper. you weakly push back against him, trying to meet his thrusts but he holds you still, tutting his tongue.

“no, no, no, Princess, stay still for me,” he cooed, rubbing circles into your hip and setting a steady but slow pace in his thrusts. “don’t get greedy now.”

he says that but in reality, he feels as though if you meet his thrusts with yours, he’ll bust into you immediately - something that has never happened before considering how much restraint he has normally in sex. but it’s you here. it’s your angelic body that questions everything Sylus has ever thought about sex. he never thought he could be gentle; he never thought that actually taking the time to become one with someone could feel so intimate and special. your expressions, your sounds, your eyes; it makes him rethink ever wanting to fuck anyone again. a small part of him, a part he never knew of, wanted to make love to you next time. to sink you into his bed and connect with you, both body and soul. he shakes his head, cursing under his breath as you hold still like he asked. you were so good for him, so pretty and obedient. he grunts, slamming his hips against your ass and laughing breathlessly at your squeak in surprise. he looks down, watching your cunt swallow him whole and squeeze him when he pulls out. it’s like your body was begging him not to leave, to keep you full and happy. Sylus moves his hands down, using his thumb to spread your folds as he grabs your ass.

“your body is like nirvana, sweetheart, you know that?” he says gruffly, watching his cock go in and out of your soaked cunt with ease, your body now used to his size. “a fucking gift from the gods themselves.”

you moan again, your stomach fluttering at his praise and clenching around him. you look down in embarrassment, biting your lip to try and hide further noises, failing miserably.

he hisses at the tightness and leans down next to your ear. “i can feel you tightening up at my praise, doll, don’t hide from me,” he teases you, bullying his cock impossibly deeper into you and speeding up his thrusts slightly.

he fucks you like no other. bringing you to heights of pleasure you didn’t even know existed and molding your body to fit his. you’re afraid that he’s ruining you, corrupting your chances of ever finding a man who can make you soar the skies like this - you’re afraid that because of him, you won’t ever want to fuck anyone else again. how did this even happen? how in the world can one night with this man destroy any possibility of you being with any other man? you don’t know and probably won’t ever want to if it means he can fuck you like this for the rest of your life.

his hand moves from your hip to your stomach, feeling the indent of his cock inside of you and groans, resting his forehead to your shoulder. “do you feel me? do you feel my dick in your stomach like this?” he asks, pushing his fingers in the indent and causing you to gasp, nodding your head and moaning wantonly.

“i want to bite you,” he huffs, kissing across the upper part of your back and shoulders and back of your neck, sliding his tongue across your skin. “tell me i can, Princess. tell me i can mark this body of yours.”

you couldn’t even refuse him even if you wanted to and both of you knew that. Sylus then bares his fangs, sinking them into your shoulder and you hiss, surprised at his sharp his teeth were and you clench around him, the man groaning. he knew you liked pain, but god, it’s like you were fated to be bound to him. your blood tastes like the finest wine of all time, the ultimate sin a man can make and Sylus wanted to drink you dry. your blood spills from his bite and down your arm, but he catches it in time with his finger, not wanting to waste a drop. he laps at the wound, kissing over it and moving to the other side, sinking his fangs back into your neck. even if it hurt, it was like some kind of magic that flowed from his fangs into your bloodstream, dizzying you and melting you into him. fireworks light up in your cells and your skin tingles with frenzied tremors. he marks up your skin with bite marks and hickeys, puncture wounds in your shoulder and neck and upper arm, he drank from you like a starved man because he was. the hunger that Sylus felt all this time was hunger for you, for your blood, for your body that made him feel alive and whole again.

“give me this fucking cunt,” he growled into your ear, his thrusts now harsh and unforgiving, bruising your hip with one hand as he smacked your ass once more, gripping the other hip to steady himself. “i fucking earned this and you know i have, you know i deserve to do whatever i want with this damn body.”

“i know,” you wheezed, your breath stuck in your throat and you nod, tears pricking your eyes. “all yours. fuck, fuck, fuck!”

hearing you curse without restraint has Sylus grinning with pride, and he rewards you with his right hand hooking around you, using two of his fingers to circle your clit, relishing in your buck against him and loud moan. he feels you tightening, that all to familiar coil in your abdomen threatening to spring and explode everywhere. he keeps his thrusts steady and at the same tempo, encouraging you to cum around his cock, to give him your orgasm.

“you can do it, i gotcha, cum for me,” he says, kissing your cheek and wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling your back flush against his chest. “this orgasm is mine. i made you this dripping fucking wet on purpose. i want it. i earned it.”

this causes the coil inside you to snap and you all but screamed, gushing like a waterfall and squirting around his cock, causing Sylus to grit his teeth, groaning into your neck. “that’s it. atta-fucking-girl. fucking cream all over this dick.”

his orgasm is not that far behind, and Sylus forces you still and just take it. even with you begging him to slow down and that you were to sensitive, he just covers your mouth to silence you and chases after his own high, finally slamming you onto him as he cums inside you. his cum is thick and heavy and hot. you can feel him filling your womb and all up inside you, spilling down your thighs and mixing with your own arousal. your eyes roll back and you shiver against him, ragged and uneven breaths clawing out of your lungs and through your nose, spots of light blurring vision.

he then sits down in the car, moving his hand down from your mouth to wrap both arms around your waist. you splutter and cough up a storm, your body struggling between not having enough oxygen and having too much. but he keeps you still, allowing you to gracefully fall down from your high, steadying his own uneven breaths. the silence between the two of you is comforting, a silent contentment of what just happened and acceptance.

what happened tonight is something you’ll remember forever. your body now forever tainted and manipulated into only being satisfied with this dangerous and powerful man called “Sylus”. a sinner who dragged you out of the pearly gates to fall into the depths of hell.

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sweetlikehny-archived]

Listen, I don't normally make request or ask stuff; I usually just somehow find it but this is something I haven't found nor have the skill to write soo....

I see you have nothing on Diavolo and will do monsterfucking..... How would you feel if I suggested, monsterfucking & Diavolo?

You don't have to if you don't want, tbh. I just like your writing style; so I wanted to ask you.

~🥑

Kink prompt ask game!

Aw thank you! <33 I’m still fairly new to writing NSFW so I appreciate it 🥹 and YES YOU READ MY MIND WITH THIS SCENARIO‼️‼️

CW: NSFW (minors dni), AFAB reader, (mentions of pussy and clit- but no pronouns mentioned), language, monsterfucking, slight size kink if you squint

You should have been intimidated at his size, but Diavolo has always a gentle lover, and you never felt that he would hurt you. Even at all of the times you two would have sex, he always made sure to be careful, asking if you were okay and making sure you were never uncomfortable.

But it was just something so different whenever he’s in his demon form.

Maybe it’s because you’ve only seen it a handful of times- but each time you did, you felt yourself growing hot and your pussy throbbing. He just oozed so much power in that form, so much dominance, that it had you rubbing your thighs together.

So when you asked him to have sex in his demon form, he was a little hesitant to go through with it- he already towers over you now and has to restrain himself from using all of his strength, what if he accidentally hurts you?

But you reassure your trust in him, telling him that you know he would never hurt you.

Maybe that was the little push he needed.

Because you soon found yourself moaning as Diavolo thrusted his thick cock inside you.

Your mind was hazy as he folded you in half, going even deeper as you continued to cry out. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought when you felt his clawed fingers rub at your clit.

“P-please Di-ah! Please-“ you babbled on, mind going blank as Diavolo bent down to kiss you, swallowing your moans. God, he felt so big inside you, your breath catching with every thrust. You wondered if his girth was thicker in this form. You were seeing stars especially if he kept hitting that one spot-

Diavolo broke apart from your lips, chuckling at your dazed expression. He’s seen your face twisted in pleasure many times before, but seeing you with drool trailing down your chin and your eyes clouded with pure bliss, it only made him want to take you more. To claim you, mark you as his, corrupt you-

“Look at how well you’re taking me.” He pressed his hand down on your stomach, and you practically sobbed when you saw the bulge. Diavolo hissed when he felt your warm walls clench around him, but it didn’t stop his hips from slamming into you. “You’re doing so well MC.” And with how tight you’re squeezing him, you must be getting close.

“Ple-please Diavolo!”

“Please what?” His hips snapped against yours, “Tell me what you want.” He started slowing down his movements, and you whined in protest, wiggling your hips.

“I wanna cum Dia! Please letmecum-“

You were gripping the bedsheets when your trembling hands grabbed at his curled horns to pull him closer- and he snarled, thrusting harder as his wings flared behind him.

It was as if a switch flipped inside him, because he lifted you up and you took his entire length in a single drop, a cry tearing from your throat as you finally came.

But even through your toe-curling orgasm, Diavolo didn’t stop thrusting, fucking you to chase his own pleasure. Your walls wouldn’t stop clenching around him, and he growled out curses as your eyes rolled up, body trembling from overstimulation. Your eyes teared up and you felt your mixed fluids coating your thighs- but there was no sign of him slowing down.

Then you felt him grow inside you- his girth becoming even thicker than before, and you found yourself face down on the bed as he never lost his momentum.

Your mind was completely broken, mouth open in a silent scream as you felt another orgasm approaching, the warm coil inside growing hotter and hotter, threatening to snap at any second. You felt all of him so clearly, the delicate ridges that decorated his cock giving you indescribable amounts of pleasure.

And he must have been close as well, because he went faster, leaving you breathless. Your words slurred together, but Diavolo didn’t miss a moment in torturing teasing you. “I can’t understand what you’re asking me MC- you need to ask me-“, another hard thrust shook you to your core. “-properly.”

“I-I want-“

“To what?” He practically snarled in your ear, hips snapping harder and cock reaching even deeper.

“I want to cum Diavolo!”

“Then cum with me MC.”

With his words, a wail escaped you as his hips finally stuttered and a growl left his lips. You felt something hot shoot inside you, his cum filling you quickly and to the brim. You body jolted with aftershocks as he slowly moved his hips with each spurt, biting down on your shoulder and softly kissing it afterwards.

When Diavolo did pull his cock out, the ridges had you shuddering against him, whining when you felt his cum spilling out all at once. It wouldn’t stop pouring out of you, and you hissed when you felt Diavolo push his thick fingers inside of your pussy.

“Ah, we can’t have you making a mess.” And you moaned when you started to gently finger you, taking them out and pushing them against your open lips. You licked them clean as you gazed into his narrowed, golden eyes. You felt yourself growing wet all over again, ready to take his thick cock inside of you once more.

“Apologies in advance, my love. I’m not able to control myself anymore.”

You definitely won’t be walk straight tomorrow- or the next few days from the way his curved cock twitched against his navel.

[jaws-and-canines]

Steel Thread

A AU: Ten Years Under A Different Hand story. This is a little way before what I’ve written in this AU before (which you can find here and here), and focuses on Mere and Haskell’s first meeting. Contains strong themes of mouth gore (mouth stitched shut trope) as well as general canon-typical violence. --- As expected, guilty. They find me guilty as charged, right to the letter of the law. That I knew was coming. The rest? Not really. I haven’t really had time to think, to process it all. Judge, courtroom, emptied of media and the public, jury dismissed, which should have told me what was coming. That god-awful sentence- indefinite Special Circumstances Detention. And I’m crying out to the judge who isn’t listening- please, no. Please. The last thing I manage to scream out to her as they usher me out to the fate worse than death will haunt me for the rest of my life, and I know it will- please, I’d rather hang. But nothing changes. Sterile holding cells, and I can barely stop my weeping to be able to catch my breath.

Then the Specials. I scream and fight but it’s no use. It takes only two of them to pick me up, one under each arm, and then I’m given the hushed-voice choice to walk or to be carried to the car. Walk, I sob. I’ll walk. 

And I do. Of my own volition I sit down in the back of the blacked-out car, shift to get comfortable with my hands cuffed behind my back. I let them hood me, keeping my heavy head down like it weighs with the gravity of my situation. I suppose it may as well. I just let them. Perhaps I should have fought harder.

Then here. Passed from one Special to another. When the hood comes off I’m inside a high victoriana house. This man is almost twice my size, built like a brick wall, short black hair and a bronze tan to his skin, the sort you get from working outside. He holds me by the back of the neck and and by the hip, against his body, total control over me. And then down the steps. Into a basement, dark brick, wooden stairs, and a locked door between me and the light of day.

There’s sawdust on the floor, I realise. Sawdust. I inhale sharply, the fear I’ve been holding back breaking out of me. There’s a rickety chair, and then on two tables in the corner of the basement- tray after tray after tray of horrendous looking things- or mundane things that I know aren’t here to be used for their intended purposes. No. These are instruments of pain. And they’re here for me.

They’re going to fucking kill me, I think for a moment, and wince. The Special stands me up straight and I look at him, the wince still halfway on my face. Whatever tears I cried in the back of the car have dried on my cheeks now, the pallor of fear-fuelled adrenaline drying my tears and turning me pale with terror.

“Sit,” he says. 

I sit on the rickety-looking chair. He takes a zip tie from the tray and uses it to attach my handcuffs to the chair behind my back, before standing up, almost in an at-ease position in front of me, hands in his pockets. “I don’t have a name, but you will call me Mere. General Mere, third class, in fact.” He fucking towers over me.“You’re here because someone has to make an example of you and that person is me.”

“I thought I was here because I fucking killed a man,” I croak. My mouth is bone-dry. 

“Oh, you are.” He chews the inside of his cheek. He’s so nonchalant about it. “You’ve had freedom and power and look what you did with it. No more. You have to be taught how to act. You need someone to tell you what to do. You need someone who is going to set you straight and won’t spare you the damn rod just like the child you are.”

Yeah, you’ve made that clear, I think. If he’s just going to hurt me this isn’t going to be too bad. Some amount of pain, surely, one’s brain has to give in. There’s an upper limit to what I can take, somewhere, there must be, and I have a feeling he’ll find it, but there’s nothing beyond that limit. “So what, you’re going to beat me bloody and call that making an example of me?”

“No,” he says simply, and shrugs. “I’m going to break you into a cowering, cringing wretch who flinches when I raise my hand and you won’t even realise how little of you is left. And then when people come around to visit me, they’ll see you. And you’ll serve them tea, and you will do so without a single error, exactly as I ask.” 

He pauses, and a nasty smile crosses his face. “That’s the example I’m going to make of you. I’m going to fucking break you.”

And it strikes me, properly, that I’m handcuffed to a chair in this man’s basement. It strikes me, it terrifies me. All those horrific tools and here I was, thinking maybe they’d just smash me to pieces, but no, I was stupid to think the Specials would ever give you a single-edged sword to plunge into your own stomach. No, of course not. He’s promising something more horrendous than a short lifetime of agony under his hands- he’s promising the slow implosion of my mind. The whittling down of my personality into something I never wanted it to be.

Annihilation in a still-living body, and it terrifies me.

And he just carries on talking like he hasn’t just put the fear of God Himself into me, with that little hands-in-the-pockets shrug. “I don’t like noise. I don’t like the way you scream and swear and wail. You are not going to learn anything whilst you can still talk.”

I snarl at him. Desperate, afraid anger. “I’m not going to learn anything from you, you fucking-”

He interrupts me, talking over me. “Therefore, I’m going to sew your fucking mouth shut and save us all the hassle.”

I start to laugh. He can’t be serious. And then he walks over to the table and sifts through the trays, taking out a thick needle and a roll of metal thread. The laughter turns to tears of fear. “No, no, no,” I plead with him. He’s serious. He’s serious. He’s going to stitch my mouth shut. “Please, please, no.”

He doesn’t seem to even notice and threads the needle deftly, first try.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck!” I cry, seeing him twist the end of the thread around the needle so it doesn’t come unthreaded. “Fuck, I thought you weren’t serious! That’s barbaric!”

He holds the point up to the light. “I’m always serious. Learn that quickly.”

“No, no, you can’t do this-” 

“I can.” He pierces through my bottom lip and the pain makes my eyes water. “Shut up or I’ll break half your fucking teeth before I sew your mouth shut and leave you with a mouthful of blood and enamel for the rest of your life.” He makes the first stitch and I swallow sharply. He sews alarmingly quickly and neatly.

I realise he’s crossing them over, making a row of neat little crosses over my lips. “Stop! Stop!” I slur, as he pulls his latest stitch tight. There are tears streaming down my face- more out of instinct than anything. He just keeps going.

I realise that if I want to say something coherent, now is probably my last chance. Then I realise I can do much more than just say something. I spit at Mere, the best that I can with half my mouth sewn tightly shut. It hits him across the face, and he drops the needle, wiping his face on the back of his hand with a look of furious surprise.

