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cherubify · 2 days

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SMILE FOR THE CAMERA / LEON KENNEDY

6.1k words

cw: corruption, stalking, doppelganger themes, dirty talk, attempted sa, dubcon, hints of mindbreak/exhibitionism/overstimulation, fingering, creampie, unprotected p-in-v, use of pet names, fellatio, filming, dead dove do not eat, minors dni

a/n: this was written for an anonie's reqqy! it marinated in my wips for a few weeks (mb!) so it feels kinda off to me + i kept changing the title but.. yeah! n special thanks to my trusted beta reader @xoxostarlet!! <3 ok i'll shut up now but enjoy!

There’s a saying out there– something about how there are more than seven people in the world who share the same face as you. Despite possibly living in a distant community, with a foreign tongue and having one’s own idiosyncrasies, there’s someone out there who resembles you. A doppelganger, is what most people called it, right? Leon hasn’t met anyone who looks like him yet, though he’s heard passersby comment on how he looked like a model whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.

It must be a prank pulled by the heavens when they created people, forgetting to register their creations as solely unique individuals and reusing their faces for a recycled project. At least, that’s what he thinks when he finds yet another film, with its poster girl bearing a striking resemblance to the store clerk. A knowing smile crept up his face as he strolled over to the front desk.

You sat behind a long counter, homework precariously piled up as you scribbled your answers onto the papers. A cash register and your laptop accompanied you on your side. He set his selection of the day beside your papers, prompting you to look up.

“This one again? You borrowed it last week, Mr Kennedy,” you commented with a shaky laugh.

The man on the other side of the counter was an older man with a face and body of strong and hard corners everywhere. He was dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie, the hood draped over his side swept dirty blonde hair. Leon was what he told you to call him, but the desire to maintain personal distance led you to calling him by his family name instead.

“What can I say? It’s a good way to kick my feet up.” His arms were folded on the counter as he leaned towards you.

You snorted inwardly. Yeah, kicking your feet up by getting off to these… morbid tapes, huh? You read the summary of all the films he rented before. They were about dark things you’d never want to be involved in. Random films centred around dark plots, such as Stockholm syndrome, hardcore BDSM and the like. Perfect for twisted people with twisted fantasies. But not for you, you were proud to say you lived a mostly peaceful and non traumatised life, and you would keep it that way.

It’s not that you wanted to kink shame; people could watch whatever they wanted. But having to rent out these tapes to a shameless guy like him was uncomfortable. And he was making you feel even more uncomfortable when he waltzed up to the counter, showing you his findings of the day. What a weirdo. At least act a little embarrassed like the other customers, wouldn’t you?

However, you shoved down your grievances and processed his purchase on the register. Once you finished, you passed both the film and a receipt to him. He took it from your grasp, warm fingers brushing against yours. You immediately withdrew your hand and discreetly rubbed your skin raw against your jeans.

Nothing went unnoticed by him, including your poorly hidden disgust. His lips curled on his face, he knew what you were thinking– most people didn’t relax by renting adult films. If only you knew his true intentions. Why he chose this specific film to rent again.

You jabbed the back of the store with your thumb, attention returning to your homework. Beside the staff room and a tiny toilet, there was another door that led to a room: the viewing room. He entered, closing the door behind him softly. It was furnished the same as always: a family sized couch with cushions. No windows or lights, just a single projector, a screen and speakers. A viewing room to watch the store’s rented shows and only that.

Not that he couldn’t view it at home, but he wanted to do it here. In this room, in the back of a store you had no choice but to man alone. He knew the sounds leaked into the hall and into the sales floor. And the actress in this film had impressively exaggerated moans. Which was why he liked this certain film. He knew your face would be distorted with horror as you struggled to put up with it for the next hour. Plus the second hand embarrassment you experienced when other customers entered (not that there were many to begin with).

He chuckled softly whilst setting up the screening. When it began to play, he slumped onto the couch, arms crossed. He knew you noticed the resemblance you shared with the poster girl. Knew the uneasy glances you’d send him whenever you caught him browsing through the adult film section. It was fun pushing your buttons– seeing your innocent face distort with horror, embarrassment, shame whenever you scanned the films he chose. You certainly noticed the increasing resemblance of all the actresses to you. It was clear as day from the tautness in your smile as you forced out a polite ‘thank you’ when he returned the goods.

He tried to focus on the actress on the screen. A girl who shared the same hair colour and clothing style as you. There were some similarities in your faces, but only as far as the curve of your jaw and the curl of your lips. A mismatch in voice, sure, but when the woman on the screen moaned, he wondered if you replicated such a sound. The thought made him swell a little in his sweats. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

Like the girl on screen, he wanted to bend you over a kitchen table as you wore nothing but a frilly apron and underwear. He’d rip your panties off and bury his face between your perfect butt and-

A knock on the door snapped him out of his daze. He paused the show and it creaked open to reveal you, standing hesitantly. Your eyes shifted from him to the screen, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness of the room. You tried to hide the way your eyes flitted from the screen to him. The same old expression on your face as your bottom lip quivered.

“Um… I can hear everything,” you told him- and he knew, but he listened anyway, “It’ll bother the customers, so please keep it down.”

Or go home. He knew those words were on the tip of your tongue. There were no other customers around (probably) but he smiled anyway and complied, just because you asked nicely. He jabbed the volume button once.

“Sure, but maybe a kiss would convince me, darling.” He called out, but you barely heard it over the creaking of the door as you closed it.

Always running away before he could shoot his shot. Like a game of mouse and cat, a fitting analogy considering how you’d tremble in his presence and flee with your metaphorical tail between your legs. He chuckled and resumed the film, the volume a single decibel lower while you sat at the counter, shaking your head.

In your eyes, Leon was a bit of a troublemaker. You weren’t naive enough to be fooled by his clueless facade. You knew that he got a kick out of the distress he put you in when he played his fine selection for the day. He could go home instead– in fact, you had a right to kick him out. But your boss instructed you to be kind to regulars, such as Mr Kennedy here. So what more could you do besides put on your customer service smile and voice? After all, customers were always right. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the amount of trouble he gave you by entering the store. If he pushed any further you were sure to blacklist him from the store for good.

When he came out, you watched hopefully. Hoping that he’d walk out of the door. But then he began searching through the aisles and before you knew it, he set another box onto the counter again. An adult film with its poster girl sitting on a couch sultrily, her hair colour and hair parted the way you did yours. Last time his choice was a girl with the same fashion sense as you. All of his selections consisted of girls that took after you. Quite the strange coincidences, but you chalked it up to just you having run-of-the-mill features.

“Come again,” you grimaced inwardly. You hoped he wouldn't, but when he left he cast you a knowing smile over your shoulder. You groaned aloud, because you knew he would.

You worked at the rental video shop temporarily, home from college for summer break when your pockets were emptier than you recalled. This store was an easy choice, simply because it was right across your apartment complex. The close proximity meant you could just tumble out of bed in the morning and clock in with your pjs. The owner was a decrepit man who was out of town half the time, so he couldn’t be bothered with what was happening except meeting the bare sales requirements.

Retail life was no stranger, but this was the most relaxing it had ever been in your job history. It was a joy working in this store, believe it or not. Truly a pity it was only temporary. No naggy managers or bossy coworkers. Just you and the occasional customer wandering among dusty aisles. Speaking of dust…

You checked the time– a few minutes left before closing. It took a mere second to find Leon, whose blonde’s head peaked above a low row of shelves. You guessed he was sifting through another peculiar genre. So you left him to it as you entered the back and into the staff room. Unbeknownst to you, the front door jingled as someone stepped onto the sales floor.

When you finally returned, you were armed with a step ladder and a duster, the latter missing more than half of its feathers. Despite its haggard appearance, it was clearly not being put to use, apparent from the store’s dust infested furniture. Perhaps the store’s sorry state was a contributory factor for the lack of visitors. You set the ladder down at the front of the store and began dusting from top to bottom.

A cough alerted Leon’s attention to you and he peeked up from the boxes in his hands. You stood precariously on the top, a hand clutched over your nose as you dusted a shelf. From where he stood, he could see cotton peeking from your loose shorts. He set the goods down to grip either side of the ladder’s frame.

“I don’t think this rickety thing’s stable enough for you to use, sweetheart,” he commented, prompting you to look at him. “You should come down before you fall.”

“I’m fine, Mr Kennedy. I’ve got everything under control,” you began cleaning again when you inhaled some dust. Your eyebrows furrowed, then your face crinkled as you sneezed. And ironically you fell. A shout and a thud followed, and you found yourself in his arms.

He had an awkward grip on you, having caught you suddenly with open arms. His arm was wrapped around your thighs and the space below your shoulder blades. The vice grip on the fat of your thighs caused your face to explode with red.

“Oh my god- I’m sorry!” You gasped as you wriggled in his arms, begging to be put down. He yielded and you were onto your feet again. You backed away from him, hands clasped apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you- are you okay?”

He laughed, and it’s an airy, low sound. The regular crossed his arms and leaned against the ladder. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Y-Yeah. But I guess I should throw this out,” you rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.

“Let me,” he offered and he swiftly walked out with it in tow. The entrance jingled before closing behind him as he disappeared.

You rubbed your arms awkwardly, the heat from your face dissipating as you exhaled shakily. Maybe you were wrong about him. Leon was quite a nice guy. Now, if it weren’t for his weird fetishes, maybe you’d give him a chance. You shook your head. What were you thinking? He was just a customer. You sighed and picked up your fallen duster.

You turned your back to an approaching man. Footsteps behind you prompted you to look up, and you expected a blonde but was mistaken. Your face was shoved against a shelf, the old thing creaked as it leaned back then back onto its corners. Your wrists were held behind you by a gloved hand, and you strained to see the perpetrator but the grip on the back of your head prevented you.

“Just stay quiet and it’ll be over soon,” it was a hushed voice, unfamiliar and muffled. “–be a good girl and stay still.”

“Who are you calling a good girl?” You gritted your teeth and struggled against your captor’s hold. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll-”

“Uh uh–” something cold pressed against your neck. Was that… a knife? “–It’d be better if you don’t struggle.”

You froze as the blade dug into the column of your throat. The stranger released your wrists to wander a gloved hand along the curve of your spine. It hurt to swallow, and you struggled to breathe as the molestor’s hand dipped into your shorts. Was this how your summer break would end? An assault in the store you part-timed in for quick cash?

