#the jittering limbs...

[yourfavanxioussunshine]

istg if it wasn't for the sudden dizziness and jitters and excessive crying and constant nausea, i would've been unstoppable

[mars-ipan]

trying to let myself just be in this headspace but it is so uncomfortable

[viridescentelf]

Yandere elf x reader - Bath time :)

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Please check out her blog ✨ Another BIG thanks for creating him!

This is a follow-up to my last fic: if you want to read that one, click here. I'm not sure if I'll do another one, a bit out of ideas lol.

Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, explicit

—————

The water stung your damaged knee. Silas was preparing something in a wooden pail, humming some tune, while you sunk deeper into the hot spring. The water brushed your chin, as you glared at the back of the stupid elf’s head, bobbing back and forth as he dunked colorful fluids from flasks into the bucket. His long, luscious hair was levitating on the water's clear surface, covering his butt.

You were so close to freedom. He told you he’s enchanted the area now, stopping you from leaving entirely. No idea how that worked, but he showed you by pushing you gently against an invisible barrier. Your cheek had squished against the unseen partition, like when a human tests their cat’s intelligence against walls in those videos. “To protect you”, he explained in his sing-song trill.

If you hadn’t been injured, you would’ve made it. Away from this maniac.

“Look what Mama made!”

Silas held the bucket under your nose, smiling serenely. The liquid was a mix of pinkish goop and specks of sparkles. Your eyes lingered on the strange soup, then turned up to meet his excited face.

“What the fuck is this”, you mumbled crossly.

“No swearing, darling!” He patted your head. He didn’t know what the word “fuck” meant, but he read that it is bad for children to use. “It’s my healing salt! Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

Silas kept holding it under your nose. It did smell good, damn it.

“It will heal your poor leg. Plus, it makes everything feel a bit tingly. Healthy for cleaning up down there.” He gestured to his crotch.

Fuck.

Without warning, he dunked the solution into the bath. The mixture oozed slowly into the clear spring. The effect of it was almost instantaneous. You felt the biting pain ebb from your limb and you sighed in relief. Elf magic was so fascinating. If only Silas wasn’t such a freaking psycho. You would love to learn more about it. And then go back home and sleep in a bed without tits in your face.

He was right about the prickly sensation. You felt a warmth pulsate down there, as you absentmindedly sunk deeper into the water. Your gaze blurred and you felt the comfort of the heat engulf you.

Silas pulled you to him and placed you in his lap. His towering upper body remained out of the pool, the breezy touch of his skin a great juxtaposition to the searing heat of the water. To be fully engulfed, he would have had to spread himself across the whole spring, leaving no room for you.

You felt him grow below you. The effects of the water seemed to work on his form as well. His cheeks blushed.

“Be good, darling.” He breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s heal you completely.”

Your leg was fine. You didn’t need any more healing.

Silas’ lips brushed yours, his tongue slinking quickly and entangling in yours. The potion and his saliva were making you go crazy, your lap roaring with want. It was impossible to bottle up.

The potion made movement slow. You were attempting to push away with the last of your wits, but it came across as you gently pressing his chest together. He misunderstood and held your face up to his breasts.

“Drink up…”, he trebled, leading your mouth to his hard teat. It was hopeless.

Your wet lips traced around it and you felt the elf jitter under you with excitement. His hands were softly trailing down your back and took hold of your bottom, squeezing the soft tissue. The water delayed his movement, but you felt him lift you slightly, hovering dangerously above his throbbing shaft.

You could feel him against your entrance, nudging slightly. The heat consumed you, thrumming in the area, wanting. You released your lips from his chest, gazing dozily into his red face. If he was blushing more, you could not tell. He looked so enthralled; the big, dumb eyes full of devotion to you.

Silas crashed into your lips again, kissing desperately, lapping up every part of your mouth. The more saliva you exchanged, the more you felt yourself pulsate. The waves within you crashed, begging for relief. You tried to use your arms to push him off of you, but they felt so limp.

You hated this effect he had on you. You couldn’t stop yourself. This surge and needing the release - it drove you insane.

Floating above him in the spring, you felt him twitch there in unfair expectation. He was far too massive for you.

Silas wrapped one arm around your waist, pushing you closer into his body. Your breasts compressed against his and he moaned shakily at the sensation.

“Mama will heal you, dear…”, he huffed after releasing himself from your lips, with bits of drivel escaping his mouth. “I lov-“

You couldn’t take it anymore. You sat down on him, letting the beginning of him enter you with a strong jerk. He filled you up, with just so little of him inside. Your entire body shook from the flash.

Silas head knocked back; his eyes crossed as he let out the loudest yelp you had ever heard from him. He had never felt you like this before. He only dared milking himself in your sweet mouth, for fear of tearing you apart. But this… the feeling of your tight, velvety walls, the little he could feel of it was enough to make his world spin.

He instinctively grabbed your hips with a jolt and lifted you up and down on him. He wanted more of that sensation, more. More. More!

You were bouncing on top of him and felt every sinew explode with electricity. He bucked his hips slightly when you bobbed back down, but not too much in fear of breaking you, slowly deepening each thrust.

Although you could hear his pitiful “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s, your entire environment seemed to muffle. All you could feel was the inconsolable penetration. The way every jab made your groin burst into flames. The water splashed vigorously around you, as he guided your body into his. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. His head was still jerked back with his eyes in the back of his head, it seemed he was unable to do anything other than plunge halfway into you.

You couldn’t help but release low moans yourself, the note of your bellows making him tense up more. His large hands were clasping your ass, the flesh spilling out between his long fingers. You whimpered and let him consume you, every thrust splitting your walls further. The loud clapping of your bodies and the vigorous splashing, you were intoxicated. The sounds. The sensation. It was diabolical.  

You let out a string of deep moans, as you came, the wetness around his shaft increasing as you tightened your grip around him. Silas couldn’t hold it any longer, either, as he erupted within you, squealing from the overwhelming pleasure.

He spilled out of you. A puddle of white foam bubbled around you. Silas heaved loudly, blinking excessively and tilted his head back forward, staring dumbfoundedly at you.

He looked like you beat him up. Tears were escaping his rippling eyes, as a tiny sob hiccupped out of him.

Fucking baby.

“D-Do you feel better now? Have I healed you?”, he squeaked, pulling you into his arm cages again.

You rolled your eyes and nodded out of sheer vanquish. There was no point explaining to him that this wasn’t how you heal humans. There was no point explaining to him that mothers don't do this.

Silas kissed your head and swirled his hand in the water, making his semen drift away from you. “Oh…all the precious milk. Gone…”

He grabbed a sponge from behind him and started cleaning you feebly, his hands still shaking from the massive release. You saw a tear fall from his cheek. Without thinking, you brushed another one off his cheek.

He gaped at you after the gesture, pausing his scrubbing.

“O-oh darling. You really love me, don’t you? That’s why it felt so good…”, he smiled widely, more tears splashing out of his googly eyes.

You didn’t answer. You didn't know why you just did that.

Silas hugged you so tightly, you let out a wheeze.

“I love you too, my sweet!!” he squeaked and squished you more. “It’s getting late. We still need to have dinner! And you need a proper portion of milk!”

You closed your eyes, sighing.

Another milking session...

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 07

Ticci Toby x Female Reader - Clothed Sex/Forced Proximity

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Clothed sex, dry humping, biting, blood, panic attacks, rutting, grinding, forced proximity, claustrophobia

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.4k

A/N: This is by no means an accurate depiction of what a panic attack is actually like. Please do not take what I describe/write out as realistic.

“Is now a buh- bad time to tell you I’m clau- claustrophobic…?”

Toby was jittering, nails scratching the side of his neck so hard the skin was rubbed raw and nearly bleeding. You were holding his arms- trying to, as he shook something awful cramped against you.

“Hey, hey, shhh. You’re okay, man.”

You had seen one too many times what it looked like when Toby wound himself into a panic attack, the brunette spiraling so bad EJ had to administer some sedatives just to get him to sit down. He was nearly there now, eyes so bloodshot you wondered if he had popped a vein. 

Jeff, as bright as he is, thought it would be funny to lock you both in the mansion’s basement storage closet after you refused to do his chores. The killer knew you liked Toby, knew you had trusted him with that, but found it so hilarious to punish you both. You had beat on the door, and called his name, yet he was long gone upstairs. 

At first, you were angry, seething at him for forcing you into this position. But when the brunette’s awkward laughs turned into panicked tremors, that anger slowly dissipated.

“Toby- You have got to breathe.”

“Can’t- M’c-can’t-” Toby couldn’t feel as his fingernails broke the skin on his neck, droplets of blood trickling onto his jacket. You panicked, shuffling against the piles of junk as your back pressed against the grimy brick wall. The only source of light was a single dusty lightbulb overhead, the electricity nearly shot as it flickered and whirred above you. But through his mask and goggles ruffled into his hair, you could see Toby’s expressions clearly as he teetered on the verge of passing out.

You reached for the old door handle, rattling the knob and cursing when it refused to budge. Toby whined above you, his chest heaving against yours and cramping your further into the dark corner, neck jerking and grunting. You called out, hollering for Jeff or anybody that would listen, but were met with nothing but the brunette’s panic.

“Toby- Listen, man. You’re gonna have to calm down-” Cramming your hands up, you gripped his wrists, forcefully tugging his nails off of his wilted neck. The boy panted, his mask nearly choking him now from the lack of clear air he was getting. It was musty and damp in the small room, so his quick breaths didn’t help.

Shoving his hands away from yours, he began to grip at his mask, trying so desperately to remove the clunky thing. His hair was matted to his face, sweat dripping and cheeks flushed darker than you could really see. “Off- Get it off-” He cried.

You understood, trying to contort your body against his to push your hands behind his head and unclip the mask, shoving his goggles off as well. It was difficult with him twitching and heaving like a madman, forcefully shoving his body back against the bricks so you could get a hold on him.

Finally, you unclipped the straps, the metal clanging to the ground as he shoved it off of his face. His panting was even louder now, unobstructed breathing fogging against you as he began to scratch at his neck again. You cursed, even without his mask he still couldn’t relax.

His hands moved up towards his mouth, a sharp inhale before he scratched at the bandaged limbs and began to gnaw on his palms. You watched fearfully as the cloth covering old wounds tore and blood began to trickle down, the brunette completely unaware of just how much damage he was causing. He couldn’t feel any of it.

“Hey! Toby-” You both were grappling, straining against each other as you tried to pry Toby’s blood-worn hands away from his mouth, droplets of blood dripping down his chin. He resisted, his shaky hands fidgeting against yours when you finally shoved his face away, clasping your hands tight around his.

“[Y/N]... Please…” His voice was raspy, throat sore from heaving so hard. You tried to doorknob again, the rattling making Toby jump when you tried to force it open, but still no luck. You groan, throwing your hands around his shoulders and hauling him down to your height, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You had heard that panic attacks can be subsided if there’s a lack of stimulation- like forcing the brunette into the darkness of your forced hug.

What you didn’t expect was the lips that wrapped around the flesh of your neck and forcefully bit down. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but his teeth digging into the muscles running up your throat felt less than comfortable. Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to push him off, but his arms were already circling around your middle and hauling you impossibly closer. Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other tangling into his messy hair. His breathing was still heavy, but the sporadic groans and whines had subsided.

You hissed, the blood from his lips smearing onto the crook of your neck and dribbling down your shirt. His hands fisted the back of your shirt, tugging the fabric and pressing you firmly against him. Lips searing against your skin, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, so sweet and warm and comforting. 

You knew it wasn’t anything- just the shock from his panic attack shoving him into any comforting or relieving thing that he could get his hands on, it meant nothing. Until his breathing was steadying his shaking was evening out and his teeth let off to press warm kisses across the indented bite mark. You gasped, tightening your grasp on his hair as he moved down towards your shoulder, shoving the sleeve down to press another firm bite into the muscle. 

“Toby, stop-” But he wouldn’t- couldn’t now. It felt so good just being able to surround himself with your scent and warmth, blocking out just how manic he thought about the situation. He was terrified, but you wasted no time helping him, showing him you cared. He just couldn’t help himself. 

Mouth opening to bite down again, he drinks in your gasps as he slides his tongue across the mark. Your hands drag across his shoulders, bringing you closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying- almost as if it hurt to detach himself, drawn by that unfamiliar sense of want he usually didn’t experience.

“[Y/N]...”

Lost in the heat of the moment, Toby’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip, head practically spinning. Dragging you closer, you whine out when you feel his unknowing bulge press against your hip. Both of your cheeks are dark, sharp breathing and panting filling the quietness of the small room, the smallness becoming less and less prior.

At this point, Toby doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or his cock, throbbing and achingly needily. Pulling back, the boy admires your unfocused eyes and bruised neck, small hickeys and bite marks littering your flushed skin. Now, it’s no longer a need to relax himself- but a need to feel you. He had never really felt that way before with anyone, let alone you. But right now, eyes heavy and skin so deliciously coated with his taste- he doesn’t think he could resist.

Plunging himself back against your shoulder, he takes a hearty bite, snarling his teeth in. His fingers dig into your back, your whines so haphazard as you’re thrown around by his grasp, unable to actually resist even if you wanted to. Good thing you didn’t.

Because Toby was pushing his hands past your hips to hook under your thighs, lodging himself between your legs and holding you flush against that hard brick wall. The brunette can’t get enough of the way you sigh, and whine- the way you hum your approval like you can’t get enough. This is an indulgence that Toby never knew he really needed.

All fear of the cramped closed stiffened his panic flushes away, only the tantalizing feeling of his throbbing cock grinding desperately against your clothed cunt, riding himself against you. It pulls a deep groan from his throat, his teeth lodging on the opposite, less wilted, side of your neck and huffing his arousal against your skin. He bucks up into the warmth of your clit, your arousal snagging as he grinds against you.

“Fuck, Toby… Feels good… Mnn…” You tighten your legs around his hips, panting heavily as the heat of your bodies swirl, sweat building between you. Toby sucks your ear lobe and tickles a trail of soft, feather-light kisses down your neck. It makes your head fuzzy and body heavy, chills running all the way up your spine. Maybe you’re using this as an excuse to get closer to Toby, but when he pulls back as his lips are so swollen and cheeks are so red, you really can’t help yourself. Call it taking advantage of the situation, but you couldn’t really judge yourself when the boy was slowly grinding his cock against your clothed cunt.

You let your hands wrap tight around the back of his neck, holding him tight as he takes deep breaths against the underside of your jaw, moving his hips nice and slow. He ruffles your clothes, shoving your shirt up and pulling at your pants, the clothes becoming too much, but there’s really nothing he can do in a tight fit like this. 

So Toby huffs, lets off your neck, and forces his lips against yours- swallowing you in a heavy kiss. When you kiss, it’s deep, and it’s slow, but it’s hungry too. Your tongues chase each other alongside your hips; impossibly close and still too far apart. His whines are wonton and desperate as he bucks up against your heat, your cunt throbbing with every shove of his hips against yours. And he’s not the only one; your voice spills from deep in your throat with every roll of his hips, cunt swollen and practically dripping with arousal into your panties.