“You can… stop me talk- talkin’ but you can’ stop me thinkin’,” I manage to say, feeling the stitches tear through my skin every time I move my lips. I have to swallow back the harder sounds in the words just to keep my mouth as still as I possibly can. “My… head is my own and it always will be. Example. Or not.” 

His jaw twitches. Just like my father. “You know, normally, I’d break your ankles for spitting at me like that,” he says quietly. “I’ll take that as a learning lesson. You had the opportunity to say anything. Anything at all. And you chose to spit at me and make some quaint little statement of defiance. I hope you know, you’ll regret wasting the opportunity.”

Something tears as I swallow the spit I’ve used to talk. I know I’ll pay for this, but oh, as I taste the blood dripping into my mouth, from my ruined lips, I know it was worth it. Mere picks up the needle and carries on stitching. One more cross-stitch and it feels like I don’t have the range of motion to talk without ripping my face in two. The final three are just painful reminders that he is imposing silence on me.

Too bad I still have vocal chords. That’s something he’s going to be hard-pressed to take away from me, if that’s even possible. I scream through it all, even as he tuts at me, pulling stitches tighter than they really need to be. I can scream at the top of my lungs without moving my mouth.

I keep screaming, even as he loops over the last stitch and pulls it tight through my angry and inflamed flesh. It hurts like hell, throbbing, stinging, itching and almost everything in between. I can feel the heat radiating from where the thread is tearing away at the flesh and blood of the holes he’s put through my lips.

I want to tear him to fucking pieces. A distraught sort of fury. How dare he stitch my mouth shut. How dare he even think he has the right. How dare he then go right ahead and do it. How dare he. I want to rip his eyes out. I want to tear out his tongue. I want to rip the stitches out of my face and then make him eat the metal wire. The scream that I keep making, sucking in shaky breaths that jog the stitches each time I do, is one of tearful bitter rage.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous,” he says, and takes something else from the table. I look at it, and then the scream of rage turns to indignance. A shock collar- I’ve never seen one before, but the design leaves so little to the imagination. Even the metal prongs on the back of the hefty box on the side of it is pretty evidently holding one hell of a shock. “This is a shock collar,” he says to me, holding it up. “I think you’ve worked that out.”

He stoops down to place it around my neck. “If you decide to make a break for it, this will go off.” He checks the prongs make contact with my skin before bringing the two ends of the collar to meet each other, overlapping the holes punched into the plastic leather. He turns around again and takes a metal plate and a screwdriver from the table. “And it’s a nasty little thing. But it probably won’t kill you.”

He pauses as he lines up the screws. “Unfortunate for you, maybe,” he says, and screws the collar onto me with a little laugh under his breath. I can smell stale coffee every time he exhales, his hair is greasy and his nails are fucking filthy, and here he is, screwing a fucking shock collar onto me like I’m the animal here.

There are no words I would have to say even if I could. I glare at him, mouth stitched shut, blood dripping down my chin. I hate you, I want to say. My eyes should be more than enough.

He just rubs his forehead, trying to ease a headache, and then crouches down in front of me. “Now we’re a little quieter, why don’t we talk about what’s going to happen next?” He lifts my head up to look at him, my blood dribbling down my chin, shaking and trembling, whimpering quietly as every breath I take makes the steel thread tear further into my skin. The shock collar sits heavy against my throat, the prongs itching at my skin. “Because you have some choices you need to make, and you aren’t going to like them.”

[eloquent-music]

// Well its finished but Tarn is so...severely large against Pharma, if I made Pharma a bit taller it wouldn’t look quite as big of a size difference oh my god. I know he’s only like 8 feet shorter supposedly to Tarn. But this is much more than 8 feet. So Im going to throw it onto my other laptop and retrace it and resize goddamn PHARMA 

Its Tarn putting a blue flower crown on top of Pharma’s head because Red and I headcannon that when Pharma died he had found Tarn already in the afterlife and lived on together there happily bc fuck everyone else man. THEYRE HAPPY NOW. So I wanted it to be a gentle drawing of these two ;u; ITS FINE OVERALL BUT HES A LIL SHORT  

[onsunnyside]

Bestie?? Babe?? My love??

JUST WATCHED GRAY MAN AND I HAVE A VERY SPECIFIC REQUEST!!!

Alright imagine this: Lloyd Hansen is a brat tamer. BuT—he fucking loves when reader is a brat. He low key encourages it. He’s all like “yeah? Tell me how much you hate me” and teasing like “you’re so cute when you pout. So cute and so dumb, baby.” and he just sits there laughing at readers brattiness/stubbornness and then BAM!! Total flip once she crosses the line and he’s dishing out a Lloyd Hansen specially served punishment 😎

Keep up the amazing work luvie ~ ✨🐰💕🎀

YESS !! BRAT SUPPORTER AND TAMER LLOYD HANSEN !!

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | dad’s best friend!Lloyd Hansen x brat!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | age gap, size difference, mean daddy!lloyd, smut - minors dni, unprotected sex, mirror sex, rough sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, dumbification, spanking, choking (mhm biceps), size kink, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, gagging (on fingers), breeding kink.

𝗪/𝗖 | 883

𝗔/𝗡 | he’s so condescending, i’m in love. 

˗ˏˋ𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ♡⋆* 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

“Look at that cute fuckin’ face, you grumpy, baby?”

“S-Shut—uh!” You barely manage a grunt, the breath is knocked out of you with every rock of his hips. Your dress is half torn, the flimsy silk was paper in the older man’s hands, and now it’s just a mess of thread and straps.  

In the reflection, you watch him pound into you. That familiar red flush spread down his face to his neck, disappearing under the collar of his tight shirt. His hair falls over his forehead as he groans lowly, gnawing on his lip as you clench around him. Your wetness smears down your thighs and his cock, forming a creamy ring around the thick base. 

His belt jingles with every thrust, the metal is cool against your heated skin, and that burn only blooms brighter when his palm lands on your ass. “Awe, you pouting now? Wanna tell daddy what’s wrong?” Lloyd smirks, yanking you firmly against his chest, wrapping his arm around your neck. “Is it your make-up, baby? ‘Cause, it’s all ruined now that you’re cryin’ like a little dumb baby?”

At your choked moans, he flexes his bicep, filthily licking the side of your face. “So fucking good,” He rails into you, splitting your cunt apart on his girth, his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. “C’mon, use that pretty mouth for daddy.” 

Your only response is a sob, your whole body convulsing as the fat tip rams into your sweet spot. Your knees go weak, the numbness climbing up your spine until you collapse lifeless into his chest. 

Lloyd curses, “Oh, that’s the spot, huh? Dirty slut, you gonna cream for me while your dad’s downstairs? Cum all over my cock and let me pump you full, maybe I’ll even knock you up to teach you some responsibility.” 

God yes, you wanted that more than anything, but you still had a party to host and you couldn’t do that with his seed dripping down your leg. 

“B-But, you promised.” You gasp, tears trailing down your face, “Pull out, Lloyd, you said—”

“I said a bunch of things, I doubt you remember it all.” His bicep presses against your neck, hoisting you upright as his thrusts get rougher and further burn your knees on the carpet. 

“I hate you.” 

“Yeah? Keep sweet talking me, baby, and I’ll really fill you up.”

You tighten at that, if he hadn’t torn your favourite dress, you would’ve begged for his cum. “You fucking asshole. I’ll scream—” You’re cut off by the loss of air, your eyes shoot open and meet his gaze in the reflection. 

His teeth are bared, sharp and shiny, like the ones of a beast preparing for a hunt. He doesn’t falter when your nails dig into his arm, “What was that?”

He chuckles when you struggle to breathe, and once he deems you’ve had enough, he loosens his hold. “Dumb little brat, can’t even speak.” Lloyd mocks, slipping his other hand between your legs to rub your clit. “Fucked too good, she can’t even think.” He releases you and you collapse onto the floor once again. 

The carpet is still wet from your previous tears and drool, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he lands swats on your button. Your make-up is far beyond salvation, following the destruction of your dress, you know you won’t be returning to the party tonight. After this—after him, you won’t be walking straight for the next few days. 

He’s so much bigger than you, so ravenous, you wouldn’t want him any other way. 

He taps the side of your head, “mhm—yup, sounds empty.” 

If you could, you’d smack him or say something that’ll knock him down a peg, but all traces of defiance are replaced by pleasure, shattering your world as you uselessly tug at the carpet. 

“You’re so mean!” You whimper, reaching back to hit him but he grabs your arm and pins it behind your back. He uses the leverage to arch your back and present yourself to him, slamming balls deep into your wet cunt with enough force to jerk you closer to the mirror. 

He leans down, his weight pinning you down. “And you’re a spoiled brat. Throwing a fucking tantrum because the waiters were wearing coral pink instead of peach pink? For that fit, you don’t deserve any attention tonight—you’re lucky I’m even here.” 

You know that’s a lie. Lloyd wanted to come to your party, he even helped plan and cleared his schedule for the week to spend time with you, and your father, of course. Normally, you’d correct him, loving the pride that came with being right, all while he was wrong. 

“Tell me how I’m being mean, baby. Mean daddies don’t even touch their girls when they misbehave—you’re a lucky one.” His big hand forcefully moves your head, and his fingers slip into your gaped mouth. You gag, saliva dribbling down your chin.

“You gonna apologize for being such a brat, pumpkin?” He slips them further down as your throat contracts, he’s trained you for this—by holding your head down on his cock and fucking your face. “No? Since you aren’t using your mouth, I’ll just keep it nice and full. Same with your pussy because I’m not pulling out.”

[spice-chan]

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k 

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot​

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard. 

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.” 

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips. 

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize. 

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none. 

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface. 

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift. 

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest. 

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders. 

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further. 

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear. 

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second. 

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface. 

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.” 

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine. 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth. 

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t. 

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon. 

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to. 

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now? 

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.” 

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks. 

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.”  Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise. 

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor. 

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong. 

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard. 

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting. 

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off. 

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit. 

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you. 

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter. 

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him,  making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant. 

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper. 

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute. 

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey. 

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content. 

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it. 

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you. 

“So it's true, huh?” 

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused. 

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him. 

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.” 

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really. 

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.” 

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside. 

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat. 

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized. 

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water. 

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear. 

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again. 

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.” 

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions. 

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do. 

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes. 

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace. 

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous. 

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.  

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right? 

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions. 

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions. 

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine. 

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth. 

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him. 

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile. 

“You look dumb” 

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away. 

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry? 

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool. 

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner. 

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving. 

You were sleeping. 

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle. 

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily. 

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red. 

He wondered how much you cried. 

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone. 

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy. 

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly. 

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.” 

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*. 

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.” 

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous. 

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly. 

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop. 

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs. 

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone. 

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you. 

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable. 

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes. 

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad. 

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure. 

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating. 

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him. 

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved. 

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red. 

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant? 

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter. 

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words. 

You slapped his hand away. 

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall. 

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you” 

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding. 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.” 

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist. 

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman? 

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.” 

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou. 

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator. 

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute. 

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is. 

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over. 

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you. 

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”  

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you. 

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules. 

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled. 

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile. 

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck. 

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair. 

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you. 

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly. 

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.” 

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.” 

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing. 

Is that all it takes to win you over? 

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed. 

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison. 

[megumiluvr]

“i like my women quiet, and now i think you’ll do nicely.”

make it fit — naoya zenin.

warnings:

misogyny, a lot of it. T__T. naoya is really mean, dubcon/noncon(?), choking, size kink, dacryphilia, drool (it’s all just gross), degradation, praise but you can see the ulterior motive behind it, dumbification, one mention of a corpse.

word count: 854.

notes: i am... back from the dead?!? with this really gross awful unproofread misogynist naoya drabble. i have to credit @sukirichi, i’ve been reading a lot of your naoya stuff recently and it was so good that i somehow awoke from my 8 month writing coma to bang out this mini monstrosity. thanks for the inspo!!! <3 p.s. reader has female anatomy and gets called ‘good girl’ !

“you’re such a fucking crybaby,” he hisses, hips rolling into yours without regard for your comfort, forcing in what wouldn’t fit when he tried caring about your tears. “it took me so fucking long to get into your panties, i took you on so many— so many shitty dates, and let you talk about your boring self as if i was interested.” his voice is seething, the panties in question currently stuffed between your lips, muffling your sobs and resulting in a collection of drool from the sides of your mouth. his movements are animalistic, and you think about how stupid you were to believe he could actually care for you.

“and once i do manage to get you into bed,” he continues, a growl in his tone accompanying a particularly harsh thrust, “you won’t even let me fuck you. i tried to be nice, stretch you out a little, play with your stupid little cunt to shut you up for just a minute, but no—“ his voice suddenly becomes girlish and mocking, evidently an attempt to humiliate you further: “‘i can’t, i can’t— it hurts, stop—‘, such a fucking baby.”

he returns to his usual pitch to spit the insult right at your face, which is already streaked with tears, your cheeks hot and covered in smudged makeup- (you think back to getting yourself dolled up for the date, eager to see him again. he’s nothing like other guys, you’re sure! he’s so polite and charming, not at all like the sleazebags who usually try and chat you up. it’ll be different this time, you reason. you witness your vision tinge with black and feel his hand tighten around your throat, and realise how wrong you were.)

his grip releases your limp wrists- you’re fucked too dumb to try and push him off any more- and reaches for your chest, flicking a pert nipple with a harsh finger.

“fuck,” he groans, his hips stuttering for just a second before he pulls out, flipping your ragdoll-like body over and slipping in again, “you’re so wet... are you sure you weren’t pretending about it hurting, sweetheart?” his tone has turned condescending, and you hate how the nickname he’d used on your first meeting can still affect you. your answer never comes, evidently, and he chuckles darkly as he pushes your head down into the mattress by the back of your neck.

“god, you’re so much prettier when you keep your mouth shut, baby. no more— yapping, and rambling about your interests that i don’t care about, you’re so perfect like this. my personal fucktoy, huh? aren’t you my good toy now?”

it’s cruel, and he knows you can’t reply, so he yanks your head up by your hair, the sting causing you to cry out, and makes you nod for him.

“that’s right, baby. you don’t need to talk. i like my women quiet, and i think now you’ll do nicely.”

he lets your head fall to the bed again, your cheek smushed against the sheets as he pauses the pounding of his hips to reach for your face, grabbing the fat of your flushed cheeks and pulling the now soaked panties out from between your swollen lips.

“i’m sure you’ll know better than to take this as permission to speak, darling.”

words race through your thoughts, comprising contempt and indignance along with pleas- you try to say “please don’t stop”, “it feels so good” and the like, but it all comes out as slurred syllables; he fucks you so good to the point that you’ve lost the articulateness that you’re always so proud of.

“you good, honey?” he gazes at your face, and the way your tongue is lolling out of your mouth, drooling. “oh, you’re so gross.” the sentence is said with an obvious grin, the bastard’s proud of his handiwork. “but you know i love it.” his strong hand lets go of your face, instead moving to uncharacteristically gently move your hair from your face where it’s stuck to the mix of saliva and tears- the juxtaposition reminds you again of how you’d truly thought that he’d cared.

his hips are pistoning again, slower this time; you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock dragging against your velvet walls. a tap to your temple brings you out of your stupor- you’re mindless, you’re a mess, it’s humiliating, but he smiles down at you. “you still in there?” he taps again at your forehead and your eyes slide closed. “hey, hey. look at me. i don’t wanna fuck a corpse, you won’t squeeze me as good then.”

his remark somehow makes it through the fog in your brain and you blink up at him, chin crumpling and lips pouting in displeasure. “there y’are, baby. just wanted to make sure you’re still kicking.” the corner of his lip quirks up into a half-smile as his face comes close to yours, kissing the pout that’s formed there. he’s speeding up again and your eyes roll back into your head.

“there y’go. that’s my good girl. there’s still so much fun i’m gonna have with you.”

[y0urlittl3ang3l]

NSFW Garrance Headcanons!

*if you're under like 15 you probably shouldn't be here- but I mean I won't stop you from reading it*

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.