Your train of thought was derailed when a grunt echoed in the store. The blade was withdrawn and clattered onto the floor, and you whirled around to find a masked man collapsed on the floor. Standing behind him was Leon, who swiftly pocketed a gun into a holster on his belt. You gaped at him– has he always carried that on him?

“Are you okay?” Leon stepped over the body to grip your shoulders. His wide eyes scrutinised your smaller frame. “Did he hurt you?”

You looked at his hands then at him, “I… I think I’m alright.”

The man frowned and studied the unconscious man with a hardened expression. He dialled for the cops and filed a brief report. Afterwards, he dragged the molester outside the store, where he tied his wrists to a lamp post. The man was limp throughout, unconscious from whatever Leon had pulled. You clutched your arms as you sat at the cash register, eyes fixated on the counter.

A first aid kit came into view. Leon stood on the other side, a sheepish smile on his lips. “I found this in the back,” he said softly, digging through it. He produced a disinfectant wipe and a bandaid.

Only when he reached out to you did you notice the wound on your neck. It stung, and you gingerly touched it. Beads of blood sat on your finger. It was a little cut that had bled into the collar of your top. He dabbed the swab of disinfectant against the wound, and you hissed. His hand found yours, and he held it as you squirmed in your seat.

“It’ll sting for a bit, but better safe than sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m not a wuss, I can take it- Ow!” You jumped in your seat when he pushed the swab deeper against the cut. The two of you exchanged a look, and the corner of his lips tilted up in amusement. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, lips pursed.

Then he placed a bandaid over the wound and his fingers ghosted over it. “There. All better,” he sighed.

He withdrew his hand except the one in yours. You ogled at the larger hand in yours, at the way his slender fingers were comfortably interlaced with your shaky ones. Just like two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly slotted into one another. You tried to banish the thought. You exhaled softly, and you squeezed your trembling lips together into a feeble smile.

“Thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled back. In that moment, he was all you could see. Not the arrival of the police car outside the store or the officers standing by the criminal, but just him.

A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “So I take it you’re dropping the formalities?”

The blonde was referencing how you always called him by his family name and not his first name. You refused to answer, the faint blush on your cheeks sufficed. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed back.

Leon accompanied you for the rest of the night. He stayed beside you in the police station, drove you back to the store and assisted you in the cleaning duties. Despite the incident, life moved on, and you were responsible for the night duty chores as the sole employee. Areas unaccessible by you were managed by him, and you found yourself appreciating his company. Although he was a creepy regular, he was quite sweet. You didn’t have to force yourself to laugh at his crappy jokes that night.

And though you were pretty sure he shouldn’t know where you lived, you let him accompany you to your doorstep after closing shift. He bid you goodbye with a gentle pat on your head, and you found yourself staring at the place he stood for a while. You sat in your bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest. Water enveloped your body in the cold of midnight, and you leaned your head against the cool tiles. Your eyes were glazed over with tears as you recounted the recent events.

Thank goodness he was there. If Leon hadn’t been there, something terrible would’ve happened. You wanted to see him again. Maybe you’d give him a thank you gift. It’d be only fair, right?

. . .

“What’s business like this week?” He enquired as you scanned the good in your hand. This time he came in with a different colour of sweats, with a stain on the hem of his blue sweater.

It had been a while since you last saw him. Maybe a week since that night.

“Slow,” you sighed, returning the film to him. The colours on the box’s cover were washed out, and the actress was a blurry blob of colours. Her hair colour and body type matched yours, but that was all you could make out. So you chose to close an eye. “My boss is gonna be so mad about the sales.”

“My bad. If it weren’t for work, I’d be here more often,” the blonde commented.

“You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?” You teased, to which he placed a hand over his heart.

“You don’t know half of it, sweetheart.” Your cheeks tingled at the pet name. Wait– what? “The higher ups owe me more breaks.”

You cleared your throat. “Even if you did, don’t you have better places to be?”

“I’d say you make good company,” he grinned boyishly. Your heart fluttered a little. Wow, what was seriously happening to you?

“Anyways-” He tilted the film in his hand, “-wanna watch this together?”

Fat chance. Just because he was growing on you didn’t mean you were ready to sit in a tiny room with him on a couch, just the two of you in the dark. You’d tell him that, but he read your expression independently and laughed. When he disappeared into the viewing room, your attention turned to the register’s screen where an alert had popped up.

Invalid barcode. Please contact staff.

Huh? You copied the barcode number and manually entered it into the system. The same system popup appeared and you scratched your head, confused. Muffled noises leaked into the sales floor and you stepped away from the counter. Maybe he took a show that failed to register in the system?

You stood outside the door and listened. Was now a good time to enter? You hesitated and held the door knob. A soft moan stopped you in your tracks– followed by a whimper and some incoherent noises.

Weird. For a second there it almost sounded like you. Was the actress a sound-alike too?

You finally opened the door, peaking into the room as the door creaked ajar. It was dark as you expected, just the singular beam of light from the projector that shone onto the screen. Strange enough, you found no one on the couch, only a rolling film on screen. Your dilated pupils shifted to the screen, and you practically swung the door open.

A girl– no, it was you. You were on screen. Laying on bed with a fluffy towel crumpled beside you as your body glistened with droplets, courtesy of your bath. A bead of sweat trailed down your nape, dumbfounded as the you from that night had her fingers buried between her trembling legs. Your face was contorted with pleasure, and you bit the back of your hand to stifle your delighted noises.

How? This couldn’t be happening. You wanted to assure yourself that it was fake, but even you knew there was no denying its authenticity. The camera was shaky, and you scrunched up your brows. The angle… you recognised the angle. You were being filmed from your bedroom windows.

The scene abruptly cut to another one, this time it was of you in your bedroom, standing naked before your mirror. Your hands traced your silhouette, hands wandering down your naked body as you inspected yourself in the mirror. Sleepwear and underwear were gathered haphazardly in a pile behind you. A matching set of underwear on your bed.

It felt like a giant ball of cotton was shoved into your mouth; you swallowed dryly. Your feet moved and you stood behind the couch, your knees feeling like they may give out at any moment. This was last week. How did such a creep go unnoticed by you? Who was filming you? And how did all these get into the store? And– You searched the room frantically. Where was Leon?

The door creaked closed, and you found the devil himself blocking the way out. Another clip played on screen, and you pried your eyes from him to look back at it in horror.

“Nicely edited, don’t you think?” His sneakers thumped against the carpet softly. He stood behind you, arms trapping you against the couch from behind. You flinched at the warm breath that fanned your ear. His fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“I think I deserve a round of applause for it.”

“L-Leon…” your voice cracked. You should be screaming and pushing him off, like you did before with that man. This was a similar situation, right? So why was your heart hammering in your chest like this?

“What is it, sweetheart?”

His voice was a low murmur against your ear, and you shivered. His voice sounded like it was literally in your head, reverberating in the cavern of your mind. Your breath hitched as a warm hand slid under your shirt.

He unclasped your bra with ease, and his hands slid under it to gently cup the curves of your chest. His hands engulfed them easily, and he fondled them half-heartedly while pressing soft kisses along the column of your neck. His lips grazed over the scabbed wound, and you gripped the couch to stabilise yourself.

You should hate it, but your voice failed to protest when he led you to the couch to lay down. He bundled the hem of your top into your mouth, muffling your squeaks when he slipped his hands underneath your loose bra to run his fingers along the circumference of your areola. His thumbs prodded at your nipples, and you squirmed a little at the tingling sensations running along your chest. He pushed your bra aside and flicked his tongue against one of your nipples. Your fingers gripped the blonde’s tresses whilst he teased your perky buds with his warm tongue, lapping at them painfully slowly.

Leon’s other hand traced down your body until he reached your bottoms. He tugged it off your legs, throwing it behind his shoulder. His fingers wandered to the gusset of your panties where a damp patch had formed. The regular stroked your slit through the thin cloth, and you whimpered softly at his ministrations. All the while his eyes were fixated on you, never looking away as he licked your chest like a starving pup begging for milk.

He pulled your panties aside to squeeze a finger into your tightness, and your gaze shifted to where he was connected to you. A finger disappeared into you, and you squeezed your thighs in disapproval as he tried to fit another. Not that it could stop him when he forced into you one more, and you trembled at the stretch from his digits. The blonde wrapped his tongue around one of the swollen buds on your chest, his free hand pinching and tugging on the other.

“Mhnn,” you hummed softly. Moisture clung to your lashes.The intensity in his baby blues beckoned you into the brink of your sanity, and you threw your head back to guard yourself against his tempting call.

“Don’t be shy,” he withdrew from your chest with a pop. He tugged your top out of your mouth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Moan for me.”

His padded fingers prodded inside you experimentally , and a certain spot elicited an embarrassingly loud mewl. The blonde grinned boyishly as he fingered that gummy spot, jamming into it harder and deeper with each cry he drew out of you. Biting the back of your hand, your lashes fluttered unsteadily as you twisted and turned, a strange feeling pulsating deep within you. Your hand found purchase in his hair again, tugging on his silky strands in a silent plea. Whether to stop or for more, only god knew.

But then he stopped, and the heat from his body dissipated. You opened your eyes to see the man shed his sweater, pulling the navy blue article over his scarred body. With a shaky hand, you placed your hand over a scar on his chest and traced the protruding tissue. You frowned- what he had gone through to amass the plethora of scars before you?

The jingling of his belt tore your attention back to his torso. He tugged his pants down to reveal the bulging outline of his hard-on through his boxers. You didn’t mean to stare, but you struggled to tear your eyes away and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He carded his bangs with his fingers, pushing them back as he smirked.

“Like what you see? ‘Cuz my eyes are up here.”

Your ears were hot, and you held your breath as he pressed a kiss to your knee. Then he kissed the inside of your thighs until he reached your clothed core, to the drenched gusset of your panties. His lips quirk up in a pleased smirk, and he kissed it before tugging your panties off. It landed atop your long forgotten bottoms, and he swept them off the couch and they crumpled onto the floor.

He planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you underneath him. But for some reason you weren’t scared, no, your heart pounded in anticipation when he leaned in. Maybe you wanted this all along, and you stared into his deep blue eyes when fists suddenly pounded on the door. The thuds echoed in the viewing room, and the both of you jumped.

