REQUEST: Hi! Are you writing for Tsukinami Carla in Diabolik Lovers? the reader is a human and Carla falls in love with her, Carla severely punishes her in the dungeon for trying to escape (a whip etc.) And Carla regrets when tiny a/o is on the verge of fainting.
lil note:
this is part of a little series of yandere one shots of anime/genshin characters i did that you can find on ao3 here
The ground is sharp as you run across it, barefoot. You’re shivering, head frantically looking left and right in anxiety as you drag your body through the halls. This is the farthest you’ve ever gone, farther than you’d let yourself even imagine; a spark of hope emerges in your chest.
And then it’s gone.
Stood before you, staring down at you with that disapproving frown, is Carla.
“You didn’t think I’d let you leave, did you?” His arms are folded, eyes lidded as he looks down at you with an expression that sends a chill across your body. It's too fast for you to move when his hand comes out to slap your face with immense strength, sending you staggering to the ground with a cry. Carla steps forward, his shoe coming to rest on your calf. He presses down, and you wince at the bruising pain as you're trapped below him.
“You know that I do not tolerate disobedience. Must I break your legs in order for you to understand that you cannot leave me?” The pressure becomes a little more painful, before finally dissipating as you watch him step back from your pitiful form
"Stand." He demands, voice deep and powerful with eyes full of scorn. You try, but the fear has left you paralysed, and you freeze half-way, stuck on the floor, beneath him. He watches you for a moment, before reaching down quickly to yank on your arm.
“Now."
His hand holds your arm with a bone-crushing grip.
“You will follow me.”
You're dragged along behind him at a pace that you’re unable to keep up with, feet stumbling with every step as your weight is held up only by the agonising grip he keeps on your arm.
There's no way to tell how long it takes for you to reach the dungeon, a matter of seconds, perhaps hours. But nonetheless, your body finds itself crashing onto familiar stone ground- the impact only adding to the blossomed bruises along your body, no doubt.
“Must you really defy me, every chance you get?”
You're thrown across the bed, your night-dress ripped from your body as Carla holds in his hand something black, and to your horror you come to realise it's a whip.
"You will obey me, Y/N, whether you want to or not. Beg for my forgiveness."
The first crack of the whip against your skin elicits a piercing scream from you. Tears sting your eyes and you immediately begin to beg.
"I'm s-sorry! I'm sorry!" The tears are falling as you cry out, but your words are in vain as you feel the burn of the whip against you once again, and your body convulses violently as you struggle to be free.
"I'm sure you could do better than that." There’s a familiarly sadistic tone to Carla’s voice as a third and fourth laceration hits across your back before you can even open your mouth. The cold air stings the cuts as you feel blood trickling down your back.
You're screaming frantically, blubbering a messy string of words that probably make little sense, in an effort to earn his forgiveness. But the sadist above you continues without mercy, and you feel dizzy from the pressure pounding through your head.
It burns with an unbearable pain as you lay, sobbing. Your voice is cracked and broken and there’s black spots dotting your vision. It’s too much. You can’t think, you can’t breathe. It’d be so much easier to just give up altogether and-
And then it stops.
You can barely open your eyes to look up and see Carla above you, staring at your face. His golden eyes burn into yours, and you can feel the sweat trickling down your forehead uncomfortably as you struggle to breathe. But this time, he seems confused- with a deep frown as he stares at you- before you realise what his expression truly holds. Concern.
There's a momentary silence, in the cramped room, save for your loud inhales. And then he places the whip down, gloved hand reaching out to grab your chin in a surprisingly gentle grip. His voice is deep and final.
"You are forgiven, Y/N. Do not give me reason to punish you again."
WARNING: dubcon, age gap, manipulation, corruption, loss of innocence, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, loss of virgnity, slut shaming, toxic relationship
///
You find Shigure scary. He likes that.
///
"Um....Shigure?", you spoke meekly, slightly nervous to be interrupting him during his work. He was sitting at his desk, body facing you and the door that you hid behind. The man sat writing had given you no reason to feel intimidated so far, always kind and welcoming, despite the distance you felt between the two of you that wasn't there with Kyo or Yuki, though you just brushed it off as being due to age. Shigure was, by all means, an adult. And that wasn't to say that you weren't- you'd passed that mark over a year ago, but Shigure was different. He was experienced in life outside your little village, known people far different than you ever had, and had so much more experience in life. Maybe that's why you'd always felt so intimidated by him.
Maybe.
You felt your face drop at this, you'd spent the last few days planning a movie day for the three of you to spend time with each other again, seeing as they'd both been so busy these last weeks. But of course, the timing had to be unfortunate.
You tensed slightly as he looked up, reading glasses hanging off the edge of his nose as he sat in less than professional clothing, though you doubted it really made a difference, to say he was a writer.
"Yes, Y/N?" He called out, voice laced with an expectant tone that suggested you might be wasting his time. You gulped, shaking your head.
"Sorry for interrupting you, I didn't-"
"Come into the room. I can't hear you very well through the door, believe it or not", he said dryly, a sarcastic comment that had your face heating up, embarrassment creeping through your body. You stepped inside, hands reaching to pull at your sleeves as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet under his gaze.
"Sorry, I was just wondering if you'd seen Kyo by any chance?" He didn't move his gaze from your face, and you had no doubt that your discomfort was clearly visible, but he made no sign of acknowledgment, instead simply shaking his head impassively at you.
"No, I'm afraid I haven't, though I do vaguely remember him mentioning something about going out earlier- Yuki too."
You froze for a second, slightly taken aback, before making your way over to his desk and standing awkwardly beside him. He leaned back on his chair, eyeing you with a scrutinizing gaze. You played with the hem of your skirt, a motion he picked up on quickly.
"Oh." You simply replied, shoulders slumping and a small frown on your face.
"Why? Am I not good enough for your entertainment? Too old and boring?", he teased, feigning offense with a clench of his heart.
"Oh, no, no", you protested, awkwardly shaking your hands in denial, "that's not what I meant. I just..." You trailed off, heart beating quickly under Shigure's gaze. He sighed, removing his glasses and folding them neatly beside his paper, before beckoning you over with a long finger.
"Are you nervous, Y/N?" The wholly confrontational question had you stunned, and you found yourself unsure whether or not to nod. You shook your head lightly. "Do I make you nervous?" You shook your head again, this time quicker, and in response received a light-hearted laugh. "I think you're lying to me. I think you're very nervous right now," he leaned forward, hands interlocked as he rested his chin on top, a charming smile directed your way. "And why might that be?". This time you didn't miss the smirk pulled on his lips, and you exhaled shakily as you looked into his grey eyes. "No answer? Maybe I should show you I'm not so scary, hmm?" He was silent for a moment, grey eyes watching yours in amusement. "Come sit here", you looked down at his hand patting his lap, eyes flickering back and forth between his devious smile and the gentle patting motion.
You reluctantly pulled your head back, avoiding his gaze as you looked up, but was taken by surprise when he pressed his lips to yours lightly, a kiss that hardened as the seconds passed, until you pulled back, gasping for breath. You stared at him, eyes wide in wonder, and he stared down at you, his own laced with lust. You leaned back in, hands grabbing his body as you clumsily kissed him, Shigure almost laughing at your obvious inexperience. His hands pulled at your clothes as you whined in his grasp. His fingers reached under your skirt, sliding along the thin fabric before pulling back with a smirk. "You're wet", he commented, a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched you squirm uncomfortably.
You'd never gotten this close with Shigure before; not even with Kyo or Yuki, and whilst you may have been physically innocent, you weren't blind as to what his motions insinuated. But for some reason, it didn't throw you off, it didn't scare you. Instead, you found yourself stepping closer to him, straddling yourself over his lap, and facing his chest.
"You know, I don't think you're scared of me after all. I think it's something else." His words only proved to confirm your thoughts, the shame in knowing your feelings for him were so obvious was too painful. You leaned into his chest, hiding your face in embarrassment as he laughed down at you, hands soothing on your back. "It's okay, baby," the nickname felt sinful on his lips, and you shuddered at his voice being so close to your ear, "don't feel embarrassed, you're too pretty to hide your face."
He reached down, hands finding their way under your skirt before skillfully removing your panties. He brushed his fingers lightly over your sex, fingers pressing down on your clit gently, making you squirm in his grasp. He tightened his hold on you, fingers rubbing tight circles with the bundle of nerves. You were heating up, tense body gradually relaxing in his caged arms as an undeniable pleasure took over.
Something about your inexperience was so delicious to him. You had no idea what you were doing, and he was prepared to use this to his full advantage. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him. "You've never done this before?" He asked softly, hands trailing their way down your body lightly, and you shook your head again, body trembling on his lap. His touch felt good, it felt right. And you wanted more. But suddenly he pulled away, a frown on his face as he looked down at you. "Thought so. Guess I'll have to go gentle then, huh? Always a pain." He tsked, his act going way over your head as your eyes opened in panic. You grabbed the sleeves of his shirt, pulling his hands back to your body with wide eyes.