It’s so warm. You’re so warm- heat practically radiating from you. Pre leaks from Toby’s aching cock, chills running across his skin. His fingers press hard into the skin of your waist, thumbs digging into hip bones to keep that feeling close- like if he tries hard enough he can fuck you through the clothes.

“Hahh,” Toby pulls back to gasp, eyes closed, face pinched in pleasure. You can only stare, only pant tiredly as you watch him, tilt his head back, mouth dropped open on a moan, cock rutting up frantically. Your fingernails claw at the boy’s shoulders, and to him, it feels good, like a deep pressure without the pain. It feels like being wanted- being needed. It feels warm and good- and like he’s about to cum.

He squeezes your waist a little too hard, pushing you blunt against the nasty wall, desperate to be closer, hips bucking up and adding to the mess between you. Sweat drips from his nose, teeth gnashing so hard you’re afraid he’d chip a tooth if it weren’t for your shoulder going back between them. A deep pool of warmth and desire pools in your gut, hips angling slightly to catch just a little more of that sweet feeling.

He bites down hard, careless of the fact you squeal and writhe against him- it only feeds into the sensation of his hard length slotting so sloppily between your thighs. Blood trickles down your shoulder, staining your shirt terribly as your cunt aches, clit pulsing with desire for just a little more. He digs his fingers into your thighs, prying your legs further apart to give sharp thrusts up. You nearly drool as he huffs and groans against you, his strained voice singing beautifully how good he’s making you both feel.

“Need’a cum- go- gonna… Hah- [Y/N]-” Your hands tangle in Toby’s hair somewhere between his breath leaving his lungs and his eyes rolling back in his skull. They weave through damp curls and cradle his head in the crook of your neck, melting into a satiated, boneless tangle of limbs. It’s not another moment before the heavy pool in your gut crashes into you, hips jerking and strangled as Toby’s practically fuck up into the gush of your raw cunt. 

You gasp- and then you’re cumming hard- like you’ve never felt it in your life. Toby holds you tight, riding out his shaky high as his hips jerk and stutter and finally rest firm against yours. He cums in his boxers, staining the fabric as his cock swells and throbs against the constraint. It takes both of you a while to catch your breath, but Toby enjoys it. You find it hard to speak- or even recognize that you’ve both just nearly fucked each other. Only the two of you basking in the aftermath of your own pleasure.

Until you’re both jumping when you hear the doorknob shake and rattle, the door swinging open. Jeff stands with a disgusted face, mouth hanging open as he eyes you both pressed against each other, still heaving and riding out the trails of your arousal. He’s about to make some nasty remark and berate you both for the situation he put you in- and then Toby’s gripping the door handle and slamming it back shut, blocking Jeff out.

Back in the dusty, stale, closeness of the closet, Toby shoves his face back into your shoulder, kissing along the bruised skin. You want to apologize, to reprimand yourself for even letting this situation happen, but his hands are roaming again. Your feet wrap around his waist, holding him close as you feel his hips begin to move again, slow and steady, quiet hums vibrating against you.

Slowly, when your brains are a little less foggy, Toby shifts. He noses along your cheek and searches for your mouth until lips slot together once more, drinking up the other. This time, though, the noises you swallow are sweet, satisfied mewls of appreciation.

The brunette can’t think- won’t think about it. But something is gnawing at him at how easily you could settle him, how well you handled him.

He wants that again.

Now the closet isn’t suffocating anymore, the walls aren’t closing in on him, and driving him insane. Now- all he knows is that he wants to feel just how good you can make him feel again.

And again and again and again.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[bitchimasnake-sss]

This might be a little freak but zoro and law (you can throw Luffy in there but I wasn't sure) with a bondage kink please?

okay, okay, okay. first, nothing is too freaky in this household. second, YEAS! OMG GREAT IDEA. third of all, i'm gonna throw everyone in for the sake of it.

✿thinkin' bout: luffy, zoro, sanji, ace n' law! vs. tied up, oh no!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST OMGGG I LOVE THESE MEN. cw: nsfw includes: bondage [obviously], a lot of overstimulation, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation, using of toys, edging and denial, slight knife-kink [in law's], semi-public and slight voyeurism [in sanji's], loads of bondage, again [obviously.] MDNI. GO STUDY, GIRL. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: untamed beast!

❤️okay see, first of all, it was your fault you ever suggested this arrangement.

you were the fool that said, "hey, luff wanna try something new?" with that sadistic glint in your eyes; a fool that didn't yet know what was to come.

now, that something 'new' was you tied onto your bed. your arms burned at the slight stretch, throat parched and straining with breathy moans, toes involuntarily clenching as you tried to wriggle your way out of this overstimulated mess. because monkey d. luffy was relentless seeing your sprawled open like this.

his tongue peeked out, sultry muscle lapping up the sweet beads of your residue on his lips. his eyes was a clouded with lust, heavy-lidded as he met your gaze. your spent figure still jittered with aftershocks, courtesy of your nth orgasm at your boyfriend's cruel tongue.

"l-luffy," your lips wobbled pathetically, the bed-frame rattling ever so softly under your attempts to break free, "no... no more, please."

and maybe luffy did feel sorry for the mess he had made of you — all weak limbs and broken whines — because his eyes softened, lips pressed into a thin line as he pulled himself from his position at your overflowing core.

the back of his hand met his lips, smearing the mess against his lips rather than cleaning it up. "too much?" he asked, and you nodded, relieved.

because, of course, you knew that your captain was benevolent and merciful, your captain was a sweetheart who even let his enemies go when he had had his fun, your captain was— wait... he was hovering over you like he was ready to devour you.

"l-luffy?" your breath hitched and he shushed you, an easy smile plastered onto his rosy, kiss-bitten lips, "don' worry, peach. i won't break ya."

"wh-what?" your biceps flexed, a weak attempt to run away from the man above, from the man that had swore his life on your ruination. but luffy just grinned, hooking his index under your jaw to take a closer look at your disheveled state.

you shook your head, "luff, 'm t-tired. i—" his index finger swiped against your plush bottom lip, and your words melted against his digits. as he slipped his index past your lips, he shushed you, "don'tcha worry now."

once thorough with his examination, once re-assured that your eyes were brimmed with unresolved tears, your lips were trembling and your cunt was fluttering with unyielding anticipation, monkey d. luffy pulled his wet fingers out of your lips just to pull your cheeks into a pout. laughing at your expression, at your wide eyes, he rasped, "c'mon, baby. i'll take care of you and this pretty, little pussy."

oh no.

🍀roronoa zoro: accidental discoveries!

💚roronoa zoro was a teeny-tiny bit slow. he was sure of it. because after being with you for years, how did he just now discover this sight?

your back was against the wooden backrest of the creaking chair in zoro's room. your arms hanging free over the arm-rest, and your thighs wide apart, spread over the armrest. the fat and skin of your plush thighs reddened under the swordsman's trustworthy black bandana as your peered up at him, all while his hungry gaze was trained on your saccharine sweet cunt.

"h-having fun, are you?" breath stuttered out of your rosy lips so pathetically, chest falling up and down in a heavenly falsetto as roronoa zoro trained his predator's gaze upon you. his cheeks were flushed, an unmistakable smirk on his lips, "hm. didn't know winnin' a bet will feel so good."

ah yes, the bet. the accursed bet which had landed you in this position.

you had been naive enough to bring up the "variety of ways in which his bandana could be used." and then proceeded to bet him that whoever lost the pillow fight will have to be experimented upon. yes, that bet.

"'nuff stalling." the moss-head crossed his leg over the other, leaning back leisurely in his own chair right opposite to yours. he grinned like a predator, "go on, then. put on a show f'me."

you did as you were asked; you put up a show.

his hungry eyes followed your nimble fingers as they ran their course over your goose-bumpish skin so softly. the finger-tip ghosted over your lips and over your perked nipples, down your stomach and hovered over the spread-open, gushing core.

the swordsman swallowed, the adam's apple bobbing in wicked anticipation as you touched yourself. your familiar finger-tips traced patterns against your throbbing clit as your back arched against the cold wood. teasing your entrance, you bit your lip, teasing the swordsman, "liking the view?"

his answer was just a pained grunt. the moss-head was rendered useless. his sharp tongue all tied up, all jumbled as he looked at the view of your pleasuring yourself.

you threw your head back, letting out sinful moans as your own fingers slipped past your leaky entrance. the room sounded of wet squelches, of experienced digits slipping in and out, and of anything and everything remotely you.

the swordsman leaned forward, his hands clasping shut as his gaze zeroed in at your trembling, tied thighs. when he spoke, his words were barely restrained; a beast hidden within the skin of a mere mortal, "go faster."

you complied, digits pulling and pushing at a quicker pace all in an effort to push yourself over the edge. your lips parted, eyes clenched shut and for a moment all you could feel was the rhythmic motion of your fingers within yourself, "oh my god. fuc— im gonna cum."

and then, all of that heavenly bliss came to a cruel halt.

your eyes fluttered open, pupils blown as you looked at the rough hand tugging on your wrist. "zo-zoro?"

your breath hitched at the man on his knees. his crazed eyes barely held your gaze, his lips parted in anticipation as he pulled your soaked fingers to his mouth, "you tease too much, woman."

you purred, "do i?" and his calloused palms dug into your thighs, leaving reddened patches on your tied limbs as he husked out a reply, "and ya talk too much. shut up, and let me."

okay, then.

🌊vinsmoke sanji: now serving: subs in the kitchen!

💙vinsmoke sanji was a pervert by nature.

you knew that since the day you joined the crew and the cook greeted you with honeyed words and heart-eyes instead of a simple "hello, how are ya? my name is..." and you have known that since you both started dating but now, in a situation like this... my oh my, this man was devil-incarnated.

"atleast close the door, sanji." you hissed, eyes widening as you looked at the unlocked entrance to the kitchen. but the blonde just purred, pressing his weight to your back and breathing in the intoxicating smell of your shampoo, "mon amore, we're all alone."

his experienced hands kneaded your waist, expert hips rutting onto your ass as if it was muscle memory. you arched into him instinctively, words growing feeble under his soft caresses, "bu-but someone can come in."

the cook laughed, the sound so breathy against the shell of your ears, "let them, then."

you threw a glance back at the chef, looking as he loosened his tie and softly pulled your wrists together to tie them behind your back. the satin tightened against your soft skin and you fell forward onto the kitchen island to stabilize yourself.

"sa-" you tried but the blonde cut you off, shushing you so softly. hooking one finger in the knot he had tied, he pushed you down with the same hand, "shh, it's okay, love."

minutes has slipped just as easily as his leaky tip past your sodden, sloppy folds. sanji grunt, heaving — no longer a gentleman. his hand pushed down on your wrist, pinning you under him and that wretched, cold countertop as he kept rutting into you.

your cheek dug against the marble, lips falling agape at his rough administrations, "s-sanji."

"what?" the way he rasped the word out, you felt like maybe the man behind you was already betting his sanity on your sweet cunt. he repeated, something urgent in his syllables, "w-what is it, love?"

another harsh roll of his hips against yours, and his tip rammed against the all-too-gooey spot within you. you gasped, eyes clenching shut and toes curling. as if to soothe your body, sanji held you tighter under his grip, "are you gonna cum, gorgeous?"

thoughts long gone, you nodded just to nodded — still squirming so pathetically under his heavier figure. you pulled at your wrist, trying to break free from him and this overstimulating, vexing mess.

sanji laughed at your futile efforts, "reachin' your limits?"

"sanji—" you whined, thighs clenching and unclenching yet again under his erratic movements. moans tumbled past your lips, some half-formed words that resembled his name and echoes of a plea for mercy.

sanji stilled for just a moment, admiring the mess he had created under his hold. from your stuttered breathing, to your pitched moans and reddened skin — god, you were beautiful.

sanji pressed open-mouthed kissed down your shoulders, words following soon after like a crash, "s, so fuckin' beautiful."

and so, he just gotta make sure to appreciate this beauty, doesn't he? that's the gentlemanly thing to do.

❤️‍🔥portgas d. ace: a man, a man, a mean fucking man!

🧡your pulled your wrist downwards, and your bedframe rattled ever so softly under the careful actions. your face scrunched up, eyes faltering to quite meet the gaze of the man in front of you.

"i-is this necessary..?"

"hm?" ace gave a smile, something a bit crooked, something roguish, "you said you wanted to try it, didn't ya?"

"i-" your brows furrowed, teeth sinking in your inner cheek at his inspection, "i just said i read it in a book. i never said i wanted to try it—"

"tough luck." ace inched forward, muscled body shifting to bring the familiar toy and pressing it to your fluttering, divining cunt. ace grinned as your body jolted against the foreign vibrations, "like it?"

"n-no?" but the way your back arched, chest invitingly moving up and down made ace categorize you as a liar.

bringing one warm palm up to your breast, he softly tugged at the perked nipple as another sent shockwave one after the other to your drenched cunt.

slipping the pulsating toy within your heat, ace watched on with delight as his pretty, pretty girlfriend fell pray to the expert flicks of his wrist and the vibrator he had brought you a few days ago.

"ace—" your eyes widened as the man pressed open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. still pumping the toy in 'n out of you like always, ace kissed your neglected clit — an action so chaste yet it pulled out filthy, little noises past your lips.

"pretty?" ace fluttered his eyelashes up at you, and through you half-lidded, shaky vision, you asked, "y-yeah?"

"can you do me a favour?" ace pressed a sweet kiss to your honeyed cunt, giving a soft lick to your swollen nub as if it would make you comply, "when you're about to cum, count from five f'me, yeah?"

with your body on fire and thoughts consumed by some 6'1" man, you nodded — unknown to just how cruel the infamous fire-fist can be.

"five, four... th-three—" your body brewed up a violent storm and your head spun with his hot, sultry tongue on your cunt and the fast push and pull of the vibrator within you. your words stuttered, the crescendo building up just to... end?

the man pulled out the toy out of your spasming cunt at once, abandoning your swollen cunt with a feral grin. tears pricked at your lashline at his administrations, "wh-why'd you stop?"

"sorry, baby." ace cooed, teasing your leaky entrance yet again with the same toy that had been taken away from you. he smiled, "sorry. let's start again, okay?"

but something about the look in his eyes made a violent goosebump paint your pliant body. your eyes widened, half-fear, half... excitement? ace gave you an easy-going smile, nudging his nose against your throbbing nub, "go again, baby."

you swallowed, "o-okay."

after the third time of edging, your body was no longer in your control. your vision was blurred with unresolved tears, not even able to see the man that was torturing you.

hiccupping, you choked on your own words, "p-please, ace. 'm gonna be s'good. i p-promise, please please—"

"—awh, don't cry." ace pressed his lips into a thin line, "i won't tease anymore."

what a fucking liar.

pressing the buzzing toy up and down your cunt, ace nodded, the same feral smile plastered onto his hungry, wet lips. your boyfriend mumbled, "yeah, i definitely like this. don't you, baby?"

what a fucking man.

🪻trafalgar d. water law: a cure for disobedience!

💜 this was straight out of a porno.

"law." and you couldn't help the slight shift in your tone, hands flexing and unflexing as law fixed you on his inspection table.