“Excuse me? Hello…? Is anyone around?”

Your eyes flitted to the door and at the knob as it jingled. But Leon had locked it earlier- thank god- and the customer repeated their question once more. You hesitated before opening your mouth, but he clamped his hand over your lips. You shot him a look, but he answered you with a deep kiss. His plush lips tangled with yours, biting and gnawing on the softness of your own. His kiss was like the ocean, an uncharted wonder that submerged you deeper and deeper with each press of his lips against yours. No thoughts resided in your head, all you could think about was him and his warmth.

Meanwhile, he pushed the back of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. The weight of his upper body sandwiched them to your swollen chest, and he ran a finger between your sticky folds before finally slipping in.

He growled against the corner of your lips, and your nails wandered along his back. Pink crescents glowed red as you dug your nails under his shoulder blades, and you whimpered softly. The stretch hurt more than it did with his fingers. He shushed your cries with saliva stained kisses along the corners of your mouth. A sweet haze swirled in your mind, muffling the knocking on the door in favour of the groans from the man sandwiching you to the couch.

“Fuck-” he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. He was finally hilted within you. His hips stuttered and he struggled to unsheathe himself. He mumbled something into your skin, a hand gripping the back of your knees for support. He withdrew until there was only the tip left, then he slowly filled you up again. Over and over, he plunged deep and slow, drawing pretty moans from you. Soft plapping noises filled the room, a sound barely registered by you in your haze.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” the blonde murmured, his grip on your knees bruising. Strings of drool dribbled down your chin as you laid there limply for him to use. He weakly slapped your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Look at you. Too drunk on my cock to think.”

Leon chuckled lowly, and you squealed when he slapped your clit. You clenched him harder, and he cursed as you throbbed around him. The veins running along his length pulsated angrily against your gummy confines, and he grabbed your chin to peer into your clouded eyes.

“You’re practically begging me to cum inside, sweetheart. You’d like that, yeah? Mhn… I know you would. Such a dirty slut. All mine.”

He dragged his tongue along the outline of your jaw, and you met his tongue with yours in an open mouthed kiss. His name was a broken song, rising in pitch as an overwhelming sensation escalated with each press of his pelvis against your clit. When you finally broke, you cried out in desperation and you came hard around him. He fucked you through your high, uncaring about the overstimulation racking your body as you convulsed underneath him. His pleasure would become yours, whether you liked it or not. When the thread in his abdomen finally snapped, he stuffed himself to the base and emptied his spent into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, lulling you into sleep when his voice tugged you awake. He stood beside the couch, phone in hand. A sleazy grin played on his swollen lips.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.”

You blearily raised a peace sign, the hem of your top between your teeth, bra hanging loosely. Uncaring of the cum and sweat all over your body, you managed a timid smile as the camera flashed. He snapped a photo and sunk into the seat beside you. A commemoration for today, and a little something for him (and you, if you’d like him to send it to you) to remember it.

You crawled over, nestling your head on his chest as your eyelids drooped close. Would your body suffice as a thank you for saving you that day? You hoped he’d ask for more. You nuzzled into the warmth of his chest.

Meanwhile, Leon inspected the pixelated photo. He was deeply pleased with his work, and he kissed the top of your head. You were slipping into a plane of unconsciousness, and he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.

“That’s my girl.”

. . .

“Use your tongue,” He whispered. The heavy hand on your head stroked your hair tenderly, and you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. He laid on his back, on the couch as you knelt between his spread legs.

The projector had long stopped rolling its film, and a single beam of white light illuminated the viewing room. Who knew how much time had passed. All that mattered was pleasing him, so that you could earn his smile, and if you were lucky, his attention.

He clenched his teeth as your canines grazed his pulsing veins. You licked his tip apologetically, earning a low chuckle from him. Your stomach fluttered at the sound, and you closed your eyes as you continued nursing him with your tongue.

“That’s it,” he hissed. He tightened his grip on his phone, and his screen reflected you in it. A red icon incessantly blinked in the upper corner of the screen. In the darkness, a smile snuck onto his face, “Show me what that mouth can do.”

(BONUS)

A month. That was all the rest days he had accumulated after slaving away as the government’s killing machine for the past year. It was non negotiable, so he was going to make the best out of it- and he planned to burn through cheap booze and rewatching classics.

So Leon found himself in a rental video store, a bag in his calloused grip clunking with cans of cold beer, condensation clinging to the insides of the cheap plastic bag. He wandered along the aisles as an old fan nailed to the ceiling rotated in semicircles. The blades whirred at snail's pace, practically useless as even the dust sitting on top of the shelves barely flinched. Sun rays filtered in from the space between the top of the shelves and the glass walls. White light from the rows of blinking LED lights above lit up the dinghy shop. The store was quiet and unmanned, and as he stood at the counter, eyes searching for the clerk, the bell hanging above the door chimed as it swung open.

A young woman, he raised a curious brow- why was she working in a place like this? You were dressed in skimpy pyjamas when you burst in. Your hair was barely tied up, face bare skinned and lips cracking. You licked them nervously when your eyes fell on him- and he stared expectantly at you.

“I’m so sorry!” You cried as you scrambled to the other side of the counter. “I had to leave the store unattended for a moment- Please don’t tell my boss.”

Fumbling, you tapped buttons onto the register. Something must have gone wrong, because you cursed under your breath. Then you pushed your hair out of your eyes to meet his.

“I just got here,” he lied. He had waited for a while, staring at the cracks on the ceiling and at the clock with frozen hands. He was about to walk out without the tapes, even. But your frantic expression proved to be an amusing display, and he found himself smiling politely. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you so much.” You heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. You scanned his selections when your brows perked up, “Titanic? Didn’t know we had this.”

“Aren’t you working here?” Leon teased, and your cheeks flushed. Cute. He leaned in subconsciously as you flustered.

“W-Well, it’s my second day. I still don’t know where most things go- But I know we have classics and plenty of other… stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” He laughed, and it was an airy one that deepened your blush.

You cleared your throat and swatted the air beside you, “You know, adult films and all. The geezer that owns this store has quite the collection.” You gestured at the back with your hand.

“Come back and take a looksie when you’re free, mister. It’ll be of great help. Y’know, for our sales,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said as he took the goods from you. He offered a friendly smile, and you smiled back. Really cute, he figured. So he promised to return.

He kept his word and returned after a single day. How could he not when you bid him goodbye, all smiles and giddy with gratitude. Did this job mean that much to you? He decided he’d spend some of his time watching more films then, since what else could he possibly do besides bar hopping for skirts and getting blacked out drunk at home? Plus, it was ridiculously cheap to rent these films, an actual steal.

As he wandered in the back, his eyes fell on a strange box with a cursive font. His curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up and stared at the model in the front. A woman with the same hair colour as you, the sole worker in this drab store. A knowing smile crept onto Leon’s face.

all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.

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sserasin · 2 days

Note

thoughts on overly possessive jake who just wants you all to himself even if that means locking you away from the world..

dead dove do not eat

jake feels like he should feel guilty about the way he feels, but his mind convinces him that he’s done so much for you, it’s only right. it really begins when he got tired of too many people flirting with you. he hates that you’re so desirable, it just makes him want you even more. he never thought of himself as a jealous boyfriend until you. he won’t lose you to anyone else. he can’t. you’re his, and he is yours.

it’s not hard to isolate you from your friends and family when you’re going back to college, and with a few little ‘white lies’ here and there, he has you when he wants you. every time you get close to someone in a class, he’s there to ruin it. of course, without you knowing.

you don’t even realize what jake’s done to you until you’re too far in deep, too busy with school and being stuck at home. he doesn’t let you work, you don’t have any friends, and he makes sure he consumes your thoughts 24/7.

#jake.txt #enha.txt #writing.txt #enhypen smut #jake sim smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #dead dove do not eat #enhypen x reader #dead dove fic #jake smut

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divinedolliebun · 2 days

Text

𝘠𝘢𝘯! 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘰! 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2♡

(𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘚: 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘋𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘋𝘖 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘛!!!𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘥𝘶𝘣𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪��𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯(𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘨), 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘰, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴!!!)

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶...

𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘤𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 24/7....

𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯...𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘈𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩!!! 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 ♡

𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱-𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶!

𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰'𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳...𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘵, 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴...𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴...𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺....

𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘺 2 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦. 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮. "𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺?" 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. "𝘊𝘩𝘰...𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦." 𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. "𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥?"

"𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦. 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴? 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧? 𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺.

#choso x you #choso x reader #choso x female reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #tw pregnancy #tw stepcest #chubby reader #fem reader #choso smut #choso fluff #jjk dark content

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astr0exe · 1 day

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gonna post this once and once only

i write what i write because i want to

you consume your own media

i do not force you to read my works

read what you want

block me if you don’t like my work

i have ppl who like my work

m not gonna stop writing js bc some ppl dont like it :)

idc if i get backlash for my writings lol i choose what i write n u choose what u read

#cas speaks #x trans male reader #cod x reader #x transmasc reader #cod x male reader #cod fanfic #cod smut #ghost smut #captain price smut #simon riley x reader #soap smut #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig x reader #dead dove do not eat

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theredofoctober · 1 day

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MANNA- CHAPTER FOURTEEN: TRIPE

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, child abuse and more (check the tags)

Read after the cut

By some sense of duty, or else an undug tendril of guilt, Will volunteers himself to oversee your evening routine alone. You allow him this, being in scant possession of what slim tolerance has borne you through Hannibal’s accompaniment thus far.

Will proves himself to be far less involved than the other man would have been in his stead. He leans against a wall with the nonchalance of a prison warden as you shower blood and spend alike down the receiving drain, allows you to pad into your bedroom, towel-wrapped, to select a clean nightdress and sanitary products with his head turned nobly aside.

You cannot determine if his distance from you is through respect for your condition or some lasting dislike of you, neither of which holds entirely true.

More likely it is that he does not see you as his child, yet, nor quite with the equality of a lover.

Still, as you get into bed he cannot help but come to you, uncertain as he his of his purpose.

“Will you give me a goodnight kiss?” you ask, part in bitter jest, and part in annoyance with his indecision.