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Garroth is a soft dom and I stand by that

Garroth lives for praising Laurance

Garroth can't decide on a single name to call Laurance so he just says whatever comes to mind, "Darling", "Sweet boy", "My love", "Angel", "Pretty baby", "Honey" and "Rose" are the main ones(do not bring up how they're almost the exact same as the normal petnames)

Laurance loves it when Garroth is rough with him, grabbing him roughly by the waist, pulling his hair, gripping his neck. But Garroth doesn't always do it, it's only when he need to blow off steam he does it

Garroth wants to be gentle and loving with Laurance, but he also just wants to completely wreck him too

Laurance cries when he feels really good, so you can bet that whenever he and Garroth do it he's straight up sobbing

At first Garroth got really worried about him, but he stopped when Laurance explained he was just crying because of the intense pleasure

Laurance likes to fight for dominance, but it doesn't mean he wants to be dominant

Laurance talks back occasionally, Garroth just smiles though and says "Just watch your mouth for me, okay Angel?" In such a sweet tone that Laurance just melts

Garroth likes to overstimulate Laurance until he's crying and begging for it to stop

" Please Darling, just a little longer for me.."

" Aw, you look so pretty when you cry My Love~"

God I'd love to hear Garroth say this-

Laurance loves how Garroth can fuck him into a drooling, crying mess and still look at him and tell him how gorgeous he looks with the sweetest eyes

It's rare but Laurance still loves it whenever Garroth calls him his Precious little slut

Laurance is super vocal during sex, and after keeping the village up one night Garroth decided that maybe they should do it somewhere else

There are days though where Garroth gets tired and just wants someone else to take control and Laurence always takes good care of him

Garroth is so sweet with aftercare, he'll clean up Laurance with a warm towel and pepper kisses on the skin where bruises begin to blossom. And he'll also just hold Laurance close to his body, whispering quiet confessions and sweet nothings into Laurance's ear until he falls asleep

Can you tell how desperate I am for someone to be like Garroth?

Sometimes Garroth will indulge Laurance and blindfold him with a scarf or tie his arm behind his back and tease him with kisses and sucks at Laurance's sensitive areas

Garroth does really enjoy watching Laurance fall apart for the gentle kisses and sucks^

Laurance likes biting into Garroth's skin with his sharp ass teeth because of the breathy groans Garroth makes

If there's one thing Laurance enjoys riding other than Garroth's..y'know..it's Garroth's thighs

Garroth loves it when Laurance begs, there's just something about looking down at the brunette on his knees begging tearily for Garroth to fuck him senseless

Garroth will and has fucked Laurance until the Shadow knight's thighs are shaking, is babbling nonsense and can barely let out a moan, a look of pure bliss all over his face

God is it wrong for me to think that Laurance would love for Garroth to just spit in his mouth and command for him to swallow it?

Why is that so hot to me-

Garroth kisses Laurance each time he's super close to coming, it's comforting to him in a sense

Laurance lowkey wants Garroth to degrade him but he doesn't bring it up

Laurance also just really wants Garroth to slap him, but Garroth would never🥲

Laurance really, really likes the idea of being bred..even though he is very much male and cannot get pregnant

Laurance has a size kink and can't get over how hot he thinks their height difference and how Garroth's buff body easily overpowers his own skinny one

Bulge kink.

Garroth is a very possessive man, he definitely growls "You're mine, and only mine." Into Laurance's ear whenever he gets rough

Garroth also marks Laurance up a lot, making sure there's hickeys all over Laurance's neck and shoulders

Laurance is a scratcher so Garroth has scratch marks all over his back from Larance

Garroth will also edge Laurance as well on some days as a punishment for when Laurance misbehaves

By the end of it Laurance is a crying mess, babbling out apologies and begging to cum

Dante and have walked in on them before, he blushed furiously before running off to try and forget about what he saw

[drakenology]

𝐁𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  ♡  𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : smut!, daddy kink, violence & mentions of blood, established relationship, dumbification, face slapping (politely), dirty talk, degradation, a pinch of knife play (he just cuts your panties open), exhibitionism, breeding kink, cum, fingering, swearing and size kink if you get a magnifying glass. 

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Hey sexy bitches. This one’s for my Vice City event. I scrapped so many ideas to get here which is why I extended the due date for it.. Anyways! Enjoy, sluts. Daichi supremacy. 

He sat at the bar; tall, dark and handsome. He had this roughness to him, his hands riddled with scars and his face rocking one just above his eyebrow. He was one of your most handsome regulars. He always came in around 12 am on Friday, all blooded up and battered from god knows what. Tonight was no different. You sigh, taking in his strong arm that was now covered in bandage wrapping. You strut over to him, pulling your top up a bit to push up your breasts. 

“What can I get ya, handsome?” You ask charmingly. He looks up from his empty glass, his deep brown eyes soaking in your form. 

“Whiskey, neat.” He replied, smoky tone of voice vibrating against your ears as you bit your lip. 

“Comin’ right up” as you turn and walk away, adjusting your shorts after bending down to get his drink ready. His eyes trailed to your hips where your g-string sat snugly on those hips he often watched sway as you walked by to serve your patrons. Were you always this sexy? He never stopped looking at you as you poured him a drink, leaning over the bar to ask him something. 

“I swear every time you come in here you show up with a new injury. This is a bar, not a hospital. What the hell were you doin’?” You question, reaching a soft hand up to his brow as if to try and heal it with your touch. He didn’t even flinch either, almost leaning into your hand like a touch-starved puppy. You grab some napkins and wipe some blood from his leaking nose, tsk-ing at him as he sighed. He knew you’d give him shit.

“Got into this nasty scrap with some gang. One of ‘em tried robbing me.. I showed him why he shouldn’t have. His boys came after me and they caught me off guard. One of ‘em had a knife.” He admits. You flinch, looking at him in awe. What’s this guy into? 

“Be careful, Lui Kang.” You tease, sliding a glass of ice over to him from one end of the bar while you took some orders. 

Not even a few moments later, someone came up to you at the bar. This sleazy looking man with his hair gelled back so thickly it didn’t move as he craned his head to look you up and down. 

“Hey, sweetface. Get me a drink, will ya?” His voice like a natural irritant. You turn to him and take his order, your protective regular watching him closely as he sipped his drink. He hardly knew you; just some girl who worked at the sleazy bar he always finds himself licking his wounds in after a scrap. Still, you were always so nice to him; greeting him with a pretty smile, a cold drink and a conversation. He was just so used to violence, fighting for everything he has. He was grateful to have just one ray of sunshine. Vice City, nor his life had ever granted him that luxury. 

As you serve the man his drink, he takes a sip and makes this repugnant face. 

“Women. Not even good for making a man a fuckin’ decent drink.” He snaps, tossing the drink towards your direction; the glass almost hitting you. You scream as the glass shatters against the wall, your regular standing from his stool to give him a piece of his mind. 

“Fuck’s your problem, tough guy?” He spits at him, grunting when a fist suddenly meets the bridge of his nose. The thud causes you to jump, staring at the scene with wide eyes as your heart slammed against your chest. Of course you were no stranger to bar fights, but this? How could one man make violence look so tempting. You gasp as you watch him pick that grease ball up by his shirt and practically toss him out the doors of the pub. 

“Fuck off home, before I decide to kill you.” 

 He takes his seat back at the bar to find you cleaning up the mess, noticing your startled and clumsy movements from shock. 

“You okay?” He asked, concerned. You nod. As tough as you try to front to be, you were scared shitless. Though this wouldn’t be the first nor last asshole to grace your bar. 

“I can handle myself, ya know?”, putting up a front that you didn’t need his help. You were grateful. But he doesn’t have to know that.

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Remind me not to interfere, miss independent.” You stare into his deep chocolate brown eyes and lean closer to him. 

“What, am I supposed to thank you now?” You tease, taking a cherry and sticking it in your mouth. 

“It’d be nice.” He smirks, raising an eyebrow at you. You giggle, leaning over to give him an innocent kiss on the cheek as a token of gratitude. 

“Thanks.” 

After that fateful day, you and Daichi were attached at the hip. He brought you everywhere with him as if his scene was safe and tidy. Most nights consisted of dressing his wounds after watching him roughhouse at his fight club. You never minded caring for him since you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. 

The life he lived, the way he made his money just to get by was terrifying and... exciting. You always came with him for his matches whenever someone had bet big money on him or if some assholes wanna settle a score. You always stood in the loud crowd as they watched, beer bottles and cigarettes littering the concrete ground. Daichi told you to always wear his name chain so that the guys knew who you belonged to, those dudes can get real handsy and Daichi would hate to have to hurt a friend. God, you were such a distraction. Daichi stared at you almost too long; dodging a swing of a knife as he took his opponent down with his bare hands. The crowd smashed more glass against any nearby surface to celebrate, the other half of the crowd booing and hissing. 

After he was declared the winner, he got his cut of the bet in cold hard cash; about a nice $200,000. Boy was he frisky after that. His big hands stayed planted right on your ass as he walked you both out and onto the streets to walk home. Your walks were always so peaceful after the boisterous and rowdy night. But tonight, Daichi wanted to claim the second part of his prize. He swiftly scooped you up in his arms, sitting you atop a car parked on the side of the steady street. He pulled his knife out from his back pocket, spreading your legs with his palm. 

“Better not make a fucking sound, baby. ‘Else everyone’s gonna hear how much of a whore you are for your daddy.” He grunts, taking the blade to cut your panties apart by the crotch from under your skirt. Your pussy was now on full display for him and quite possibly the ongoing traffic driving by. You shudder as the cold breeze hits your bare skin, looking at him with doe eyes - only making him want you more. 

“What? Don’t act like you don’t want it like this, babe.” his voice thick with lust as his thick finger reach up to pinch your nipples through your thin top. “God, look at these.” as his hands grope and squeeze the softness of your breasts. You’re moaning into the air as his lips kiss your neck feverishly, taking your top and lifting it up over your breasts. 

“You want my dick don’t you, baby?” He whispers into your ear, your thighs starting to tremble just at the low, brassy tone of his voice. You nod, your cunt fluttering as it starts to drip with slick. Your obedience has him feeling firm, the brunt side of his hard cock starting to grind against you through his jeans. You gasp, Daichi’s hands still pinching and teasing your nipples as his hips grind to make you feel good. You start moving your own hips to follow his movements, Daichi groaning as he watched you try and get yourself off. 

“Look at you humpin’ me like a little bitch in heat.” He spat, a whimper leaving your mouth as you start getting desperate. His hands stop your hips in place, his eyes seemingly dilated with a dark appearance. 

“Take it out since you want it so bad.. yeah, put it in for me. Work for it, slut.” He demands, tapping your cheek to keep your eyes focused on his. He slaps the other side of your face as he snapped his hips, this chubby cock seemingly splitting you open as you cry out. He starts off brutally, as if he weren’t railing you out in public in the middle of the night on some stranger’s car. You weren’t making the scene any more discreet with all your pathetic groans, your hands pulling at his shirt to hold onto something. Your mind became cloudy, panting and sobbing like a real whore. Daichi’s just enjoying the sight of you ruined underneath him, slapping you in the face once more to snap you back from your daydream causing you to gasp. The sting faded as his hand went to stroke the blow with his thumb, the rest of his hand lifting your chin.

“Look at me. Don’t cum until I say so, got it? I feel your greedy cunt sucking me up already.” He says, thumb pressing up against your clit just to make it harder for you to contain yourself. You feel your walls squeeze him, whimpering with every vein of this cock sliding in and out of your walls so addictively. Your hands claw at his back, drooling into his shoulder as you start trying to grind your hips to change the pace. He grunts and holds you still as he slides his thick cock in and out of you slower to tease you, smirking when you start to cry. 

“Pl-Please go faster, Da-Daddy, please, I can’t-” You whine, interrupted by a harsh slap to your outer thigh causing you to yelp.

“You can and you will. Daddy’s almost there, c’mon. You don’t want me to punish you out here, do you?” He coos, opening your mouth by squishing your cheeks together, spitting on your tongue and tapping your chin. You shake your head and try your best to take him for a little while longer, your slick oozing all over the hood of the car you were pinned to. As your eyes roll back, you feel Daichi’s cock start to throb intensely, a sign he was close. Relief was soon to come. 

“G’head and cum for daddy, baby. Want you throbbing for me, c’mon, you wanted to cum so bad.” Daichi urged, swiftly flicking your clit to help you. You cum in a flash, white lights shining behind your eyes as you scream his name. Seconds later he fills you, pumping his hot seed into your pussy before pulling out to watch it spill out onto the cold metal of the car. 

“Sloppy little whore.” He spits, taking his fingers to scoop it up and shove it inside you, pumping his fingers to secure it inside. You pant, your thighs trembling as Daichi hoists you up on his back to carry you the rest of the way home. 

Your eyes close, humming as you lean into his shoulder. A silent “I love you”. The walk was silent and safe, dozing off on Daichi’s shoulder as he trudged through the mean streets of the neighborhood you both lived in. 

[pixy-stix-art]

I was thinking about the tiny assistant au and like how it would be so crazy and jarring if benchtrio switched places! Idk how that would work logically, the best my brain could think up is either a shared dream or just like, not cannon but I would love to see you write it.! Ranboo having to get used to being big and not having information just. Fed through their brain + having to walk everywhere and being super tired bc tubbo usually carries them. And not knowing how gentle to be with tubbo.1/2

Ok so I know I should work on the beginning of this AU, but this was too good not to do something for. So not cannon, but a very good idea. I don’t know how close this ended up being what you wanted, but I hope you like it. This would take place before Tubbo finds Tommy and shortly after Tubbo and ranboo actually become friends.

(I spent way to much time on this and I’m still not perfectly happy with it so hope you enjoy. I was to frustrated to grammar check too, also sorry it’s short)

THE SWITCH

Tiny assistant AU

(Warnings: accidentally fear play, hurt/comfort panic)

———————————————————————

Ranboo gasped at he woke up. He was on a soft surface. He must be on Tubbo’s pillow. He set up looking to see if Tubbo was awake yet. But now as he set up he was equal size with all the bed and all the familiar furniture of Tubbo’s room. He tried not to panic thinking this must be a dream, but he didn’t have dreams… He slowly stood up looking around. He was human sized now. He tried to feel outwards with his mind for his phone to maybe figure out what happened. But he couldn’t feel his phone. Ok, now he could panic.

Tubbo grumbled as he woke up on a hard cold surface. He couldn’t remember why he wasn’t in his warm soft bed. He set up rubbing his eyes. He froze as he looked around. He… he was sitting on top of a phone…on his desk. He yelled scrambling away from the phone. That he now recognized as Ranboo’s. “What the fuck?!” He yelled catching up to the fact that he was small. As small as Ranboo or Tommy was.

Ranboo jumped out of his spiraling thoughts as he heard a scream. A familiar one, Tubbo. He looked around not seeing his friend. “Tubbo?” He called out.

Tubbo froze as a voice calling his name rang out. He covered his ears, it was too loud! He wimped as he felt information buzz in his head informing his that it was Ranboo who called him. But how was Ranboo so lound? Unless… He slowly took his hands off his ears now fully looking at his giant room. There stood someone who he assumed was Ranboo, but he didn’t look quite the same…. He looked human. No mismatched skin or tux. Just a normal black shirt with black n white pants, and blonde-ish hair. “Ranboo…?” He called out nervously to who he hoped was his friend.

Ranboo heard a small voice say his name. He turned looking at the desk. His eyes widened to see Tubbo standing on the desk. He slowly walked over and bent down so he could be at eye level with Tubbo. “What happened?” He asked eyes shining with awe.

“I-I don’t know….” Tubbo said backing up from his much bigger friend. Oh god….he was so much taller now…

“I think we switched, I’m human and you’re a assistant?” Ranboo tilted his head. Tubbo looked a bit different. Did he have, horns? He reached out to Tubbo curious of what he was looking at. He quickly pulled his hand back seeing the fear on Tubbo’s face. “Oh, sorry…” He winced.

Tubbo took a deep breath seeing the giant hand retreat. “Um, it’s ok. You just startled me a bit.” He was more then startled but he Rudy want Ranboo to feel bad. He was so much bigger now, Ranboo could literally do anything to him right now. Maybe he would? After all Tubbo did to him at first, why wouldn’t Ranboo want a little revenge?

“Oh, ok.” Ranboo said much softer now. He felt bad for scaring Tubbo. He wasn’t used to being scary. Tubbo must be so freaked out. “I was just curious about your horns.” He said.

“My whAT?!” Tubbo screeched feeling his head. Sure enough there was two small horns coming out of his head. “I have horns?!” He yelled freaking out again.

“Whao! It ok.” Ranboo said trying to calm him down without touching him. “You’re a assistant now. It’s not permanent!” He rushed out not wanting Tubbo to get to upset. Negative emotions took up more battery. He didn’t want Tubbo to have to deal with a low battery.