"stop squirming." his words were a sharp command, eyes barely taking in your naked figure as if you being naked on his inspection table was the least interesting thing in the world, "i'm doing this because you wanted it."

he mumbled under his breath, "impromptu medical check-up, my ass."

but the obvious bulge in his pants said otherwise.

sure, you were the one who had asked him to "do an impromptu medical checkup" and then proceeded to strip down. but it was him who had decided to tie you down to punish you for your little stunt. he said that you were disrespecting doctors, and he can't have that, can he?

your body moved instinctively, jittering against the cold, and law gave you a look that would hypothetically slice you into tiny, little pieces if it could. his voice stayed cool, though, "one more movement and you'll really piss me off."

despite his serious words, and even more serious looks, your thighs clenched together in wicked excitement. the skin rubbed together, essence beading at the prospect this situation would lead to. you bit your lip, "'m sorry."

"okay, then." law huffed, looking at you over the metallic rim of his glasses, "ready?"

you nodded, and the captain of your ship brought a scalpel to your face. his hands shook as he picked the instrument up — was he excited or about to lose his mind?

the same instrument that he used to cut open skin now traced the edge of your jaw with it's blunt side. he brought it down your neck, purposefully dragging the tip of his instrument to tease your pert nipple.

"l-law, 's cold." your back arched slightly, limbs being constricted from moving too much. the doctor raised a careful eyebrow at your action, amused by how easy it was to hold your malleable body back. dragging the scalpel to the other one, and hissing when you jolted under his precise touches, "don't move, or do you wanna get hurt?"

and maybe law needed to be checked mentally cause the idea of you completely under his control sent electricity down his throbbing cock. tip weeping and aching with need, he realized he could turn the scalpel around and tear your soft skin. but instead, he chose to drag the metal down the middle of your stomach. he traced it against your forced open, inner thighs and law's eyes alit with the same sadistic glint as you throbbed under the cold touches.

he brought a rubber-clad hand up to your heat, softly pressing down on your ambrosial cunt. law's jaw tightened as you threw your head sideway, honeydew dripping down from your perfect pussy down to his freakishly clean inspection table.

"don't drip down onto my inspection table, now." the doctor mumbled, but even he knew it were a lie because he went harder against your sensitive cunt, wanting for it to weep all over his rubber-clad fingers. he fastened his pace, pressing the scalpel against your skin with each careful swipe. "you love being disrespectful to my profession, don't you?"

"oh my fuckin'— god." your jaw sagged open, eyes clenching shut as he teased a finger up and down your cunt.

"do you not know i have an oath to upkeep?" he tsked, "i gotta take care of all my patients. so, tell me..." his voice roughened, "d'you like this?"

and law wasn't sure if he meant the scalpel against your skin, or his fingers dipping within your velvety hole, or if he meant to ask the question to himself and not you.

"just please, please keep g-oing." you nodded feverishly, huffs pouring out erratically as he traced the scalpel all across your body, one hand still kneading against the pliable folds. your restrained muscles spasmed, the cold metal still dragging across your sensitive body as he pulled out an orgasm out of you.

the nectar pooled down your fluttering folds and onto his table, and yet law couldn't care more about the code of conduct or his doctor's oath. looking at your ruination, the doctor grinned — his professionalism long gone by.

when you looked at your doctor, he looked crazed. and when he spoke, it was a simple instruction, "i think i should conduct a thorough medical check-up."

of course, that's what you were here for, right?

a/n: in my regularly posting era till the end of this month cause i wanna pump out as many fics before the new year ahahaha anyways, missed writing for my boys sm :')) alsooo, if you think one is longer than the other, shh it's not, you didn't see that [im inconsistent]. hope this was nice, hope you had your fun ya nasties :// reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated! m.list

[cosycafune]

ENGRAVED VIRGIN!

usually, king sukuna treats you with dearest respect, but after you plotted against him, a barely restrained thread of his snaps. who are you to recklessly defy him, especially after he’s given you everything? therefore, he has to teach your virgin self a lesson.

synopsis of acts: breasts slapping, wounding, creampie, virginity loss, degrading, size different, sadism, clit slapping, humiliation, getting caught, breeding kink, threats of pregnancy, mouth being stuffed with panties, light bondage, crying, sensitivity, rough sex, bleeding after sex, and angst. not proofread.

— ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 —

“Repeat what you said, brat,” Lord Sukuna orders with an impenetrable amount of revulsion.

“‘K-Kuna! I didn’t mean it—”

Smack.

Incapable of stopping your lulling head, tears brim within your glassy eyes at Sukuna spanking your tingly breasts. Even while the thickness of his angry cock kisses your clit, Lord Sukuna casts his insatiable crimson eyes upon your weeping frame.

If you had sealed your lips, while he planned the death of a so-called traitor, you wouldn’t have discovered yourself so degraded. Degraded, tied, loosely gagged with your balled up underwear, littered with scratch marks and welled up pain within your aching limbs.

Everything within you was terrified, unsure of whether you were going to be able to handle Sukuna’s fullness. After all, you had never bedded a man before — simply remaining oblivious until Lord Sukuna captured you within this given moment.

“You brought this on yourself, you ungrateful girl,” Sukuna lowly spits out, applying an ample slap upon your cunt. Your cunt before your nimble body recoils, your eyes jittering whilst your throbbing worsens.

“N-No!” Whining with insubordination, you carefully writhe around — attempting to push your supple thighs together.

“You’d think I’d let you and your pure self go? I want to ruin you,” Enthralled, Sukuna’s cunning eyes twist with his impatient, reckless and womanising preaching.

“Y-You’ll break me, Ryo,” Muttering for dear life, you observe Lord Sukuna’s lustful yet pensive gaze.

“You’re not a mere weakling, my cock will not break you,” Cockily, Sukuna informs you.

Gasping, your body’s decency collapses the moment Sukuna’s swiftly pushes his needy cock tip against your barely visible cunt. The unfathomable tension completely ripped at your resolve, especially as just Sukuna’s tip left you feeling incredibly nauseous — plunged with the unfamiliar sensation.

Sukuna’s bound to mark you, reform you and restructure you. You knew this the moment you were swayed into serving beneath him, by another legendary jujutsu sorcerer — and you reluctantly agreed. Inevitably, drawn by complex fate, you ponder on the concept of being sexually dominated by a man who’s defined as a murderer.

“I-It hurts!” Wailing, your breaths shorten as Lord Sukuna burrows himself painfully further within you. Within you as your eyes swell with tears, your soppy cunt incapable of handling his log of a cock.

His cock is monstrous, inhumane and far from tedious.

“You’ll take it!” Lord Sukuna’s sharp fingers burrow within your nimble thighs, subconsciously drawing blood as you writhe around, “How dare you be ungrateful, after everything I did for you.”

“Ryo—”

“This is the least you could do for me, letting me engrave you,” Sukuna unleashes his cunning proposal, his sculpted hips forcing more of his monstrous cock in your overwhelmed cunt.

“N-Never had cock before, Ryo,” Sobbing, completely light-headed and vaginally moulded, your pleading eyes greet the stoic dominance within his reigning own.

“You have now, so you can learn to handle the pain,” In disbelief, your lips widen as your moan of aching rips through the distorted ambience.

“H-How can you be so heartless?” Hiccuping with worded grief, subtle softness overtakes Lord Sukuna — pushing him into pinning a squirming you down.

“Did you not tell my maid that you wanted to leave?” Sukuna questions with ample grunts, experimentally bucking his carved hips within you.

Pulverised, you’re left breathless — your lung capacity dimmed at Sukuna’s extreme deepness within you. Everything within you feared this extent of his consensual cruelty, particularly with his threatening stomach bulge fitted so closely besides your ready-to-be-breed womb.

“Because you’re cruel!” Loathing Lord Sukuna’s lack of empathy and selflessness, you spew your words as Sukuna gifts you a gentle kiss.

Your first kiss, and a kiss that contrasts his harsh demeanour and being.

“You knew that, but you still stayed,” Attentive, Sukuna counters your point. Counters your point while he silently questions if you’re ready to move, only to take notice of your obsolete yes.

“Look at you now—” Cock-stuffed, your mind blanks the moment Sukuna performs his inhuman thrusts. Thrusts that kiss upon your brutalised walls, leaving you to choke out moans with a cursing Lord Sukuna.

“H-Hurts s-so good! Ah! Yes!” Reciting mewls of incomprehensible pleasure, your eyes roll back harder at Sukuna smacking his hips against the base of your overwhelmed cunt.

“If I ruin you like this, you’re going to always come back to me,” Sukuna hums through his lewd whimpers and groans, yearning for you to hear his passively whimper.

“It isn’t care if you want to ruin me for you,” Yelling in pain, you struggle to breathe with Sukuna further burrowing the pattern of his nails into your roughened up hips.

“I’ll impregnate you, just so your ex-virgin self can have something more worthy than your stupid escape plan,” Sukuna plants himself into exclaiming, roughly slapping your clammed nipple — in hopes of crushing your inexperienced self.

“You’re not making it out of these bondage ropes,” Angrily speaking, Sukuna shoves your underwear further into your mouth — gleefully slapping your ample, jiggly boobs.

“Mhm! Ah!” Moaning against your will, exhaustion tints you as Lord Sukuna wraps his hands around your throat — pounding into your adjusting cunt with an inhumane nature.

“I don’t care if you’re a good jujutsu sorcerer, you’re never leaving this place,” Harshening his thrusts, Sukuna maniacally glances down at your disheartened eyes.

“Whatever I want, I get it,” Sukuna motions to you, glancing down at your soppy cunt creaming against his thick cock.

Just the way the fatness of it made you look puny imposed happiness over him. In this moment, he rules you with his massive cock — it’s largeness barely contained in your cunt. But even so, Sukuna looking down at your cunt, watching you take him in so good made him know that you’re engraved by him.

“Dwfm!” Unplugging your succulent lips, Sukuna grants you the will to speak, “D-Did I just—”

“You came even though you know you can’t do anything before me, therefore I have to cum in you and teach you a lesson,” Sukuna grunts out with an animalistic nature, pounding into you as if his reign upon his kingdom is reliant on your warm, pulsating cunt being submissive by letting him fill your womb with his royal seed.

“S-So fast!” At your scarcely phrased pleasure and cries of virgin discomfort, your fingers itch for Sukuna to at least come to a somewhat stop. However, your gentle fingers are weakened by his extremely powerful thrusts that consistently form a dangerous bulge in your toned stomach.

“You won’t be a soldier anymore, I’ll use you till the point I get you so pregnant and swole, you’ll be too busy caring for our young kin to ever leave.” Warm and conflicted at Sukuna’s truthful plan, you feel him eradicate your cunt and structure it so it obeyed him in the way your mouth wouldn’t.

“S-So…selfish!” Turned on by your tears of sadness, betrayal, Sukuna’s sadistic persona displays itself. Sukuna continues to demolish your Mac and cheese imitating cunt, listening to the extremely loud squelching that your male colleagues could hear.

“All your stupid colleagues are out there, listening to their grand knight getting fucked by the merciless king that they all complain about!” Sukuna chuckles at embarrassment consumes a breathless, squelching and a freely mewling you.

“This pussy’s to die for!” Bellowing, Sukuna heightens your mortification. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning and grunting with unrelenting noise, with you, Sukuna slams thick cock against your cunt, his pace so superhuman pieces of the bed begin to cave in.

“Yes! Yes! Ah! Mhm! Hot!” Pleading through mindless moans, your breathing and lightheadedness exceed you with Sukuna thrusting to the point his thick, heavy balls beat against the bottom of your soppy cunt.

“I’m going to cum all inside of you and call the grand knights in here to see how you’re engraved,” Sukuna excitingly says, pressing on your neck while he burrows his deepest — a faint, dirty moan flees your parted lips.

“Ryo’, mhm! Ahhh!” Clouded, your bratty voice completely floods the room — contorting the duality of your usual self.

“I’m going to mould you into what I want,” Pussy-whipped, Sukuna’s groggy statement is contrasted by his energetic cock straining before filling your unused womb with the thick portion of his cum.

The king’s load.

“N-No,” Unwilling to serve as nothing but Sukuna’s cock reliever, you gasp with him pulling out of you. Pulling out of you before an accidental load of his lands upon your rising abdomen, in between your perky breasts and face.

“Defiled, you’re better,” Sukuna speaks in a stern voice, using a small fraction of his cursed technique to open the door — revealing a singular knight of your own.

“N-No way!” The knight mutters and faints, leaving you to shift your head to the side with the embarrassment Lord Sukuna’s putting you through.

You were known as a virgin, so being taken by someone so evil struck something within them.

“You’re bleeding, but it’s better that I got to you first instead of another man,” Sukuna retorts, basking in the chaos of you hyperventilating at the blood that entwines with his cum trickling out of your cunt.

“I’m sore, and it hurts,” Unable to move, feeling your lower region throbbing and weirdly swollen, Sukuna’s eyes simply darken at the whiny innocence of you.

“That’s your punishment, so say fairwell to your grand knight position soon,” Degrading you, Sukuna chuckles — gleeful with the intimate art he had structured.

“I’ll end everything before I have your child out of spite, Ryomen Sukuna,” Spitting it out, you roll your eyes at the lack of empathy he holds towards you once being a virgin at just nineteen.

More by more, Lord Sukuna knew he was going to break you and engrave you with nothing more than him and his cum.

Engraved.

do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platform. everything here is written by me, so all rights are reserved. cosycafune, 2024.

[jamminvroomvroom]

something in the orange.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando can’t always have what he wants. and neither can you.

i’m so back! missed u xoxo i kinda hate this with a passion but i had to force myself to write something bc i was getting the writers jitters lmao. pls tell me what you think and what you want next! hugs

inspired by: something in the orange by zach bryan (ouch)

songs to set the mood: call out my name by the weeknd, all of evermore actually, leave the door open by the silk sonic

warnings: 18+!! minors, BEGONE!! smut, angst, wee bits of fluff, language, alcohol mentions, inappropriate workplace relationship (reader is an engineer @ mcl), slight age gap (r is older), mutual pining, mutual denial (kinda), unprotected sex (L bozo)

3.2k words

the first time it happens doesn’t really count.

you’re drunk and lando’s worse. tensions boil over at some after party, neither of you can bare it, and he’s shoving his key card into the slot of his door while he sloppily kisses your neck. you cannot take

any responsibility for your actions that night and disregard it as a write off.

explaining away the morning after, when you fuck him again, sober and begging, is a different story.

oh, well.

it happens again. and again, and again, and again.

different cities set the mood and the danger turns you on. you trade your mclaren administrated work shirt for lingerie, and your inhibitions for good sex.

he’s younger, just a couple of years between you, but he doesn’t show it. he makes you forget it, every single time he rearranges your spread limbs on a mattress. he makes you forget his age, and the fact that careers will be over as soon as another soul finds out what you get up to when the chequered flag falls.

lando makes it easy. a flick of the wrist and a curl of the tongue makes you sob, and he smirks into the crease of your thighs every time. and when it’s over, and you’re both spent under linen sheets, you can’t even regret it. not when he makes you laugh until you cry and keeps you warm as you drift off to sleep on the rare occasions that you let yourself stay.

it can’t continue. it can’t, you tell him and yourself. every morning after is punctuated with promises that this is the end. and every time, you manage without each other until the next race weekend, when he looks at you in that knowing way that makes your thighs clench.