That a man can fuck and beat you in throes of black delight and still skulk about like a repentant sinner would have confounded you in the days before you became accustomed to such duality. To what end, and upon what strength the latter side subsists is now the greater puzzle, for it is this that drags its heels and restrains Will from his full devilry.

“Well?” you say, brusquely. “What are you waiting for? Dad’s permission?”

Will gives a hard laugh, one hand kneading the back of his neck.

“I admire your commitment to the part, but you don’t have to keep it up so seriously when it’s just you and me.”

“I promised I would,” you remind him. “Why can’t you? You had no issue kissing me in front of Hannibal. I don’t see why it’s a problem now.”

You see Will’s fingers go to the bridge of his nose, wanting the guard of the eyeglasses he’s neglected to wear.

“It’s not genuine,” he says, flatly. “The only reason you’re asking is to manipulate me.”

“So what?” you say. “Scared that it’ll work?”

“Not scared, no.”

“Sure you’re not.”

There is something hysterical in your tone, the cut string of a trapped and weary madness.

Will examines you, aware of the power play you’re attempting over him, intrigued by it, despite himself. Attracted, even.

His gaze is like a stone in the sun, all heat, all black, all blue.

He knows what revulsion you must push past to test him like this, still slightly high from the forced euphoria of fucking, and the drugs. You’re beyond consideration of the consequences, irrational, barely attached to the tongue and teeth that bite at the air in their ire.

Still Will hangs from your words like a pilgrim knelt before an oracle, dependent on your answer.

“Haven’t you had enough of me kissing you tonight?” he asks.

Sniffing, you turn to face his gargoyle shadow on the wall.

“So it’s a no. You’d make a really terrible father.”

“One...”

“Not my name.”

So Will says it, gently, and you roll back towards him, your heart quick and high behind a rail of bone with the thrill of his appeasement.

Your truce, the union of flesh: they’ve altered Will, for as he looks at you a second time his pupils are the chasms between worlds, wild and deep.

Kneeling up on the bed, you make a trellis of both hands through his curls and clutch him to you in an ungainly kiss. Will stumbles in the force of it, his arms spilling about your back so as not to fall upon you with all his weight.

You gasp against his lips with eagerness to take what he has taken, to fallow the rose flesh of his inner mouth, the lathe of your tongue churning. Will is too surprised to kiss you in return, but as you hitch one leg after the other upon his hips you feel the vine of him against your groin, wanting you again, as always.

You think of him fucking you now, pinning your wicked hands with the nail of his fist as he thrusts through a sheen of blood. Though you despise him still, your loins smart with interest in engineering the act rather than merely suffering it as ever before.

At last Will returns your kiss, but briefly, and with a knowing restraint before he lays you back upon the bed again.

You grasp at his face in an attempt to reclaim his lips. He pushes you lightly away.

“Hey,” he grins. “You made your point.”

“Oh?” you say, coolly. “And what is my point?”

“That I like kissing you. That I want to kiss you, whether Hannibal’s here or not.”

“Right,” you say, twisting a corner of your quilt around one finger for something to do with your hands. “But you never would have picked me. Like, if I was in one of your FBI classes. If I was your student. Would you even have noticed me?”

Will laughs again, with a startled unease, as though the notion is foreign to him.

“Starting affairs with students isn’t exactly my style. I turn up, I teach. That’s it. I don’t get personally involved. Or didn’t, till now. Letting people get close is... uncomfortable for me.”

He glances down at the bunch of quilt in your closed knuckles. Unlike the ever-tactile Dr Lecter, he makes no attempt to take it away.

“So how come you got so close to Hannibal?” you ask. “Didn’t you say you had reservations about him?”

“He saw me even when I was making an effort to turn away. He and I have commonalities I can’t ignore, and enough differences to keep me wondering who he really is. There’s a lot even I don’t know about him, and there are times I wonder what I’m doing letting him in.”

You’re on the verge of another question as Will steps sharply back from the bed.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll still be here in the morning. But if you want my thoughts about Hannibal then it’s only fair that you tell me a little about you in return. If this is going to work long-term I need to know who you are.”

Then he goes over to the light switch and closes you in behind a shutter of night.

You’re roused from the saccharine heat of your bedcovers the following morning by Will rapping on your bedroom door. His face appears in the crevice between it and the frame as though wary to trespass, the broken spell of your desperation in his eyes.

“It’s so early,” you whine, noting the bare line of sunlight beneath the curtains. “And I feel like death, thanks to you and Dad. Can’t I stay in bed?”

“Hannibal just rushed out to an emergency appointment,” says Will. “One of his patients is having some kind of crisis, so it’ll be just you and me for a while. You want coffee? I was about to make some.”

An apology, you think, something to alleviate the swaddled and perspiring misery of your comedown.

“Sure,” you say, weakly. “Black, please. Sweetener, if there is any. The low calorie version.”

Will’s brows rise.

“You think Hannibal keeps that around?”

Reflecting on the little paper sachets that had been favoured throughout high school you say, “Ha. I guess not.”

Within twenty minutes you’re sitting up against your pillows, one hand gripping a delicate, steaming cup, the other soothing your stomach through which bites the first monthly cramp.

Will takes a nearby chair, eyeing the bars on your window as though assuming your daily view through the glass.

Though you loathe him still in his unpredictable oddities, you’re keen to make closer yet the allyship you’ve struck up with him, watchful though he is of that very attempt. If he will not help you escape, then a friendship at least may fortify the sanity you fear will leave you in this quasi childhood.

Will doesn’t seek your regression quite as Hannibal does— a cantankerous teenager is as young as he perceives you, the sick girl that never grew up. This house, then, is a Neverland in reverse, a sumptuous den of brutal sex.

Closing your eyes against such thoughts, you take in your coffee, each dark mouthful a long-acquired taste. You remember forcing back cup after cup of it, trusting it over plain water in the belief that it would burn calories as you drank.

Suddenly you’re acutely nostalgic for the days spent in your childhood room, scrolling through online threads of ailing young women in a community of mutual suffering.

It occurs to you that you may never feel so entirely comprehended without judgement as you were there again. You understand Will rather more through the thought, his convergence with Hannibal a relief to so lonely a monster.

“Tell me about ‘Dad’,” you say, into the silence. “You said you would, last night. Like, who even is he? Where did he come from?”

Will blinks, stirred up from his own brooding thoughts. In the dreary daylight he has the face of a beautiful invalid, all its angles skirted in shade.

“Hannibal’s from Lithuania, originally,” he says. “He had a younger sister, Mischa. She died a long time ago. I don’t know the finer details of what happened to her. She’s the only family he’s ever talked about, and even then it’s been bare bones.”

You sit up straighter, envisioning a young girl with Hannibal’s eyes, and none of his appetite.

“Huh,” you say. “That makes a lot of sense.”

"Hannibal would disagree. He doesn’t put much stock in the past making him who he is.”

“Seems kind of a weird thing for a therapist to say. He’s always digging into mine.”

Will looks at the floor, as though distinguishing some new pattern from the grains in the carpet.

“Hannibal views himself as... separate from other people. Being that he acts outside of ethics and the law in his own profession, I’d guess that what’s between us isn’t his only secret.”

“I’ve tried to tell you,” you say, tapping your coffee cup with bitten fingertips for emphasis. “I’ve known this for so long. But since you’re going along with his games how can you even judge him for whatever horrible things he’s doing?”

“Without knowing what he has or hasn’t done,” says Will, slowly, “I can’t say that I do.”

He gets up from his seat and paces before the window, his hands gesticulating like pigeons frenzied into startled flight.

“You assume that what I’m trying to learn about Hannibal—the core of who he is—is something ugly. But that isn’t what I’m afraid of. It’s the possibility of him lying to me. I don’t know if I could forgive him for that after the bond we’ve made. After what he encouraged me start with you.”

“You shouldn’t trust him,” you say, urgently. “Don’t. You don’t need him.”

Scoffing, Will says, “Jack seems to think I do. Alana— she’s convinced I’m one nudge away from disappearing so far into a case that I kill someone without even knowing it. Hannibal's the only one that doesn’t think of me as broken.”

You consider informing him of his suspected encephalitis, that Hannibal surely withholds this truth and more so as to keep his favour.

In the end you retain your silence; better that Will discovers the manipulation alone and behold how he has been misled upon this trail of darkness.

“Enough about me,” says Will, abruptly. “I know that someone hurt you, long before Hannibal. Before me. Someone you've never forgotten.”

Alarmed by the twist in conversation, you stammer, “I— I already told him some of it. I said I didn’t remember. But I was lying about that. I just don’t know if it was only one, long night, or it happened other times. I don’t know which is worse.”

You pause, slightly breathless. Like a portent from the white lips of some phantom you know that you must tell Will the truth, adhere him to your weeping heart with empathy for you.

“I was just a little kid,” you say. “And he was an adult. Nearly family— I used to call him Uncle Lee. Hannibal probably told you that. Anyway, I got my ‘wrong’ feeling about him way before he did what he did. Like I knew it was coming. Then he came into my room alone one night and... it happened.”

You put down your coffee cup, almost knocking it from the bedside table with the shaking of your hand. Will comes away from the window at once, dragging his chair to your bedside to listen. He neither speaks nor looks into your eyes, aware that you can bear neither without faltering.

“He touched me,” you say, “and the whole time I couldn’t even face him. I don’t even remember what I felt. Maybe I didn’t feel anything at all. Just stared at the ceiling or whatever. He did stuff to me that changed me forever. I felt like a tiny old person in a kid’s body, after that, knowing about things I wasn’t supposed to know.

“And the worst of it was still having to see him after. My parents— I tried to tell them, but I couldn’t get the words out. They just thought I didn’t like him. So he came back to the house, now and then. Never saw any consequences.

“I’ve always wondered if I was the only one, or if there were others. He was a plumber, or something; he could have access to people’s daughters anytime he wanted. Just walk into their room and... you know. I think maybe he did do that, a couple of times. Who knows.”

Your restless fingers pick at the gold embroidery on your bedspread, working it loose from the velvet. One of Will’s hands folds over yours, gently holding them still.

“What I always think about is how he treated me, afterwards,” you say. “I tried avoiding him, but it didn’t always work. One day he cornered me at the top of the stairs— my parents were in the kitchen, so it was just me and him.