"N-no...it's okay. You don't have to..." You spoke softly, not wanting to be a burden to the man that had taken you in. You were sure you could handle whatever was to come. His hands fell upon your sides again, a smile taking over his face as he looked down at you.
"Yeah? You're gonna take it like a good girl?", you nodded quickly, "That's what I like to hear."
His fingers slowly dipped down, pressing gently as his fingers entered you, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace. You stifled a squeak at a particularly good thrust, hands jumping up to clamp over your mouth in sheer embarrassment. You prayed he hadn't heard it as his fingers worked their way in and out of you, but the sudden stop told you otherwise.You looked up at Shigure with a confused, desperate look, hips moving desperately to regain the feeling he had taken away, and this time you couldn't hold in your whine when he pulled them out completely.
You felt your body tightening up, legs shaking uncontrollably at the sudden intense feeling."Oh my God, stop, Shigure, 's too much, please", his speed increased as his eyes lit up cruelly, pulling your gaze to meet his as you continued babbling your pleas. "Shigure, no, I think, ah, I think I'm-"
"Why?", you asked, tears of frustration soon going as you saw the look on his face. He was utterly unimpressed, displeased and he looked irritated.
"So now you want to make noise?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowing harshly. "Don’t try that again. I want to hear you, understood?" You nodded dumbly, surprised at the revelation, but for some reason, he still looked displeased. "I said," he pulled his fingers together, lightly slapping at your clit, causing you to jolt in his hold, "understood?".
"Aah- yes, yes, understood, Shigure, I'm sorry", you cried out moaning when his fingers re-entered you without a word, harshly prodding deep into your pussy.
You came with a scream so loud it would have left you mortified had you been focused on anything other than your release. Shigure's eyes rested on your face the whole time, cock aching badly as he watched your eyes roll back. You panted heavily, body loose as Shigure shifted you to sit above him. "That was good, right? So now you're gonna make me feel good, right baby?" He mused, and you nodded dumbly, mind sluggish in your post-orgasm haze. "Yeah?" he breathed our, "Good girl". He reached down, letting his cock free and guiding it to your slit. He didn't hesitate, pulling you down immediately, and you moaned out again.
"Good girl, just a little more", you whined uncomfortably as he lowered you down on his cock, muscles clenching at the unfamiliar feeling of being full, eliciting a deep groan from the man behind you. His teeth gritted as you took him to the base, tears welling up in your eyes. His hands tightened around your waist, holding you in place.
You felt Shigure slow down, his rhythm faltering as you regained your attention a little bit, hearing the front door open. Panic set in as you turned round to face the man holding you, desperately mouthing at him to get off of you. You watched in fear as a sly look appeared on his face, hips once again lifting you up and down on his cock, albeit much more gently, as you heard Kyo and Yuki making their way into the house. You clasped your hands over your mouth at a particularly deep thrust, pussy clenching down tightly. You almost screamed as you heard footsteps approaching the door, hands gripping tightly to the table once again as the door opened.Shigure stilled completely.
"I'm feeling nice today, baby, so I'm gonna give you a minute to get used to it, yeah?", he held you there for a moment, your fingers gradually unclenching from the table in front of you as you got used to the feeling. He bucked his hips up slightly, and you let out a breathy gasp. And then he lifted you up, the drag of his cock against your walls agonizing. Before dropping you back down again forcefully.
"FUCK!", you shouted, eyes clenching as he created a rhythm, lifting you up and down with no hesitation. You cried out, voice loud and desperate in the otherwise empty house. You could feel his cock reaching deep into you, and he sped up into an almost brutal pace, hands reaching out to grab your breasts, kneading the flesh roughly before his fingers delved underneath; rough, calloused fingers giving you goosebumps as they played with your nipples. " 's too much, Shigure, please, please Shigure, too fast", you cried out, hands reaching to grab his arms as you shook. You whined as you heard him laugh, a condescending tone as he spoke to you.
"It's too much? But I thought you said you could take it? Thought you said I could be rough? Like a little slut." He emphasised the word with a sharp thrust that had your whole body clenching, eyes shut closed and jaw braced as pleasure took over your whole body.He turned you around, grabbing your hair as he pushed you against the desk, papers flying off the side from the force.
"T-too much", you cried, tears trailing down your cheeks at the sensitivity. You felt heavy and your body was tired, but Shigure didn't let up, instead drilling his cock into you harder at the sound of your cries.
“That was close”, Shigure spoke softly into your ear, fingers never giving up. You didn’t respond, earning a sharp slap across your clit that had you gasping in his arms.
"Shigure, do you know- oh, Y/N? I was looking for you", Yuki's voice rang out in the room, your heart pounding at every word. You watched as Yuki's eyebrows furrowed, eyes scanning yours as he took in the scene in front of him, evidently confused.
"Oh, Yuki, Y/N just wanted some help with some work, didn't you?", he looked down at you, eyes calm as you shakily nodded your head. You were about to speak when you felt two fingers pressing on your clit, a sharp intake of breath, stopping the words completely. You felt Shigure's gaze as he looked down at you, a faux confused look on his face.
"Hmm? Y/N? What's wrong?", his fingers drew circles lightly again as the two men stared at you in confusion. "I- I...nothing. Yeah, I jus-just wanted help with some writing. And I've um...I've got a bit of a stomach ache", you forced a small smile, fingers desperately clenching on the wood of the table as Shigure’s pressed harder, motions speeding up. Shigure cooed condescendingly, giving you a pout that had you clenching around his digits. Yuki nodded awkwardly, eyes slowly trailing down your body before he stepped out the door, leaving the two of you alone once again.
You felt him let go with you, a deep, guttural groan sounding out loudly in the room. Your second orgasm was just as good as the first, if not better. But as you lay, panting on his chest, a wave of realisation hit you. There was no way that was quiet. There was no way they didn’t hear you. What the fuck had you done? You could feel the tears welling up again, the shame was too much. Your breathing got quicker, full-on sobs racking your body. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” Shigure cooed, hands enveloping your head to rest it on his chest in a firm hold. Your body shook under his, stifling your sobs.
“You want to come?” He asked, voice stern. You nodded desperately.
“Yes, I want it, want it”, you panted, his hips beginning to slap against yours. You knew he was close too, his hips faltering every now and then in his brutal rhythm.
“Fuck. Beg for it then, fucking slut”, he spat, his pace growing faster and faster. You whined out.
“Please, Shigure, please, I need it, please, oh my god” he thrusted faster, clearly taking your words as an incentive. You felt his hips stutter as he breathed out a final phrase.
ASK: Hiiii, i was wondering if you could do a kaname x fem reader where he finds out they self harm? only if you’re comfortable though!! thank you
CW: self-harm, mentioons of blood, blood drinking (minor)
Kaname's movements pause.
He can smell blood. Your blood.
Seiren pauses too, halted as she turns to the Pureblood vampire, turning at the sharp instruction he gives her, before taking off immediately in your direction.
The moments between being in the grounds and your own are long. He tries to figure out what could've possibly happened. Did you fall? No, it's too strong. There's too much of it.
The thought of Zero touching you has fury burning in his veins, blinded by the thought of your body weak beneath his hands.
When he arrives in your room, moments later, you’re sitting on the floor, with your hand cradling your wrist.
The blood that flows out of the cut creates a strong smell in the air, but Kaname is unable to think about anything but you as he kneels down beside you, taking in the situation.
You look up at the contact of his hand on your face, and he notices the way your eyes look distant and teary, swollen from crying. Your body is slumped against the wall, and his heart breaks as you speak out.
"K-Kaname," you stutter, "I don't-" the words get stuck in your throat in a thick lump as you look at him. “I didn’t want you to find out.” you whisper, allowing your head to droop as tears drip to the wooden floor.
You've never allowed yourself to be this vulnerable in front of anybody before, and even though it's Kaname, the one person you trust most in the world, your stomach is turning with nausea, terrified that he'll be shocked, disgusted.
"Shh," he whispers, soothingly, pulling your head into his broad shoulder, gentle with his touch.
Your eyes are wide as you stare at the floorboards, unblinking, watching the blood trickle into the cracks. Your reflection stares back at you from the gleam of the blade. A million thoughts are running through your head and you just can't pick one to focus on. You feel guilt, anger, fear. You feel sick.
Kaname raises his own hand to his mouth, piercing the skin deeply until blood trickles down his pale wrist, and he raises it to your mouth, tilting your head back so that it falls between your lips.
The effect is instantaneous. He watches as your wounds close up, leaving only thin lines of discoloured scars across your arm and legs. You breathe in, shakily, tears forming in your eyes as he runs a finger lightly across the skin. He leans down, pressing his lips softly against your wrists, leaving small, gentle kisses.
“I love you, Y/N. I won’t allow you to put yourself in danger, you’re far too precious to me.”