“How do we know it’s not permanent?! We don’t even know what happened to us!” Tubbo glared at Ranboo. He paced the top of his desk. “I’m so small right now anything could happen! I have a headache from this constant stream of information running though my head! I can’t even understand half of it, and you could do whatever you wanted to me! You could take your revenge for everything I did to you…” Tubbo stoped pacing as he got the the end of his rant. He looked nervously up at Ranboo. Oh no, this is when he hurts me. He thought.

Ranboo felt horrible hearing the end of Tubbo’s rant. He wasn’t going to hurt Tubbo! They were friends now, he wouldn’t ever hurt him. “Oh, Tubbo. No I’m not going to hurt you.” He said sadly.

“B-but I deserve it. After hurting you so much…. I should have some sort of punishment for what I did.” He hung his head. He tensed up seeing Ranboo being his hands up to him and curl around him. He squeezed his eyes closed.

Ranboo gently and slowly curled his hands around Tubbo. He gently rubbed Tubbo’s back. “Hey, Tubbo look at me.” He said softly.

Tubbo slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Ranboo. “W-what are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to do anything.” Ranboo frowned. “You’re my friend Tubbo. I’m would never hurt you. I know you’re scared, but it’ll be ok. I promise.”

Tubbo broke down going to hug Ranboo’s fingers. “I-I’m so sorry.” He sobbed clinging to Ranboo.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know how scary it is. But I’ll help you till you get back to normal.” Ranboo said curling his fingers around Tubbo. “Can I pick you up.” He asked.

Tubbo was nervous to be held. But he nodded anyway. If Ranboo wasn’t going to hurt him then it should be ok to be held. He just wished he could turn his brain off.

Ranboo curled his fingers around Tubbo picking him up. He was fascinated by what it felt like to hold a small person. He was surprised feel how protective he was over Tubbo like this. “You ok?” He asked holding him near his face.

“I think so….” Tubbo said starring into Ranboo’s eyes with awe. They where so close right now.

“Ok good.” Ranboo sighed. He smiled softly noticing Tubbo staring. “Whatcha looking at?” He asked with a chuckle.

“What? Nothing!” Tubbo looked away laughing. The tension was slowly going away.

“Uh huh…” Ranboo rolled his eyes. He smiled. It was good to hear Tubbo laughing.

It was calm as they talked like they always did. Till Tubbo frowned feeling a ache in his arm. “Ow….” He mumbled.

“What’s wrong?” Ranboo asked.

“My arm feels funny?” Tubbo shook his head.

“Does it hurt?” Ranboo held Tubbo closer looking him over.

“Kinda? It’s really not that-“ Tubbo jumped as a lound voice? Ran through his head telling him he needed to charge and the pain got worse.

“Tubbo?!” Ranboo asked worriedly.

“I- think the battery in the phone is low…” He leaned back in Ranboo’s hand not being able to sit up.

“Oh no-“ Ranboo rushed to find his, no Tubbo’s phone. He grabbed it and hurriedly plugged it into a charger. He looked back at Tubbo in his hand. “Is that better?”

“A little.” Tubbo nodded. “The pain is going away.” All though slowly… he wasn’t going to tell Ranboo that.

“Ok good.” He sighed. He hadn’t wanted Tubbo a go though that. He should’ve kept an eye on the phone. “I’m so sorry I should have charged the phone sooner.”

“It’s ok. I’m ok.” Tubbo waved Ranboo off.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not…” Ranbo was going to say more but was cut off by a door opening and closing now stairs.

“What was that?” Tubbo asked hearing the loud slam.

“I think that was your dad coming home.” Ranboo said quietly frozen still.

“Oh shit-“

[keiarchived]

Hey, congrats on 500! Can I get Yandere!God!Hawks kidnapping priestess!reader from his temple to keep as his wife, including forcing immortality on her because she was his most faithful. -🧶 Anon

Thank you bub! ♥️ ALSO YES TO YOUR CONCEPT 🥴💦 thats fucking hot 🥵

yandere!god!Hawks x priestess!reader

warnings: yandere, dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, power abuse, manipulation, blood play, size difference kinda, cum inflation, master kink, no editing, sleepyish writing

words: 1.1k

For as long as you could remember, your people have always worshiped this red winged higher being; Hawks. A God of freedom and compassion. He is said to have gorgeous honey blonde hair that matches those sharp eyes, large scarlet wings that let him soar through the sky like a Phoenix. It is unclear how accurate these descriptions passed down generations of your family are, it could’ve easily been made up just to give everyone a clearer vision on the God they are worshipping. But only for you to find out your ancestors weren’t wrong, “So you’re the new priestess?”

The first time Hawks reached out to you, personally, shivers crawls down your spine as goosebumps scattered. His voice is smoother than you’d imagine, tone lay back almost to the extend of lazy and well he is as charming as people made him to be, there are no doubts about that. “I-I am and you are-“

“Hawks.”

It became some kind of tradition for this higher being to throw new priestess off guard whenever he could, they are new to this almost in a naive way. ‘I’m prepared for this.’ As most would tell their elder, but nothing could prepare them for the first time Hawks would reach out to them like he had done so many times before. After all, they will be working with him for as long as they could so why not have a little fun whilst he’s at it? Surely it can’t hurt anyone.

“You’re a cute one, quivering and looking like you’re about to cry.” Hawks taunts, lips curling into this playful smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you. Stalking over ever so slowly until your back have meet the cold wall, he had been observing you from a distance ever since you walked this earth. But you don’t know that nor do you know the very same God you’re worshipping have taken a personal liking in you, “I’m j-just surprised, no one told me you’d just show up like this. At least give me a heads up sign or something.” As expected, you are different from all those stuffy suffocating and he is amused. No one have spoken to him like this for a while, not a human like you at least.

This is going to be fun.

Hawks only ever make occasional appearances whenever a pristesss calls for him either for his help or just to make a offering, but lately he’s been dropping by more often than usual with the excuses of ‘there’s some business nearby I need to take care of’ whilst in reality Hawks came to see you.

“Who’s that guy?” Your guardian angel asks, eyeing the man up and down, wanting to do nothing more than just wipe that awful pink off his face. How dare he even attempt to flirt with you? When he knows you are his and his alone. “Just a childhood friend.” With a little bit of a crush but Hawks doesn’t need to know that, it’s not like you’re hiding it from him on purpose. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you little one?” Clearly, he is unimpressed by your answer. Having to study and observe you enough from a distance, Hawks knows when you’re lying and this is one of those times.

“Of course not.” Perhaps you should’ve just been honest, rather than to face the jealousy of a God.

Hawks is known to be a trickster among the Gods, so it was no surprise when he decide to appear out of thin air just as you and that so called childhood friend was getting way too comfortable with each other, scooping you right up as though you weight nothing more than a feather. “You’re coming with me and I am not taking no as an answer, little one.” Still baffled by what happened, the next you know you are gone. Nowhere near surface of the Earth but soaring through the sky, “Hawks!”

Not that he could hear you though.

There has only ever been a few people Hawks seems worthy to be his wife and to become immortal, spending forever with him, isn’t that wonderful? Countless of people had tried to impressive him whether that be Gods or mortals alike but no one is as perfect as you, body arching and quivering in ways he had never seen before. “Beautiful...” Hawks whispered, tracing your delicate looking spine whilst the other curls around those soft locks reminding him to be careful or otherwise you just may break whilst he continue to plungs himself into your welcoming cunt.

The only sounds lolling from your mouth are of nothing but pleasure and lust, of course you tried to reason with Hawks. Saying how absurd it is with what he have done, but Hawks have his way with words. He always do. Making you believe this is the best possible outcome, how he have his eyes on you for the longest time and want you as his wife because you are the most faithful as well as beautiful among them all.

“Cry for me baby, that’s it. Fucking scream my name.” A low taunting chuckle rumbled at Hawks’ chest, mercy is now a privilege. Expecting to be treated like a princess is nothing but a naive thought after the lie you fed him, “You want to be with me right my little priestess? Or would you rather have that pathetic of a man as your husband?” The blonde mocks, chuckles soon turns into a echoing laugh instead. Bouncing all those pillars like these sweet delicious moans , “Y-You! I want to be with you!” Shameless, where did your pride and fight go? Devoured by the same God who’s currently fucking you stupid, stretching you beyond anyone have ever before.

“Good girl.” Despite the roughness of his action, Hawks praises you. “Good girl deserves rewards don’t you think?” Who doesn’t like a little reward once in a while?

As if Hawks couldn’t get any more brutal and cruel, his rhythm soon became bruising against your hips. “Ma-master!” You cried, every nudge at that ring of muscle edges those tears to stain your cheeks further with every sobs passing thought those swollen lips. “Take it all my love, take it!” God, if only there is a way to describe this fullness as your belly well with his cum. Pumping you full and to the brim as those eyes rolls back, lips gaping with a silent moan. “Fuck... fuck fuck...” If that’s how Hawks falls from his grace, so be it. 

Fingers lodge between your plum lips, forcing them open as a devilish smirk stretch across his lips. “That’s it, drink up baby. Every last drop of it.” Baffled by what Hawks meant but it didn’t take long until you could taste the iron from his fingers, keeping your tongue pressed harshly against your jaw. Forcing ever last drop of his blood down your throat, drowning from this enteral crimson.

“Rest up for now, my love. We have a long day ahead of us.”  

[inkykeiji]

day 4 ❅ let’s go below zero and hide from the sun

i love you forever where we’ll have some fun

day three ❅ day four ❅ day five | series masterlist

character: todoroki touya | dabi

genre: smut + angst

notes: eeeeeeee meery christmas eve everyone, here’s day four!!!!! day four is my favourite out of the five, so i truly hope you all enjoy it as much as i do <3 as always, please pay attention to the warnings n stay safe!! | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), implied noncon, sub-drop, panic attacks, fingering, cockwarming, car sex, mentioned drug use, generally toxic relationships, size difference, verbal fights, tense family dynamics

words: 8.4k

synopsis:

“It’s nothing,”

Tender fingers tuck a tuft of alabaster behind his ear.

“It’s not nothing,”

“It doesn’t matter,”

Gentle lips place soft kisses along his jaw.

“It matters very much to me, niichan,”

“It’s—It’s stupid, fucking stupid,”

A small palm finds solace on his cheek, cupping it as a thumb strokes the skin.

“It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you, baby,”

  ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅    

Sunlight streams through the crystal window, tiny dust motes playing hide and seek between the rays, painting golden beams across the smooth skin of Touya’s bare back, his skin almost sparkling in the warm light.

A little whimper slips from between your lips as your eyelids stick together, sealed shut by dry salt, brow furrowing as you finally pry them open. They hurt, dry and tacky and squinting against the too-bright light, spitting a hiss through your teeth.

“Ow,” you whine as you try to roll onto your side, every muscle in your body aching and stuffed full of exhaustion.

You’re sweating—Touya is always way too hot, and this bed is decidedly much too tiny for the both of you—raising a heavy arm to try and shove the sheets down to your waist, only to find that you can’t. It takes your hazy mind a few moments to realize that the sheets are stuck to your skin.

Bleary eyes blink twice, raising your head off of the plush pillow with immense effort and gazing down at your naked body. The muscles in your arms are screeching in protest as stiff, sore fingers fist in the sheets, giving one hard yank and ripping the material from your body, a sharp gasp hitching in your throat.

Hard, dried cum is splattered across your entire torso, wincing a little as you arch your back and watch it crack on your skin. Vibrant petals of indigo and violet have bloomed across your body, growing in places you don’t ever remember them being planted in.

What the hell happened last night?

It’s hard for you to recall, really, eyebrows knitting as you think hard, sifting through all of your recent memories and trying to remember when someone spurted cum all over your body.

Everything from last night is nothing but a tangled mess in your mind, with loops and crisscrosses, certain memories seeming to overlap, to morph together the more you think about them. It’s as if you’re watching an old film through a thick cloud of fog, flickering and stained with sepia as the sound keeps cutting in and out, the projector stopping once in a while, stuttering and repeating frames or burning holes through the filmstock.

It takes every ounce of strength you have to roll your beaten body onto your side, yelping softly from the massive effort. A sudden rush of tears pricks your eyes, burning in your throat as you try desperately to hold them back, to swallow them silently like a good little girl.

But it’s hard, tiny hiccupped sobs attempting to climb up your raw throat, catching painfully in your chest as you strive to suppress them, to gulp them back down, to force them back into the core of your body and stay put. Yet they refuse to cooperate, becoming more and more vicious as they fight against you, causing you to cough and choke on them as they finally escape your lips, and you mentally berate yourself for such a stupid rush of senseless emotions.

Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. It’s too early—you’re going to wake him and he’s going to be—

“Baby?” Touya croaks, voice deeper than normal, hoarser than normal.

And, God, he sounds so fucking hot in the morning.

“M’fine,” you say, though the words just come out sounding garbled and wet.

“Baby, baby, no,” he’s saying softly as he pushes himself into a sitting position, sheet pooling around his waist and exposing his chest, strong arms hooking under yours as he pulls you up and into his lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whine into his neck, shutting your eyes tightly as tears begin to leak from the corners.

“For what, princess?”

You don’t know. You just are. Shaking your head in response, you shove your face against him, letting your tears drip off your jaw and soak into his skin.

“Alright, alright,” a large hand pets your back rhythmically, up and down, up and down, fingers tracing along your spine. “Niichan’s got you,”

“What’s going on?”

The unexpected voice startles you, and you freeze in Touya’s embrace.

“Is she okay?”

It’s groggy and rough, vibrating in his throat, and you nuzzle into Touya’s shoulder, chest hiccupping.

“I don’t—I’m not sure,” Touya responds, and you can hear it, that hint of worry laced in his voice, accompanied by a sprinkling of frustration, but it only makes you cry harder, entire body trembling against him.

The other bed groans as Natsuo slides out of it, bare feet padding against the hardwood, your mattress dipping as he sits on the edge a moment later.

“Aw, poor baby,” Natsuo purrs, a soft, massive hand clamping down on your tense shoulder, thick fingers digging into your muscles. “Was last night too much for you, sweetheart?”

His voice is so patronizing, and you whimper a little against Touya, who kicks his younger brother’s thigh with his foot.

“Don’t be an asshole,”

“Says you,” Natsuo scoffs. “I’m being serious. It might be sub-drop,” The bed shifts again, and then kisses are being pressed to the column of your spine, down, down, down your back, words murmured sweetly into your skin. “I’m sorry, babygirl,”

“S’wasn’t too much f’me,” you mumble, heat seeping into your cheeks as both men laugh.

“Definitely sub-drop,” Touya says with a sigh, resting a large palm on your head. “I’ll run a bath,”

“I’ll make some tea and eggs,”

Peaking out from Touya’s shoulder, you watch as Natsuo heaves himself off the bed, snatching his shirt up from the floor and slipping it on before exiting your bedroom with nothing but his Frosty the Snowman briefs as bottoms.

Touya gently deposits you on the bed, slipping out from under you and shaking his head with a chuckle when you whine loudly, making little grabby hands for him, muttering Yup, definitely sub-drop under his breath.

Touya pulls on a pair of grey sweatpants and a nondescript black t-shirt over his head before he returns to the bed, laughing again at the involuntary pout set on your lips.

“C’mon, brat,” he murmurs affectionately, wrapping your naked, cum-stained body in the sheet before he hoists you up, carrying you across the hall to the bathroom and placing you on the counter, still swaddled up.  

“Bubbles?” You ask, voice small as he bends to start running the bath.

“I dunno if we have any, princess,” he says with a small frown as he turns back to face you, sapphire eyes scanning the washroom quickly.

It turns out you do, in a pink bottle with faded Disney princesses on the worn label, hidden behind half-finished cans of old hairspray and expired toothpaste, covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Very fitting,” Touya snorts.

It must be over ten years old, but that’s alright—bubble bath doesn’t expire, does it?

Touya pours a bit too much of the syrupy magenta substance under the running water, resulting in you being encased in a mountain of foamy suds that reek of artificial bubblegum.

“Y-You’re not coming?” You ask, a frown materializing on your face as you watch Touya turn off the tap, wiping some of the bubbles that cling to his arm on his thigh.

“No, baby,” he says softly, kneeling in front of the tub. He guesses your next question before your dazed mind can find the word. “Because niichan wouldn’t be able to resist fucking you if he did, and that’s not what you need right now,”

“I could handle it,” you grumble, and Touya laughs, eyes glittering.

“It isn’t a question of whether or not you can handle it, it’s a question of whether or not you need it,”

But even without him snuggled behind you it’s nice nonetheless, your niichan cleaning your body slowly, unhurriedly, dragging a rough cloth across your skin and lathering soap in little circles, cleaning the sweat that has dried sticky and salty on your neck and collarbone, then elbow-deep in the water as he gently pries your thighs apart, scrubbing away the dried cum. Soft, murmured affirmations spill from his lips as he works, praising you for being such a good girl last night, for being such a good girl as he washes you.