-

lando can’t think straight.

he never can when he slides between your thighs. it feels like home.

you’re somewhere in the middle east, he can’t actually remember where right now, not when he pushes deeper and you clamp down around his cock, so hard that he chokes out a shaky breath.

“how do you feel even better every time?” lando groans, grinding into you nice and slow.

you slur out a moan in response, tipping your head back even further as you do. it gives him the perfect opportunity to burrow into your neck, kiss over your collarbone, rock into you harder.

everything is warm, slick. this whole situation, it’s a well oiled machine now. lando sends a text and you turn up five minutes later. he ushers you into the room and then, clothes leave a trail from the door to the foot of the bed. what was once a place holder, a way to get some after a shitty race, had become something to look forward to, something that made his heart race. the anticipation, the danger of you made him weaker than he ever had been.

at first, he hated the hold you had on him. it didn’t mean that he could end this, though, not when he couldn’t help but stare at you in the garage. not when he was transfixed by the glimpse he’d get of your collarbone under your work blouse, or the stray hairs that fell over your face when you were concentrating on the data screens.

“lando, i need- i need…” you gasp, trailing off as you arch even further into his sweat glistening body.

lando smirks, sliding a hand down your

body, pinching your nipple on the way. he already knows what you need. he finds your clit, teasing over it a couple of times.

you lock eyes, warning him to give you what you want. he just grins, licks his lips and continues faint glides over the bud. it sends shockwaves over your body, and you convulse underneath him. you writhe, and writhe, and whimper and keen as your orgasm washes over you. his eyes snap shut, barrelling into you as the pleasure hits.

then, there’s silence.

he lays on top of you while you both return to planet earth, no sound but pants of breath and a soft hum from you when he finally pulls out. you smile softly when you rise from the bed, swinging your shaky legs over the side to stand.

“you staying?” lando breathes. he’s laying on his front, arms flexed as they cross beneath his head.

“not tonight, lando.” you tilt your head apologetically, voice soft and sweet. he frowns. you ignore it, and search for you underwear.

“come on, stay.” he sounds desperate to his own ears, cringing at the way the words come across, but your filter it out. you’ve become an expert at navigating - and more often than not, ignoring - the emotional strings that he tugs on. the ones that attach to your cold, cold heart.

“can’t. you’re gonna have the team here bright and early. ‘m not risking jon seeing me here when he comes to wake you up.” you explain, jumping into your jeans as you tug them up your legs.

“he won’t care.” lando argues, childlike in his negotiating.

“i care.” you scold. you hear the soft thud of his head hitting the pillows. you know you’ve won this round.

lando’s quiet for a while after that, letting you dress yourself. as you’re searching for the bag that you can’t remember if you brought or not, he springs from the bed, making a beeline for the door. you think he’s being gentlemanly, but quickly realise you’re being foolish. the fucker is blocking your exit.

“lando.” you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms, unimpressed.

“i know, i know, i’m gonna let you go. i just…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pondering his next words.

“you just…” you usher him along.

“i’ll let you go if you promise to have dinner with me over the summer.” he smirks.

“are you… have you lost the plot?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

he tried this, sometimes, tried to get you to go on a date, or get you to do something alone that didn’t involve engineering or a surface that you could fuck on. you’d naively thought he was past this.

“can we just try?” he gives you a look somewhere between i want you so bad and the infamous lando norris puppy dog eyes. lava heats your cheeks and your belly, and the butterflies come out of hibernation. you couldn’t deny, you wanted to try. but, at what cost?

“text me.” you murmur, gesturing for him to move.

“so, that’s a yes?” lando questions.

“text me, and i’ll think about it.”

he decides that he’s gotten the best possible answer out of you, and finally let’s you make your great escape.

you almost collapse on jelly-like knees the second the door shuts behind you. standing your ground with him was getting too difficult, too tiresome. the boy was hard fucking work, and he always got what he wanted.

you’d often daydreamed about him taking you out, getting dressed up nice to sip wine and eat too expensive food, and eventually getting undressed. you realised, however, that those kinds of thoughts were to be banished, after you got caught up in fantasies during a race and almost had the pit crew put mediums on during a bout of rain.

wanting him was dangerous. it could be career ending, reputation destroying, heartbreaking.

one date wouldn’t hurt, just to satisfy his appetite. he’d probably get bored eventually. you wouldn’t let it get further than one meal, one last night with him, and then it would stop.

one more time. just one.

-

you’re waiting on your sofa for the text that tells you he’s arrived.

your hair is curled, messy. just how he likes it. you’re wearing something short and black. your high heel taps against the floor as you bounce your leg nervously.

he’d texted, just like you’d told him to, and then a date was set. just one dinner, one time only. you were gonna tell him that, too.

it’s a bit of fun, you think. dinner and shag. companionship. it was lonely on the road, and sometimes each other was all you could have. it made sense, you figured, that he had honed in on you. you’d done the same to him.

just when you think he’s late, there’s a knock on your door. you were an expecting an “i’m here” text, not the full package. after all, this date was just a formality, right?

you try not to shake as you make your way to the door. lando looks so good that you almost cave and say, “sure, let’s give this a go, eh?”. he’s wearing a shirt that fits painfully well, clinging nicely to a delectable frame. the buttons he’s left undone provide a gorgeous window to his collarbone and the necklaces that hang from his thick neck.

“you look beautiful.” he compliments, rakes his eyes over your body.

“don’t look so bad yourself.” you try to tease but it comes out flustered. you ignore the way his eyes light up.

“you ready?” he asks, you nod.

your heart flutters when he effortlessly takes your hand in his.

-

the restaurant is in the middle of nowhere, and you’re the only two people dining. maybe it’s because of the ‘closed’ sign that gets placed on the door when you arrive. so, he’s gone all out, you think. you’re shocked at how hard he’s tried to keep this private. maybe this isn’t the formality you think it is, maybe this isn’t his way of feeling better about meaningless sex. maybe it wasn’t as meaningless as you pretended it was.

he had you belly laughing within minutes, laying the charm on thick. wine and conversation flowed effortlessly and you were quickly regretting saying yes to this. you were in danger.

in a moment of silence, you catch his eye from across the table.

“you know, this is a one time thing, right?” you almost whisper. you almost kick yourself, why would you say that now? it doesn’t even phase him.

“that’s what you think.” he grins, devilish and stunning.

“i mean it.” you smirk.

“sure you do, honey.” he says, it sounds a lot like ‘game on’.

-

you stir, eyes slowly fluttering open. orange light washes over you, dancing in the pair of eyes you find staring back at you.

the eyes watching you sleep belong to the same person whose strong arms are wrapped around you, nice and secure.

you croak out a good morning, and he grins at how hoarse you sound. it was all his fault for making you whimper and scream, begging and crying for a release.

the date had gone really well.

“coffee?” lando offers.

“just the one, need to get home.” you bring things back to reality.

two coffees and four orgasms later, you head home.

-

the blurry pictures of you and him leaving the restaurant make you ill.

no one can quite tell it’s you, not yet anyway. twitter is ablaze.

faceless accounts call the blurry woman in the pictures the cruelest of names. you cry for hours, and then you stop for a bit, cry some more. rinse, repeat.

you pull on a jacket, scramble for your car keys. this time, you’ll mean what you say.

-

there’s a knock on the door.

when he opens it, you shuffle inside like you always do, coat hangs on the hook with a scarf to match. silence lingers until you reach the kitchen. the kettle hisses. you didn’t even know that he knew how to use one.

“this has to stop.” you say. emotionless. inside, agony sinks into every emotional cut and scrape. you don’t let him notice.

“i know.” he agrees. he’s seen the pictures, too. “okay.”

the kettle is forgotten, two mugs abandoned; he carries you to bed.

one last time.

-

two fingers loosen you up for him, drawing you steadily over the edge. he doesn’t stop there, no. he slows right down, letting you ride out your high, but only for a second. he speeds up once again, grinding his fingers into you at godspeed, and you feel your eyes dampen with tears.

your entire body glistens with sweat and your release, the overstimulation making your toes curl and your back arch. you wonder if the tears streaming down your face are just a result of the way his fingers are curling so deliciously against your walls, so good that it hurts, or if it’s because you know this will be the last time he gets his hands all over you.

“lando,” you cry, grasping at nothing. he’s got you naked in the middle of his bed, and he’s still fully clothed, kneeling between your spread thighs like a man on a mission.

his motivation is to make you stay, to make you regret the fact that once this is over, you’re choosing not to come back. his need for you, that raging desire that fuels your every encounter, it has only increased tenfold since the night of your date. but lando isn’t stupid, he knows that after those photos were published the brakes were on this… thing. this was his only chance to convince you to keep this going, but he was fighting a losing battle.

“what do you want, honey? you want me?” lando grunts, speeding up even more. you didn’t think that what he was doing was humanly possible, but the stars you saw and the way your body was practically levitating off the bed said otherwise.

“only gonna have me one last time? is that really what you want, baby?” he continues to run his mouth, crooning over you. you call out his name, begging. begging for another release, begging that you could stay here forever. with him.

and then you see white and god, and you convulse until you’re collapsing into the mattress. your vision is blurry from the tears and the haze and the unwavering emotional torment.

you grab at him, languidly pulling him in. it takes all the strength you have left to secure him, your feet shoving his jeans down his hips while your hands rip his t-shirt off. you’re keening, too sensitive and too needy. you’re agonising over his touch, you need him to sink so deeply into you, so that you can feel him when it’s over and you’re far away from what almost feels like home.

his breath shakes and his eyes gloss over when he pushes into you.

“let me stay like this, just for a minute.” he chokes out. you nod rapidly, your eyes squeezing shut. he kisses into the crook of your neck, panting and mumbling sweet, painful words over and over.

your hands run over golden planes of warmth and muscle, memorising every dip and crease of him. he slowly rolls his hips and your belly clenches, veins set alight. one of his hands scoop up up your wrist, and the motion creates a deep grind unlike anything you’ve ever felt. your wrists are pinned above your head and lando hovers over you so that he stays level, continuing that slow grind, hips hitting yours hard and slow.

he draws a low whine from the back of your throat, one that makes his hips stutter and your pussy clamp down on him as a pleasurable result. you can feel fingerprints forming around the tender skin of your wrists and you want him to dig in harder, slip into your veins and become a permanent part of you.

lando’s eyes are greyer than you’ve ever seen them, boring into your own. you don’t think you ever break eye contact, staring deep into his soul as he stretches every possible part of you. he doesn’t want this to end, you can’t pretend that you do, either.

he changes his angle slightly, long strokes replacing the short drags, but he keeps hitting deep. something possesses you to lean in, as much as you can given his hold on you, and you capture his lips in a kiss that takes him aback for a second. he melts into it, though, and then you’re chest to chest. tongues meet, and moans meld, your legs snake around him like vines.

“need you to come for me, honey. one last time, yeah? need you to feel good for me, baby.” lando mumbles into your mouth, wet and hushed. it’s overwhelming, and everything goes blank. all you are aware of is the burst of pleasure, his hold on your limp wrists, and two grey green eyes that are begging you to stay.

-

you get dressed quickly, whisper goodbye, and disappear out the door. something stops you, and you need clarity, for him more than for yourself.

you peek round the door, finding his unwavering gaze. your forehead creases, awkward anguish. the way you’re looking at him, deep and sympathetic, it makes you ache. this may well have to be the last time you look at him this intently. it stings.

“it’s better this way, you know?” you murmur.

lando nods, begrudgingly, yet obediently in defeat.

and then, once more, you’re gone and the latch on the door clicks somewhere far away in his apartment. he sinks into the bed, drowning in bed sheets and agony. his head thuds against the pillow and he stares out the window. the orange sunset makes his eyes burn. there’s something about the colour that makes him nauseous now that you’re gone.

-

a few days later, you’re in a meeting that you can’t focus on. he’s sat opposite you, not that you spare him a glance. it’s too painful.

you’ve been here for hours, your body becoming one with the office chair that you’re sinking deeper and deeper into.

yes, the car needs to be faster. yes, your heart hurts. yes, we need to up the strategy game.

you zone out, for the umpteenth time, losing yourself in the dark orange sky. it’s getting late. you crave sleep in your lonely bed. while you stare at the swirls and hues of warmth, you shiver.

lando, on the other hand, hasn’t heard a word said since he sat down. not when his eyes instantly find bruised wrists on the other side of the table. they match the bruises on his heart, the ones that you’d left behind when you’d grabbed it, stolen it from its solitude cage.

he watches you watch the sunset, and then the meeting is dismissed and everyone rushes home for dinner.

“who was that you took for dinner, then, noz?” one of the mechanics jeers at lando as you’re leaving the boardroom. those damned fucking photos would never let you sleep well again.

you’re a couple of steps ahead of them, ears perked up. you’re nauseous.

“no one you know.” lando laughs uncomfortably, waving it off. he sounds exhausted.

you fight with the revolving door and rush to your car. you scream as soon as the door slams and you’re in the drivers seat. you thrash against the steering wheel, and then you scream again.

when you compose yourself, and pull out of your parking space, you notice lando’s range rover ahead of you. when you get to the end of the drive, he will turn left, towards london, and you will turn right.

the devil on your shoulder murders the angel in cold blood, silencing the only voice of reason you had left.

when you reach the junction, you turn left, too.

-

yikes. anyways lmao

-

taglist

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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[14thgalerie]

dreamin' of him

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey

• word count: 5.7k

• genre: fluff

— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.

You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.

You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.

It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–

No. Y/N, stop it.

You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.

Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.

How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?

It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.

With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.

“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”

You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.

Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.

Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers. 

Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.

Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock. 

Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.

This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.  

“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.” 

“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms. 

“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”

Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”

Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry. 

“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you. 

You freeze.

“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.

“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?” 

“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.

“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”

Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”

You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.” 

You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.

From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.

“Nott.” You warn.

“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”

“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.

“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”

Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.

“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.

Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation. 

 It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.

Not that you found it all disappointing. 

There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.

But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.

He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.

He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.

“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up. 

He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.

“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”

“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”

He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.

“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”

Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”

Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”

Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.  

“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.

“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table. 

“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”

“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.

“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”

“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”

You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”

“Just come with me, will you?” 

“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”

Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.

Well… somewhat.

“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”

“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.

“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.

You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”

“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face. 

“Y/N?”

And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.

He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion. 

“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.

“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”

He hums, nodding as he thought about it.

“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”

The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way. 

“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”

The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.

Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”

“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. 

“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”

“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.

“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”

Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.

“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”

“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.

Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.

While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.

You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.

“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body. 

The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.

It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.

“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”

You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”

You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise. 

You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone. 

His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.

On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods. 

“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes. 

“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face. 

“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”

“Uh- What?”

“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.

“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”

Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.

“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.

“What?”

“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”

That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.

“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.

But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.

“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.

You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”

“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”

You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.

No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.

You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.” 

Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.

With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity. 

“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?” 

Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”

Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest.  “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends. 

“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.

Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.

Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.

 You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."