How Kaname would react to reader not feeling good enough?
ASK: how would kaname react to his s/o not feeling like enough for him, even thought she’s completely and utterly in love with him and envying Yuki a bit?
note: just to add, when i write vampire knight x reader fics I usually imagine reader as being in place of yuki? so in my fics she kinda just doesnt exist rip </3 i hope that makes sense haha
Kaname loves you entirely. You belong to him. But you must understand, those women are unavoidable for a vampire of such high status as himself.
The Day Class students can't be helped; he remains courteous with them, as always, but he keeps an unbreakable distance in his demeanour as he converses with them. His etiquette is common decency, nothing more. He refuses their hand-made gifts, returns their love letters and only politely thanks them for their infatuated compliments.
The Night Class is to be expected, he is a Pureblood, after all. It’s instinct for a Vampire, no matter their rank, to feel a sense of adoration for the select few whose power runs greater than the rest. Aido’s grovelling and Ruka’s defensiveness are instinct, natural.
Truthfully, he thought his adoration for you was clear. For years he has told you that he cares for you, so softly expressing his heavily guarded emotions. It was your gift he accepted the day of St. Xocolatl’s Day, your hand he held as he lifted you from the ground
You're a weakness to him, no doubt. The Night Class students recognise it. Kiryuu seethes in envy when he sees it. Even the Day Class students protest, with jealous complaints. So why don't you?
"Y/N, a ball is being held this evening in honour of it being Ichijo’s birthday. I'm in need of a date, would you care to join me?"
He brings the topic up as you scour through the bookshelves in his room, looking for one of the many you remember him lending you as a child. Your movements stop as you pause, turning to face him. Your expression is torn.
"Oh..." you hesitate, a nervous look on your face. Kaname watches you think for a second with growing displeasure, heightened only when you say, "I'm not sure, Kaname, I have to patrol this evening and-”
It's rare for Kaname to feel exasperated with you, but it's not at you that his irritation is aimed, it's the way you're acting. Why do you suddenly feel the need to distance yourself from him? Surely he's done nothing but made it clear how he feels about you?
"Y/N, I assure you that you’re permitted a single day of rest. I’m sure the Headmaster would have no complaints of you taking a night to relax. There's nobody else I'd rather have by my side."
Your eyes widen a little at his words, and he urges you to clasp onto them, to ignore the voice in your head telling you that you're not good enough.
You gulp, still unsure. "Oh, o-ok", you nod.
—--
Later that day, you’re in your bedroom, changing into the dress Kaname had gifted you moments ago. He waits patiently outside as you slip into the fabric, adjusting your hair.
You step forward, gingerly, making your way over to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, dolled up in such a beautiful dress, no doubt staggeringly expensive. The colour is just right, it compliments your skin and it fits perfectly, hugging your body. You look pretty, you truly do, but is it enough?
You’re too lost in the details of the gift to notice the door to your room opening, ever so quietly. Kaname steps into the room in silence, watching from behind. He notices the way you frown at your reflection, pulling and adjusting the dress to little satisfaction as you try to make yourself feel better. But you can't.
You look up when you feel Kaname's chest against your back. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile, and they come down to rest softly on the side of your neck, planting soft kisses up to the bottom of your ear.
"You look beautiful, Y/N." You turn back to look at your reflection as his hand snaking around your waist. "You're perfect," he places a soft kiss on your head, "I've never loved anyone more."
ASK: i was wondering if you could do another possessive kaname kuran x female reader plsss could you maybe do it with kaname taking the readers virginity?
Ok so!! I actually have a little fic coming soon (hopefully) with Kaname making a little show in front of Zero (i promise i do actually love zero <3) howeverrrr i quickly wrote a little something about the first time between Kaname and F!Reader for you!! In my personal opinion Kaname would be entirely soft and supportive and reassuring for your first time because he loves you soso much and he just wants to make sure you know how perfect you are. So first time with Kaname? Praise and fluff.
Also I searched up on google and kaname is 10,000 years old approx????? that makes his ggggggggggggggggggilf age i suppose.
CW: F!Reader, Virginity loss, praise, ‘good girl’ used, vampires, this is v cute and fluffy
"I'm scared", you confess, fingers shaking as you look up at Kaname. He looks so perfect above you. So handsome, so refined. He may only be a few years older than you in his body, but he’s had hundreds, thousands of years of experience that you could never compare to.
It’s more than intimidating for you.
The women he’s been with before..what were they like? You’d no doubt they were all beautiful, confident, with every right to be so. And despite your love for him, there's an ever-present fear in the back of your mind that you aren't good enough for him.
His long, lithe fingers come to clasp over your own, stroking the back of your hand gently and lifting it up to run across his cheek, before bringing it down to his mouth and planting a soft kiss on the skin.
"You never have reason to be scared when you're with me, Y/N." He whispers, tone gentle and patient, calmly reassuring you as the doubts fill your mind.
You’ve never felt afraid of Kaname before. So why is your heart beating so fast, and why are tears building up in your eyes every time you think about showing yourself to him in your most vulnerable, true form?
"But I'm…I just- What if-" you start, eyes darting away, trying not to be ashamed of the way the tears run down your cheeks.
He lets out a sigh, but it’s not harsh. It’s soft, understanding.
“Y/N, look at me.” His hand grips your chin, pulling it gently to look up at him once again. “You have nothing to worry about, you’re beautiful.” His eyes are so warm and soft, and your heart stutters at his words. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, admiring the way your eyes widen, still wet from your tears.
And then he lifts you up, suddenly, cradling you between his arms and carrying you over to his bed, before placing you down softly on the sheets. They're soft and smell like him, and you instantly melt into them, letting your head hit his silk pillows.
He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, giving you a reassuring smile.
“Can I take this off?” You feel a light tug at your skirt. He’s waiting for the shy nod of your head, and you throw one arm over your face as you feel his skin touch your own.
The fabric is pulled down your legs, and a shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his lips on your skin, leaving a trail of those same soft kisses that spark a lustful warmth in your stomach.
He ignores your underwear, instead reaching up to unbutton your blouse with careful fingers, and you shiver from the cold as it hits your shoulders and your stomach. Goosebumps form on your skin, and he trails his fingers over your stomach, leaning down to place a line of kisses up to your bra.
He leans back then, taking in the sight of you below him. You look beautiful, truly, truly beautiful. But he wants to see your face.
The arm you've hidden beneath is gently pulled away, and you peer up nervously at Kaname, a rush of emotion flowing through your head at the sight of him.
He’s smiling at you, soft and sweet and comforting and everything you need him to be right now. Everything he’s ever been for you and everything he ever will be. Just for you.
“You’re beautiful.”
He lifts your body up, pulling you into a deep kiss as his fingers snake around your back and release the clip of your bra, the garment falling loose. It’s discarded quickly, and you’re so lost in the kiss you hardly even notice until you’re flinching at the sudden feeling of his hands on your breasts, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.
“So pretty.” He murmurs, bringing you into another kiss as his hands trace down your sides, slipping into the fabric of your panties and pulling them down your legs
“You’re so wet already,” two fingers come down to meet the heat of your crotch, rubbing gently against your clit. You let out a light gasp, eyes widening as a smirk grows on his face. He knew you’d look like this, so cute and sweet for him as he makes you feel so good.
You tense up at the feeling of his finger at your entrance, but he just brings you into another kiss, letting your body relax as he pushes in.
You moan into his lips as he pushes in and out, slowly pushing in a second finger. He pumps them in and out, steadily, letting his thumb press lightly on your clit until you're a shaking mess beneath him. And then he pulls back with a final slow drag of his fingers that has you shivering with the sudden emptiness.
“Are you ready?” His deep voice is low in the empty room, and you inhale, shakily, and give a slow nod.
“I need you to say it, Y/N.” He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead, before pulling back to look into your eyes.
You swallow, nodding again. “I-I’m ready.”
“Good girl.”
He repositions himself, and you can hear the soft rustling of fabric before you feel his cock at your entrance. He guides your hands to clasp his back, and then he pushes in.
You let out a whimper as he enters you, a sudden unfamiliar fullness accompanied by a rush of pleasure that has you instantly digging your nails into his back. He stops momentarily, allowing you to take a few breaths, before he resumes.
“So perfect for me,” he breathes, and his words have your walls clenching around him. He lets out a light chuckle, dragging his fingers lightly along your sensitive skin.
“You liked that?” You let out a nod, and a high-pitched noise when his finger makes contact with your clit, rubbing slow circles.
“Of course you did, you're such a good girl. "
You moan again, breathy and needy, and it sparks a fire in Kaname as he looks down at you.
“Say you're mine.” His voice is deeper, more stern. He's wanted this for so long, wanted to take you and give you so much pleasure that it makes you dumb for him.
"Say it, Y/N" He repeats, picking up the pace of his thrusts as the bed moves beneath your bodies.