Good girl, very good girl, his good girl, his best girl.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Just past noon, Rei kicks you all out of the house.

“The Takasu Snow Park is open until four today,” she tells you curtly, practically shooing the five of you out of the cabin. “Don’t come back until it’s closed.”

She lets you take different cars, this time.

“And Touya, Shouto,” she calls from the doorway, lips pressed in a firm, thin line.

Both boys freeze at the sound of their names, hesitantly turning to meet their mother’s gaze.

“Don’t forget that you’re doing the dishes tonight,”

Shouto scoffs as he turns away, climbing into the back seat of Natsuo’s car, and Touya rolls his eyes, muttering something about being treated like a child, to which Fuyumi retorts that it’s only fair, considering the fact that he’s been acting like one.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The Takasu Snow Park is just under an hour from the cabin. It’s surprisingly busy for Christmas Eve, filled with high-pitched squeals of excitement and bubbles of laughter as children wrapped up in brightly coloured snowsuits waddle around with tubes in tow.

And Touya drives right past it.

“Niichan, I think you just—”

“We aren’t going tubing, baby,” he says nonchalantly, a wicked spark glinting in his eye as he glances over at you, lips tugging up into a crooked smirk at the way your head quirks cutely, shaking it a little to indicate that you don’t understand what he means. “Niichan would rather play with that pretty pussy of yours instead,”

And he does, finding a shaded little nook just off the main road, snow squeaking under rubber tires as he pulls into it, partially obscuring his car.

“C’mere, princess,” he breathes, patting a thigh. “Come play with your niichan,”

You scamper across the center console and crawl into his lap, thighs straddling him and giggling a little as his fingers inch up, up, up, until they’re pushing your white lacy panties to the side and gliding against your slit.

“Something funny, pretty girl?”

“No, niichan,” you gasp as a finger dips into you, curling as he drags it out and repeating the action a few more times before adding another, your head finding purchase on his shoulder.

Nimble fingers work slowly, lazily, messily, Touya’s free hand busy scrolling through missed text messages on his work phone as he lets you pathetically rut against his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, craning his neck a little and allowing you to trace along the brilliant ink that stains his skin with your tongue.

And it’s nice. It’s almost romantic in a sense, just the two of you silently enjoying each other’s company, the only noise your gentle little mewls and a howling gust of wind every once in a while. The countryside, draped with freshly fallen snow from the storm yesterday, glitters in the late afternoon sun, the cloudless sky as blue as Touya’s eyes. You sigh dreamily as you gaze up at it, basking in the feeling of your niichan’s fingers buried inside of you, stroking your silky walls intermittently, just the two of you in your own little world, protected from everything else by the Audi’s bulletproof glass.

“W-Wanna cockwarm you,” the words are mumbled against his neck sleepily, your eyes lidded and heavy, only half conscious and barely aware of what you’re saying.

But you can feel his cock, hard and hot through dark denim, and it makes your little hole clench, fluttering around nothing. “Jus wanna be full, wanna be close,”

Touya’s chuckling as he shifts a little, hands slipping between your bodies to unbuckle his belt. “That so, princess? Is my baby girl being a needy little slut?” And despite the degrading words used, his tone is warm, gentle and full of compassion. “Niichan will let you sit on his cock if that’s what you want,”

“Please,” you’re whining, pulling back to gaze at him with bleary eyes. “Please, please,”

“Alright, greedy little thing,” he hushes you like he’s calming a fussy baby, shucking his jeans down just enough to let his cock spring out, using his thumb to push it forward, presenting it to you.

“So pretty, niichan, so pretty,” you’re mumbling as a small hand wraps around the base, squirming a little in his lap and lifting yourself to hover over him, knees digging into the leather on either side of his hips.

He lets you do all of the work, merely watching you through hooded eyes, an odd little grin present on his face. Touya doesn’t normally allow you to cockwarm him, hates how goddamn teasing it usually is, but he figures that today we have time to kill, so why not?

“There you go, baby,” he murmurs as you sink down on him, a loud moan getting caught in your throat. “You feel better now, huh? You feel better now that niichan’s stuffing your little cunt full?”

A soft whine is all you can manage, nodding dumbly against his shoulder. Yes, yes, you feel better, you feel right, you feel complete.

And you can’t help but hump him a little, hips rocking against his in tiny, shallow motions, clit catching on his pubic bone with every push forward and drag back.

“Yeah, that’s it, princess,” he breathes, though his eyes are still focused on his phone, reading an article about a drug bust you’re sure his gang was a part of. “Use niichan to get yourself off, come on,”

He tells you to go slow, to be careful, cute pussy still sore from the abuse it suffered last night, and you obey, hips moving in unhurried motions, just enjoying the feeling of him being inside you, of him being this close, of how good it feels, sweet little whimpers of niichan, niichan, being huffed out against his neck.

It takes a good half hour of grinding before you’re finally creaming all over his cock, body trembling in his arms as he hushes you through it, whispering into your hair how good you are for him, one of his hands gripping your hips and forcing you to keep moving until your body collapses against his, boneless and pliant. Touya affords you a few moments to come down, cock still buried deep inside you, twitching as it patiently waits for your breathing to calm.

He isn’t gonna fuck you, he tells you as he shifts your limp body off of his cock, not with how you were feeling this morning. But he doesn’t think it’s very fair to make niichan suffer with such a hard cock, especially after he just let you cum all over it.

You don’t think it’s very fair, either, murmuring your agreement to him as your hand wraps around the shaft, his cock jumping at your touch.

It’s still so wet from all of your own juices, aiding your hand as it pumps him, hard and fast the way he likes it, obscene squelching echoing throughout the car.

Heat floods your cheeks while you watch your motions, stomach curling in on itself as his cock gleams with your slick, and it’s so hot, that’s so hot baby.

It doesn’t take long to have him panting out those gorgeous sounds, throaty moans and broken little whines, and you can tell he’s close when his hips begin to shift, thrusting into your fist. But you don’t want him making a mess all over his nice car, or his pretty sweater, leaning down to close your lips around the tip and suckle, tongue swiping across his slit as your hand works.

He whimpers out a curse before his hips stutter, thrusting his cock into your mouth as it paints your throat with spurts of burning cream. And you swallow it all, like the good little girl you are, looking up at him with sparkling eyes as you thank him for his cum, and God he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Christmas Eve dinner consists of a symphony of forks dragging across porcelain and spoons scraping against bowls. Rei tersely shoos everyone out of the kitchen the moment it’s over, brusquely ordering Touya and Shouto to get started on their chores.

The rest of the family shuffles into the living room, sitting stiffly on the couches, the television’s volume low as Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer plays on the screen.

Fuyumi tries to reason with her mother in a hushed urgent voice, tries to tell her that it’s a bad idea to leave the two of them alone, especially with Touya surrounded by so many objects that could potentially be used as weapons.

“They’re adults,” her mother responds, tone clipped. “And they aren’t alone,” grey eyes glance over at the kitchen, at her eldest and youngest standing together at the sink, frothy bubbles beginning to build as the tap runs. “I can see them perfectly fine from here.”

“Mom—” Natsuo begins, cutting himself off at the glare his mother shoots his way, swallowing his words and nodding instead. “—is right. Mom is right,” he looks over at his sister. “They’re fine, look at them,”

But his voice is high, thin, glassy, the words trembling ever so slightly as stone eyes dart towards his siblings, both with rigid shoulders, weighted with the thick tension suffocating the room.

“They should be fine,”

But it’s hard for you to watch, too much for you to watch, entire body consumed by sharp anxiety as you observe Touya’s stiff movements. His jaw is set, nostrils flaring as he glares down at the sink, frustration and anger and red-hot hatred beginning to ooze through his mask of passivity, to seep through the cracks Shouto’s dexterously created using hostile comments and snide glances as his tools.

And on Christmas Eve, that mask finally shatters.

Because Touya doesn’t have it in him to continue his act of indifference anymore, worn out and exhausted by the effort. Trembling hands pluck a spoon from the mountain of dishes sitting in the aluminum sink, wetting it with water and then laving over it with a soapy sponge.

He’s sure he’s coming down—even though it isn’t time yet, even though he knows, deep down, that the comedown is still a few hours away, even though he knows he knows his body better than this, has been swallowing oxys for so long that he’s got the comedown memorized, right down to the fucking second—but he swears he can feel it, can feel the migraine beginning to throb behind his eyes, can feel the cold sweat beginning to bead at his temples, can feel the chills beginning to course through his body despite how warm the cabin is, teeth grinding to keep from clattering.

The air stings his clenched teeth as he sucks in a breath, exhaling slowly, shakily, trying to force his mind to focus on the dish in his hand, on the warm water cascading over his skin, on the light scent of artificial lemon wafting from his sudsy skin. It’s fine, he’s fine, all he has to do is wash a few stupid dishes and then—

“Listen—”

“Shut the fuck up and scrub,”

“I just wanted to—”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Touya growls, gaze hyper-focused on the plate he’s been cleaning for over a minute now.

A lie. He has a lot to say to him, but he’d rather not make their mother cry, again, desperately hoping that Shouto will just shut his mouth and finish cleaning his side of the skin so they can get this fucking over with.

Shouto sighs, deep and patronizing, scoffing as his chest rises with the force of it.

“You’re impossible,” he grumbles. “Why can’t you—”

But then it’s all bubbling over, acidic words flowing from his mouth before he has a moment to consider what he’s saying. He wishes Shouto would’ve just left it, would’ve gritted his teeth like Touya and finished their chores silently instead of trying to play some fucking martyr, instead of trying to fix something that has always been broken.

“I heard what you said in that fucking washroom,” Touya cuts him off, eyes finally flashing to his face, jaw clenching twice as he glares at his baby brother. “Don’t you ever fill her head with that bullshit again, do you hear me?”

“She’s my step-sister, too,” Shouto shoots back, scrubbing turned needlessly aggressive, eyebrows set in a deep furrow as he glowers at the bowl in his hands.

“I don’t care,” Touya hisses. “Stay the hell away from her,”

Something massive, sharp and shiny catches his eye as he turns to deposit the clean dish on the drying rack, quivering hand hovering over it in hesitation. A butcher knife, gleaming in the dim, warm light of the kitchen, stuck halfway in the knife block.

Beside him, Shouto snorts, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust as he looks back to his hands, rinsing the bowl under a stream of hot water and placing it on the towel-covered counter.

“What? You gonna stab me? Really? In front of mom on Christmas Eve? Were the bloody nose and the black eye and the split lip not enough for you?”

No, of course not; it will never be enough for Touya.

“Why not?” Touya asks, voice calm, sounding almost serene, for the first time tonight. “It’s not like she’d miss you. I’m the one she took with her when she left, aren’t I? I think we both know that mom loves me more than she loves you—isn’t that right, scarface,”

And that—that has Shouto freezing mid motion, hand halting under the flowing tap water, half rinsed glass still in his grasp. It takes a moment for the words to sink in, Touya watching him almost lazily, that annoying indifferent smirk finally forming on his lips, achingly familiar.

Heterochromatic eyes glaze over and Shouto swallows roughly, jaw clenching twice as he turns towards his eldest brother, the glass clutched in his sudsy hand squeaking as his grip tightens. And for a moment, Touya thinks he’s won, breath bated as he waits for that first tear to escape, to roll down Shouto’s unblemished cheeks and fall crashing to the floor.

But then Shouto’s rolling his shoulders once, twice, puffing his chest out just a touch as he straightens to his full height, nearly a full inch taller that Touya, and exhales forcefully through his nose.

“Y’know, if you loved her—I mean, if you really loved her—you’d let her go,” His voice is sharp, clear, ringing throughout the kitchen, ringing throughout Touya’s head, bouncing off the walls in his mind and reverberating. “What you have, what you’re feeling, isn’t love—it’s obsession.”

That infamous smirk begins to fall, cobalt eyes narrowing at his baby brother’s words, breath beginning to quicken. Shouto sees it then—that final crack in the mask Touya’s so painstakingly crafted, in the mask Touya so expertly worn for so many years—and he strikes.

“It’s possession.”

No. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t need to hear this—it’s all lies, isn’t it? Touya tries to scoff, tries to roll his eyes and shake his head at such ridiculousness, but it feels like his body’s encased in ice, frozen straight to the core.

“It’s insecurity.”

Blood rushes in his ears, but it fails to drown out Shouto’s crisp voice, his words slicing straight through the white noise. Touya wants to tell him to stop, wants to tell him to shut the hell up, wants to silence him by driving that huge knife straight through his fucking chest, but his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth, refusing to obey his brain as it shouts at it to fight back, goddamn it!

“I meant what I said to her in that washroom,” his younger brother spits, words dripping with hostility as his eyes narrow, giving Touya a once-over like he’s the most pathetic thing Shouto has ever laid eyes on. “She does deserve so much better than you and you fucking know it, but you’re too selfish to let her go. That isn’t love.”

And it’s those final three words that finally have the mask breaking into tiny fragments and falling away, revealing glassy sapphires and a twitching nose, a trembling chin and a hard swallow. It’s those final three words that have it shattering concurrently with the glass in Shouto’s hand, shards clattering to the tiled floor, smashing into smaller pieces upon impact.

It catches Fuyumi’s attention first, who had been on edge and observing the pair sharply, body coiled and ready to spring at the slightest hint of danger.

“Shouto, your hand!” she cries as she leaps up, eyes wide and trained on the blood oozing from Shouto’s palm, rushing down his arm and dripping off his elbow.

But neither of them break their stare, Shouto entirely numb to the pain, Touya entirely suffocated by it, molars grinding together as he tries in vain to stop his chest from stuttering. It isn’t until Fuyumi grabs Shouto by the shoulders and forces him to face her that their gaze is broken, the youngest finally looking down to find his palm stained with viscous crimson.

Frantic sapphire eyes dart around the room, something akin to panic clawing at Touya’s chest, tearing him open from the inside out and making each breath more painful than the next. He needs to go, he needs to leave, he needs to get the hell out of this kitchen, out of this house, needs to, needs to, needs…

Feet stumble a little as he rushes up the stairs, catching himself on the railing twice as he ascends to the top. Someone calls his name, he thinks, but he can barely hear it over the intense ringing in his ears, his vision fading in and out of focus. The door to your shared bedroom slams open, brass knob whacking off the drywall and leaving an ugly little hole not unlike the larger one Shouto’s head left in the living room wall the day before.

Startled and gasping, your book falls from your hands and tumbles to the floor as Touya barrels through the threshold, making a beeline for the nondescript chest of wooden drawers tucked into the corner, yanking it open and beginning to riffle through the neatly folded clothing.

It sounds like he’s muttering something to himself, but you can’t discern what it is, heart beginning to thud against your ribcage. The tufts of hair at the back of his neck are coated in sweat, sticking to the skin, his breathing harsh and uneven as a curse hitches in his chest, rapidly moving onto the next drawer when whatever he’s looking for doesn’t turn up in the first.

A potent mix of adrenaline and dread floods your veins, and for a moment you’re frozen, little fingers curled so tightly in the sheets under you it’s painful, breathing stopped as you watch your niichan urgently rummage through the second drawer, his back beginning to hiccup.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what the hell is going on, unblinking eyes watching his motions in some sort of daze. For a moment, you’re terrified he might be overdosing, frantically searching for—for—you don’t even know, for some sort of antidote Natsuo might’ve given him, or something.

But then, he chokes out a pathetic little half-sob, trying in vain to swallow it back down akin to the first night you spent at the cabin, and then you’re leaping off the bed and rushing towards him in alarm, wrapping your arms around him tightly from behind, and he just…breaks. Collapses against the wooden chest hard enough to make the entire thing wobble, burying his head in his folded arms as his entire body shudders under the force of the sob that tears through his chest.

“Niichan!” you gasp, pawing at the front of his shirt, trying to make him move to face you. “Niichan, niichan, what is it? What’s wrong?” your own voice breaks with the threat of tears as you speak, heart racing in your chest.

He doesn’t respond, merely turns in your embrace and collapses on you instead, face buried in the crook of your neck as he weeps, big juddering breaths that have his entire back convulsing.

The action surprises you, a stark contrast from his stubborn resistance from the first night, but it worries you, too, such surrender uncharacteristic of him.