“I must have been maybe twelve or so. Not far off thirteen. My body was changing. I was growing up. He said, ‘you’re getting a little chubby, you know. You ought to do something about that before you look like your mother.’

“Then he smiled at me, and just walked into the bathroom like there was nothing wrong with what had just come out of his mouth, or what he’d done to me all those years ago.”

Inhaling an unsteady breath, you try, with dubious success, to smile.

“So now you get why I’m like this. And knowing it wasn’t my fault, that Leland Frost is just a predator... it doesn’t fix anything. Like, where do I go from there?”

“He injured you,” says Will, softly. “And it may never stop hurting. But you can recover. No matter what you believe, it is possible. His shallow cruelty is not your compass. You don’t have to live on the basis of an insult.”

Scowling, you pull away from Will, trapping your hands under your armpits.

“How can I change when I’m reliving what I went through every day? Why does Hannibal think this’ll heal me? Why do you? Oh, yeah. You don’t.”

“I want it to,” says Will.

You snort dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. Not so long ago you would have punched the air to see the back of me. You don’t want to share Hannibal with anybody.”

Will leans back in his seat, arms folded; it takes a moment for you to register that he is, by some subconscious impulse, copying your posture.

“I’m not sharing Hannibal with you,” says Will. “I’m sharing you with him. And I want to do that. You knew it before I did.”

His gaze snaps to yours, more arresting than his hands on you had been.

“You’re more like me than I cared to admit. Hannibal was right about that. And though everything about you should repulse his sensibilities he finds you adorable. You clearly don’t appreciate it, but there it is.”

You yearn to deny him, to condemn this speech as sophistry, but you are silent, as much a congregant to him as he has been to you.

“Leland Frost tore you down because he saw that you were growing up and away from him,” says Will. “He knew that one day you’d have a life, and achievements, and people that really cared about you. He was going to fade out of your world, and he couldn’t stand not leaving a mark.”

“I just don’t get it,” you whisper. “He loved me. Why did he do it?”

Will shifts his chair even closer to the bed so as to lean into you, his expression tender, tragic, sombre with a father’s sympathy.

“Leland never loved you, and that’s no reflection on you or your worth. It makes him weak, that he could throw away the relationship he had with you over an urge.”

You don’t have the strength to rage against the whited sepulchre in Will, not when he speaks the truth you’ve always yearned to hear from another. Pain winds through your body, throat to gut, great, twisting pulses, as though eviscerated on a blade of past.

What advice would Will give for you to survive what he and Hannibal have done, and will do?

Nothing. Not a word. He knows that the structure of the home, even comfort from those that afflict you has changed you in so short a time. Your desperation to be gone from him he senses, too, and with it your lust to be loved.

Will holds your hand for a long time before he speaks again, on another subject quite as dreary as the last.

“When you said it’d been years since you...”

“Since I last had my period?” you ask, touching your stomach through the sheets. “Yeah. It has been.”

Your body, the betrayer, making a scarlet banner of your betterment through cruelty.

“I never wanted it to come back. Having it again means I’m not as sick anymore, and that’s like... messing up for me.”

Will's head tilts, his face carved up by the shadows thrown from your barred window into a lattice of snow.

“Failing to die is barely a failure at all,” he comments.

You shrug yourself further under your bedcovers.

“It is if what’s happening to you is something worse,”

“Is it always so bad, being here with us?”

Will’s hand rises. Doesn’t quite touch your face. You turn your head away, but not cruelly; he’s not a bad man, you decide, only contorted so utterly from the ways of his fellows that he is some creature other, or from before, the flint-armed hunter of the caves.

And like such a creature, he seeks your answering affection for want of some warmth in the dark beginning of the earth.

You allow him to kiss your forehead, clumsily, inclined towards him as though you were not both aware of the fiction that allows this contact.

He can only guess how far you’d run from this, had you your chance. How readily you’d betray him.

You’re much recovered by the time Dr Lecter returns, having been hydrated and energised by a selection of unnamed supplements Will had you take with lunch; there is a cure for every ailment in the makeshift laboratory of the kitchen, it seems.

Hannibal discovers you at your usual perch of the parlour couch, writing in your journal with a blanket tucked loosely around you against the October cool.

Will stands to greet his companion, setting aside a book you’d offered him from your shelf to peruse, its cover depicting the bloody half-brain of the sun on a desert horizon.

“I didn’t expect our charge to be in such high spirits,” says Hannibal, with unmasked surprise. “Thank you for caring for her this morning, Will. I’m aware that whatever time you can spare for us in the midst of an investigation is very precious.”

Likely aware of your eyes on him, Will says, “I’m glad I stayed. I appreciated the company. How’s the other patient?”

“Suitably quieted. I doubt that I’ll be called away again on her behalf. Still, I made the most of the journey home.”

Hannibal reaches into a shopping bag looped over one arm and produces from it a wrapped package of fresh meat, marbling the paper with blood.

Grimacing, you say, “Ew. What is that? Looks like an organ.”

“It is. I’ll be making trippa alla romana tonight. It’s an Italian dish made from cow stomach. Don’t turn your nose up till you’ve tried it. Have I served anything to you yet that you haven’t enjoyed?”

After dinner, all three of the household recline, full and talking lazily before the fire. Had your company been any other than your abusers you would almost be content, for having been allowed to leave the table after a valiant half plate you are not so guilt-soaked as you’d have been had you finished it all.

You had, in fact, disliked the meal, a first in Hannibal’s house. The thought of the organ, plucked from the rib of a butcher’s shelf, had struck bile to the back of your mouth from the first bite.

A cup of chocolate, warmed to a froth and unadorned with cream is set in your hands instead, which you drink in feline licks to make it last.

Will’s phone shrills abruptly in his pocket. Frowning, he glances at the lighted oblong of its screen and starts at a familiar name.

“It’s Jack,” he says. “I’d better take this.”

He promptly exits the room, speaking with clipped tones into the device.

Alone with Hannibal, you become acutely aware of him looking at you, not quite with suspicion, but not so far from that.

"I see that you and Will are becoming close,” he says, at last. “I’m glad to see it.”

Humming vaguely, you snatch up the journal again and weave your pen about in a pretence of writing.

Hannibal says, "Still, it saddens me that—for all your pretty words of promise—you display a lesser willingness to befriend me.”

You do not answer, pressing your pen so hard against a page that it blots through to the other side.

"Put your journal down a moment, Little One,” says Hannibal. “I’m speaking to you."

Without looking up, you answer, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You needn't say anything at all. It's your behaviour I wish to change."

In a flounce of irritation you throw the journal upon the floor, its spine creasing.

“I do what you say, and I don't fight you anymore,” you say. “Isn't that daughterly enough?"

"For the purposes of your treatment,” says Hannibal, “it is not. You remain closed to me, parted only by narcotic aid. I'd prefer you to open to me of your own volition. With Will, you prove yourself increasingly capable of that.

“I’ve given you all you’ve asked for, and more, and yet you show little gratitude. I wouldn’t wish to remove these luxuries for you to appreciate my endeavours.”

You look at him, then, this man both jealous and performing jealousy to groom you into his concubine, and in looking see that he will deconstruct your room into the barest cell, should he not have his way.

"I do appreciate what you’ve given me," you hastily protest. "I do, Daddy. You don’t have to take anything away. But I— I just don’t know you the way I know Will.”

“But you do,” says Hannibal, rising to sit beside you, a dangerous proximity. “That’s why you are so afraid of me, is it not?”

You begin to object, trailing off at the sound of approaching footfalls as the younger of your captors returns, listing in the churning swell of stress.

“It's the investigation,” says Will. “Another doll’s been found. Savannah Belmont. It’s too soon to be the Lover’s kill. He has a cool off point between each abduction.”

Hannibal straightens in his seat, rapidly alert.

“A copycat, then.”

Will nods, his throat tightening. His eyes touch your face briefly, and you offer him a small, close-lipped smile, an extension of comfort from across the room. His shoulders drop from their rigid line, and when he speaks again the frantic note in his voice is tempered slightly.

“Definitely a copycat,” he says. “The Lover disposes of the dolls by throwing them into rivers like garbage. No attempt to lay them to rest. Savannah was put on display, placed in a chair on a dirt bank as though she was waiting to be found.

“Both killers meant to degrade their victims, but only the copycat’s is implied to understand and accept that humiliation. Savannah Belmont died aware of her inferiority in the eyes of her murderer.”

You find yourself sitting on your hands to prevent them from betraying your agitation with their unsteadiness. Your leg, however, you cannot control, the right foot gyring an inch above the floor.

Hannibal eyes it without speaking, folding your reaction into the lengthy tome of his mind.

“The victim’s stomach was missing,” says Will, turning to pluck a bottle of whiskey from a nearby cabinet like some bronze fruit. “That’s new. The Lover’s mutilations are all with the purpose of fitting the bodies of his victims inside their silicone casings. He has no surgical skills.

“This new killer obviously has expertise. Savannah’s stomach was cut precisely from her body with the clear intent of taking it as a trophy.”

“Her stomach?” you repeat.

You feel the heaviness of meat within you and are chilled by the coincidence.

Hannibal could not have known what the copycat would take to reference it, could not have known of his existence to begin with, and yet as you glance at him under your lashes you don’t quite trust the seriousness of his expression, his eyes gleaming dimly as tarmac in the rain.

“You mustn’t worry, Little One,” says Hannibal, turning to lift you up onto his lap. “The Lover can’t hurt you. We will protect you, always.”

He settles your head against his chest, which resounds with the slow beat of his heart and the machinery of organs digesting his own rich meal.

The monster knows of your renewed distrust and is unthreatened by it, declawed and tooth-filed as you are by his influence over you and all the passageways of the world you’d otherwise cross in your escape.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy,” you mutter, against his shirt, and the warmth of Hannibal’s palm cups your buttocks with a tormenting friction, both threat and tease at once.

While you hate him—are in terror of him, always—your form is increasingly enamoured by his touch as though it knows that it must be so, or die.

“No need to thank me for performing my duty to you, Little One,” says Hannibal, into your ear. “For you belong to me, and to Will, and you must never forget it.”