“I-I’m yours,” you moan, eyes flickering shut from the pleasure of his thrusts. "Please, please Kaname, I'm yours. "
He lets out a deep, guttural groan. He's had so many partners before, but nothing compares to the way you look right now. Nobody has ever been so perfect for him or made such sweet noises.
His thrusts speed up, sucking marks into your neck, gently nipping at your skin.
It's too much. All your nerves are alight with pleasure and you can't fight the building heat.
"K-Kaname, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" you can't even form the sentence properly, body shaking with pleasure.
"Go on, baby, come for me", he coaxes, dotting your face with soft kisses and picking up his pace once again. He can feel your walls clench down around him.
"That's right, that's right, good girl." He encourages, silencing your moans with a final kiss as your muscles tense.
The two of you separate, and he watches the way the moonlight
"I love you, Kaname" you whisper, chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high.
This is all Kaname has ever wanted. You, so entirely his.
ASK: how would kaname kuran react to his female s/o touching themselves?
oh hohhoh he's going to be thoroughly amused. you were so desperate you couldn't even go a few days without him? he should be angry, truthfully, but there's something so entirely adorable about watching you desperately try to recreate the pleasure only he can give you that maybe he'll let you off. provided you let him watch, of course.
cw: masturbation, voyeurism
Kaname had been away for two days on so-called ‘urgent’ affairs. Two days of being forced to ignore his undeniable longing for you in favour of attending tedious meetings and discussing irrelevant matters with equally as irrelevant vampires.
He was respected amongst peers for his patience and calm demeanour, but he had struggled to keep his composure as he endured days of faux-praise from other vampires, more interested in gaining the benefits of his favour than comitting to anything worth his while.
It was so much that he decided to return a day early, instructing for all meetings to be cancelled lest he deal with another day of faux-respect from other
His mood improved a little as he stepped back into the walls of the Academy, looking forward to the comfort of having you close to him once again.
Aido’s loud greetings were ignored upon his arrival to the dormitory, as Kaname swiftly returned to his room.
His pace faltered a little as he got closer to the door, slowing to stop outside.
Because he could hear your breathy moans through the walls.
He opened the door silently, and surely enough, there you were, wrapped up in the blankets of his bed with two fingers in your pussy and your eyes clenched shut in pleasure.
Your moans were light, clearly trying to be quiet as little wet noises filled the room.
“You couldn’t wait a day for me, could you?” He spoke suddenly, amused by the way your movements stopped, eyes opened wide in shock.
He walked over to you slowly.
“So filthy.”
He looked down at you from above, dragging his thumb across your swollen lips. “I thought about you all the time we were apart, worried you would get involved with Kiryuu or be coerced into entertaining Aido.”
“But it seems my worries were in vain,” he chuckles, “clearly my cute little girlfriend has been thinking of me too.”
“Your moans are so filthy, I could hear them from outside the door.”
Your eyes widen at this revelation, shame filling you at the thought of being so lost in your pleasure.
You watch as his smile falters, suddenly, the corners of his mouth dropping. “Though I suppose that means everybody else could too.”
He lets out a thoughtful hum, staring down into your eyes.
“We can’t have that, can we? Perhaps I’ll have to find a way to keep you quiet.”
Kaname’s voice sounds out again, calm. “Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”
You breathe deeply, and Kaname can feel the rush of your blood beneath his fingers. He listens to the unsteady beat of your heart level out, your body relaxing in his hands as it registers exactly who it is with his hands on you, who has your body pressed up against their own.
“N-no, Kaname.”
“Good,” he comments, with low satisfaction, “I’d never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?” He asks, softly, awaiting your response.
//
You recline back into Kaname's chest, relaxing your body as his hand draws small circles on your waist, eyes focused entirely on the paperwork that sits at his desk. Being Dorm President has its disadvantages at times, but you'd never heard him complain about the extra work bestowed upon him. He always seems content in the silence the two of you often shared, always insisting you sit on his lap or in his hold.
The sound of his pen scratching against the paper is soothing, and you find yourself falling victim to the repercussions of your late nights, eyes flickering open and closed as a sudden lull of fatigue washes over you. Patrols take a lot out of you, and you just don’t seem to have the time to catch up on the missed hours with all the exams you have going on. Your head falls back against his broad chest, and you can feel the vibrations of the quiet laugh he lets out, deep and rich.
"Are you tired, Y/N?"
Kaname thinks that you're so cute when you're sleepy. He loves the way you cuddle up to him, relying solely on him to protect you in your most vulnerable state. You look so peaceful when your eyes flutter shut, it has a warm smile forming on his lips as he looks down at you, one reserved only for these little intimacies the two of you share.
You make a small sound of agreement, letting your eyes close fully as he shifts to allow you to lay more comfortably, pen still scribbling away.
“Are you overdoing yourself on patrols again? I told you that you need to prioritise yourself." His voice is a little sterner, but you know he's not angry. "If any of the Night Class are causing you trouble, you’ll tell me, won’t you? I’ll be sure to punish them suitably. "
You’re about to respond, and tell him that your fatigue is not entirely the fault of the Night Class, namely a certain handsome blond, when you suddenly hear his pen halt.
He lets out a sigh, and your eyes flicker open. Before you can turn to figure out what's wrong, he speaks.
"Or I wonder if perhaps your fatigue is thanks to a certain member of the disciplinary committee who can’t seem to do his job without distraction."
You frown a little at his words, but it clicks as you hear the sound of the doors opening downstairs. There's some muffled voices- no doubt Aido protesting Zero's unprecedented arrival- and then silence. You can hear the rushed footsteps of Zero as he approaches from the stairs, and the sound of the oak doors slamming open is so deafening in comparison to the previous quiet of the study that it makes you violently jump. Kaname’s eyes fall onto you, narrowing at your reaction, before trailing slowly over to the white haired man standing in his doorway.
Zero is focused entirely on your body, held between Kaname’s arms. His eyes harden, and the pure fury in his eyes sends a shiver up your spine. The atmosphere is so different now, and once again you're wide awake, desperately trying to figure out what’s going on.
"I told you to stay away from her, you filthy vampire." Zero spits out, a knot forming in his stomach at the sight of you so close to the pureblood, the very enemy of all humans. It makes him furious, burning with rage and envy. He can’t understand how you could be with one of them, how you could betray him and all your morals.
Kaname is unfazed, body still as he simply watches the other man speak with that look on his face that Zero detests so much - like everyone is below him, that nobody is worthy. Nobody except you.
Zero has hated the dark haired man since the moment he set eyes on him. Even as a child, he understood that the young man that came to visit his new family was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Hate clouded his vision, spreading to poison you and the headmaster in it- a friend of his enemy was an enemy too. He saw you that way for a longer time than he’d ever admit, through the eyes of a hate that lasted for years, slowly broken down by your relentless care for him. He hated you. But now he pities you. Despite his words, he knows you’re too sweet, too naive to see through Kuran’s persona. There’s no way one of them could love a human. No way that he could deserve you. He won’t let you fall into his trap.
You’re frozen from the pure blood lust that Zero has in his eyes, more uncontrollable than you’ve ever seen him before. But Kaname still remains composed, eyes never leaving the white-haired man as he places his pen down on the wooden desk.
“Get your fucking hands off of her. I don’t give a shit if you’re a pureblood, Kuran. You’re still a sick fucking monster, just like the rest of your type.” He spits, moving forward to where you sit and focusing on the way Kaname’s arm has tightened around your waist, protectively. It makes a vein in his forehead twitch; how dare he act like Zero is the one endangering you right now?
“Am I really?” His voice is calm.
“Yeah, you fucking are.” Zero spits, reaching back, and you recognise the way he rears to attack, his body weight thrown backwards, prepared to swing his fist.
“And you’re so different?”
You’re shocked at the speed that Zero halts in his tracks, centimetres away from the desk. His eyes are wide with shock and rage. You don’t understand what Kaname means, but clearly the two know something you don’t, and whatever it is, it’s enough to throw even Zero out of his enraged state.
The tension between the two men has always been palpable at best, and you're no stranger to Zero's antagonising ways, but it's rare for Kaname to entertain his behaviour, usually preferring to brush it off with a disapproving amusement.
“Zero, what-”
You’re cut off as Kaname pulls you back against his chest, a singular hand coming up to encircle your throat. He doesn’t press down, only curves his fingers round the width of your neck. Your eyes widen, shocked by the sudden movement.
Your eyes flicker to the side to try and catch sight of the man behind you, but you can’t see his face from where he has your body held. Instinctively, your frame tenses, and your heart beats a little faster, a sudden spike of fear flooding through your veins.
Kaname has never held you so hostally, always treating you with the utmost care. But now his grip is tighter, and you’re reminded of the few previous instances of his sudden possessiveness over you.