But your body’s running on autopilot, immediately petting his hair as your other arm tightens around his waist, clutching him. Soft hushes fall from your lips as you hold him, rocking your bodies slightly as you whisper into ivory tufts; it’s okay, you’re there, it’s alright, you’ve got him, you love him.

And the sob that rips from his throat as those last few words leave your lips is nothing short of vicious, has him coughing wetly into your neck and whining a little, large hands curling in the material of your dress as he tries to pull you closer, closer, closer.

“Baby, please, tell me what’s wrong,” you beg and your voice cracks, blinking hard against the tears flooding your own eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can help, please,”

He shakes his head, whimpering incoherently into your neck.

Can’t…Won’t…Pathetic…Disgusting…

“Please,” the word catches in your throat as tears finally escape your eyes, rolling down your cheeks in pairs. “Please, let me help, let me make you feel better,”

“I—I—I’m—” he tries, shaking his head again, but you urge him to continue, plead with him to try again. “Need to get out, n-need to—to make it stop,”

You aren’t sure what he means, but it doesn’t matter, body moving on pure instinct the moment the words are out of his mouth, little hand snatching the keys to the Audi off the surface of the dresser and dragging him along behind you.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The road is empty, silent, entirely barren as the Audi weaves through it, fat snowflakes beginning to drift down from the wispy clouds that decorate the night sky, taking turns blanketing the full moon and softening it’s beams of ivory light.

You don’t drive very far. You haven’t a clue where you’re going, but it doesn’t matter, frenetic eyes searching for the first little secluded clearing you can pull into.

Touya is unsettlingly quiet, save for his soft sniffles and the gentle rustling of his clothing as he uses a sleeve to wipe at his nose. Hiccups are still catching in his chest, but he’s trying his hardest to stop them, to quiet them, growling a little in pure frustration each time one escapes. Your stomach churns uneasily at his muteness—you wish he would just say something, glancing over at him worriedly with your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, his sapphire eyes destitute, bloodshot and glassy as they stare indigently at his knees.

The small village that the cliff overlooks emits a warm glow of golden light, hovering hazily over it like a halo. Christmas lights are strung up on a few of the cabins, little glowing dots of red and green and blue lining the roofs. A dusting of snow has begun to collect, like gingerbread houses sprinkled with icing sugar.

Touya is still silent when you cut the engine, stays silent when you turn to peer at him from your spot in the driver’s seat, stays silent when you place a dainty hand on his bicep, rubbing soothing circles into the clothed muscle and sighing.

“Niichan,”

Nothing.

“Niichan, look at me,”

Nothing.

“Touya-nii,” you murmur, kicking off your boots and climbing over the center console into his lap, his arms immediately opening to embrace you. “What’s going on?”

His gaze still avoids yours, despite the fact that his hands are curling around your body, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to make you wince, needing you close, closer. And his voice is so quiet, almost desolate as he answers.

“It’s nothing,”

Tender fingers tuck a tuft of alabaster behind his ear.

“It’s not nothing,”

“It doesn’t matter,”

Gentle lips place soft kisses along his jaw.

“It matters very much to me, niichan,”

“It’s—It’s stupid, fucking stupid,”

A small palm finds solace on his cheek, cupping it as a thumb strokes the skin.

“It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you, baby,”

Cobalt darts around the car, trying to look anywhere but at your face as sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip, an attempt to quell its quivering. A soft sigh leaves your lips as gentle hands cup his face, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Let me in,” you whisper, soft little thumbs caressing the ink under his eyes. “Let me help,”

Burning sapphire sears into your eyes, gaze penetrating and powerful as it shines with unshed tears, and you have to force yourself to not look away, to keep staring into those pools of gleaming blue, feeling as though you’re staring directly at the sun.

He doesn’t blink, but the tears collecting in his eyes become too many, too much, spilling over his lashline and cascading down inky cheeks, leaving little gleaming trails in their wake. He inhales deeply, holding the breath in his chest for a moment before exhaling slowly, the breath trembling.

“I don’t even know where to fucking start,”

And his voice is so low you nearly miss it, raw and hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“Take your time,” tiny fingers run through his hair again, his eyes closing with the motion, more tears dripping down his cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just…Tell me what’s bothering you,”

What is bothering him? It’s hard to say, not because it’s complicated, but because he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, doesn’t want to accept it, doesn’t want to admit that his baby brother’s words have affected him more than he ever thought they would.

If you really loved her…You’d let her go.

He does really love you, he wants to scream until his throat is sore, until his throat is bleeding, molars grinding at the thought of anyone thinking otherwise. He loves you so much, loves you too much, loves you more than he’s loved anything in his entire fucking life, he’s sure of it, positive of it.

He’s loved you since he first began stealing kisses from you, in the kitchen when mom wasn’t looking. He’s loved you since you tiptoed to his room, mumbling about a nightmare and seeking solace in his warm bed, in his warm arms. He’s loved you since you sobbed into his chest, that night you told him you wanted all of him, that night when he realized that you love him, too. He’s loved you since you let him permanently sear his name into your skin, branding you as his forever.

Yes, he’s possessive, and yes, he’s selfish, and yes, he can be a fucking asshole, but he does love you. Really loves you. He can barely remember his life without you in it, everything blurry and out of focus before you entered the frame. You’re all he’s got, all he’s ever had, all he ever wants, and the thought of you being unhappy, the thought of you wanting to leave, kills him, drives a large stake straight through his chest and clean out the other side, spearing him.

And yet, he fails to put any of these thoughts, running a mile a minute through his mind, into words. Patient as ever, you wait, petting his hair, planting kisses scattered across his face, tracing patterns on his skin as a war rages inside his head.

“I’m—It’s fucking pathetic,”

“It isn’t pathetic to be human, Touya,” you whisper sadly, little thumbs swiping across both cheeks. “You don’t have to keep it together every minute of every day,” you remind him gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’re allowed to be ‘weak’, too,”

He shakes his head, but refrains from arguing with you, because he can’t. Because he knows if he opens his mouth, if he tries to speak, he’ll start sobbing again. Sapphire tears away from your gaze, unable to hold your eyes anymore as his chin begins to quiver.

“I do really love you,” he whispers finally, head dropping, eyes squeezing shut against the prick of tears.

“I know you do, baby,” you say softly, fingers rubbing circles into his biceps, though he can hear the confusion laced in your voice.

“But do I—Do I des—”

He can’t. He can’t force those four simple little words out of his mouth, getting caught at the back of his throat, tangling into a giant ball that aches when he tries to swallow past it.

It’s starting again, that feeling from the kitchen, building in his torso, growing, stretching, higher and higher and higher until he can’t fucking breathe. A sharp gasp hitches painfully in his chest as he desperately tries to inhale, tries to suck an adequate amount of air into his lungs, coughing on the saliva pooling at the back of his throat.

“Do I—” the words escape his lips in a pitiful whine, voice cracking.

A sudden flash of blistering fury rips through his chest at his own cowardice. Disgust churns in his stomach, leaving a stinging bitterness lingering on his tongue, revolted at himself for getting so goddamn emotional over this, for letting Shouto’s words eat away at him, corrosive and parasitic as they take root in his brain, infecting his consciousness until it’s all he can fucking hear, think, see.

Tiny fingers find his face, hooking under his jaw and tilting it up, gently forcing him to look at you again. The pads of your fingertips dance along his skin, tracing along his jaw and then up his cheek to catch in the endless stream of tears.

You don’t say anything, because you don’t have to, tender little touches speaking volumes more than your words ever could, inspiring a bout of intense strength as he powers through the sentence, forcing the trembling words from his throat.

“Do I deserve you?”

And you’re so shocked by the question that your fingers halt, and his body stills, his breath stuttering in his throat, staring at you in an almost urgent manner, pleading with you to tell him the answer he’s so desperately seeking.

Salty water trickles over your thumbs, the sensation breaking you out of your reverie, response flowing from your mouth seamlessly, without a second thought.

“Of course you do,” your eyes search his face, studying his features slowly. “Where is this coming from?”

The question leaves your lips before you even know what you’re saying, but your voice is soft, kind, full of so much concern and affection as your fingers begin their ministrations again, tracing the ink decorating his cheeks.

He refuses to tell you, shakes his head as his lips press into a firm line, expression hardening. Blue fire ignites in his eyes, and you have your answer.

Shouto’s words from that first day in the washroom drift through your head, but you don’t press. Regardless of whether or not Touya had heard them on the twenty-first, it is fair to assume that Shouto must have said something along similar lines tonight, triggering this reaction.

Sighing, your expression softens, forehead falling forward to knock against his, hands still on either side of his face, keeping his gaze from escaping again as you speak.

“You—you’re sure?”

“Niichan, my niichan,” you murmur, pecking his lips in a chaste kiss. “That isn’t yours to decide, or Shouto’s to decide, or anyone’s to decide,” and your voice is so tender, filled with so much love as tiny fingers run through his hair, tension dissipating from his shoulders with each comb through. “It’s mine. And I’m telling you that you do deserve me,”

“Do I?” he chokes out brokenly, voice cracking and barely above a whisper. And the look on his face, azure eyes glazed with a thick shield of tears as they desperately search your face, chin trembling almost violently as he swallows a pitiful whine, pierces your heart; and you swear you can feel it shattering into a thousand little pieces, puncturing the surrounding organs and making your whole chest ache.

“Yes,” you whisper, tiny hands flexing on either side of his face as you grip him tighter, blinking rapidly to clear your own vision. “Yes,” you repeat, louder, stronger, fiercer, silencing whatever he was beginning to respond with by crushing your lips against his.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re murmuring between kisses, spit slicked lips sliding against his as he sobs into your mouth.

“I love you,” he mumbles against your lips, voice raspy with tears. “I love you, I love you,”

And, truly, you’re the only thing holding him together at this point—have been the only thing holding him together for a long time now. You’re the glue that keeps his life from falling apart, you’re the stitches that keep his very soul intact, sewing him back together each and every time he begins to unravel, keeping him complete, keeping him whole.

Fingernails dig into the skin of his cheek as you hold him in place, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and nibbling, relishing in the quiet, broken moan you pull from him. A little tongue laps at the salty tears staining his cheeks, licks along his jaw as his hands grip the meat of your ass, trying to pull you closer as he breathes out your name.

“I love you,” you whisper, words punctuated by kisses down the column of his neck. “So much,”

A whine gets stuck in his throat, head tilting to allow you more access to move as large hands paw at the hem of your dress, rucking it up around your waist. Something pokes you, prods you, pushes up into you through the thick, rough denim of his jeans, and you inhale sharply, instantly consumed by overwhelming need—the need to feel him, hot and pulsing and driving into you, the need to make him feel better, to make him forget, to remind him that you’re his, and he’s yours, the need to be claimed.

It hits your like a fucking freight train, burns through your veins and shoots straight to your core, sharp spikes of heat that have you huffing out his name.

“I need you,” the words are whimpered against inky skin as you grind desperately against his hard cock, clawing at his chest, his biceps, his belt. “Niichan, I need you,”

“Yeah, baby?” he pants into your mouth, hands kneading your nylon covered thighs as he presses his clothed cock against your core, forcing a mewl of his name from your throat.

“Yes,” you cry pathetically, and it’s almost too much, the scalding, throbbing heat collecting between your thighs, hips gyrating in quick little circles as you try to alleviate some of the tension coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, yes, need you t-to fuck me, to—” a sharp gasp cuts you off as he bites into your shoulder, growling darkly against your skin. “—To fill me up, to remind me who I belong to,”

Strong, lithe fingers tear into your thin tights, hooking into the holes they create and ripping the delicate material. Dark eyes flit down, rabidly scanning your clothed little cunt, white lace soaked and stuck to you, outlining your folds. Touya chuckles, delivering a superficial slap with the back of his hand before pushing your panties to the side.

Niichan, niichan, you’re whining out the honorific, fingers tangling in his sweater and tugging roughly as his digits caress your slit, urgently shaking your head.

His lips tug down. “Baby, you know I—”

“No!” you pout, eyebrows knitted together, Touya’s eyes flashing dangerously at being so rudely cut off. “I don’t want your fingers, they aren’t enough,” Because the need to be filled, to be stretched, to be owned is almost voracious now, desire clawing at the pit of your belly. “Mark me, claim me, breed me, I-I’m yours,” you’re wailing, cunt achingly empty, the pulsing in your clit nearly too much to take.

A snarl rumbles in his chest, large hand snaking around your bent leg, wedging between your thigh and calve and gripping the back of your knee, hitching the leg closest to the center console up in one swift movement and planting your foot on the console box, thighs stinging from the sudden stretch.

One of your hands latches onto the handle above the door while the other clutches his shoulder, nails digging into the muscles through the knit of his sweater while he fiddles with his belt, squirming a little and shoving his jeans down to his knees.

Not a second is wasted as the head of his cock nudges against your fluttering hole, and then he stills. He wants you to beg, needs to hear you beg, and so you do, high-pitched and whiny as your hips instinctually wiggle.

“Please, niichan, please! Want it, need it, need you,”

And then he’s shoving himself into you, a hiss slipping from between your teeth, familiar, welcomed tears springing into your eyes, a guttural groan catching in his throat.

It stretches, aches, stings so good, so right, so perfect as he bottoms out, pressed snugly against your cervix, and pauses for a moment, cock twitching inside of you, strong hands on your hips preventing them from rocking forward and forcing you to just feel him for a second, every inch of him, buried deep inside you. The sigh that falls from your lips is nothing short of dreamy, mumbling about feeling whole again, and he chuckles.

Yeah, that’s right, princess. Only niichan’s cock can fill you up like this.

His thrusts start gradual, fingers flexing on your hips as they dig into the sensitive flesh, forcing you to slide nearly all the way off his cock before pushing you back down, hips pressing up to meet yours, cockhead grinding against your cervix as he stuffs himself in your cunt, gaining a little more speed with each motion.

No one but niichan could ever make you feel like this.

The words are whimpered between fierce, messy kisses, between ravenous, devouring kisses, between the clacking of teeth and the slurping of tongues, glistening saliva, sticky and sweet and laced with the taste of blue fire and Marlboros dripping off your chin.

And he needs to hear it—needs to know that you belong to him and only him, needs to know that you want him and only him, needs to know that only he is deserving of you, worthy of you—so you tell him, in breathy little whines, that no, no one could ever make you feel this good; yes, niichan’s the only one that can fill you up this fully, this wholly, this rightly, eyes rolling back and sharp cries echoing through the car as he pounds into you, deep little grunts falling from his lips in time with each snap up of his hips.

“Tell niichan—ah, fuck—tell niichan how badly you need his cum,”

Senseless babbling flows freely from your lips the instant he asks for it, forever incapable of disobeying a direct order from him—please niichan, need your cum so bad, need to feel it in my belly, need to feel it in my brain, please, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me!

“Christ,” he chokes out, hips beginning to falter, muscles bulging and tensing as he forces you to keep bouncing on him, hard and fast and deep. “Cum with me, baby,” he nearly begs, voice more wrecked than you’ve ever heard it before, inspiring a whole flock of butterflies in your tummy. “Be a good girl and make a—make a mess all over niichan’s cock,”

And it’s the sense of desperateness, of urgency, of sheer neediness sown deep into his broken voice that has you spasming around him, that evokes an orgasm so intense it makes you choke on your own scream as it slashes through you, gurgling on spit and tears as violent tremors course through your body.

Hot, thick spurts of cum fill you, your name escaping his lips in a cracked whine, his hips continuing to lazily roll against yours as you milk him for every drop of cum he’s got, as you beg him for more, more, more.

Overwhelmed by emotion, you collapse against his heaving chest, hiccupping out pitiful little sobs between your harsh breathing, and he hushes you, fingers petting your sweaty hair as he murmurs against your scalp—shh, it’s alright, he’s here, he loves you, you’re his, and you did so well.

“Do you want to leave?” the question is uttered softly, after your breathing has calmed to tiny sniffles, voice so genuine it’s almost painful, curled up in his arms as your bare cunt presses against his pelvis, cum still leaking out of you. “Just say the word and we’ll go, baby,”

Swallowing thickly, he’s silent for a moment, considering. Patiently, you wait, nuzzling comfortingly against his neck and licking at the sweat pooled in the dip of his collarbone. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, laced with a hint of disbelief.

“Really?”

You pull back to gaze at him.

“Yes, really,” you whisper, catching a tear with the pad of your thumb and placing a soft kiss against his cheek. “You are more important to me than anyone else in that damn cabin by far, and I don’t care if it upsets them—if you want to leave, if you need to leave, we’ll leave. Say the word, and I’ll drive back, pack our shit, and we’ll be gone. You don’t even need to get out of the fucking car,”

Shining sapphire eyes study your face intently, searching for any sign of hesitancy, finding nothing but sincerity.  