#manna fic #hannibal fic #tw noncon #tw csa #tw abuse #tw drugs #tw captivity #dead dove do not eat #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #darkfic

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hitachiincest · 2 days

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theres drama rn on twitter w a yuri fan/yuri fans getting angry at yaoi writers bc 'there should b more [for the] yuri instead' & acting up & insinuating misogyny, etc etc & u kno what? if yuri fans want ppl to write more f/f fics, alright then, so be it! they didnt specify what kind tho... ^_^ *finger of the monkey's paw curls in as the dove begins to die*

#idk how to tag this... uh.#dead dove do not eat #proship #crosspost from my twitter [except now w added context for ppl who arent privy to the happenings of the birdsite]#unfortunately this is just me making a Joke 😔 most of what i watch is 99% male cast so i have very few problematic f/f ships whompwhomp #i LOVE genderswaps but id rather just write the original in most cases. HOWEVER ! i think those ppl w toxic yuri ships should pull a Funny #& write more then have ppl be like 'NO WAIT! NOT THAT GROSS TYPE OF YURI!!!' lol #overgrowth.text

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veryrealauthorthings · 2 days

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#writing #writing memes #writing life #writing community #author memes #writers on tumblr #author life #writers #meme #veryrealauthorthings #original character #my ocs are ruining my life #on fanfiction #a03 #a03 fic #writing fanfic #fanfic writers #dead dove do not eat

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cookie-crumblr · 3 days

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Lucky

Shy M!Reader x F!Yandere OC

Part 1~

Her Info: 🪓

Next Part>>>

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: M! Reader, Reader has a penis, Reader referred to as he/him, psychological horror/trauma, reader is on meds for night terrors, blood, implied sh on FL, oral on M!, explicit language, partial handjob on M!, exhibitionism, non con cumplay, reader voms(not described), overstim, not proofread.

song rec: Personal Pornstar by Bludnymph <3 (lol it’s not the MOST fitting for this part, but i had it on replay for like 5 days and it’s def playing in Lucy’s lil head too)

anything in red reader isn’t aware of.

Your room is pitch black in a block wide black out and something… Smells off? There’s a rusty tang in the air. You try to close your eyes anyway. It’s just your imagination. It’s always just your imagination. That’s what they’ve always told you.

Why does your room always smell metallic?

It’s fake.

It’s not real.

Sometimes when you close your eyes your walls are bleeding, and sometimes there’s a woman crying blood above you on your bed… Sometimes, someone’s standing in the corner of the room with an axe, and that’s the one that really makes your heart beat loud, yet you have no idea why.

It’s just your night terrors.

That’s what the meds are for.

You reach around in the dark, fingertips tap against the pressed wood table, and slip down to find the knob. Before you can even pull it out-

*Creak*

You freeze.

A footstep down the hall draws your eyes to your doorway adjacent. You can’t see shit, but you know the door’s there. And wide open.

*Creak*

You’re breathing through your mouth as silently as you can, listening for anything other than-

*Creak*

It’s a night terror.

You’re asleep right now. or hallucinating while half asleep.

That’s all it is.

She’s standing just down the hall.

She feels like dancing, she’s really in your appartment!! and you’re in here! She can hardly contain herself!

If you saw who she was, instead of just a dark silhouette, you’d recognize her. She went to the same school as you growing up. She goes to your college now. And she’s always just been, around.

Lucy is really cute! and has a lot of the same interests from what you’ve gathered… She’s just extremely shy, so when you try to actually talk to her she either whispers, or just “eeep’s!” and runs away. She’s a trust fund baby. For one reason or another you never perused her, not that you never thought about what’s under her clothes, or wanted to get to know her more.

And now, she’s in your apartment, like she is most nights since the first day she saw you. Well in the beginning she was going into your parents house. Now that you’re all on your own, she gets free reign of your apartment.

She’s been getting bolder.

You pop a med and close your eyes.

The last time she was in your room she checked your browsing history, and found some porn that must’ve interested you!

She’d look again today, but she got carried away in her fantasies and cut the wires down the road!

You have at least one responsibility every day, but your college days only take up about 3 hours. So it isn’t that bad… You sigh.

When you get dressed, and pull a shirt from under your bed, something rolls out with it over the woodgrains…

Is that…

A glass bottle, about the length of your hand, full of blood??

You gag.

How did this get here!?

Maybe, you think, it was just here when you moved in! yeah… That’s probably it…

You end up throwing up into the toilet and throwing the bottle into a trash bag and immediately taking it out.

Lucy is already in class, she isn’t looking as giddy as normal. She’s glaring daggers straight ahead, not really looking at anything that you can see.

“Hey Lucy! you alright?” you wave gently.

“Y/N!” She peeps! “H-hey! Um, yup! I’m just a little sleepy today! sall…” She fakes a yawn and stretches, bringing her arms up over her head. Her very full chest bobbles as she does.

You sit next to her and she shakes for a second. “You sure that’s all?”

“Mhm!” She confirms.

“Okay, I won’t press you but i’m here if you need to talk”

“Th-thank you” She says as she shudders.

She’s always a little strange, but she’s nice, and probably means well.

“H-Hey Y-Y/N…” she audibly swallows.

“Hm?” You respond right before she puts her hand on your thigh, and even though the professor isn’t in yet, she’s staring straight at the board. her pale face already as red as a strawberry.

You look down, surprised, and back up, and down again.

Your pants feel tighter it’s unfair. All she had to do was touch you in one little spot so close to where you really need attention, but so agonizingly far.

You were never really friends, so there’s nothing there to ruin… If this is what she wants. She’s probably just messing with you anyway.

Even her ears are red, she has her orange hair over her other shoulder. giving you full view of the couple freckles that spot her neck.

Her hand glides over your lap until her hand has climbed Mt.YourPants and is now pressing down rubbing almost painfully through the fabric against you.

You put the back of your hand to her bare thigh and feel her jump, with a cute “ee!” Slowly you flip it over, caressing her with just the tips of your fingers. She shudders.

You press your palm flat against her skin, she’s soft and warm. Even her thighs have a few freckles. Slowly you slide your hand under the hem of her skirt, you pass over the jagged feeling of a long cut healing, and further up there’s a lot of big bandages.

“A-are you alr—”

“It’s nothing!” She assures you, but it doesn’t settle the feeling in your gut that something is off. She takes your hand shakily and puts it on your desk.

Immediately following, her hand moves back to your thigh and creeps back into place at your center.

You kinda forget about what just happened.

Her nails have little hand painted angel wings over pale pink polish. She’s so cute.

Your still half-hard dick against the fabric is really uncomfortable. She can’t be planning on taking it too far since you’re in class, so you try to relax a little, and you think this is probably the extent of it.

She turns in her seat, placing her other hand in your lap, and is now unzipping and unbuttoning your pants. You jump up a little and shoo her hands away. Your head frantically swivels around the room before turning back to her, “Lucy!” You hiss, “We can’t do that here!” Your face is hot.

“Why not…? I’ve seen people do it before.” She tries to match your volume, still just barely above her usual whisper.

“What!? Here!?” you feel bad that she even had to witness something like that!!

“You know what else i’ve seen…” The words exit her mouth ominously, and her face deepens a shade.

You gulp…. Do you wanna know? “Wh-what?”

She gets up, and scoots her chair back a little…

Then she climbs under the shared desk and gets in front of your legs.

“Wh-What are you doing!! Lucy!!” You try to keep your voice down, but you can’t help but raise it in a slightly higher pitch.

“What?… Do you not—I really want to… Please Y/N?” she looks down, her big brown doe eyes looking away sheepishly.

Your dick twitches. Her cleavage is on display just below you, and presses against your legs. She’s practically begging to play with your cock. But if you get caught… You gulp yet again.

Your brows are hiked up in worry, eyes locked on her chest and how red even they’re getting. “O-kay Lucy… B-but please be careful!” You cannot believe what you’re letting her do.. In class!!! Your dick must be talking for you.

Eyes now alight with pure joy and excitement, she opens your jeans and gets your cock out.

Your tip was really getting irritated in there! It feels instantly better even though it’s a little too cool— “Haaaah!!” She wraps both her hands around the base of you, fingers interlocked. She definitely doesn’t know what she’s doing, but you appreciate her enthusiasm.

Her thumbs massage the underside of your length, it isn’t too bad. They come up under your tip and press teasingly against it. She scooches even closer burrowing her way between your spreading legs. You slouch more in your chair, head resting on your thumb and finger as you try and look nonchalant.

She finally brings her hands up all the way and rubs them over your head. You aren’t looking so when you feel her hot breath on you, you can’t help but jump!

She kitten licks you first, just savoring your flavor, you think you feel her kiss your dick before you feel yourself get swallowed up entirely. She gags on you, so you reach under the table and place your hand on her soft hair. “Please, Lucy… Be quiet…” You start to shudder, her throat contracts around you and she’s sucking you so hard by the time she pulls back.

She’s eagerly licking up your pre and you even hear her slurp, it’s so hot, but someone is definitely gonna hear! “Mmmm!” She moans around you.

You look around and almost everyone has earbuds in. You sigh in relief and your dick starts to pulse and twitch more and more in her warm mouth. You almost let go in that moment, but it feels so good, you don’t want it to end.

Her tongue is flat against you and licks your underside. She keeps running it over your head, and teasing your slit and when she pulls away she sucks even harder, everytime you almost “Ooo” out loud, but you try to hold it in.

You hear her moan again and can’t keep it in this time, “Hnnng!” You shoot your load into her, which she seems to keep in her mouth…

She takes some onto her fingers from her mouth before swallowing the rest.

You feel her wrap her lips tightly around your softening, leaking dick again and knee the table in surprise. “Mm!”

“Okay Lu-Lucy!” You pat her head to tap out, but she keeps going. Your stomach flutters from overstimulation.

Your dick re-hardens without pressure building up, you just feel the excess of pleasure around you.

She presses her fingers against her tight pussy and rubs while she continues to suck all the soul out of your body.

She’s whimpering and shaking now, you imagine she’s fingering herself… You want to look.

You slouch further in your seat so that there’s a slit between the table and your body that you can see your dick completely swallowed up by a shuddering girl.

Her face is hungrily pressed against you, “mm!” her whimpers continue to vibrate around you, when is the last time someone’s been this enthusiastic about your dick?

You see her arm violently moving as she fingers herself with your cum.