“Your pulse has sped up, Y/N.” Kaname observes, out loud. You can’t see the way he stares past you to challenge Zero as he speaks, eyes cold. The white haired man is still standing in the same spot, but his attention is directed on the cage of Kaname’s fingers round your neck, his middle finger tapping lightly on the spot Zero knows to be your artery.
Kaname’s voice sounds out again, calm. “Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”
You breathe deeply, and Kaname can feel the rush of your blood beneath his fingers. He listens to the unsteady beat of your heart level out, your body relaxing in his hands as it registers exactly who it is with his hands on you, who has your body pressed up against their own.
“N-no, Kaname.”
“Good,” he comments, with low satisfaction, “I’d never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?” He asks, softly, awaiting your response.
You do. You do know it. You owe your life to Kaname.
You try to nod, movements slightly prevented by his grip.
His head lifts, clearly satisfied with your answer, to stare back at the other man. Kaname’s lips twitch a little at the corner, forming into a dark smirk that even Zero knows to be uncharacteristic.
“Can you smell her?”
And then suddenly, he speaks.
Your brows furrow as you register that he’s now addressing Zero. You look at your classmate, noticing the way he’s staring so intensely at the two of you. You wonder why he hasn’t moved further forwards, staying firmly in the same spot as before. He was so angry mere moments ago, you can’t understand what it is that has him rooted to the spot?
Zero’s eyes focus on the way Kaname’s long fingers flex playfully around your neck, applying light pressure in random spots. It’s shameful, but you can feel your body heat up at his ministrations, trying to remain unfazed in the presence of your classmate and adopted brother.
But Zero has noticed. He sees the way your eyes widen slightly as Kaname leans down, dragging his lips over your neck, slowly, planting soft kisses on the skin. He notices the way your hand fists the material of your skirt as you try to keep your breathing steady. He sees the smile that Kaname dons, only ever visible in your presence, and serving to anger him even further.
But he can’t do anything.
Because he can smell you. Your scent is filling the room and it’s becoming suffocating for him. He doesn’t want you to see this side of him, he wants to keep his filthy secret as far from you as possible. He should’ve known Kaname would play dirty, he should never have believed a vampire would be anything but manipulative.
Kaname’s teeth have come to rest on your skin - you can feel the point of his canines threatening to pierce through the surface. His tongue comes out, lips slightly sucking onto the spot, fueling the fire in your stomach, before his teeth finally break the surface of your skin.
Zero sucks in a sharp breath, and your fluttering eyes catch sight of the way his stance instantly changes. His jaw clenches, muscles tensing, and his gaze is now focused on the spot on your neck that’s bleeding a thin stream of red down your throat.
You notice, with alarm and a sudden, tragic understanding, the difference.
Zero’s lavender eyes are pulsing darker, wide and frenzied. His hands are balled into shaking fists that he holds by his side. His breathing is erratic.
To anyone else, it’s hardly a recognisable change. But to you, to your trained eyes and years of knowledge, it's terrifyingly evident.
You don’t know how it happened. You don’t know when it happened.
"Do you see that, Y/N?" Kaname whispers in your ear. His voice is low, and a shiver wracks through your entire body. You wonder how long Kaname has known for. There’s an ache in your heart at the thought of the two men keeping it from you. The thought of Zero suffering alone in silence. The realisation that with every hateful word he directed at the Night Class, he was berating himself. You can’t even begin to imagine how much he has suffered.
Why didn’t they tell you?
"He's a monster." Kaname whispers. Your eyes flicker back to Zero. He looks deranged, truly deranged, and you can’t help the slight flinch in your body as your eyes make contact.
“Look at him shaking, he can’t control himself. He wants to sink his teeth into your neck,” his tongue traces over the wound he inflicted, “he just wants to use you.”
You don’t speak. You don’t argue. The look on your face breaks Zero’s heart. You’re staring at him like somewhere deep down inside you, you truly believe Kaname’s words. Like he’s just another Level E, crazed by his lust for blood.
"He doesn't care about you." Kaname mumbles against your skin, his mouth still attached to your neck. His teeth scrape against your skin as he places soft kisses against your throat.
"K-Kaname," you whimper, as you feel his tongue on your skin once again, "s-stop, not here, I-"
The bass in his voice vibrates against your skin in a low groan, and your thighs instinctively clench, a hand reaching up to grip at his wrist. You feel the sharp pricks of his fangs as he nips at your skin, and you can’t keep down the low whimpers that you emit, your own arm trembling as you struggle to hold your own weight.
Zero’s teeth grit, spitting out his words as he tries not to let his eyes dart down to where your skirt has ridden up over your thighs.
"Kuran,” he growls, “leave her alone, she's not-"
Kaname’s lips detach from your neck with a loud, wet sound. The spot his lips had covered is cold in the air, and you instinctively reach out to him again, wanting the heat of his mouth back against you, despite your shame of being seen.
Kaname turns his head to face Zero, the neutral expression he held previously now darkened from the interruption of his actions.
“Do not speak, Kiryuu,” the vampire spits with a dark venom in his voice. You can only watch with growing haze in your vision as Zero’s mouth shuts closed. His eyes watch in exasperation as Kaname’s hands travel between your legs, and your mind quickly succumbs to his control, overwhelmed by your own lustful urges that Kaname’s touch has sparked.
When his fingers slip beneath the material of your underwear, the corners of his lips twitch. You’re soaking, but it’s no surprise, the scent of your arousal has been heavy in the room for a while. Only the slightest glance at Zero is enough to confirm that it’s affecting him too, his eyes instinctively dragging him to watch Kaname as he circles your sensitive clit with his finger, contently watching your expression as he teases your clit in front of the man you hold so dear.
Kaname has never liked Zero, but he’s tolerated him for your sake, despite the irritation that grows in his mind with every second you defend him. Every time you turned your back on him with the silver haired man at your side, Kaname felt a pure hot rush of envy seep through his calm facade.
Zero is not a threat to him. He never will be and he never could be. But you, you are. A threat to his power, a threat to his mind with your soft stares and your sweet voice as you plead for him to ‘not make a big scene’.
But Kaname does make a big scene of the way his fingers spread your lips apart, allowing Zero to see the wet stickiness of your cunt as his fingers peentrate your hole. He scissors his fingers, allowing the stickiness of your arousal to web between his fingers, before plunging them back in again.
The steady click, click of his fingers as they leave your cunt is shameful, but Kaname is unaffected, and your eyes are clenched shut, choosing to forget the situation as you trap your lower lip with your teeth in an attempt to silence the loud moan that builds up in your throat.
Zero doesn’t know why he won’t move. It’s Kaname, no doubt, with his pureblood abilities. He’s seen the man torture other vampires with nothing but a look, leave them screaming and wailing beneath him as he averts his attention elsewhere. Even as he averts his attention to your sopping pussy, pistoning his fingers in and out.
But something deep down inside of Zero tells him that perhaps the reason is something more entirely human. He watches your eyes glaze over in pleasure as your legs shake, completely pliant under his enemy's hand, and he can’t help but feel his cock pulse.
He’s had so many fantasies about you before; taking you on a patrol and fucking you against the nearest wall, bending you over your desk and fucking you dumb. Ruining you in front of your precious Kaname.
In his head, he had always been the one fucking you in front of the vampire. But even now, as the roles are reversed, he can’t help but enjoy what’s in front of him. You’re so fucking perfect, your moans are so hot and the gargled whimpers you let out around the fingers that Kaname shoves in your mouth have him seething in envy. He just wants to grab you by the hair and fuck your throat-
“Are you enjoying this, Kiryuu?”
Zero’s eyes are forced from the sight of your dripping to the smirk of the man before him.
“You’re a sick fuck.” Zero spits out.
“No sicker than you.” Kaname returns. “How many times have you wanted to be inside her cunt?” His fingers curl inside you, hammering up against your walls, and your thighs tense as your orgasm hits.
Your hips buck up, chasing the pleasure as raw heat burns inside of you. “Kaname, Kaname, oh my God.” Kaname’s smirk grows as you beg for him, enjoying the look of envy on Zero’s face as you grab at his sleeves with your fingers.
Kaname allows you only a moment before his fingers return to their pace, and you’re thrown back into throes of pleasure again.
“If it were up to me you’d have been disposed of long ago like the rest of your type.”
Kaname’s eyes remain dully on Zero as he speaks, despite the way you shake in his hold. The mocking echo of Zero’s past words hangs heavy in the air.
“There is only one reason I have allowed you to live, despite your evident lack of self-control.” Kaname sneers his words as he notes the way Zero’s body is trembling, eyes bloodshot and jittery, like the humans he has seen destroy themselves over and over again.
But Zero is no longer human.
“The only reason you’re standing here right now, the only reason I’m allowing you to be standing in my presence, is because Y/N wishes so.”
You whine again at the mention of your name, and let out a high-pitched squeak when Kaname’s fingers pull out suddenly, slapping down once on your clit. You can’t even hear what he’s saying anymore, the blood is rushing through your head so loudly.