“I love you so much,” he laughs wetly, more glistening tears escaping his eyes with the motion. “So fucking much,”

Tingling warmth blossoms in your chest at his words, at his laugh, conjuring a watery smile of your own as you pepper his face with kisses, soft lips ghosting across his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids and forehead until he becomes too impatient, large hands cupping your jaw and pressing your wandering lips against his.

Giggles erupt from your throat, and he’s sure that’s what liquid sunshine sounds like, allows the noise to wash over him, to bathe him in your everlasting light, to warm him to his very core. A little tongue darts out to lick teasingly along the seam of his lips, evoking an involuntary smile of his own before his tongue escapes to meet yours, another precious squeal of laughter echoing through the car.

Yes, he thinks, as your laughter vibrates against him, arms tightening around your waist as he cradles you against his chest. This is what love feels like.

[dilucbabe]

filthy

pairing: overhaul x fem!reader rating: m themes: priest kink, dubcon/noncon, emotional manipulation, spit kink, explicit sexual content, degradation, misogyny word count: 1.75k ao3 - request

His gloved fingers glide over your own, a smile adorning his lips. Funny, how such a simple gesture can mean so much to someone like Kai. It’s obviously no secret how uncomfortable he is with people showing their entitlement in thinking they’re allowed to come near his vicinity - to rub their filthy hands over him as if he merely stood on display. But it wasn’t just about the audacity that they showed with their thoughtless actions, far more, it was about the control that they took from him.

Kai is a man of action, a man of God. Someone who shows action and takes fate into his own hand, pulling it if needed. Not someone who lets things happen to him. He isn’t weak like that and he’d rather die than become so pathetic. His mission in life is to shield the weak ones from temptation and sin, to guide them to the right path, even if it means becoming forceful. Some might call him cruel, but truth be told, the perception of others is as important as the non-existent dirt under his fingernails. The only thing that truly matters that he obeyed the Allmighty, the church.

“Father?”, your voice is laced with sleep, eyes not yet open and Kai feels his heart stir at the sight alone. “Hmm, did something happen?” The innocence in the statement alone feels like pure gasoline to the flame that is his desire for you. Funny, how such a simple gesture can drive a man like Kai Chisaki to the brink of madness.

You’d come to the monastery on a rainy night, wet hair clinging to your frightened little face as you begged with utmost sincerity, “Please, father. I have nowhere to go. I- I need your guidance.”

You had practically breathed your plea, hands desperately clawing at your coat, the wet fabric doing nothing to shield you from the cold. If he were a different man, he would have felt his demeanour melt away, but he had remained strong. “Guidance, child?”

You cast your gaze away from him, shame bringing a pretty glow to your cheeks. “I’m a horrible woman. I-“, your bottom lip quivered, looking up at you with such over the top sorrow, it almost seemed comical. Almost. “I have seduced men without meaning to. I really didn’t, you have to believe me! Satan himself must reside within me!”

“First and foremost”, he had remained firm in his stance, albeit a bit more tense, though he couldn’t quite tell why. “There is nothing I have to do, aside from serving our Lord in Heaven. Not aid you, nor believe you.”

A high pitched squeal slipped past your chapped lips, clasping your hand over your mouth as though you had spoken out of turn. “I- Please-!”

“Still, you are in luck that God wouldn’t let me permit to turn my back on a poor sinner, so accepting of their own sins.”

It was, for the lack of a better word for it, thrilling to hear you beg like that, he remembers. It still is. Desperation and fear for condemnation – for punishment – has always been a big motivator for Kai. Instilling fear of what is good and righteous had always seemed like his one true calling, planting a seed of shame and guilt within people’s minds, to infest it and exorcise all evil from their very souls. A most gratifying experience he thanks the Lord every night in prayer.

Yet when it comes to you, he feels something stir inside of him. Maybe it is something akin to excitement, maybe it was hunger, maybe mere curiosity. Whatever it may be, he knows that it can only mean evil. What else could it be? You yourself have admitted upon being corrupted by the Devil, so he is but a man standing in the face of corruption.

Kai feels his pulse quicken, your legs spread open as though you are simply begging for him to be defiled by you. And who knows? Maybe you are. It wouldn’t be the first time, he’d caught your eyes taking his form with heaving bosom and wide eyes. Revolting slut that you are.

“Father?” He can see you trembling and he can feel himself swell with something akin to pride.

A cold smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, tugs at the corners of his lips, his hands now on your thighs, holding them in place. Even through his gloves, he can tell how warm you are to the touch – a temptation, if there ever was one. Though you might look the innocent maiden, he can see for what you truly are and maybe his purpose was to punish you for it, to set you right. Indeed, filling your hole with his seed might even cleanse you from all the filth of your very core.

God is on his side, he’s certain of it. He’d forgive his obedient servant’s sin if it meant saving a soul from the eternal flames of Satan. There simply is no other way.

Your eyes widen, any trace of exhaustion wiped clean from your face. “Please, no… I don’t want to-“

“Hush”, his fingers dig deep into your flesh, the promise of bruises blooming on your skin, making his cock stir. “You know that lying is a sin, don’t you? Let alone to a man of faith.”

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks at any moment, hands desperately clawing at the covers Kai’s sitting on, trying to cover yourself, to no avail. “P- Please…”

“I didn’t ask you to beg. I asked you a question and I expect an answer.” He’s wedging himself between your legs now, knees pressing them apart, while his hands easily get a hold of your wrists, holding them in place. How come your words express such dread, when your body is so easy – so willing – to get overpowered by him? Even if you don’t quite realize it yourself, your mind is clouded with lies and sin. “Let’s try this again”, he pauses. “You’re aware that lying to a man of faith in considered a sin, yes?”

A slow nod. “Yes, father.”

“And although you should know better, you still actively choose to disobey the word from our Lord, yes?”

“It’s not a lie!” Even though your whole body is violently trembling with pitiful sobs, Kai can’t quite help it, but be in awe of your form. You make such a perfect victim, he’s sure, any artist would compare you to the likes of Mary and Joan d’Arc – suffering for the greater good. Although, of course, he knows you better than to fall prey to your manipulation.

Pressing your balled up fists against his cock, he snarls in pure disdain, “Don’t play coy with me. Do you think I’m blind to your lust? Do you think yourself a victim to the attention of men you so desperately seek out?”

You flinch upon contact, though Kai notes, how you momentarily halt your wails, a faint squeal escaping you. He wonders, is that still part of the act that you’re trying to keep up or if you’re rightfully in stunned at the size of him. He grows harder just thinking about burying himself to the hilt inside your vile cunt. “N- no! Father, I never meant to- to-“

“For me to notice?”, he snaps and by the shock written all across your features he knows that he’s right. “You perverted whore.”

“It was never my intention to seduce you! I’m not lying! I swear, the Lord is my witness, I-“

Thwack. The sting on your cheek is relentless, but it’s a necessary evil. You have to learn how to behave, that there are consequences to your misdeeds, even if he has to beat it into you. “How dare you use the Lord’s name to spout all this nonsense”, it’s no question, but a statement. “I have no patience for whores with silver tongues.”

Kai leans over you, holding your wrists over your head, relishing in the sight of you being completely at his mercy. Your meek hiccups did nothing but spur him on even further, solidifying his decision in cleansing you free. “I’m so- sorry. You were so kind to me and took me under your wing when I needed help and- and I just…”

You squirm under his ever so watchful eyes. “Filthy thing”, his fingers enclose around your jaw, fingers forcing your lips to pucker open and spits. “To think giving you shelter would be enough was foolish of me, but we know better now, don’t we? You’re in need of drastic measures and it is me who has to whip you into shape. But fear not, I will not falter to bring you to the light side. I’ll fuck the virtue into you if I need to.”

It all happens so fast, you can barely keep up. One moment he hikes up the skirt of your frilly, little nightgown, chilly air hitting your exposed skin, the next he’s pumping his leaking cock right in front of your pussy lips. You try with all your strength – which admittedly, isn’t a lot – to get away from him, but he’s a strong man. And you should already know, shouldn’t you? Haven’t you spent night and night again, admiring his physique when he so graciously read the bible for you? Haven’t you fantasized about those very arms holding your naked body against his as he’d plunge into you in rapid speed? He’s right, you muse, you’re nothing but a common slut.

“God forgive me”, he groans and gets to work.

Funny, how such innocent glances can lead to such thorough punishment. Or was it redemption at last? You can’t tell anymore – too lost in the feelings of his palm, striking your thighs, face, tits; his hips clashing into your own with such force, it’s hard not to wince from pain; his stern look casting down at you and promising both salvation and damnation. Filthy thing, you repeat in your head, filthy, filthy, filthy. You should be grateful a man of God deems you worthy of his attention, let alone his cock.

Your insides are burning and your lungs feel like they might give out any minute, too exhausted from all the sobbing and crying, but Kai stays relentless. “Father, please”, you plead.

His response is sinister, but you know, a filthy thing like you deserves it. “Patience is a virtue”, he pants. “But what would you know about virtue?”

And he’s right.

[peterrparrkerr]

Oviposition - read on ao3

*-*

Tony waits until he's sure everyone is asleep before making his way to the lab. He's not been able to stop thinking about the arachnid since he'd arrived.

It had started out as curiosity -a boy more insect than human, with pitch black eyes and four extra legs sprouting from his spine. He was a character straight out of a comic book.

They were testing him -trying to see how it was he got to be what he is, and in that testing, Tony found things that only drew him in more.

Tony's team found out a lot in the few months they had him. His senses were all dialed to an eleven, so he could hear, smell and see things Tony couldn't. He could feel individual threads in almost every fabric offered to him, and could list every ingredient in his food with complete accuracy.

His eyes -though terrifying and demonic looking when the boy got upset- made him look almost cute when he tilted his head to the side.

Tony swiped his key card and pulled the door open when the little red light switched to green. The lab had an eery blue glow to it when the white florescent lights weren't on.

He makes his way on silent feet across the lab to the cell they had kept the boy in. He couldn't help it. There was no talking himself out of it.

He needed- he needed to see the boy.

They'd discovered something about their arachnid friend that had Tony aching for it. He hadn't herb able to sleep, too busy imagining it. Imagining his gut filled with the eggs the boy apparently carried instead of semen.

He stops at the cell door, peering inside. The ten by ten space is covered in webbing. Spun from the boy himself.

In the top right corner is a tunnel, big enough to crawl through and leading to what Tony can only assume is his nest.

They'd tested the webbing too, and Tony couldn't help but look at the webs in awe.

Tony takes a deep breath, then swipes his card.

There's a click, the red light flickers green, and then Tony's stepping inside. He makes sure to close it behind him, locking them both inside.

There's movement above him. Tony looks up, tracking the sounds as the boy moves from his spot in his webbed nest to the tunnel.

Tony barely makes out the shining eyes at the tunnel's entrance. They reflect the blue light terrifyingly.

"Hello, Peter," Tony greets softly, as to not spook the boy.

There's a second or two where the boy doesn't move, and then two spider legs emerge from the dark, gripping the wall and his webbing. Two more come out next, and then Peter is coming out, crawling across the wall like something out of the exorcist.

Tony had gotten used to it, but at night, it sets Tony's heart rate spiking and the hairs of his arms on end.

When Peter is close enough to the ground, he drops onto his feet. He's wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts -they couldn't get him into anything else.

Peter's extra limbs tuck themselves behind him, nearly making him look like a regular teenager.

"Tony," Peter greets, voice an odd inflection of boy and not-quite-human. It sends a shiver through Tony. His cock twitches in interest.

Tony doesn't know how to start. He just knows he wants. He wants to see his stomach bulge with Peter's seed, and he'll do anything to get it.

"You want something," the boy hummed, head tilted to the side. Perceptive little thing.

"Yes," Tony said, sounding breathless.

Peter straightens his head, peering up at Tony, blinking as he tries to figure it out. "What?"

Tony doesn't know how to say it. Doesn't know if Peter's human enough to realize how inappropriate this is. But Tony can't back down now. If he does, it'll drive him crazy.

So, instead of answering, Tony pulls his tank top off over his head, dropping it with the key card down onto the floor, just outside the cage.

Peter watches silently. Calculating.

Tony hooks his thumbs into the striped pajama pants and drops them to his ankles.

It must be the thing that cues Peter in, because suddenly, the boy is moving for him. Its fast -inhumanly so- and Tony doesn't have any time to react beside gasping.

Bare chests press together, and Peter's arms wrap around Tony, lifting him off the ground as those extra limbs lift them into the air.

Tony suddenly pictures himself in a webbed cocoon, waiting to be Peter's meal. Theres a reason Peter stays behind metal bars, and Tony suddenly wishes he had thought more with his head than his cock.

But then they're on the ceiling -Tony laying on Peter's chest, the boy holding them parallel to the ceiling.

"You want to mate?" Peter asks, looking at Tony with blinking, curious black eyes. Tony's surprised those four limbs have the strength to hold them both up. He refuses to look anywhere but at Peter -even if it is only a ten foot drop, he'd rather not fall.

"Yes," is what Tony says before he can stop himself. Something filters through Peter's features, and just as suddenly as Tony blinks, the boy has him turned over, so his back is pressed into Peter's chest.

Tony's breath hitches, feeling Peter's growing cock between his cheeks already, through the fabric of his shorts.

Peter crawls across the ceiling towards the tunnel, the two of them disappearing inside.

Tony's so hard it hurts. He allows Peter to manhandle him into the position of his choosing.

The webbing -although slightly sticky- is surprisingly soft and pliant to Tony's weight as Peter settles him onto his stomach, crawling over top of him, with two extra legs on either side.

"My mate," Peter hums lowly, nosing at Tony's spine. Tony can't do anything but nod, lifting his ass until its pushing against Peter's clothed crotch.

He gets his knees under him, rubbing himself against Peter, trying to get Peter in motion.

It works. The boy shoves his shorts down and kicks them to the side, adapting arms around Tony's waist and rutting into Tony's crack.

"Mine," Peter murmured against the skin of Tony's shoulder.

"Yours," Tony confirmed on a groan. He needs to be filled. Its almost agony not having Peter buried deep inside him. "Mate me, Peter."

And that's all the direction Peter needs.

Tony's suddenly glad he fucked himself on his fingers before coming here. There's no preparation as Peter presses into Tony.

Tony chokes on a cry as the mushroom head of Peter's cock pops in past his rim. Peter doesn't stop there though, he presses in until he's buried at the hilt.

"Oh God," Tony groaned. Peter keeps both arms around Tony's middle, keeping his hips in the air.

His extra legs allow Peter to hover over him as he begins to thrust in and out of Tony, hips snapping and balls slapping against Tony.

Tony can't help the punched out moans from falling from his mouth. Peter's much bigger than Tony expected, and he can feel everything.

"My mate," Peter gasped lowly, hips pistoning into Tony in a toe curling pace. He fights the urge to let his eyes roll back into his head at the constant pounding of his prostate.

"You want to carry my offspring?" Peter asked, mouth at Tony's ear. "Want to see you so full with them."

Tony groans at the thought and clenches around Peter, driving his own hips back to meet Peter's.

"Yes, God yes, please, fill me up til I'm bursting," Tony nearly begged, neglected cock drooling pre-cum at the thought.

Peter picks up the pace, assaulting Tony's asshole and prostate without mercy.

Tony can't help the onslaught of moans and whimpers and unintelligible mumbles that fall past his lips, chest dropping to the webbed flooring, hips rolling up to allow Peter deeper.

His breath hitches when he feels Peter climax. Its so much different than any orgasm Tony's felt before.

He feels the first egg pass from Peter, then the second. Each significant in size. Tony feels his cock throb painfully at the feeling.

"Yes, fill me up, God please!" Tony sobbed, rocking back onto Peter's cock.

The boy grunts, panting as he thrusts into Tony, emptying himself.

Its not long before Tony begins to feel full, his stomach tight, but not yet extended. He reaches a hand down, palm flat against his abdomen.

"More, keep going," Tony breathed, clenching around Peter, trying desperately to squeeze every last egg from Peter's sack.

"Going to be so full," Peter moaned, more eggs filling Tony up.

Tony feels his orgasm fast approaching as his stomach begins to bulge. Peter keeps going, keeps emptying himself deep inside Tony.

Tony whimpers at the feeling, the hand on his stomach moving to stroke at his cock. It only takes three passes before he's cumming with a reedy mewl, stomach still extending impossibly far.

"Gonna carry my babies," Peter grunted. Tears gather in Tony's eyes at the stretch in his abdomen. He feels ready to burst. It feels so fucking good.