You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”

Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"

Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."

Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”

“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.” 

"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice. 

Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.

You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed. 

“Don’t.” You warn.

He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.

“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.

“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”

Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”

Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.

"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."

You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"

He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.

“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.

A different kind of tension. 

Not one that you would like to be a part of.

“Well, that would be the last of it.” 

Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.

His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”

When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.

Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.

“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.” 

“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air. 

He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now. 

“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”

You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already. 

 “And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”

“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.

“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”

“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.

“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.” 

“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.

“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.  

A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”

Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.

The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.

You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.

Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.

So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch. 

He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.

You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.

You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.

This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.

“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.

Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”

“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”

“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”

“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”  

“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.” 

"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."

“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”

His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.

masterlist

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Pyramid Headcanons

Warnings: Possessive Behaviour, Unhealthy Behaviour, Pyramid also exists in the version of Silent Hill before the Church Bell Rings, Mention of Physical Attack on Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Possessive ahh monster man.

Keeps you in a safe, isolated location far from the epicentre of the town so that the only monster you’re at risk of is him.

Scary dog privileges :>

Does anything and everything you ask him to, no matter how trivial the task. Unless you ask him to let you go outside.

Even if the other creatures aren’t wandering around and prowling the streets at that moment, he refuses to let you out.

Unless you give him the puppy dog eyes, which, to his absolute confusion, he found himself unable to resist.

But only once.

You used Pyramid’s weakness for cuteness against him and, when he heard a sound in the distance – the all-too familiar ringing of church bells – and turned to face the origin, you took your chance to escape.

You knew the monsters would come as the world around you peeled, revealing a hellish, rust-ridden, infested reality which, in your terror-stricken state, you didn’t think you’d be around long enough to be at risk of.

Of course, you were cornered.

Of course, just as you were about to become a commemorative name and face on a t-shirt at the hands of a monstrosity, Pyramid Head stepped in and wiped that jittering, straight-jacketed bastard off every map there was, physical and spectral.

Much like the very day he met you. Took you (for what purpose, you still do not know).

He’s never let you out of his sight since.

Keeps you by his side when he’s on a supply run since he can’t trust you to remain in the safety of whatever building he’s fortified.

You might not know it, given his involuntarily stoicism, but Pyramid Head is constantly watching you.

Sure, you may get the feeling you’re being watched, but in a town like Silent Hill, that’s practically a birthright.

And besides, Pyramid doesn’t have any eyes…you think ? So how can he possibly be watching you ?

If you try to chance your arm and run away, he uses his knife as a deterrent.

Slams it down right where you’d be if you had been a second quicker.

He’d never hit you. Not intentionally.

His strength and eternity of wielding the blade makes it as easy to control it as if it were his arm, or an extra limb.

But you don’t need to know that.

He’s lowkey a sucker for physical contact btw.

Once, he found you standing closer to him than usual when the day grew particularly cold.

He wasn’t sure what you were doing at first until you flat-out muttered about “How frigid” it was.

Clouds seemed to form before your face, a human anomaly Pyramid hadn't witnessed this close before. If ever.

This man has no clue how to help you, so he just kind of watched as you gave him a wide-eyed look and, quivering, approaching him as if he were a feral dog (why did you look so scared of him…?), leaned against his side.

He shifted, jumped, stepped back.

What was this feeling ?

His heart spiked, his skin prickled.

Alarmed, you sprang back, and he couldn’t articulate the response to tell you to stay, come back, I’m sorry.

When the two of you finally resumed your journey to nowhere, he walked a little closer to you, inching nearer every few minutes until his hand brushed your side.

And you didn’t pull away :> !

Eventually, when you grew tired, you settled in a decrepit little room that, much like the rest of the town, looked as if it would fall apart if you so much as gave it a mean look.

In a rare act of humanity, Pyramid sat beside you.

And he damn near jumped out of his skin (again) when, unprovoked, you leaned against him.

He made sure not to spook you. Not again.

He couldn’t handle that wounded stare you’d given him earlier. It made him feel…weak. Vulnerable. Human.

And he did not enjoy it.

Well, that's what he thought at first. Before the warmth of something unidentifiable settled in his chest.

From then on, he started taking you out during the colder hours of the day just for the chance to have your skin brush against his.

And each time, that feeling, that tightness in his chest, would spark, set him alight with a fluttering sensation he'd never known before he found you.

Until you got sick. Then he toned it down a little.

But only because he couldn’t enjoy his solitary walks to where he knew medicine lay, too concerned with wondering why you were jerking, and why you sounded like you were roaring whenever you opened your mouth and your eyes squeezed shut, or why liquid would pour out of your nose.

Bless him, he doesn’t know what a cold – or sickness – is. But he does know that, when you lay on top of him and basically used him as your bed, curling up on his chest, he thought he’d seen light.

Real light.

Has resisted the urge to try and make you ill again just for that purpose.

Luckily, your random acts of affection – hand holding (or finger holding, since your entire hand could wrap around one of his fingers),  nuzzling, leaning on him, saying “Thank you” whenever he returned with the supplies – keeps his unhealthy tendencies at bay.

Well, most of them at least.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[murdrdocs]

ben doesn't want to leave your bed in the morning king ben and queen!reader; oral (f receiving); "hinting" at power dynamics but nothings concrete here they're switches MDNI 18+ w/ BEN FLORIAN (descendants)

king ben abuses his power.

he doesn't usually.

he's known for being a good and honest king, a perfect heir to the throne, lifting up to the standards set by his parents. but sometimes he can't help but engage in a little misconduct.

he inherited the crown nearly five years ago, he's been doing this for a while, and maybe that's why he's let himself slip into a inappropriate casualness about it all. the first job jitters have worn off and he's filled out the powering role of a true king. besides, he's young. young and in love, people say as they make excuses for the both of you.

being young and in love is why he's here with you right now, even though the phone rang with a wakeup call a half hour ago. by now he should've been standing in the mirror with a towel hung low on his hips, not holding himself up over your body with the thin bedsheet slipping off of his hips.

"just one more," he pleads, kissing along your jaw between the words.

you groan, an almost staccato sound that scratches your throat. you tilt your head away, contorting your neck to try and hide the skin that ben reaches for. it's no use as his lips set a different path, pressing into the soft skin of your cheek, creating a trail towards your ear.

"you should go."

it's ben's time to groan. his is fuller, a sound coming from his chest. his free hand trails down to your thigh, fingers tickling your skin on the way down until they press with a firm touch into the side of your limb. he hikes your leg up and out to the side enough to make room for his slender hips, and then he presses himself down right against you, letting you feel the erection brewing beneath his cotton boxers.

"i should..." he says, and for a second you think you've gotten through to him. wishful thinking, obviously. you thought the same before when he told you that the last one was the last one. he'd even gotten dressed, all for the progress to be reversed by what was supposed to be a goodbye kiss.

this is more than a goodbye kiss.

ben practically lays his full weight onto you then, and his frame doesn't show it, but he's heavy. something else he takes after his father in.

"but i can't leave. not like this," he continues. he pouts through his words, calculating green eyes holding your gaze no matter how often you try to look away. he's so good with eye contact, holding the confidence of someone that has been trained to feed warmth towards people.

currently, he's feeding you too much warmth. he's too charismatic, too good of a talker and it shows not just in the words he chooses, but how he says them.

sounded dejected as he asks to indulge in the wet warmth of your cunt once more, sounding diplomatic as he reasons with why he needs just one more from you.

ben places a sloppy kiss to the center of your chest right over your breastbone.

"what if i make it quick?"

you sigh, pretending to think about it. really, you've already made a decision, but you lay it on thick as you play with the long and unruly strands of ben's hair.

"if i give you this now, then do you promise not to summon me during your lunch like i'm a servant?"

ben grins, wide and boyish. it grows slowly, quirking the corners of his lips up before completely taking over his face.

he nods once, pursing his lips as he says, "alright. i promise."

then, without letting you get another word in, ben slides down your body and places his face between your thighs. the button tip of his sharp nose pressing against your clit ignites you, and he strokes the fire with each smooth movement of his tongue until you're spasming around his mouth far too soon.

he lives up to his promise after that, slipping in the shower (after unsuccessfully attempting to pull you along with him, you both know he could have lifted you up and brought you in there if he really wanted to) with the taste and smell of you still on his thin lips. you groggily answer the phone for him while he gets ready, worrying that lumière could somehow tell what the two of you were doing from the sound of your voice alone.

you're sure you've gotten away with it. but if ben's tardiness didn't give you both away, the way he desperately seeks you out during his alloted lunch break definitely does.

at least he kept that promise, too, choosing to seek you out rather than have you hunted down and at his beck and call.

[yanderenightmare]

would love to hear any thoughts you have of what you think sukuna was like with a darling 1000 years ago, in the past before he became a curse

Ryomen Sukuna

TW: noncon, death of reader, fluff to angst

fem reader

Back when you were both little, Sukuna was just a village clown – a little rascal old farmers would shout at after he’d set their farm animals loose, skipping down the dirt roads with a sun-swallowing grin as they chased him away with their cane in the air.

He was the one with the unruly hair, bruised hands, and scuffed knees who’d steal bread from the baker and set the temple on fire. The one everyone knew to suspect but who managed to slip away somehow, always scot-free.

And you were his little cheerleader. Always hiding your giggle behind two hands, knowing it wasn’t ladylike of you to encourage him.

But he’d pull shenanigans just to make you smile. Often acting scary, playing in the shadows before popping out with a roar, scaring all the other children around the campfire, and getting scolded by the teachers. He’d pout when put in a timeout, running away and pulling you by the wrist to keep him company while the whole village searched for the two of you long into the night.

He'd found a spot for just the two of you. A cavern behind a veil of green, with a crack in the ceiling that allowed the moon to spill in, just bright enough to still let Spiderlillies bloom. He'd make a small fire, and you’d play shadow puppets on the rock. You’d make pine people and play the villagers while he’d put bird skulls on his fingers and act as the village monster.

Your father didn’t approve of him. Especially as the two of you got older with marriage arrangements fast approaching. Like always, it was unladylike of you to run around with the boy who never seemed to grow up.

You’d always loved the same person, but it wasn’t up to you. And soon you’d been promised to someone else.

Sometimes, you wished Sukuna was just a bit different – or, at the least, that he’d act somewhat differently. Maybe then he’d been good enough for you in the eyes of others. In your heart of hearts, you can't help but think that he’s a little selfish for never having tried for your sake, but when he surprises you in the night with those devious eyes and that childish smirk upon his lips, you can never will yourself to say no – let alone keep yourself from smiling and leaping into his arms.

Even on your wedding day, you wondered if he’d come – if only to say one last goodbye. You even selfishly wondered if he’d apologize and tell you he’d wished he’d tried harder, fought, and insisted on being a man who truly deserved you – that he regrets he isn’t the one taking your hand.

But you were a fool.

Maybe it was best he hadn’t, you thought after sitting awhile – a silent tear rolling down your cheek. In your wedding robes with your heart breaking. The maids gush and think it’s just wedding jitters, and you allow them that understanding even though your wedding is the furthest thing from your mind.

Your mother tells you that you’re beautiful, and it’s but a small salve to your aching – but enough to make the tears stop. She wishes you good luck and leaves you with the maids.

It’s only a short moment later that you hear screams. Blood-curdling, dying wails – worse than anything you’d heard in your life.

You follow quickly and find the ceremony in a bloodbath. So many lightless eyes stare blankly toward nothingness, their fine-dressed bodies piled on top of each other on the floor, blood-soaked and ripped limb from limb.

There’s only one thing left standing. Splattered in red blotches and black markings you don’t recognize. It breathes like a beast but stands atop the carnage as though the kills were all for sport.

But somehow… despite the second eyes, you knew that face.

“Sukuna…”

He turned, and you saw the other side of him, a deformed mockery of his once so pretty face. His eyes had gone red, glowing like a wolf in the wild – four of them, you counted now. They all blinked at the same time when looking at you.

You flinched, looking back at the slaughter of your village. Breath shivering. “What have you done?”

 “I’ve ensured no one's left to stand between us- no one to take you away from me- no one to tell me I’m not good enough-”

That isn’t his voice. Those aren’t his words. This isn’t the man you know – not the one you love. Sukuna isn’t a murderer. This was… this was a demon.

You ran. Slipping in your drapes as you pushed yourself forward, heart in your throat with lungs bursting your ribcage. You make it out into the moonlight before he has you pinned in the dewy midnight grass.

He growls something, but you can’t hear it. There’s too much blood rushing past your ears, hot and deafening, as you shake your head – eyes squeezed tight while you claw and kick at the thing that has you pinned.

“Get away- don’t touch me-”

Two of his arms grab your wrists and push them down flat by your head. The other two grab your face – not entirely softly, but much softer than what you’d expect from a monster. 

“Are you gonna tell me I’m not good enough for you too?” His words waft onto your face, warm with the breath that feels so familiar – a taste you’ve swallowed so many times before. 

But it just can’t be him, you deny. “I don’t know you- I don’t know who you are-”

It angers him. His hands strengthen their hold, and you wince as he leans in closer with a sneer. “Sure you do. I’m that village pest you waste your precious time on. The one you can’t be caught with during the day.”

You shake your head again with a cry. “You lie. Sukuna wouldn’t do this. He’s not cruel- he’d never hurt me-”

“You hurt me!” He argues with a roar, cutting you off sharply.

There's a heavy pause.

His lips ghost yours with teeth, making you whimper caught beneath him before he continues kissing you with his words. “Whispering you love me during the night, with your hands and legs wrapped around me like a brazen little whore, before you go and marry someone else in the same fortnight. Who’s the cruel one?”

“It wasn’t my choice-” You deny then, finally acknowledging it’s him but still not daring to open your eyes.

“Tch-” He scoffs callously, bitterly disappointed and judging you just as viciously. “Is that how you console yourself?”

The hands he’d held your face with slipped down your neck, stroking your skin with streaks of wet blood and hot tears, traveling down the dip of your attire with fingers curling around the fabric before tearing it off you.

“Maybe you can seek refuge in that now, as well.”

You killed yourself that same night after he’d had his way with you.

You’ve been dead a thousand years now.

Every year, on the day of your death, he plants a Spiderlilly by his shrine to honor you. Sometimes, he gets the urge to rip them all up, but he just ends up shouting instead.

He can barely remember your smell, your warmth, your face, the size of your hand in his. But still, not remembering the exact feel of you just makes missing you all the more painful.

[liz-on-leash]

Taken

STAYC Isa × Multiple Guys

[Commissioned]

No warning, read at your own risk!

4,040 Words

The evening air was a stark contrast to the energetic atmosphere inside the rehearsal studio, and Isa welcomed the cool breeze on her flushed skin as she stepped outside. 

Her heart, still racing from the intense dance routine, now quickened for a different reason as she noticed a van parked across the street, its engine idling. 

A sense of unease crept up her spine, but she brushed it off, attributing it to post-performance jitters.

As Isa strolled towards the alley, hoping to find a quiet spot to gather her thoughts, the van's side door slid open, and four men emerged with lightning speed. 

Two of them were tall and muscular with dark skin, their eyes glowing with an unsettling intensity. The other two, pale-skinned with sharp features, had a feral look about them.