His fingers return to your cunt. "K-Kaname-" you begin again, but you're silenced by his lips falling on yours, pulling you into a deep kiss, allowing his teeth to nip at your lip. He groans, pulling away again, adjusting your body.
“Let him watch.”
You don’t fight back against Kaname when he leans back in his chair, your body following his own, head tilting upwards. Your eyes flicker open, consciousness returning as Zero’s face fills your vision.
The rush of heat in your stomach at the sigh of his face tells you that deep down you want him to watch. You want him to see the way your arousal drips down your thighs as Kaname works his fingers inside of you, coaxing a second orgasm from you.
You want him to see your shiny cheeks and swollen lips as you cry from the overstimulation, clenching down on his fingers as you buck wildly, screams silenced by the fingers that enter your mouth to press against your tongue.
"U-uh,” the saliva builds up in your mouth and you cough, Kaname removing his fingers to allow you to breathe.
"What do you say, Y/N?" He questions, his eyes still trained on Zero. He wants to show him that it’s too late. That he lost, after everything. That nobody could ever make you fall apart beneath them in the way that you do for him, and that he will never allow anybody else to have the chance. Kaname claimed you a long time ago, and now you need to prove that you belong to him,
You do, of course. His deep voice sends a chill through your body as you desperately speak. "I love you!" You rush out, with shallow breaths, just as he presses against your clit once again, and you cum, for the third time that evening. Your vision blanks as a clear liquid spurts out around Kaname’s fingers, staining the material of your skirt and the fabric of Kaname’s trousers.
“IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou-” You chant as he rides you through the orgasm, and then your chest heaves, exhausted as you inhale. Your eyes flicker shut, leaning back against Kaname’s chest as fatigue hits you.
Zero snaps out of it at the sight of your dazed form, scrutinised under Kaname’s gaze as he watches the silver haired man register his own actions. Kaname relishes in the disgust that takes over Zero’s features, finally aimed at nobody but himself. He loves the way the younger man looks disgusted, entirely ashamed of himself. The way his eyes widen, clutching his hair as he turns, staggering, to leave the room.
Kaname is satisfied by your soft breaths in his arms.
ohhh i love this man. there is more coming. i need more vampire knight x reader authors i loveee this man he was my og yandere ugh. also vampire knight has one of the best aesthetics for the manga and THE best soundtrack
also this is part of a little series of yandere one shots of anime/genshin characters i did that you can find on ao3 here
//
You make your way towards the entrance that leads to the balcony, trailing behind Kaname, who encompasses the attention of all those below as he advances across the grey stone.
He sits, lazily placing himself down on the chair in the centre of the balcony. His eyes briefly scan the ongoings of those below him with little interest, before they flick back to you, waiting anxiously behind the shield of the doors.
He offers you a smile, a sight saved only for you in his otherwise uncaring demeanour. It's the same comforting twitch of his lips that you've received all your life, and it gives you that bit of courage to step out into the eyes of so many.
It's nerve-wracking, being under the scrutinising gazes of so many who judge you, who envy you, whose primal desires to kill spark as they stare at you, held back only by the man before you, and the unspoken claim he holds over you.
"Y/N," he calls, beckoning you with two, long fingers from his seat, "sit here." He looks at you, expectantly, and you almost stumble as you rush to follow his demands with a dumb, instinctual submission that brings an amused smile to his lips.
The seat is more a love seat than anything else, but the design is a little different, thinner on one end, so that you only have a little room to sit comfortably, but you move nervously to perch on the edge, nonetheless.
You turn with a start at the sudden touch of a hand on your waist, to see Kaname looking at you with a slight frown. You speak, rushed.
"Should I move to the other-"
"No," he's quick to silence you, "sit here." His legs open a little wider, and he pats one hand down on his thigh.
You can't stifle the little gasp you let out, turning your head quickly to the crowd in the hopes that nobody is watching. But Kaname is a Pureblood vampire, after all, and all attention naturally falls to him, and his date for the evening.
You move to sit on his lap, hesitantly. You sit down gingerly, worrying that you're too heavy or that you'll make him uncomfortable, but a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his chest and onto his lap, trapping your body against his own.
"Don't be afraid, Y/N," goosebumps prickle on your skin at the sound of his voice beside your ear, carrying a teasing tone, "you won't hurt me." His other hand reaches beneath the slit of your dress, a finger dragging shamelessly down the skin of your thigh.
"Look who's here." Kaname whispers, gently turning your chin so that your eyes fall onto a familiar head of white hair, separate from the rest. Lavender eyes stare up at you with a dark glare.
"Zero-"
Kaname's mouth attaches to your neck, sucking lightly at the soft skin, and all breath and words are stolen from your body. You fall silent and still in his grasp, a warmth spreading through your body at the contact of his lips on your skin. But your eyes are still open, and your heart aches with guilt the moment that you see Zero's mouth curl in disgust, eyes narrowing at the sight of you, so pliant in Kaname's arms.
He's furious.
"K-Kaname, don't-" You protest, lightly trying to push him away as the heat of Zero's stare burns into your skin. You try to convince him, not daring to look at Zero anymore. "E-everyone's staring!"
There's a sharp nip to your skin, and you can feel the warm trickle of blood as it travels down your neck, leaving a dark stain. It's almost as if the collective body of vampire's holt for just a second, and you have no doubt now that everyone's attention is on that singular drop of red trailing down your neck. But then it's gone with a long, slow drag of Kaname's tongue against your skin.
NOTE: just want to confirm that although at the beginning there is non-consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, it quickly becomes consensual. however dubcon has been tagged just in case.
“Does that feel good?” You whine at the feeling of Dottore’s fingers inside of you, slowly pumping in and out of you at a torturous pace. There’s no need to ask the question. He knows exactly how frustrating this entire situation is for you, and you no longer see the point in expressing your displeasure. All you’d get in response would be a deep, condescending chuckle and a lengthier, torturous drag of his digits along your walls.
You’re laid on one of Dottore’s experimenting tables, legs spread and your bare back against the metal, warmed from the heat of your body. It’s not really an ‘experiment’, despite the plethora of meaningless questions he tends to throw your way. He likes to chide you when you can’t answer, shaming you for being ‘useless’ in his experiments, cooing at the way you stutter stupidly for him. But Dottore undoubtedly gets some sort of kick from watching you slowly fall apart beneath him, dumb and pliant as he dons his white coat and trademark mask, like some sick, fantasy roleplay. Though you can’t say you're opposed to it yourself.
There’s something about being completely helpless before him that spurs some hot feeling in your stomach and has you clenching around the digits that have suddenly picked up their pace. You moan out, hips bucking into his fingers, which earns you a light ‘tut’ from the Harbinger, and a harsh slap to your swollen clit.
“What a bad patient, you can't even stay still for your doctor whilst he takes care of you.”
His fingers scissor inside you, pressing against your sensitive walls with no mercy. You try to hold back a moan, but instead your attempt turns into a high pitched squeak that has a smile growing beneath Dottore’s mask. You try to force out an “I’m sorry, Doctor”, knowing how much your submission pleases him, but your mouth falls slack half-way as pleasure numbs your mind. His thumb is playing with your clit, tracing neat circles that are torturous to your heightened senses.
You can feel that twisting pleasure getting bigger and bigger, a red hot heat taking over your senses as you whimper loudly for him.
Then, with no warning, everything halts.
Your whimpers melt into a betrayed whine, eyes flitting to Dottore in desperation, more than ready to beg for him to continue, before you notice that his attention is turned towards the door.
A gloved hand rests on the silver door handle.
In the midst of your pleasure, you’d failed to notice the sound of the metal door creaking open. You crane your neck in apprehension to see who has stepped through the door and now has a clear view of you, bare, at the hands of the psychotic Harbinger.
At the sight of Pantalone’s long black hair and knowing-smile, you cover your face in humiliation, twisting your body away from him and trying to cover yourself as best as you can. You’ve never been more humiliated in your life, and to make it worse, you know Dottore must be thrilled by your little exhibition. The quickened beating of your heart and the heat in your core shamefully tells you that maybe he’s not the only one.
“Oh dear,” Pantalone’s voice fills the room, silent except for the whirring of machines in the background, “it seems she’s a little shy today. Don’t stop on my behalf, Dottore. I’d prefer not to disturb your…experiment.” His eyes flit to your body briefly, giving you a warm smile, before returning to look at the masked man. “Though I must ask, what exactly is the purpose of all this noise? I had always been under the impression these walls were sound-proof.” You can hear the teasing lilt in his voice, and as you hear him step closer you want to cave in on yourself. His gaze is hot on your body, eyes slowly tracing down your figure, lingering appreciatively on the soft swell of your breasts as you inhale shakily.