She can barely fit two of her little fingers in her tight pussy, it’s such a stretch for her… And she’s imagining your dick inside her! Oh she really can’t stand it! The thought of you stretching her instead of her stupid little fingers.

“Mm!!” You watch her twitch and then settle, but she keeps sucking on you, it’s getting to be too much for you, you don’t understand this sensation, you already came, but you’re still hard and feeling extremely hot.

“Lucy…” you plead. You aren’t even worried about the other people in the room but your getting fatigued.

She pulls off of you with a small *pop* “S-s-sorry… Y/N… Hah… I g-got carried away…” She looks down, filled with guilt.

You find her chin with your hand and pull her face to look up at you. Your dick twitches between you two, and you feel embarrassed for a second as if she wasn’t just sucking the life out of you. “come back up here please,” You smile at her.

As she climbs back up her seat, you fix yourself, and the professor walks in.

From Cookie!

Lemme know how i did! this is my first ever x M! so i hope i can get better and make more!!! 🙈✨

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maliciousblog · 1 day

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Forest God (San)

Warning: All my work comes under the dead dove tag so readers discretion is advised. Read at your own risk.

You were always warned not to go too deep into the forest.

They said magical creatures lay hidden in the woods waiting for innocent little lambs to wander in for them to prey on.

You were outside your cabin gathering wood to light up the snow with winter fast approaching you need to make sure to have enough wood to last your family through the harsh winter that enveloped the kingdom.

As you stacked on piles of wood onto the wheel barrow occasionally throwing glances at your little brother who was putting in little twigs he found strone across the forest floor in his own efforts to help you.

You couldn't help but smile at the look of accomplishment he had across his sweet Cherub like face as he handed you handfuls of twigs for you to put into the basket which you gladly accepted giving him a little pat on the head in return.

With winter approaching the sun has begun to set earlier and earlier by the day.

You held on to your brothers hand guiding him into the cabin as you begin to prepare dinner awaiting your father's arrival. You often missed what it had been like before that one fateful night that took away your loved ones.

It had been a particularly cold winter's night when you had ran out of wood for the fire which you desperately tried to keep alive with your trembling hands.

You're father was stuck at the lumber yard as the snow storm had left him immobile.

Your mother and sister deciding to grab some wood leaving you to keep watch over your little brother.

That was the last you ever saw of them.

Sometimes you would still catch your father searching for them in the woods in hopes of atleast finding their bones for him to keep.

Sitting by the window you peer out wondering in they are still wandering in search of home.

As you drift away into deep slumber you hear a voice calling onto you beckening you into entering the woods.

You opened your eyes finding yourself paralysed in the woods. The voice calling onto you.

Like an owner calling to it's pet.

You knew better than to give into the forest gods.

You tried to ignore it as best as you could but his voice began to reverberate in your skull.

Making it feel like a thousand shards of glass were pentrating into your skull all at once.

You couldn't give in you had to resist.

You found yourself crying tears of blood.

It was all too much.

You woke up with a start finding the gentle rays of the sun fill in the cabin.

Illuminating your safe space.

Wandering into the bedroom to check in on your brother you found his little frame curled up underneath the blankets peacefully in deep slumber.

Waddling into the kitchen you wondered why your father hadn't arrived home yet setting the kettle on the stove only to realise that you were out of wood.

Slipping out slowly into the backyard to gather some.

You couldn't help shake the feeling of something watching you.

Peering onto the woods you could see a pair of animal life eyes staring back at you.

It wasn't uncommon for a deer of the occasional fox to wander in.

Thinking nothing of it you left to tend to the task at hand making breakfast.

Starting up the stove

Cracking a few eggs into the sizzling pan.

Taking a sip of the sweet tea that smelt of the flowers in the meadow you felt content.

Plating the food you went to wake your brother up.

Only to be greeted by the site on an empty bed and the front door wide open.

This couldn't be happening.

He was all you had left the forest gods couldn't take him away from you.

Rushing outside in an effort to find tracks on the snow you found coloums almost as it someone had been dragged along the snow ocassional disparities indicating struggling.

Your heart clenched at the sight.

The same insistent ringing continued as you ventured into the forest. Slowly loosing sight of your home.

The cold air slicing through your skin.

Venturing in deeper you begin to see a crimson trail begging to take shape but the trail stopped in a clearing as if the person it came from vanished into thin air.

That's when you saw him.

Peering through the dense forest.

His skin as white as ice. Eyes as black as the depths of the nights he haunts you.

Revealing himself he walks towards you

Hands drenched in blood that you only hoped didn't belong to your family.

A smile began to form stretching across his face revealing a row of sharp teeth.

You were frozen

It was the same face that had been haunting you for years finally materializing in front of you.

So beautifully haunting.

You couldn't move as he held you in his arms.

His hands gently caressing your face tilting your jaw upwards as you stare in horror at the lifeless bodies of your brother and father strung up on the tree looking down on you.

As you started wailing historically.

Your body going limp as he gently rocked you back and forth in an attempt to calm you down.

"I'm sorry it had it be this way little lamb but they were keeping you from me.

It had to be done for us to be together.

It wasn't right of them to deny me what is rightfully mine.

My beautiful sacrifice

Now that you are mine not even death can separate us"

True to his word he had you in his clutches for what felt like forever.

The days turned into weeks turned into months.

Time was nothing but a winding blur.

A never ending nightmare that repeated itself over and over again.

It wasn't all bad.

You hadn't learned to enjoy his company but you at least learnt to tolerate it.

You didn't mind it when he ran a comb through your hair that he himself had carved out of the finest sandalwood he could find leaving behind a sweet scent each time he ran it through your hair.

Or when gently massaged scented oils into your skin his hands working magic as they gently untangle the stiff knots in your muscles soothing the ache that he had caused you from the night before.

It wasn't all bad.

He treated you like a possesion you felt yourself loose little pieces of yourself as each day passed.

He had you bound in his lair.

It had been so long since you were trapped in you were begging to forget what the world outside looked like.

You had begged and pleaded to him to let you out but it all fell onto deaf ears.

"You don't need to go out. You have everything that you need right here.

Haven't I catred to your every need and you still want to leave me.

I would have figured by now you would have atleast learnt some gratitude.

But what can I say I'm disappointed but not surprised.

I spoilt you too much.

How about I chain you down in the dungeon maybe then you'll learn to respect your owner.

The sooner you learn the better off you'll be.

I wont hurt you as long as you listen to me.

You got that little lamb.

It's what's best for you "

With that he locked you in your shared bed room to be alone with your thoughts.

The worst part was that you actually felt guilty for hurting him.

You were truly loosing your mind.....

You didn't know how much longer you could survive before you turned into a brain dead fuck toy for him.

You couldn't let that happen.

If he wouldn't let you out you had to find a way out yourself.

By now you had memoirsed his routine he would stay with you throughout the day and through most of the nights.

But would leave during Twilight to hunt.

You had a window of about a couple of hours to execute your escape.

You had to make sure he wouldn't suspect anything and made sure to pander to all of his requests for him to not lock you up.

You waited patiently when the day finally arrived it was time for him to hunt.

He left you. With a kiss before he bid you farewell. His beloved.

You watched through the window as his silouette dissapired into the tree line.

You prayed for the poor soul that he would kill tonight during the hunt.

But it was better someone else than you.

You managed to slip out through one of the back doors.

You had about an hour to escape before he returned home and noticed your abcesnse.

How naive you were to think that you could escape.

He was the master of the forest and nothing went beyond his notice.

He knew from the second you stepped out of the house that he would find you.

But he figured it had been a while since he had a little fun and he might as well indulge you and participate in this little cat and mouse chase that you had started.

He watched as you ran as fast as you could to put as much distance from the house.

Unaware of his looming figure just seconds behind you.

You stopped to catch your breath hoping to have ran far enough from the monster that kept you captive.

Only for him to emerge from behind the woods with a sick twisted smile strone across his devilishly handsome face.

"That was a good try but too bad you'll never be good enough to beat me at my own game.

I'll tell you what I'll give you another try.

Run as fast as you can add if I don't catch you I'll set you free.....

Go ahead little lamb I'll give you a head start.

Run....."

A little voice in your head told you that it was useless to run away from him.

But you couldn't just let him win.

You couldn't let him see you loose hope.

As you ran through the woods you felt a strong arm slam you into the forest floor knocking the air out of you.

"Found you"

He grabbed you by your hair dragging you across the forest floor not listening to your plea for him to stop.

The floor littering your skin with scarthes drawing blood as he continued to drag you through.

When you resisted. He simply lifted you off the ground and swong you over his shoulder like a rag doll making his way back home.

As he opened the door he threw you onto the hardwood floor.

In a desperate attempt you tried to get up.

He sent a swift kick to your chest.

Knocking you to your side.

You felt metal fill your mouth as you began to cough out blood.

You sobbed. “San.. please ''...

You tried to shove him away but he didn’t relent. He bent over you, sliding back just slightly. He held your chin in his large hand as his other held you down as he pressed his lips to yours and muffled your pleas.

"San please you're scaring me"...

You're hurting me stop..

" You are hurt what about me how do think I felt when you ran away.

You betrayed me....

I'm all you have....

All I ever did was love you, take care of you and this is how you repay me.

By being a bitch and running away from the one person that actually cares about you.

You're a pathetic little whore.."

He withdrew from your lip and held you down with a hand on your chest as his other worked at your pants. You grabbed his wrist, unable to budge him as your pants reached your knees. He got to his knees and you wriggled to get away.

He caught you and pulled your legs out from beneath him. He leaned them against his torso, your feet at his shoulders. He pressed his thighs around your ass as he reached down between your legs. You squirmed and pushed at his hand. Kicked your tangled legs against him. He grabbed your ankles in one hand and held them to his left shoulder.

He shoved his fingers between your thighs and forced them between your folds. He shuddered and pulled his hand away. Your eyes widened, hopeful again. You tried to move your legs but he kept them firm against him. You looked down as he unbuttoned his fly.

San You begged. I’ll be good.

“Too late,” He warned. “All you had to do was listen, honey. But you wouldn’t.”

You wheezed as he unzipped his jeans and you looked away as he revealed the head of his swollen cock. You felt him pull himself out entirely and you closed your eyes. You reached down to shove him away with just your fingertips. He ignored you, if he noticed your pathetic resistance at all.