Its almost too much for Tony, the extention of his belly stretching at his skin. It feels like he's being ripped apart from the inside.

And then Peter stills, gasping for breath. Tony chokes on air, trying to even his own breathing.

Peter pulls out, and Tony feels like he's gaping, cool air hitting his exposed asshole and making him shiver.

Peter manhandles Tony onto his back, hovering over him with those extra limbs. Tony can't help but look down at his stomach, raised and rounded with Peter's eggs.

His hands move to it, smoothing over the bump. His cock twitches at the idea.

Peter seems to be thinking the same, because he leans over, nosing at Tony's neck, his own hands pressing into Tony's extended stomach.

"So full," he hums. Tony hums in agreement, removing one hand from his belly in order to grab Peter by the jaw.

He doesn't know if Peter knows what a kiss is, but the need to taste Peter's tongue is too great to wait and explain.

He guides Peter's face up, then connects their lips. Peter's frozen for a moment, not sure. Tony licks inside his mouth, hands still on his belly.

"My mate," Peter repeated between kisses.

"Your mate," Tony agreed.

Tony walks with a hand under the slight bulge of his stomach, back to his room. He clenches to keep the eggs inside -wanting to feel them for as long as he can.

Tony's already set his mind on going back the following night, and every night for as long as he can.

[justanotherlifeff]

Quirkless

Warning: NSFW, Toxic Relationships, Underaged Bakugou and Reader, Reader has Insecurities, Angst with a happy ending.

Bakugou Katsuki was destined to be a great hero. That was a fact that he always knew ever since his quirk appeared. Yes, it was his quirk that made him so great. So much better than everyone else. Ofcourse people without a quirk couldn't even be compared to him, people like Deku or you. Which is why, when both you and Deku aimed to study at UA, he was furious. Deku was the fortunate one as he went through just some bullying as what you went through was much, much worse.

It wasn't your fault that you fell in love with him despite the way he belittled you. However, you blamed yourself for acting on it. It was a stupid and innocent plan really. You were going to give him some chocolates anonymously on valentine's day during your final year at junior high. However, it was Bakugou you were trying to give a gift to and hence, he caught you red handed.

 Your confidence was already broken into pieces by your family and ofcourse, by Bakugou himself due to being quirkless and hence, when he decided to degrade you once again and offer you to be his personal fucktoy, you agreed. Atleast the boy you were in love with noticed you right? Atleast you were good enough to be his right?

This so called relationship you had broke you even more. Bakugou only made you feel more inferior and unworthy every day and convinced you to not go to UA. Even though you got into the Business course of UA, you decided against joining the prestigious school just to make him happy. Even then, as soon as he moved to the dorms, he ended up leaving you, telling you that you did not deserve him.

Bakugou Katsuki was destined to be a great hero. However, he couldn’t change the fact that he spent half his life acting like a villain. He realized it once he found out the truth about Deku, once he finally started seeing Deku as an equal. Unfortunately, it was too late. When he finally realized that he wronged you and decided that he owed you an apology, it seemed as if you disappeared in thin air.

Years went by and no matter how much Bakugou searched for you, he found no sign. All he ever found out was that your parents died in a car crash and they were sinking in debt, which is why you lost your home and everything overnight. He checked the nearby homeless shelters and found out that at that time, all the shelters were full and so, everyone who tried to get in were turned away. As a helpless quirkless kid, there was no way that you survived. However, by that time, Bakugou grew a newfound obsession over you and refused to believe that you might be dead.

The press always questioned why the number 2 hero remained single even if any girl would die to be with him. That question always went unanswered as Bakugou either chose to ignore the question or yelled at the reporters like there’s no tomorrow. The answer to this was that Bakugou had fallen in love with you over time. Whether it was due to guilt or not, he did not know. All he knew was the fact that he could not see himself living his life with anyone else.

Normally, Bakugou’s life was a boring one. He would patrol all day, fight villains, come back home to work out at the gym room he had at his own house, cook dinner and breakfast for the next day, have dinner and fall asleep alone in his king size bed. The bakusquad always thought that his lifestyle was downright sad, which is why, Kirishima had finally convinced him to go to a stripclub.

Bakugou was nothing short of irritated when he entered the club, where random half naked women were dancing on poles. He had absolutely no interest in such activities but Kirishima and Kaminari, especially Kaminari were annoying him for months and he wanted them to shut their mouths. However, that changed very fast as soon as he heard an announcer say, “Now, our quirkless darling will be up on the stage! Please welcome (Stage/name)!”

Ever since his obsession with finding you began, he found himself turning his head as soon as the word quirkless got mentioned. Ofcourse, it always gave him a surge of false hope as he never found you. However, this time, things were different as he saw you go up on the stage with a skimpy outfit on. He recognized you immediately, you didn’t look too different from when you were a teenager.  Sure, you were more mature and your skin was full of marks... wait... were you being abused?

Kirishima noticed Bakugou’s shocked expression and it didn’t take him long to figure out that you were the (Y/N) who Bakugou had been looking for since his UA days. Just to be sure, he asked, “Bakugou, is that (Y/N)?” and as he feared, Bakugou ended up muttering an “yes”. “She takes clients for further ‘service’ after she’s done with her show. Do you want to book her? You can talk to her that way.” Kirishima advised his best friend. To that, Bakugou only asked, “How do I do that?”

Bakugou could barely breathe as he waited infront of your room. After taking a deep breathe, he got in, only to find you naked. “I’m surprised you chose me, Dynamight-san. You don’t seem to like weak people right? Choosing a quirkless like me, is this some kind of fetish of yours?” you chuckled, the venom in your voice apparent. “(Y/N), I just wanna talk.” Bakugou answered, looking at your eyes. 

It surprised you honestly. You always saw pure anger and disgust in his eyes even when you were kids. It surprised you to see that the explosive hero could have guilt in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like you...” you muttered, confused by the entire scenario. 

“I searched for you for years. I heard about your parents. What happened to you?” he asked quietly, surprising you even more. “I-I tried going to a homeless shelter nearby but everywhere was full. I had some money that I saved up so I moved to the nearby city and got into a shelter there. I got some part time jobs to pay for high school at first but then I still had trouble with money cause they paid too less. That’s when I met a guy who got me in here and I’ve been working here since. You pro heroes are perverted enough to have sex with a high school girl so here I am, making money and getting by somehow.” you chuckled dryly.

“I’m sorry.” you heard Bakugou mutter, which surprised you even more. “huh?” you asked, confused. “I wish I could’ve saved you. I’m sorry, (Y/N). About everything. About saying all those God awful things to you. About not being there when you needed me. Fuck I wish I could take it all back.. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).. Please let me make it up to you.” he said in a raspy tone. It was hard for you to believe that THE Bakugou Katsuki was apologising to you.

“You weren’t wrong though. I did end up being a fucktoy for you people with quirks. There really is no other place for a quirkless loser like me...” you were stopped by Bakugou yelling, “Shut the fuck up (Y/N)! I’ll make sure you get a different job! Hell, you can be my assistant at my agency! Or Deku’s Agency! Just let me help damnit!”

“Why are you doing this after all these years?” you asked, tearing up. “Cause I was wrong. Cause you were more than just a fucktoy. Cause my dumbass took too long to realize that I love you. You don’t have to accept my feelings, (Y/N). Just let me give you a better life. I just wanna make up for my mistakes. You deserve so much better than this. Please (Y/N).” Bakugou muttered in a raspy tone. 

At this point, you were sobbing. Not knowing what to do, Bakugou hugged your naked form. You were so small and defenseless. Back in the day, the fact that he could crush you boosted his ego. Right now, he just wanted to protect you from all harm that could come at your way. “I need you, Bakugou-kun... Please...” you whimpered, as you pressed yourself to his chest, shivering slightly. “Call me Katsuki.” he muttered before kissing you.

Everything was different this time. This time, he kissed away your tears instead of causing them. He held you tightly instead of not letting you touch him. He kissed your marks instead of causing them. His kisses were so soft that it made you melt as he slid his hand down to your crotch, rubbing your clit, making you moan in pleasure. he trailed his kisses down your body eventually and as he reached between your thighs, he inserted a finger in you as his lips sucked onto your small bud, making you moan out loud. 

It was amazing how good he was with his mouth as he used his tongue to tongue fuck you as soon as you orgasmed due to his ministrations with your clit. His fingers went back to massaging your clit, making you gush into his mouth. 

That’s when he finally put his condom on and positioned himself on your hole. It was almost unbelievable to you that this was the same person from back in junior high as this time, he hugged you tightly, his body completely engulfing yours as he pounded into you. He was so much bigger now and the way he was kissing your neck and whispering how good you felt and how sorry he was to your ear, you couldn’t help but cum all over his cock. However, he kept overstimulating you, making you cum once again before blowing his load in you.

You expected him to leave right after. You expected all of it to be a lie. However, you were completely wrong.

Bakugou Katsuki was destined to be a great hero. However, the day he truly became one was when he kept his promise and gave you the life you always dreamed of. He became a great hero when he made sure you knew that you were worthy of him and more.

The ask box is open!

[remember-to-be-gentle]

OH MY GOSH REQUESTS ARE OPENNN!!!!! Can I request something with Makoto Tachibana, Sousuke Yamazaki (or both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))completely OVERPOWERING the reader? The reader tries to struggle, but they grab her arms and push her against the wall? Or something like that? I love your writing and I’m so glad I got a chance to request!!!

Subject: Free!, Makoto Tachibana + Sousuke Yamazaki

TItle: Be A Man! (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, size difference, (male) virginity), humping, crying

As the co-manager of the Iwatobi Swim Club, you had a responsibility to schedule joint swim practices around the guys’ lives. Sousuke and Makoto had informed you of a schedule conflict and you’d agreed to meet them both after school in the club room. Thankfully it was Friday and no one would be hogging the room when you got there. 

Sousuke smiled. “Glad we could meet,” he said. He stood up ushered you in before walking past you to lock the club room door. “Now we should hurry up and get started.” 

You slid open the door and was greeted with Sousuke and Makoto sitting waiting. They both looked tense, tight, especially Makoto who wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Um,” you started, “hey guys.” They weren't normally like this, especially not Makoto. Maybe the schedule conflict was worse than you'd thought.

Probably didn’t want to be disturbed, you thought, especially since so many girls fawned over him when he came to visit the school. You nodded in agreement with his last statement and pulled out your pocket schedule. “Most of the other guys are free on the thirty-first, would that work for you?”

“Sure,” Sousuke said. You realized he was standing behind you, the heat of his body leaking into yours. “Whatever works. Now take off your clothes.” Before you could process what he said, Sousuke added, “Makoto, hurry up and help.” His hands were burning hot as they slid up your shirt and tugged it up and off, Makoto approached from the front and pulling your arms up to help Sousuke. Within minutes they’d either ripped or pulled your clothes off you, leaving you naked between them. 

“Wait,” you tried to back away but Sousuke’s solid frame met your back like a wall, “wait, whatever I did, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been pushing you guys in practice but that’s because the qualifiers for regionals are-.” 

Sousuke slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” he said, breath hot against the shell of your ear, “you didn’t do anything wrong. Its just time we knocked you down a peg so Makoto can go up one.” He pulled you down into his lap, sitting onto he floor and hooking his ankle under yours, spreading your legs wide. “Makoto, you remember what I told you about getting her wet?”

Makoto nodded, his face turning a subtle shade of red as he settled himself between your legs. “I’m sorry if it hurts,” he said, “I’ll try to be gentle.” He unbuckled his pants and pulled out his cock, the size enough to make you whimper. 

Sousuke shushed you, placing deceptively gentle kisses along your neck and keeping your arms pinned at your sides. “Just take it like a good girl.” 

Makoto ran his fingers over your slit, shuddering as he watched your walls twitch as if anticipating his cock. He moved to your clit, brushing it with the pad of his forefinger before pushing down, feeling it warm as it became swollen. “Fuck,” Makoto was breathing hard, “I want to put it in.” 

“Shit.” Sousuke gestured his head to the table. “Get the lube. We don’t have a lot of time.” 

Makoto quickly obliged, grabbing the bottle from the table and spreading it over his cock. He tried to swallow a whimper but you could hear it clearly. He gave himself an experimental pump, the lube making his cock shine. “I’m gonna put it in.” Your protests fell on deaf ears as Makoto pulled your legs further apart, lining himself up and pushing in. 

Your toes curled as you had no choice but to take him in, his girth stretching your walls until you were screaming. You were completely unprepared for his size, the lube only making it easy for him to push past your unprepared walls, rings of muscle far too taught for him to burst past them as quickly as he was. “Take it out,” you begged, pulling against Souske, “please, its too big, it hurts.” 

“I’m sorry,” Makoto whined, pushing himself further in, “I’m sorry I know its big, but you feel so good, I can’t...” He grit his teeth, a vein along his neck suddenly bulging and then his cock was too, growing before it seared your insides with his seed. He panted trying to catch his breath, the grip he had on your thighs bruising. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke said, his voice low and sharp, “fuck her or let me have my turn.” 

“Right,” Makoto nodded, “right.” He grabbed onto your hips and started pumping, his cock quickly growing hard. Makoto groaned, again abruptly stopping. He shivered and then pushed in until he couldn’t anymore. “Fuck, she’s so tight.” He tried to pull back shivered again and pushed back. “I can’t...” His hips bumped yours, Makoto pathetically humping your cunt as he came again inside you. 

Behind you, Sosuke groaned. “You’re pathetic.” 

Makoto slipped out, ashamed. 

You clawed at his hands, trying to pull him off, feel any sort of relief, but Sosuke’s grip only tightened. “Shh, I know its big,” he murmured in your ear, “but if you could take Makoto, you can take me, too.” When you still clawed and sobbed and thrashed in his grip he added, “Stop crying, you’re tightening up too much.” 

Your cunt didn’t stay empty long, Sousuke quickly working himself out and slipping his own cock inside you. Where Makoto was long and thick, Sousuke was thick and long. He stretched you worse than Makoto did, your abused cunt clamping down on him. You whimpered, trying to get away from him, and only managing to wedge him further inside you. Tears welled up in your eyes as uncontrollable sobs raked your body. Even if you unhooked your legs, you'd just be clamping down on him more and he hurt so much, even the thought of moving your lower body had you in anguish.

Makoto stared, green eyes glazed over, a trail of cum leading to his deflated cock. 

“Now watch,” Sousuke grunted, “what it looks like when a real man fucks a woman.” He gave you no time to adjust to his length, sliding almost all the way out before slamming back in. 

You squealed against the ruthlessness of his thrusts, your begging lost in moans and whines. Even if he hurt and fucked you roughly, you couldn’t deny that he felt good. There was almost nothing his girth didn’t reach, he made you achingly full with just his bucking hips, but when he pulled out to slam back in- You screamed, “Stop it, please, I want to go home!” 

“Aw,” Sousuke purred, “do you hear that? She wants to go home.” 

Makoto crawled forward, his length slowly hardening again. “You’re so cute.” 

“She is, isn’t she?” Sousuke bucked approvingly, chuckling when you started crying again. “God, we should have done this a long time ago. Maybe then you could last longer by now.” He didn’t let Makoto reply before he added, “Rub her clit, I want her squeezing me when I cum.” 

Meekly, Makoto obeyed, pressing his thumb into your swollen clit. Your toes curled and back arched, allowing Sousuke to dive deeper into your cunt. He groaned, feeling you envelop and tighten around him, each involuntary flex of muscle sending him closer to his edge. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Sousuke growled in your ear, “C’mon squeeze me as tight as your pathetic little cunt can.” 

No, you couldn’t cum, not like this and not on the dick of someone as awful as Souske. A weak protest left your mouth in a whine, “I d-don’t want to-.”

Sousuke laughed, his thrusts slowing. “Do you hear that, Makoto? She doesn’t want to cum." He chuckled, "As if she has a choice.” He started back up his rough rhythm, going faster than he had before, grunting and panting in your ear. “C’mon squeeze me already, I want to feel you milk my cock.” 

You screamed as you came, tears pouring down your cheeks as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body, making every muscle tighten and constrict. Sousuke seemed more than pleased with your response because his cock shot a thick load of cum inside you, adding to the mess Makoto had made earlier. 

Sousuke didn’t pull out. He let go of your legs, choosing instead to wrap his arms around your waist. “I wasn’t expecting you to be such a good lay,” he murmured sleepily against your throat, hot breath fanning over your skin, “but since you’re such a tight ass, I shouldn’t be surprised.” He looked over at Makoto and said, “Now that I’ve loosened her up, want to try again?”