Dottore speaks, your teeth biting down on your lip to hide a moan as his fingers resume their ministrations in your pussy, the ‘click’ ‘click’ of your arousal filling the room. He hums, lightly. “It’s a…personal curiosity, I suppose. An experiment of brain activity and pleasure.” His gaze falls between your legs. “I elicit pleasure", a curl of his fingers, "and she reacts”. In time with his words, you let out a breathy moan, to which he answers with an amused scoff. “It would seem there’s a limit even to the most insatiable,” both gazes turn to your body, “I simply intend to find it.”
“How effective.” The leather of black gloves tickles your skin, tracing up your stomach and between your breasts, so slow it’s almost painful. Your head is pulled to the side, and you’re face to face with the ninth Harbinger. “It could make for a fine torture method." The smile is still present on his face as he speaks, eyes crinkling, and you shudder, not missing the sadistic tone of Pantalone’s words.
“Could I be of assistance?” The question is asked so innocently, despite it being anything but, the words laced with an shameless ulterior motive as they drip from his lips.
“That would hardly be a fair trial.” Dottore argues from beside him, and the words sound conflicted, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. It should be so sickening, the way the two men easily play into such a lewd roleplay, but the way you’re growing wetter by the second only spurs the two men on. There’s a laugh, Pantalone’s voice is rich and thick. “Propriety has never been my strong suit.”
You know it’s no lie.
You fail at stifling a moan as the fingers inside of you curl again, and you can’t help the tears that sting at your eyes as Pantalone lets out a light chuckle at your pitiful state. The tears slowly drip down your face, and you flinch slightly at the leather glove that wipes them away gently, his eyes peering into your own with interest.
The same gloved thumb trails down your cheek, tugging at your bottom lip and pulling your jaw open, before two fingers are pushed past your lips and into your mouth, where they rest on your tongue. You can taste the leather of his gloves and the salt from your tears as the material presses down on your tongue. A chill goes down your spine at the look on Pantalone’s face as he suddenly pushes his fingers to the back of your throat, the sadistic glint in his eye fading into an amused smirk at your lack of response.
“No gag? It seems you’ve trained her well, Dottore. I’m inclined to give you my compliments.” He lets out a soft sigh, “Though I must admit, I was looking forward to a struggle.”
He pauses to admire the sight of your swollen lips around his fingers, a smile on his face as he looks down at your wide eyed expression. “I wonder, perhaps, whether I’d get a better reaction with something a little bigger.” He muses, grinning as he removes his fingers slowly, and watching the string of saliva break as he pulls them away. The sight of it is so dirty, and your walls clench when the same two fingers come to swat at your cheek harshly. His eyes sparkle at the way you flinch beneath him. “But we’ll get to that later. For now I’m more interested in exactly what it is that’s making her let out such lewd noises.” You watch with wide eyes as Pantalone steps round the table, focus never leaving your body as they travel across your skin, coming to rest at the apex of your thighs where Dottore’s fingers are once again pistoning in and out. “She sounds utterly pathetic.”
“She’s become unusually responsive in the last few minutes. I wonder if perhaps your being here has elicited some sort of reaction.” The masked man pulls away, the latex of his glove shining with slick as he scissors his two fingers, putting your arousal on display for his own sick satisfaction.
Pantalone looks down at you through his glasses with a smile. “Why, Y/N, I’m flattered.”
Your stomach turning in knots as Pantalone’s words linger in the air. A gloved thumb is reached out to stroke your cheek again, and you subconsciously lean into Dottore’s touch. “She’s always such a perfect subject,” he muses, “so responsive and pliant.” His words hold a slight affection that you do your best to ignore, but the heat that shoots through your body is hard to deny.
Pantalone’s eyes track your expression, taking note of your reaction to Dottore’s words with amusement. “I wonder, Dottore, whether or not you could give me a demonstration.” The proposition receives no debate, Dottore revels at the thought of breaking you in front of his comrade, the raw show of power it would be. He doesn’t intend to play nice with you today.
“Hm, I think we can do that. She’s been begging for me since the moment I touched her. Tell us what you want, Y/N.”
The feeling of his fingers pistoning in and out of you feels good, but they’ve decreased to a slow, lazy pattern that leaves you increasingly frustrated, desperate for the pleasure that you want, that you know he’ll give you. But he knows you hate acknowledging just how filthy you are, how much of a slut you are beneath the touch of a Harbinger. Your body can’t hide the way it craves Pantalone’s attention, but your mind is still too strong. He knows what you want. And he wants you dumb, pliant, broken for him.
“I want to feel good” you mutter, eyes focused sheepishly on him in an effort to build up courage, despite your vulnerable position. He tuts, clicking his tongue and delivering a sharp slap to your thigh that only adds to the heat in your core.
“Please,” you force out, “I need your cock- need you to make me feel good.” Your nerves are a mess at the idea of performing for your audience, but you need his touch. He’s lining up at your entrance, letting the head of his cock trail over your swollen clit, teasing you. The tip bumps against the bundle of nerves and you gasp, loudly. You can feel the heat of Pantalone’s eyes as Dottore pushes into you, a loud moan escaping your body as your head drops down, eyes clenched shut at the growing feeling of fullness. He inches forward, giving you little time to adjust to the rush of pleasure. His own gloved hands grip your waist as the rock of his hips falls into a steady pace. His fingers trail over your skin as he drags his hands over your chest, fisting at your tits. He grasps the flesh in his palms, rolling your nipples beneath his fingers as he pounds into you.
“She’s reacting so well, I can feel her cunt clenching around me.” You’re rewarded with a string of harsh, stronger thrusts that have your pussy clenching down on him, heavy breaths loud in the room. The praise makes your stomach erupt in butterflies, and your eyes open to focus on the man thrusting into you. His crimson eyes are focused on your cunt as it swallows his cock, brows furrowed slightly as he thrusts.
“Look at those tits,” Pantalone muses, reaching to slap harshly at them, and you gasp at the hot pain, eyes darting to meet his own as he stares down at you with a cruel grin. He reaches out again, and you can feel the pleasure building up in your core.
“Ah-ah,” oh God, “ ‘m gonna, can I-”
“No.”
It’s Pantalone that speaks, and you let out a pained cry the second the word leaves his lips, eyes turning desperately to Dottore who simply smirks, continuing to thrust as you shake beneath him. “You haven’t even tried to please our guest, Y/N.” You whimper, shaking your head as you silently beg for release, but Dottore’s eyes only harden and you know he’s not pleased by your defiance. You’re at the mercy of the two of them tonight.
“I’d love to see the way her pretty lips swallow my cock,” Pantalone murmurs, pulling at your lips again as you look at him with wide eyes. “I want to see her choke.”
Your eyes widen at the blatancy of Pantalone’s words; so depraved coming from such a refined man. You’ve heard of his escapades before, crueller than even Dottore can be, and you have to try to push down the truth that this situation has appeared once or twice in your late-night fantasies, amongst others. There’s a burning heat in his eyes as he looks down at you, reaching a hand out to lift your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. Tears form in your eyes from the pleasure of Dottore’s thrusts.
“Do you want my cock, sweetheart?” He’s smiling, still, so gently, but the grip on your chin is tight and painful. You nod your head quickly in response, eyes rolling back in your head as Dotorre hits the spot inside of you, but Pantalone’s hand reaches up, and your head is knocked to the side by a slap that stings your cheek. The moan you let out is unintentional, and you can’t help the way you clench around Dottore as your brain processes the blow. Your hips stutter, and you’re flooded with shame as you think that you’ve hit your peak, body convulsing on the table, before it’s once again halted by Dottore pulling out of you. This time you let out a cry, frustrated and high-pitched. You were so close, it’s almost painful.
“You little slut,” Dottore sounds irritated, “have we rendered you dumb already? Answer him properly.”
“I-I’m sorry, Doctor, please-” you begin.
“Doctor?” Pantalone interrupts, mockingly as he looks at Dottore in amusement, “How decent of you, Dottore.” His eyes find yours again. “Well, I’m a simple man, sweetheart. Sir will do just fine.”
You’ve called Pantalone ‘Sir’ before- it’s an expected honorific from someone of your position- but saying it now, with your body is at his mercy, you’re certain you’ll never be able to address him in such a way in public ever again.
“Please, Sir.” You make your voice a little higher, a little whinier. “I want your cock, I need it.”
You wait with anticipation at the sound of his belt clinking, and suddenly his cock comes into view. It’s dripping pre-cum, rock hard and flushed a deep red. One of his hands comes to wrap around it, pumping it lightly as he presses the head to your mouth, smearing his pre-cum across your plush lips with a groan.
“You look so tempting like this, Y/N. So desperate and needy for us.” Pantalone grabs his cock, and slaps it against your skin. Your mouth opens, lips wrapping around the head, sucking lightly. His hips shift in response, forcing his cock a little further into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around it, tracing a vein that goes down his shaft, and steeling your nerves as you prepare for the likely outcome.
It’s not uncommon for Dottore to fuck your throat, but that doesn’t mean you’re used to dealing with the lack of oxygen and brutal thrusts into your oesophagus. And something tells you from the look in Pantalone’s eye, that he’s going to be particularly rough.