"Gotcha, you teasing slut!" one of the black men stated, his deep voice cutting through the night.

Isa's scream was cut short as a meaty hand clamped over her mouth, while another arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground. 

She kicked and struggled, her small frame no match for their brute strength. The white men joined in, their rough hands groping her thighs, leaving red fingerprints on her pale skin.

"Help... Someone..." Isa whimpered, her voice muffled by the strong hand.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" The other black man delivered a brutal punch to her stomach, causing her to double over and retch. 

The man holding her released his grip on her mouth, only to replace it with a drugged cloth, forcing her to inhale the potent chemical.

“Breathe it in, you fucking tease," one of the white men hissed, his hot breath on her neck sending shivers of terror down her spine.

Isa's limbs grew heavy as the drug took effect, but her mind remained alert, aware of the horror unfolding. She felt herself being thrown into the van, her head hitting the metal floor with a sickening thud. The world spun as the men climbed in, their laughter filling the confined space.

"Look at this pretty thing, all drugged up and helpless," one of the black men said, his deep voice laced with cruel amusement. "Let's have some fun, baby."

Isa's eyes widened as she saw the men's faces contorting with lust. The black men, with their powerful builds, loomed over her, while the white men crawled closer.

"These thighs though..." The other white man reached out and squeezed her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "So thick and milky, holy fuck."

Isa let out a pained moan as his nails scratched down her sensitive skin, leaving trails of fire. The black man nearest to her face grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back.

"You're gonna take what we give ya, you hear?" he snarled, his breath washing over her face. "Scream all you want, ain't nobody comin' to save ya."

Her cries were muffled by the rough hand covering her mouth, as the other black man ripped at her clothes, tearing the fabric away from her body. The white men joined in, their hands rough and relentless, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

"Oh, she's a feisty one," one man remarked as Isa kicked out, her legs flailing in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

A heavy boot connected with her thigh, making her scream into the hand covering her mouth. "That's for trying to fight back, ya stupid bitch."

Isa's body jerked with each brutal impact, her legs becoming their primary target. The men took turns raining slaps and squeezes on her thighs, their laughter filling the van as they reveled in her pain.

"Please don't hurt me… I'm s-sorry..." she begged although she did nothing wrong.

"Shut her up, I can't stand that whining," a tattooed white man said, grabbing a length of duct tape and roughly covering her mouth, securing her cries of agony.

The van came to a screeching halt, and Isa's body slid across the floor, leaving a trail of sweat behind. The men's excitement grew as they reached their destination, their hands moving with renewed fervor over her trembling form.

"This is just the beginning, sweet Isa," a black man whispered, sending shivers of fear through her drugged body. "You're gonna learn to love every second of this ride."

The van doors flung open, revealing a desolate industrial area, bathed in the eerie glow of a single streetlight. Isa's dazed eyes struggled to focus as one black dude loomed over her.

"You won't be singing those sweet songs anymore, bitch," he spat, ripping the tape from her mouth with a cruel smile. 

The sudden pain made Isa cry out, only to be silenced by a stinging slap across her cheek, leaving her reeling. 

As she struggled to regain her senses, her eyes widened in horror as the same man unzipped his pants, releasing a monstrous black cock. It was thick and veiny, its size rivaling the width of her forearm. 

Her breath hitched as he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You will take this down your pretty throat, and you better not bite," he warned. "Gonna fuck that mouth and ruin it for anyone else."

Before Isa could process his words, the other black man grabbed her from behind, his strong arms wrapping around her, holding her in place. “No, let me, ugh, go…” 

She felt the cold, hard length of the cock pressing against her lips, and despite her efforts to resist, it forced its way in, stretching her mouth painfully.

Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth as the black cock invaded, her eyes wide with shock. The man behind her held her head in a vice-like grip, allowing his friend to thrust forward, driving his cock down her throat. 

She gagged and choked, her eyes watering as she struggled for breath.

"Look at her go," the man behind her laughed. "She's loving it, can't get enough of that black dick!"

Isa's eyes rolled back as he withdrew only to thrust again, each push sending his cock deeper, triggering her gag reflex. 

Her throat burned and her nose ran as he face-fucked her with abandon, his balls almost slapping against her chin with each forward.

The two remaining men held her arms and legs, their hands digging into her tender flesh, leaving extra bruises that would serve as reminders of this night. They laughed, their voices echoing in her throbbing head.

"She's such a good little cock-sucker, ain't she?" a white man taunted, his hand tightening on her thigh.

The man fucking her throat grunted with pleasure, his hips moving at a relentless tempo. He pushed deeper, lowering himself until he was sitting on her face.

His cock bulged inside her throat, stretching her to the limit. Isa's eyes jutted out, her face turning red as she choked, her body convulsing in an attempt to breathe.

Snot and tears mixed on her face, her eyes pleading for mercy as she struggled against the men holding her down. The room spun, her vision blurring as she teetered on the edge of consciousness.

The white man holding her legs landed his eyes on the wet patch spreading between Isa's thighs. Licking his lip, he yanked her shorts down her thick thighs, exposing her glistening pussy lips. 

"Aw, look at that. She's so scared, she pissed herself. What a fucking mess."

Isa's body trembled, her shame compounded by the men's laughter and crude remarks. The man holding her legs ran his fingers through the wetness, smearing it across her sensitive skin.

"Bet that pussy tastes as sweet as she looks," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Might just have to find out.”

The black man on Isa’s face picked up his momentum, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. Isa's throat constricted around his black cock, providing a tight, wet sheath for him to plow into deeper.

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body, his balls tightening with impending release. "Fuck, yeah, swallow it, slut!" he grunted, his eyes rolling back as he reveled in the sensation of her mouth and throat massaging his cock.

Isa's eyes watered, her vision blurred as she choked on his length, her body convulsing in a desperate attempt to draw breath. The man behind her held her head in a merciless grip, ensuring she couldn't escape the assault on her throat. 

The squelching slurping sounds of his cock pounding her face filled the van, mingling with her trembling muffled cries and the men's groans.

Meanwhile, the white man attending to her pussy grew bolder. He worked his fingers roughly along her slit, gathering her fluids before pushing a thick finger into her tight, virgin hole. 

Isa's body tensed, her legs straining against the man holding them as she groaned in surprise around the cock in her throat.

"Ah, she's so fucking tight," the man grunted. “Need to stretch this pussy until it's ready for our cocks."

He added another finger, scissoring them inside her, eliciting a strangled cry from Isa as he stretched her virgin walls, his rough nails scraping against her sensitive insides. 

Her body squirmed, her hips bucking involuntarily as he violated her with his fingers, preparing her for the impending penetration.

The second white man hugged Isa's leg to his chest, exposing her soft inner thigh. He rubbed his engorged cock along her smooth skin, his precum leaving a sticky trail.

His hand moved to her calf, squeezing and kneading before he bent down and licked a wet stripe along her calf, his hot tongue leaving a wet, sloppy imprint.

"Taste so good, I could eat you up, babe," he commented.

Isa's body shook, her pupils vanished as the black man above her buried his cock deep into her esophagus, holding himself there as he pumped his hot cum down her throat. 

Her airway completely blocked, she gagged and choked, her body convulsing as she struggled, her nails scratching at his thighs in a futile attempt to escape. The man's cock twitched, emptying his load, his pleasure heightened by her misery. 

As he pulled out, his cock sliding from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound, his thick cum spilled from her lips and nose.

Isa's body, overwhelmed by the assault on her senses, went into shock as she slumped limply, passing out with the taste of cum and the violation of fingers still fresh in her pussy.

The men grabbed her unconscious form and tossed her further into the abandoned brick building, her body landing with a sickening thud on the broken and dirty concrete floor, illuminated by a single flickering bulb.

The men’s eyes gleaming with lust and cruelty, were not satisfied with the extent of Isa's suffering. They wanted to push her to the brink, reveling in her pain and despair. 

One of the men, his eyes alight with sadistic glee, snatched a half-empty beer bottle from the corner of the dilapidated room and approached the trembling idol.

"Wake up, baby," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Time to join the party again."

Isa's body jerked as the cold liquid was poured down in her mouth, her abused throat burning as she choked and spluttered, gasping for air. Her eyes flew open, taking in the grinning faces of her captors, and the horror of her situation came crashing down on her.

Mustering what little strength she had left, Isa pushed herself onto her hands and knees, her body trembling violently. Her once pristine skin was now wounded and soiled, her hair a tangled mess, and her makeup streaked with tears and cum.

"Please... have mercy..." her voice rasp and raw from the abuse. "I can't take any more... I'll do anything, just let me go."

Her pleas were met with laughter and crude remarks, the men's desire only heightened by her vulnerable position.

"Look at you, on your knees, begging like a dog," one black man said, his deep voice laced with scorn. “You should know your place. You're our thing now."

Isa's eyes darted from one man to the next, her hands weakly attempting to cover her exposed tits and pussy, a futile effort to preserve some dignity.

"Please... I won't tell anyone... Just let me go..." she sobbed, her body shaking with the force of her tears. "I feel sick... I can't..."

Her words were cut off by a sharp kick to her side, sending her sprawling onto her stomach.

"Shut the fuck up with your begging!" the man who had face-fucked her spat, his eyes dark with rage. "I wanna see you suffer, bitch. We do whatever we want, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

He stepped forward, his sole pressing down on the back of Isa's head, forcing her face into the dirty floor. "No! No! Please!" She struggled, her hands scrabbling at his foot, her screams echoing off the brick walls.

"Who's first?" a white man asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

"Don't matter," the black man who had stepped on her head replied, his voice calm but menacing. "We all gonna have our turns anyway. She's ours and she's gonna learn her fucking place soon enough."

The white man who had fingered Isa's pussy stepped forward, his thick cock jutting out proudly. "I will stretch her out nice and good for ya. She won't be walking straight after I'm done."

Isa's cries intensified as she realized there would be no escape, no mercy from these ruthless men. Her body, once a vessel for her art, was now a plaything for their darkest desires.

The first white man positioned himself behind Isa, his hands gripping her soft, round ass. He lifted her, aligning her with his throbbing cock, which stood rigid and swollen, eager to claim her. 

Isa's cries intensified as she begged for mercy, her head still pinned to the ground by the black man's boot.

"No! Get away— Ahhh!!!” she sobbed, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The second black man, not one to be left out of the action, climbed onto Isa's back. He twisted her arms behind her, bending them at an agonizing angle, causing her to scream in fresh pain, her saliva mixing with her tears on the dirty floor.

As the white man held her hips, his cock poised at her entrance, Isa's body tensed, every muscle screaming in protest. The head of his cock pushed past her tight pussy lips, stretching her, invading her most intimate canal. Her body vibrated, nausea rising as the trauma of her situation hit her anew.

The big white cock, relentless in its pursuit of pleasure, slid further inside, inch by inch. Isa's eyes rolled back, her mouth opening in a silent scream as her body tried to adjust to the invasion.

With each push, he sank deeper, his cockhead bumping against her cervix, arousing a fresh wave of pain. Isa's body shuddered with the force of his penetration, her muscles clenching involuntarily, providing a grippy, wet glove.

He gripped her hips, holding her in place as he began to pound into her, his balls kissing against her clit. Her pussy, and untouched, now molded around his cock, her inner walls gripping and massaging his length with each withdrawal and penetration.

"You like that, don't ya?" he growled, slapping her ass cheek hard, leaving a red imprint. "Bet you love getting fucked by a big white cock, you Asian slut. Scream for me, tell me how much you love it."

Isa's body shook with the force of his pounding, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Her arms, twisted painfully behind her, prevented her from forming coherent words, but the white man wasn't satisfied.

"Tell me, filthy bitch!" he demanded, his voice harsh as he slammed into her, his hips meeting hers with a violent rhythm.

Isa's mouth opened, her throat working as she tried to form words, but all that escaped was a pained, “It hurts… It hurts so much... Help me… everyone… manager-nim…”

"You're a stupid bitch, can't even give me what I want," he snapped. 

He drove into her angrily until he heaved and cummed inside her, his cock twitching as he filled her wounded pussy with his seed. Isa's body jerked with the force of his release, the burning sensation of his cum adding to the agony coursing through her.

He then pulled out, his spent cock slick and sticky with their mixed fluids, leaving Isa's weak body trembling on the hard floor.

The black man crouching on Isa’s back released her arms, letting them dangle by her sides. He positioned himself behind her, dropping to his knees and grasping her plump ass cheeks, pulling them apart to expose her tiny fluttering asshole. 

"Go on, bro, tear that ass up," urged the white dude who creampied her. "Show her who's in charge."

The black bastard leaned forward, his breath washing over Isa's exposed rosebud, making her tremble and whimper. He spat on her sensitive hole, the wetness dripping down her cleft.

The other black dude stepped off Isa's head, he grabbed a fistful of her matted hair, yanking her face up from the filthy floor. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with the dirt and smeared snot.

"You belong to us now, cunt," his foul breath washed over her face. "Say goodbye to your idol life, because from now on, you're our sex slave. And many more."

Isa's body shook with silent sobs, her eyes pleading, reflecting the shattered remnants of her former self.

"We ain't stopping till we've had our fill," he continued. "So, stop your whimpering and accept your new life as our bitch."

He delivered a sharp backhand across her mouth. "And don't play dumb, we know you understand every fucking word. You're gonna get bred daily, even when that belly of yours starts swelling. We would still fuck the baby out of you, got it?"

Isa's eyes widened in horror, her mind struggling to comprehend the endless violation they intended to subject her to.

The black man stepped aside, his work of breaking her spirit momentarily complete. In his place stepped another white degenerate, a length of cord dangling from his hand.

"My turn to loosen that throat of yours, baby," he announced, filled with anticipation.

Isa weakly shook her head, her eyes pleading for mercy, but the white dude yanked her hair, forcing her head back, exposing her throat, vulnerable and exposed.

With swift efficiency, he wrapped the cord around her slender neck before pulling the ends tight, cutting off her air supply. Isa's mouth fell open in a silent cry, her eyes bulging as she clawed at the cord digging her skin, her face turning blue.

Seizing the opportunity, he shoved his cock past her trembling lips, the head hitting the back of her throat instantly, triggering a violent gag reflex. He hissed in pleasure, his hips swaying, fucking her mouth as he maintained his grip on the cord.

Isa's body convulsed, her hands clawing at the cord - more like on her own neck in an attempt to hook her fingers into the cord as she stifled around his invading cock, her saliva mixing with her cries.

The white dude's cock invaded her throat, stretching her mouth wide, while the black bastard's thick shaft breached her tight asshole, tearing through her sphincter.

The cord around her neck tightened, cutting off her air supply, making the penetration even more severe and sickening.

Isa's sphincter screamed in protest as his thick cockhead forced its way past the resistant muscle, producing a scream that was instantly muffled by the cock pounding her throat. 

Her body stiffened, every muscle clenching as her ass was stretched to its limits, accommodating the brutal invasion.

The black man’s hips surged forward, driving his cock deeper into her bowels. "Feel it in your fucking guts, right?”