He moved your legs. Pulled them as wide as they would go still caught in your sweats. Not much but enough. He held your left knee and guided himself along your most tender spot. You tried again to draw away but he had you trapped. He leaned over you, bending your legs just slightly.

He rubbed his slick fingers along you, wetted them again and forced them inside of you. He pressed his thumb to your clit and your body stiffened. Despite your fear, your body responded. He licked his fingers a third time, to taste, to add a little more, and shoved them even deeper.

He played with you a bit and then pulled his fingers out to spread your juices along his cock. He pressed his tip to you again, this time he slid in easily but not painlessly. He didn’t ease himself in. He pushed himself to his limit and past yours and you cried out.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans. He rocked against you steadily, each time you winced at the strain. His hands went to your thighs as he brought himself as deep as he could go. He leaned over you, your back curved as he curled your body beneath him.

He planted his hands beside you as he raised himself over you. He lifted his pelvis and slammed it down, each time adding to the reverberations along your spine.

The sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you added to the heat. Filled your head lewdly and carried you higher. You grunted as you were close.

He sensed it and slowed down.

Drawing a painfully slow pace leaving you on your edge teasing you.

Making you loose your mind.

Your eyes met his begging him to go faster.

" Look at you.

Pathetic little whore , can't wait to cum on my cock.

If you want it that bad beg for it .

Beg for me to let you cum".

He didn't have to tell you twice as a string of pleas and apologizes left your lips.

Once he was satisfied with humiliating you.

He picked up the pace ramming into you.

Causing the coil that had built in you to snap.

The orgasm rushing through your body.

As he filled you up to the brim.....

As you both layed there in the after glow of what had just happened his limbs wrapped around you like a vine.

You realised that there was no escape.

After all he was a god and you were a mere mortal.

#dark #dark fic #kpop #yandere #yandere fic #yandere kpop #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #ateez fanfic #choi san #san atz #san ateez #yandere ateez #yandere imagines #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez #horror fiction #horror

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konigsblog · 2 days

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rapist simon who has to gag you to shut you up bc you keep screaming in the basement while his oblivious friends are over

could very easily pair this with kidnapper-simon 👀

TW/CW: RAPE/NON-CON, KIDNAPPING, DARK CONTENT — DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. MDNI 18+ (YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CHOOSE TO CONSUME.)

you've been kidnapped, by a man you thought you could trust. you poured your heart and soul into that relationship despite its toxicity. you're left broken and worn down, locked away in the chamber down in his basement.

although despite him being responsible for your disappearance, he invites people over, usually his teammates, allowing them to stay for some drinks and to watch the football together. your voice is already hoarse and strained from all of your crying and wailing, along with the force of simon's dick down your throat everyday.

he can hear your screams, they're faint, barely audible. simon turns the volume up on the television and excuses himself downstairs into the basement, telling the rest that he believes he heard something fall over. they're unbothered and don't suspect a thing — i mean, can you blame them? nobody would suspect that he had his ‘ex-girlfriend’ locked away downstairs, that he was abusing and raping you constantly.

he immediately took his big, half-hard cock out, cursing at you quietly for not being silent like he'd asked of you. your mouth is forced up, a bondage toy forcing your mouth open all day, so he can slide his veiny and lengthy cock down your throat, causing you to gag and choke, gurgling at the intrusion down your throat.

after all, he tells you that your attempts are fruitless, laughable almost. that the team wouldn't hesitate to take turns with you if you disturbed their peace and quiet.

#orla speaks #tw kidnapping #tw: non con #tw: dubcon #tw: rape #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley cod #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost headcanon #ghost call of duty #ghost imagine #ghost mwii

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yuujipaws · 18 days

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, fetishes & turn ons . . . 𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐘 .ᐟ

ᯓ★ synopsis 概要 : shorts on what i think some of the jjk mens kinks would be.

ᯓ★ featuring 特集 : gojo, geto, toji, sukuna.

「 minors do not interact 」

ᯓ★ word count 語数 : 893

ᯓ★ content warnings 警告 : afab! reader. oral (f), overstimulation, p in v, begging, teasing, praise & degrading, cockwarming, slight somnophilia, daddy kink, nippleplay, consensual non con.

GOJO . . . enjoys overstimulation, especially when it comes to giving you head. your clit is already sensitive to the touch, so much so that he cannot place a finger on your bare clit without you gasping and squirming, shooting sensations pulsing from that area. he has to rub you over your clitoral hood, so that there’s at least a soft, cushiony barrier between your most sensitive parts, and his roughened thumb; but when it comes to his mouth, it’s just heavenly. the way he laps you up, tongue peeking into your hole as deep as it will go, pushing in a finger as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and swirling. after a bit, you start to get overwhelmed, the sensations coming from your abdomen making you squirm almost out of his grip. “mmhnnn.” satoru shakes his head slightly, wrapping strong arms around your already shaking thighs. “please, no more, i can’t take it.” you plead with him, just before his mouth releases your clit with a wet and sloppy ‘pop’ before telling you, “you’ll take as much as i want you to. you’re mine.” viciously sucking at you until you’ve came, again and again.

GETO . . . likes cockwarming. sometimes it was while he was on the game, noticing you walking around the house in damn near nothing, whistling to get your attention. he would pull his shorts down just enough, motioning for you to come sit on his lap. of course you had no issue with this, discarding your panties to go sit on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside of you. sometimes you would wiggle around and earn a harsh slap to your ass, or what he could reach of it. other times he was thrusting into you after losing, or even winning a match. you didn’t mind, as long as he was giving you attention. sometimes cockwarmimg geto was a little different, like when he is tired and needy, snuggling with you in bed. he can feel your ass pressed against him, and whether you were trying or not, you made him hard. sometimes he will pull off his shorts, sticking the tip against you and if you’re wet enough, it slides right in. you can hear him hum softly, settling in, feeling the warmth of your walls, he wraps his arms around you to sleep for the night. once he wakes in the morning, and realizes his cock is still hard and inside of you, he fucks you awake.

TOJI . . . has a daddy kink, ironically. it started off as just a joke, him calling himself big daddy, or telling you he was your daddy; and at first, you didn’t know how to feel about it, but weeks of thinking, and possibly some subliminal conditioning from your lovely, perverted boyfriend had changed your mind. “do it, slut.” he was hovered over you, tip of his cock pressed against your slick hole, teasing, but only enough to have you frustrated and almost begging. he wouldn’t put it in until— “say it.” he demanded of you, hand coming up to grip your soft cheeks, keeping your focus on him. you wanted to, but it felt so foreign on your tongue, saying it when you were alone just to get a taste of the word in your mouth. “daddy?” you finally let it slip, your voice light and airy, the word coming out almost as if it were a question. “that’s it, good. say it again, like you mean it.” less demanding this time, but he still wouldn’t put it in until he was satisfied, and he could tell it was bothering you. the way you wiggled your hips and tried your best to push yourself down onto his cock, but it was useless in that position, lying on your back you were helpless beneath him. “daddy please.” this time it sounded better, more natural as the words just fell off of your tongue, begging him to finally wreck you; to which he did, until you were a crying and cumming mess.

SUKUNA . . . likes cnc. he rather enjoys watching you squirm and cry beneath him, begging for him to stop. you’ve already established a safeword, and he always confirms it before going into a scene; knowing that if that word fell from your lips, he would stop immediately. “baby, what’s your safeword?” he asks you, and once you respond he begins to push himself onto you, feeling up your thighs, squishing soft skin and pushing his rough fingers between the warmth of them. “please..” you whimper, knowing it turns him on to hear you beg. he ignores you, his free hand pulling your tank top down to reveal your chest and already budding nipples. with his head dipping down to put one in his mouth, his other hand worked his way up your thighs and right against your panties. “please, stop!” you protest, gasping at the feeling of his teeth, nipping and sucking before releasing their grip, his fingers down below pushing past the fabric of lace, plunging themselves into your sweet dripping hole. “you know you want this, that’s why you don’t fight me.” the man snickered at your obedience, the way your hole clenched around his fingers when he spoke. “relax, enjoy this.” he hums, pumping his fingers in and out until you’re begging for him to let you cum.

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moechies · 2 months

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hhfrhrhrh stepdad nanami absolutely demolishing u in bed

“daddy.. daddy..”

“hm, princess? daddy’s here,”

he holds your face in between his fingers, a gentle tap to your cheeks when your eyes gaze off somewhere else.

he pistons into your cunt like a fucking machine, contradicting to his sweet words. you’re barely able to take a breath before he presses into you yet again, forcing a shrill cry from your throat.

an offering of shade hovers over you as he leans above your body with his; you're barely able to see the ceiling, the only thing visible in your peripheral vision is the handsome face of your dearest stepfather.

your cunt creams around his base, a pearlescent ring of cum beginning to build on his cock.

“creamin’ all over the place, hm? does it feel good sweetheart?”

and you're unable to provide a verbal answer, only a humiliating loud moan that leaves your lips; but he'll take it as a yes.

"d-daddy.. no more.. too.. much!"

"no princess, be good. you want daddy to give you your reward, right?"

your small hand tightens around his bicep.

"y-yes.. i-i wan- wan' daddy's reward.."

"there we go, that's my sweet girl."

nanami knows anything you say is out of the goodness of your heart, and not from a single thought provoked in your head; but he doesn't care.

because stepdaddy nanamin knows that you would never say no to him anyways.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #dead dove do not eat #yandere jujutsu kaisen #dark content #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanamin #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x reader smut #tw stepcest #tw.stepcest #tw.dark content #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊#requests ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

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animentality · 8 months

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#twitter #heartstopper #lgbt #lgbtqia #antis #proship #censorship #dead dove do not eat

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diejager · 4 months

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Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3

Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.

You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.

It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.

You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.

You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.

He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.

What a nice roommate you have, no?

Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

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smuthospital · 6 months

Text

⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️

Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea

Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader

Minors DNI

You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.

He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.

He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.

Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.

He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.

There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.

You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.

"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.

You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.

"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.

Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?

"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.

He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.

He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.

He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.

You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.

His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.

"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.

You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.

"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.

You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.

"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.

You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"

Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:

- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.

- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"

- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"

- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him

- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy

- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.

- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.

- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.

- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.

- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.

- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.

- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"

- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.

#non con #lemon #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere husband #dead dove do not eat

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