Isa's eyes rolled back, her vision tunneling as her body struggled. The white man's cock pumped in and out of her mouth, his thick shaft sliding past her gag reflex, hitting the back of her throat.

"Look at her, loving it, stupid cunt. Can't get enough of our cocks, can you?"

The black man's cock, now buried balls-deep in her ass, began pounding, his hips slamming against her bruised ass. Her insides burned and stretched, her sphincter clenching and unclenching involuntarily around his shaft.

"You're mine, bitch, screaming for my cock in that ass of yours.”

Isa's body trembled, her nerves curling as her consciousness threatened to slip away into the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. The dual penetration, the choking cord, and the nonstop battering pushed her to the brink of endurance. 

Her hands fell limp, her fingers scraping the dirty floor, her face turning an alarming shade of blue, her eyes pleading silently for an end to the torment.

Sensing her distress, the white man released the cord, allowing her to gasp for air, her lungs heaving. But the respite was fleeting as his cock continued its assault on her face, his pace wild.

Her throat ached and abused, tears mixing with the sweat and filth on her face. Her body shamed her, leaking urine from her neglected pussy, the warm yellow liquid mixing with the dirt on the floor, a testament to her broken spirit.

"Fuck, she's pissing herself, can't handle our cocks," the white man laughed.

Isa's mind screamed for release, her body yearning for the sweet escape of death, the violation too much to bear. The men showed no mercy, their pleasure heightened by her suffering, their cocks throbbing as they claimed every inch of her.

Black man unleashed a torrent of thick cum deep into her ass, his hips jerking as he filled her ruined bowels with his seed. White man's cock twitched and pulsed before firing his load down her throat, his pelvic slamming into her face.

Isa's throat worked to expel the cum from her mouth, a mixture of gagging and retching as she struggled to breathe and swallow at the same time. 

Black man withdrew his spent cock from her ass, and the cum that had been bubbling at her stretched hole now leaked out, mixing with the filth she produced down her thighs.

Her body twitched and spasmed, her limbs splayed out like a dying fish, but the peace lived a second. The two remaining men, their hard cocks ticking, stepped forward.

"Time to double-stuff this K-pop cunt,"  white man suggested.

Isa's eyes widened in horror as she realized their intention. They positioned themselves, one at her ass and the other at her pussy, their cocks poised to invade her ravaged holes. 

White man at her ass lined up his thick shaft with her gaping hole, now slick with cum and blood, and thrust forward, his cock sliding into her with ease, stretching her anus once more. 

At the same time, the black man at her pussy plunged his cock into her swollen, cum-dried cunt, his length sliding past her battered canal with ruthless force. Isa's body arched, her back bowing as she screamed around the new cock in her gaping mouth.

"Won't let you pass out, bitch," one man said, bringing another a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "You have to keep awake for every second of the fun."

The needle pierced her skin, injecting the drug into her system, forcing her eyes open, her body alert despite the overwhelming exhaustion and pain.

Her ass and pussy were now gaping, stretched beyond recognition. Her asshole, red and raw, twitched with each pulse of the cock inside her, her sphincter loose and unresponsive. 

Her pussy, swollen and bruised, leaked cum and blood, her inner walls pummeled and bruised from the continuous pounding.

Time lost all meaning for Isa. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months. Her life now revolved around the cocks that invaded her body, her once vibrant self reduced to a shell, existing solely to envelop their cocks.

The pain, once excruciating, had faded to a dull numbness, her body broken and desensitized. Her eyes, once full of life and hope, now held only darkness and despair as her body jerked and spasmed, a living testament to their cruelty.

[lipglossanon]

Day 18

Kink: Threesome

Pairing: Las Plagas!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader x Shape Shifter/Wendigo!Leon S. Kennedy

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, threesome, aphrodisiac, noncon, slight body horror, off screen oc death, biting, blood, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), blowjob, cumming in mouth, cum swallowing, facial, unprotected sex, creampie, cum shot

not proofread

The party’s been raging for hours; pockets of people completely passed out uncomfortably close to the bonfire. You’ve had a couple of drinks, but nothing on the heavy side. It’s a cool October night, nearby the forest that’s supposedly haunted (by what or whom has only been whispered about). 

You’ve never put much stock in those old wives tales, especially tonight when some of the locals decided to dredge it all up in an attempt to scare newcomers.   It’s why later, when a crying girl finds you to say her boyfriend hasn’t come back, that you opt to go with her to look for him. 

“He said he’d be right back,” she sniffles, mascara running. “It’s been almost an hour. Do you think he got lost?”

“Maybe,” you push past some low branches, listening to her follow behind. “He may have just passed out or something.”

“Maybe,” her breath hitches. “Maybe that monster got him.”

You roll your eyes since she can’t see your face, “Doubt it.”

Walking deeper into the trees, you miss the movement behind the girl; a too long arm reaching down from the branches above to snag around her neck and yank her upward. A loud snap makes you turn, eyes squinting in the murky darkness. 

“Hey,” you purse your lips, irritated that you forgot to ask her name. “Hey, are you okay?”

She stumbles out from the trees, brushing pine needles and leaves off her clothes. 

“Yeah, sorry, just tripped that’s all,” she smiles and you squint in reply. 

“Okay, well just try to be careful.”

She quickens her pace to fall into step beside you. 

“You said he’s been out here for an hour?”

She hums, “Just about.“

You glance over at her only to see her already staring at you, practically bright eyed and bushy tailed. It takes you aback, slowing your walk. 

“You good?”

You take in her dry eyes and nearly blank expression. 

“Oh, I’m great,” she smiles again and your brows raise. 

“Oookay then,” doubt laces your tone. 

Turning away from her, you turn your attention back to scanning the area. 

“This is a decent way in,” you offer up. “Think he’ll be this far in the forest, away from the party?”

“Oh, he was,” she giggles, so high and lilting that it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. 

You spin around to face her head on, “Was? Are you guys fucking with me? Tricking me out here as some stupid ass joke!?”

“Kind of,” she shrugs, but then her body doesn’t stop moving, a weird jittering overtaking her limbs. 

You bite back a gasp as you watch while her bones crack and fold in on themselves before extending at odd intervals, joints in places that aren’t the norm. Her face melts like a sped up candle and you blink rapidly, mind trying to process what you’re witnessing. In the blink of an eye, it morphs into that of an animal skull with horns protruding from the head. 

The thing in front of you stands tall, skeletal and ghastly. Your brain bleats in terror, but your feet are frozen to the spot.  Movement in your peripheral drags your wide eyes blissfully away from the horror show in front of you. Whatever subconscious hope you harbored dies a swift death as a new monster steps forth. 

Blacked out skin crawling with dark veins end with sharp tipped claws. His face makes your stomach drop out like a free fall ride at an amusement park. The tale of the slit mouthed woman crosses your mind before it disappears with the fervent hope this is all some sort of fucked up dream. 

His lips have split at the corners, stretching up along his jaw like a jester’s grin paired with razor sharp teeth. Black veins travel from his hairline down across his face—he looks like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

A low rasping laugh from behind has you jerking your head back around to the creature from before. 

“She looks like fun, doesn’t she?” It croons, body contorting again until it nearly matches the thing behind you—fringed blond hair and gleaming eyes. 

Now looking like a regular guy, it steps forward, crossing the distance in long strides until he’s standing in front of you. 

“W-what do you want?” You speak but it’s hard pushing the words through your dry mouth. 

“To have fun,” he snickers, night shine eyes flicking up to the person behind you. “We like to compete.”

“He’s right,” the other creature agrees easily, stepping into your personal space, body heat a brand against your back. “We’ll make it fun for you, too.”

Sharp burning pain pierces the side of your neck as needle like teeth sink into your skin. 

“I’m so jealous,” the one in front of you whines, horns pushing through his hair to curl over his head. “Lucky fucking bug.”

The man behind you snarls but whatever he replies with is lost as liquid heat radiates out from the bite mark. You swoon as white hot arousal blazes through your body so fast, it makes you dizzy. Their soft bickering dies down when you whimper, swaying on your feet and into the man in front of you. 

“Aww, she’s feeling it now,” he grins and his sharp incisors make your pussy clench. 

“Wha’—feel weird,” you try to shake your head but your body feels heavy and needy, nipples pebbling into hard peaks under your shirt while your cunt leaks slick into the gusset of your panties. 

“That’s just a little sumthin’ to make ya feel good,” the one holding you soothes, hands twitching against you as his fingers turn double jointed. “That’s a specialty of Leon’s.”

“Leon?” You frown up into the grinning face above you. 

“He likes to imitate me,” Leon answers and rubs a sharp tipped hand down your arm. “Thinks it’s funny.”

“It is,” the other one argues back. “We could pass as twins.”

“Cause you’re a weirdo,” a scoff from behind you. “Shouldn’t we be moving this along?”

“Of course, I’ll take first dibs.”

“We both will.”

“You got the last one.”

“No, you did. You killed him, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” a fond sigh. “He was an asshole, but his bone marrow was so worth it.”

The fear has slunked off like a kicked dog and in its place a lustful haze so potent, you think you’ll claw your skin off if someone doesn’t touch you. 

“Please,” you whine, “I can’t think straight.”

“Poor thing,” Leon murmurs, dipping his head forward and sucking on the bloody mark.

Keening, you rock your ass back against him, clit pulsing like a second heartbeat. He groans and lathes his tongue across the bite, sharp teeth teasing at your skin. 

“Oh god,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as he sinks his teeth into a spot on your shoulder after tugging your shirt out of the way. 

“Fuck, that looks good,” the man in front of you growls, moving up to sandwich you between them.

He copies his supposed look alike— pressing hot, open mouthed kisses from your jawline to your shoulder before savagely biting into the flesh. You cry out into the night, back arching forward, pushing yourself into two hungry mouths. After each monster works the skin with their teeth, they pull away, each admiring their own handiwork.

Your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears. They’ve done nothing more than sink their greedy teeth into you and yet you’re on the cusp of an orgasm already. 

“I need to be inside her little pussy,” Leon pulls away, grinding his bulge against your ass. “Gotta stuff that hot cunt.”

“Mmm, I just want this soft, pretty mouth,” the strange creature in front of you groans, body stretching tall once more. “Bend over for us, sweetness.”

They maneuver your body like a puppets, stripping your jeans and panties down to your ankles and folding you forward, shivering as your soaked pussy is exposed to the cold October air. 

“Oh, good girl,” one of them moans while a cock notches at your drippy hole followed by one slapping across your lips. 

“Open wide,” a vicious croon ending in a groan as your jaw parts on a keen, lips and tongue eagerly working the cock deeper into your mouth.  

Salty precum bursts across your tastebuds and you suck harder, needing more of that taste to flood your mouth. 

“Damn, fucking gagging for it, huh?” 

Moaning, your eyes well with tears, body pressing back against the fat tip teasingly pushing in and out of your cunt. 

“Ready?” 

“Go ahead and stuff that little pussy, Leon.”

Your fluttering walls stretch around the fat length rocking steadily into your sopping wet cunt. 

“Oh god, she’s so—fuck, so fucking—her pussy’s so hot,” he whines, pelvis coming to rest against your ass, cock buried completely in your hole. 

“Yeah? This mouth is so soft and wet,” a low grunt meets your ears as you hollow your cheeks and suck him off more sloppily. “Fuck, use that slutty tongue, ohhh, there we go.”

You’re totally mindless, completely giving in to the pleasure of having a thick cock in your mouth and cunt, stretching you open wide in different ways. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth to drip in thick strings off your chin. 

The cock buried deep in your cunt, throbs and kicks, leaking precum in your clenching heat. The man fucking your mouth grips your head with both hands, holding you steady as he rocks his hips back and forth, balls slapping against your chin.

“Can you rub her clit?” Leon grits out, raising his clawed fingers up. “I don’t wanna cut her.”

“Oh, I can rub that swollen needy clit,” he chuckles. “Gonna make that fat pussy cream all over your cock.”

You whine, suckling the head of his cock before bobbing your head back down, gagging yourself. 

“Fuck,” he tosses his head back. “Yeah you like that, fucking slut. ‘m gonna shoot my load down this hot throat.”

Your eyes roll back, something soft flicking and rubbing against your clit and making your legs shake. 

“Like my tail? Can feel that pudgy bud throbbing for some attention,” he goads mockingly. “So… slippery.”

Behind you, Leon begins humping your pussy at a rougher pace, cock pistoning in and out of your cunt, a wet plap plap plap that turns you on even more. 

The more you moan the rougher they become, fucking your mouth and pussy with near abandon as one of them plays with your clit. You cum hard, pussy pulsing and fluttering around the cock bullying its way into your hole. Fluid gushes from you cunt, soaking your thighs and the man behind you. 

“God, we got a squirter,” the man fucking your mouth growls out. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum in this fucking mouth. Oh yes, suck me, suck me, oh shit.”

He hisses and hot thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat. You swallow as much as possible until you start to choke, coughing around his dick until he pulls it out, spurting a few more ribbons of spend all over your lips and chin. 

Growling from behind paired with a death grip onto your hips are all signals of Leon’s impending orgasm. He snaps his hips a few more times, sinking into you to the hilt and spilling deep inside your cunt. 

“Yeah, fill that fucking pussy up.”

Leon groans, rutting against your ass as he keeps cumming inside your milking cunt. 

“God, it’s so good,” he pants, pulling out to jerk off the last of his load onto your ass. 

While you’re all trying to catch your breath, you collapse down onto your knees—or you would have if it wasn’t for Leon gripping your waist at the last minute. He fumbles with your panties and jeans until he gets them pulled back up into place. 

“How long til that shit wears off?” The one in front of you looks back to normal—a blue eyed man with not a blonde hair out of place. 

“Maybe another twenty minutes. We should probably sneak her back to that party,” the one behind you steps up next to you, looking identical.

“Let’s head out then, bro.”

Leon rolls his eyes and swings you up into a bridal carry, falling in step behind the other one. Eyelids feeling like they’re weighed down by a pile of bricks, you let them fall shut. You’ll have time to worry about whether or not they’re going to kill you later. 

[eccentricallygothic]

The Interrogation

Pairing: Captain America!Steve Rogers | Villain!Reader.

Description: Steve had finally caught you, and he knew just how to make you talk.

Warning(s): Dark undertones because it's me, interrogation through fucking, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, slapping, spanking, pinching, biting, exhibitionism, cock riding, dacryphilia, overstimulation and mentioned orgasm denial, hair pulling, degradation. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request (anon), here. 

Note: Villains in general are my jam so I loved this. Sorry this is so late. Hope you like it still <3

.

Half a choked gasp fluttered past your lips as the remaining half was eaten by the sob you let out right after, droplets of the tears that stained your stinging cheeks spraying out from the vibration of the sound waves escaping your mouth.

“Please!” Your back arched and a vein in your thighs twitched, causing the limb to start jittering as your knees pushed deeper into the chair your impaler was relaxing against while you cried and mutilated your dignity in front of all the main S.H.I.E.L.D staff that were cloaked behind the two-way mirror of the interrogation room. “Oh!” Your hair whipped a near revolution around your lolling head when your defiler's rough fingers cracked against your soft and wet cheek once more. 

Your pussy was so stretched. Oh… The consciousness of how Steve Roger's cock had your intimates spread so wide around his hot, leaking and stone hard cock made you feel uneasy when you imagined the state of your entrance. Despite how the contact of his palm felt against your face, the manner in which he so humiliatingly deprived you of such a basic bodily function as breathing, the infuriating condensation with which he pinched and fondled your exposed chest and the sheer degradation in the way he did all this in front of his people for no good reason than making you rat, you only clenched harder and slapped your ass against his muscular thighs faster. Your tears flowed at the same rate as the speed with which you imparted upon him the information that was so dear to your ambitions. 

The ratting was not the worst part though.

No.

That was the fact that despite your initial attempts to make it look like you were unwilling, that the cruel Captain was forcing his depraved will onto you, that S.H.I.E.L.D was nothing but a bunch of glorified goons, your tears were not of disgust or denial, much to your own surprise. 

Rather, they were ones of pure, bubbling and desperate need; frustration.

For just one more orgasm. Another bittersweet climax to add to the many you had had ever since Steve saw through your design; took matters into his own hands. Yet another chase through the agony of your swollen petals squelching and sucking away at the painfully prominent veins of his dick.

“Say it for me, brat” his smooth deep voice cut through you like needle penetrates cotton. Your loins closed in on themselves. So close. “Tell your Captain the name” with the way his cold blue eyes that drowned in the nimbostratus of his lust watched you, his rough fingers groped your spanked ass and guided your aching hips into yet another oscillation on his cock, your fucked out brain was forced to register his words as the only truth you knew; the only law that existed.

“C- Captain!” The word faintly stung your tongue as the mind unleashes a sensory revolt against one who betrays his conditioning. “C- Cap–!” It was the result of his torturing you before granting you your first orgasm of the session that you had willingly shattered your own dignity and accepted his command as well as title. 

Were you really to blame?

When it hurt this good?

“Say it for me, baby” he nearly whispered the pet name as he sat up straighter and pressed his nose to yours to steal a rough kiss which your hair hid from everyone else, one of his manly hands abandoning their station on your hip to trail up the side of your body to find a grip between the strands of your hair and against your scalp. You cried harder as your head collapsed against his. The readjustment of his body had pushed him balls deep inside you. “Say it for your Captain and he will give you what you need most” and that was all you needed to hear before you gave out the name of the brains of your operation. 

Steve didn't have to. He really didn't. It was the disdainful curl of Fury's lip that proved it. But the Captain finally brought his muscular thighs into motion and rocked his hips to abuse your sensitive spot with his tip so to make you cry, his fingers pulled your head back and out of his way so he could latch his hot lips onto that one spot that he had discovered right under your ear, his other hand now departed from your hips because his own had taken over, and his thumb glided over your cunt in a way that made your melted brain spin. Your myopic vision gyrated and an animalistic cry rose up from your aching epiglottis. It was barely audible but full of the hot air that your tense lungs had been compressing. 

Your weak body nearly keeled over and hit the ground from the orgasm that quaked through your muscles and organs. You shivered and shuddered, your arched form hanging from his cock that his strong legs bounced you on furiously. It was all so much. Too much. You had reached a point where the sharp and barbaric bite of his teeth on your erect nipples was barely noticeable to you because of how fugue you had become on his cock.

Your brain shut down. Whatever happened next was nothing but blurry glimpses of fleeting moments that raced by you. Every second felt like an eternity and the pulling of your limbs and the unbearable echoing of voices inside your head made you wince. You grunted and whined when your sex disconnected from the base of your impaler's cock with a pop loud enough that even you registered it.

You felt your body being dragged. The cells. You didn't have to see it to know it. They were the only fate of your like in this organization. You took a mindless glance behind you and a number of thoughts wormed their way into your disintegrated consciousness.

Did the Captain stare at every offender's dragging away with that primal hunger in his cold blue eyes? Was it routine for his own personal team to deprive a prisoner of their clothes without providing them with a uniform in their stead? Were all your fellow inmates suspended to the ceiling with their hands handcuffed to the chain hanging from it? Was solitary confinement necessary for all new convicts?

Or was it a special courtesy bestowed solely upon you by the Captain and his team? 

Something told you that you would find out.

And very soon.

[krashlite]

Design concepts for Etho!

Design notes under the cut!

Animal: hare fox

FACE/HEAD

Long face!

Rectangle eyes, very round ears

Expressions are based off his eyebrows

Eyes aren’t that expressive except with surprise and pleading

Reserved poses until he’s startled (at which point becomes more of a cartoon character).

Mostly uses his arms for posing

Movements are led by his hips

BODY TYPE (not that you see it)

Lean! Mostly hard muscles

Emphasized joints, specifically his knees, ankles, and wrists

Larger torso compared to the rest of his body to mimic hares

Longer hands/feet to resemble hare feet

CLOTHES

Covered head to toe in layers, the only skin we see is the top of his face. He does this regardless of climate and arc

Outfit bulk makes his limbs look tiny and disguises visible muscles

NEVER shows his face. It’s always conveniently out of frame, even when his scarf/mask is down

ZIPPERS.

Mostly wears darker colors but green’s his main color (like camouflage)

Boots get more worn down in later seasons (he gave up and just wore socks in SL and got new shoes for WL, which I’ll draw later)

ADDITIONAL

He has albinism! So no pigment in his hair, skin, or eyes.

He used to wear two red contacts to mess with people, but lost one of them and never replaced it

Eyes jitter!!

+ the traditional sketches from figuring out his outfit/shapes

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vienna. Two.

you want to shake him, scream at him, bare your heart to him. you don’t dare. not yet, anyway. you don’t know how to feel - and carmen doesn’t either.

pairing - childhood bestfriend!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

word count - 2k

authors note - part two, baby! I hope you can start to understand their dynamic here - they’re like magnets. they’re a perfect match until they’re not. this is going to be fun… <3

part one. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We haven’t done this in a while, huh?”

You shake your head as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, taking a moment to look Carmen up and down.

He’s dressed up just for you, even attempted to style his hair. He’s wearing trousers and a linen shirt, loafers on his feet instead of the usual beat up sneakers. His jacket is slung over his arm, rings adorning his fingers. He looks handsome.

Although, admittedly, he always looks handsome to you. You’re not blind to the way girls look at him, how they looked at him when you were growing up. He’s always had this unassuming charm, this subtle, quiet beauty. He’s got striking features. Strong jaw, sloping nose, unruly curls.

He was always a skinny, lanky kid. Limbs too big for his body. He had a habit of tripping over his own feet, making both of you laugh no matter how many times it happened.

Now, he’s grown into himself. He looks strong. Broad shoulders, thick biceps, prominent thighs. He’s toned, muscled, built slightly like some sort of Greek God.

The realisation hits you all of a sudden, standing outside of The Bear. It takes you off your feet a little, causing you to sway sideways and into Carmy. His arm wraps around your hip as if by reflex, warmth from his palm bleeding through into the material of your dress. His cologne is woody and musky, and you know if you stand close enough to him for long enough that you’ll smell like it too.

“I’ve never had to do this,” he murmurs, breaking you out of your daydream. “Get seated at my own damn restaurant.”

You chuckle, fixing a stray curl that’s fallen into his eyes with gentle fingers.

“You ready? We’ve been stood here for like ten minutes, Carm. It’s kinda cold.”

You think that maybe this is all a little overwhelming for him, so you’re letting him take all the time he needs. He’s about to eat in his restaurant, the place he’s poured his heart and soul and savings into.

He nods, and you link your cold fingers with his warm ones at your side.

“Relax, Carm. Tonight is going to be incredible, alright? Just you, me, and some damn good food. We’ll be yapping each others ears off soon enough, and you won’t even be thinking about the service, or what’s happening in the kitchen.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles, squeezing your hand. “Just you and me.”

“The way it’s always been.”

You smile, and the smile you receive back is enough to light up your bones.

“Let’s fucking do this.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Richie seats you at the back of the restaurant, tucked away just out of sight. You’re grateful for the cover, and for the fact that Carmy can’t see into the kitchen.

“You nervous about them doing a night on their own, or about having dinner with me?”

His bright blue eyes snap up to meet yours, head tilting in confusion.

“Nervous?”

“You’re shaking the entire table with your knee, Carmen. I think you might be shaking the entire restaurant, actually.”

You reach out under the tablecloth to place a hand on his leg, his jitters stopping instantly.

“Sorry. Fuck, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“I need to chill the fuck out.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to say it.”

He laughs, then. Loudly. So loudly that Richie spins around to look at the two of you, fighting a smile as he does it. He hasn’t heard that sound coming from Carmy in a long time.

“Okay, okay. I’m relaxed, I swear. Sorry. It’s just, uh… a lot to process, I guess.”

“I get it. Just remember that I’m in the exact same position as you are, alright? I mean, I’m not about to eat dinner in my restaurant, but you get my point.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

“I haven’t heard you apologise this much since I had to get stitches in fifth grade.”

“Oh, shit. Don’t remind me of that, please.”

It’s your turn to laugh now, your entire being lighting up with it.

“I have never seen you look so guilty in my life, Carm. Thought you were gonna cry every time you saw me.”

“Stop,” he groans. “I felt so bad. It was all my fault, and there was so much blood.”

“You didn’t know I was gonna hit my head.”

“Yeah, but I used to forget that I was stronger than you. Especially when I started growing taller.”

“When did that happen? You got taller?”

“You’re such a bitch,” he laughs, kicking your shin under the table.

“Careful, Carm. That might need stitches.”

“I hate you,” he all but yells, beaming grin plastered across his face. “Shut up and decide what you want to drink.”

You pretend to look at the menu, eyes scanning across it.

“This is hard to read.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s a terrible choice of font, Carmen. There’s no way anyone older than sixty is deciphering this.”

He snatches it from your hand, studying it carefully. After a moment of silence, he speaks.

“Fine. It might be a bit difficult to read.”

You feign passing out, sagging back in your chair like an award winning actress.

“You’re apologising, you’re telling me I’m right… who are you, and what have you done with Carmen Berzatto?”

He laughs again, still loud and real. What a joy, to make your best friend throw his head back in amusement after all this time.

“It’s fine. I’ll just get you to redo them.”

“Oh, you will, will you?”

“Of course. It’s your speciality, and it means there’ll be a piece of you in the restaurant too.”

You think about it for a second, holding his gaze.

“Fine. But only if you ask me nicely.”

“Vienna,” he begins, grabbing your hand across the table. “Will you please do me the honour of designing me some new menus?”

“Carm,” you grin, squeezing his fingers. “I would love to. It’d be my pleasure, in fact.”

“Perfect.”

Richie appears, then, smiling like he knows something you don’t.

“Drinks, kids?”

“Two waters, and two wines that’ll go best with dinner, Cousin.”

You nod in agreement, winking at Richie.

“You got it, Boss.”

When he leaves, you turn to Carmen.

“You guys are… good? You and Richie?”

He looks a little taken aback by your question. Bristled, almost.

“Yeah, uh - yeah, we’re… fine. We’re good. Yeah.”

“Sounds it.”

Another kick meets your shin under the table.

“Fuck you, Berzatto. Those fancy leather shoes hurt.”

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Look at me like you’re reading my mind. It’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Real mature, Vi. Real mature.”

Richie appears seemingly out of thin air, placing your drinks on the table. He still has that look on his face.

“Food won’t be long, besties.”

“Besties,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Haven’t heard that in a while.”

“That’s what you always were! The Besties. Honestly, I was always a little jealous. I asked Mikey if we could have a cool nickname for our friendship, but he fuckin’ refused. Asshole.”

The offhand mention of Michael hits you like a punch to the stomach, solid and unflinching. It still makes you want to cry, even after all this time.

“You were always Mikey and Cousin,” you tease, hoping they can’t hear the shake in your voice. “A world famous double act. Never one without the other.”

Richie laughs as he walks away, which in turn makes you smile. He always laughs so wholeheartedly, so fully. It lights up a room.

“I don’t know who’s happier that you’re back - me or him.”

“Oh, definitely him.”

Carmy shakes his head as he chuckles.

“I don’t know about that,” he says quietly, after a minute. “I missed you like hell, Vi.”

“I missed you too,” you murmur, linking your fingers with his atop the table. “I wish you’d answered the phone more.”

“I know. I know. I, uh… I guess I just… I didn’t think you could ever miss me as much as I was missing you.”

“That’s not true,” you whisper, brows furrowed. “That’s not true at all, Carmen. You’d know that if you called. You could have asked, and I would have answered.”

“Yeah, well. Didn’t wanna bother you, I guess.”

“You being my friend isn’t you bothering me, Carm. It’s the exact opposite. That’s kind of the point.”

“Too late now.”

You drop his hand, withdrawing yours into your lap.

“Yeah, it is. Because you were my best friend, and then all of a sudden it was like you didn’t exist. Do you understand that?”

“I thought it would be better-”

“If I lost you and Michael? Because that’s what it fucking felt like, Carmen. He died, and you were gone. Actually, you were gone long before he died, which somehow was worse.”

He doesn’t know what to say - it’s written all over his face. You don’t break his gaze as you sit across from him, the rest of the restaurant unaware of the heated conversation you’re in the middle of.

Richie brings your first course over in silence, as if he’s sensed the change in mood. He places both of your plates down, squeezing your shoulder gently as he walks away.

“You know you’re allowed to love more than one thing, right? You don’t have to choose between food and me, or between food and your family. You never had to choose. No one ever expected you to,” you take a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “And yet, for some reason, you made yourself believe that you did. And you chose food. And I got left in the dark. We all did.”

He goes to speak, but you cut him off before he can.

“There is nothing you can say right now that isn’t going to piss me off. So don’t try.”

You pick up your fork and begin to eat, trying to focus on the food. It’s delicious, admittedly. Not something you’d usually order, but clearly very carefully crafted. When you’ve finished, you look up at Carmy to find him already watching you.

“How was it?”

You consider it for a moment, making him wait.

“It was beautiful.”

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. He values your opinion so much, even if he’d never admit it. His brother used to tease him about it, his constant need for your approval. Even as kids.

He nods, not wanting to step over the line again.

“I don’t want to spend tonight fighting with you, Carmen. We can do that some other time.”

“Can we talk about this properly, though? Later, or tomorrow, or something?”

You chew your lip, tasting slight vanilla from your lip balm.

“Yeah. I think we need to. It’s long overdue.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Yeah. Later. Or tomorrow, or something.”

“Yeah.”

You sit in the silence for a minute, listening to the noise from the restaurant.

“So come on, Carm. Tell me about what’s on this menu tonight.”

He launches into a language you barely understand, but you listen intently anyway. Flavour palettes, texture combinations, acidity and sweetness. You take all of it in, watching the way he lights up with every word.

You wonder if maybe he did make the right choice. Choosing food, instead of you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

@agirlcandream84 @diorrfairy @raging-panda @melancholicmelanin @nolita-fairytale @jacxx2 @huang-the-geek @2guysonascooter @stxxllaaa @an0nym1ss @thereisnoowl @amataadriana @dreamingofleon @gabbycoady13 @stilinskisensation @prongsprincessworld @arieltwvdtohamflash @clairesjointshurt @gnocchisworld @buzzcutlip