“You’re so perfect, sweetheart” he sighs as he pushes into your throat steadily. His hand comes to rest around your neck, feeling the bulge as he pushes further. Dottore lets out a deep groan as he watches the way you swallow the Harbinger’s length. “Do you want to choke on my cock? For me to fuck your throat like a doll?” He puts a bit of pressure, and the glint in his eye is terrifying when you take in the vulnerable position he has you in, but you try your best to nod, shamelessly.
His thrusts pick up the pace, and suddenly you can’t breathe, sputtering around his cock as your throat constricts from his thrusts. You gag, tears forming in your ears, and he lets out a light moan, fingers gripping tighter on your neck. The blood that’s rushing to your head is making you go dizzy. You can hear the lewd noises coming from your throat, the glug glug from every thrust. You can feel his balls slapping your face, wet with a mix of your spit and his precum.
Pantalone’s eyes shut and his brows crease, letting out breathy moans as he tells you he calls you his little doll, promising to use you and fuck you like the whore you are.
Dottore has started thrusting into you again, harder than the shallow thrusts from before. He’s fucking you with intent, gripping the flesh of your thighs with a bruising strength as he pulls you onto his cock, strings of low curses leaving his lips. He watches the way you connect, squeezing the fat of your ass with a tight grip and a mean laugh at your whine. He’s angling himself inside of you, bullying that little spot he knows so well, coaxing wave after wave of sheer pleasure from you.
You’re split between the two men, lost in the pleasure they’re giving you. Dottore’s balls slap against your skin as Pantalone’s cock fills your throat, each pushing you towards the other so that you’re constantly full and writhing beneath them. Their groans make your walls flutter, small praises and insults going straight to your cunt.
The room is hot now and you feel sticky from sweat and body fluids, your arousal dripping down your thighs to the metal below you. Two pairs of gloved hands grope your body and all you think about is the way you feel; all their words are drowned out to a distant murmur as your head pounds.
“Sh-shit, she’s going to come soon, I can feel it” Dottore groans out, thrusting in deep to bruise your walls.
“Would you like to come, Y/N?”
You instantly try to say ‘yes’, to make any sort of noise to let him know that yes, you want to come, more than anything, but any attempt you make is drowned out by his cock hitting your throat and replaced by wet gags. Pantalone moans at the feel of the vibrations from your throat, thrusting harder as a shiver racks through his body at the sounds you make on his cock.
“But you still haven’t pleased your guest yet. How inconsiderate.”
You’ve been edged for hours already today, your limbs ache and your nerves are on fire. Your brain is mush and all you can think about is the wet sound of the two cocks as they split you apart. You’ve done so well, been so good for them. Why are they doing this to you?
Dottore’s thrusts slow down, until he’s once again shallowly thrusting into your desperate hole, a smirk on his face as he watches you squirm beneath him.
The two must have made some sort of non-verbal communication, because they both pull out simultaneously.
The head of Dottore’s cock stretches you so perfectly as he pulls out, and your body suffers from the sudden emptiness. The whines you let out are unashamed and needy, your brain having completely forgotten your pride in front of the two men. But it’s not long before you’re blessed with the pleasure of yet another head entering your hole, and you barely notice the difference as Pantalone sinks into you, bottoming out with a pleased groan that you respond to with grateful whimpers and whines, instantly rocking your hips back against his own.
“Yes, yes, I know, it feels good,” he chuckles, thumb reaching down to rub circles into your clit, “you feel so good for me.” You let out another moan, but it’s quickly silenced as Dottore enters your mouth.
You look up at him with watery eyes, imagining the face you know behind the mask. His thumb comes down to your cheek, gently wiping away a tear as he begins to thrust into your mouth.
It’s nothing like Pantalone. He’s still rough, his strokes are deep and you still choke around his thick length, but his hands are cradling your face, fingers brushing over your skin. So unlike the gloved hand Pantalone has fisted in your hair, pulling at the strands until you feel a sharp burn in your scalp.
You swirl your tongue around the head of Dottore’s cock, filled with the desire to make him feel good. You crave his praise and approval as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you once again take his cock as far as you can into your throat. He groans again, and you respond with your own moan as Pantalone allows his cock to pull fully out of your walls, and you instinctively clench around nothing.
“Such a pretty girl for me, such a pretty patient,” his brows furrow as the vibration of your moan reaches him, “s-so good for me, my pretty girl.”
Pantalone thrusts in again, and your head is forced onto Dottore’s cock from the strength of his thrust. You struggle to let your throat relax as you take him deeper than before. Your eyes water from the rough nature, but your walls clench down, grateful to be filled once again.
Even the tiniest touch is enough to have your muscles spasming now, desperate for a release that you’ve been taunted with now so many times. Pantalone seems to notice, a hand coming down to torture you further as he rubs your clit, applying a cruel amount of pressure.
“Do you want to come, Y/N?”
Your words are silenced by Dottore’s cock in your mouth, but you try your hardest to make a sound of agreement through a desperate, repeated moan. You rock your hips back against Pantalone again, begging with your body.
“Oh, isn’t she just adorable,” Pantalone muses, “such a good girl.” He watches you writhe beneath him for a moment longer, before he speaks.
“You can come, dear.”
His hips deliver a succession of hard thrusts that make the head of his cock bully into your sensitive spot, and you don’t even think. Your vision is white and all you can hear are the broken stutters of one of the two Harbingers chanting “good girl”.
Dottore pounds into you, pale hands white from his grip on your skin. You’re pulling yourself down onto his cock as your tongue swirls around the length of his shaft even as you orgasm, tears flowing from the overstimulation as the two use your body to bring themselves to their peaks.
Finally, you feel a warmth fill you as Pantalone fills you, seeping down your thighs as he pulls out with a shaky breath. Dottore finishes moments later, pulling his cock out of your mouth at the last minute to paint your skin with his cum. Your legs twitch as you lay on the examining table, head falling against the metal as you try to regain your breath. You hardly feel the two pairs of lips that press softly against your skin as your eyes shut, softly.
Pantalone’s voice is surprisingly softer as he lets his gloved fingers skim over your soft skin, marked by his grip.
“Perhaps you could notify me of her next appointment, Doctor.”
WARNING: kidnapping, noncon, breeding, baby-trapping, usage of ‘Mommy and Daddy’ but not in a sexual way, slapping, slight mention of bloood
///
“I want to go home.”
His hands freeze in the middle of the pattern he’s drawing across your thigh, his other arm tightening around your waist in warning, pressing your head further against his broad chest. You can see his face in the reflection of the mirror that faces the bed; he’s expressionless as he looks at you through its image, bright hair a little messy.
“You are home, Y/N.”
He doesn’t resume the pattern, waiting for you to speak.
“I want to go home .”
You’ve learnt your limits with the red-haired Harbinger, and you know you overstepped into dangerous territory the moment you first spoke. You’re not sure why you decided to say it now, of all times, as he holds you against him in his bed. It’s his bed, not yours. It will never be yours- you promised yourself that the first night he left you there, tied up with ropes that bit into your wrists. The fake domesticity of your position doesn’t cover up the fact you’re held here, captive.
He hasn’t replied.
You’re not sure why you decided to say it, but you have no idea why he let you. Why he entertained your plea with anything but the usual sharp backhand across your face. The adrenaline rushes through your system with every breath.
“I want to go home to my family.”
“I am your family, Y/N.” His cold fingers return to your skin, and you jolt at the sensation, his fingers digging into you in response. “Teucer, Antonia, they’re your family too.”
They’re not your family, no matter how many times he brings you to visit them with one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. No matter how many drawings Teucer gifts you when Childe brings you to visit, no matter the way you smile and chat with Antonia under his supervision. It’s not their fault, you have to remind yourself. But the resentment is there.
The images of your parents flash across your brain, hazy and distant, like they’re ready to slip from your grasp. You shake your head, warm tears gathering on your waterline as you shiver in his arms.
“No, no, no ” You pull away from his grasp, pushing to the end of the bed so you can distance yourself from the madness he pushes upon you. The pain that blooms across your arm as he yanks you back is searing, and a dull ache begins as he throws you back onto the bed. The strained patience is gone from his voice, and now his expression is dark.
You scream, thrashing fruitlessly beneath the strength of arms, encaging you beneath him. You’re hysteric, the rush of emotions taking over you senses as your shrill screams fill the room. The harsh slap that hits your face has enough strength to make you collapse on the bed. Eyes wide open, mouth agape, silenced mid-scream. Your entire face stings.
“Your family?” He spits the words at you. “When will you learn that you’re mine ? You don’t need anyone but me .” There’s a moment of silence, and you can almost see the moment a thought runs across his mind, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you. His hands move to your waist and yank the flimsy pyjama shorts down your legs. “Fuck it.” He rips the flimsy fabric away entirely, “I’ll give you a fucking family.”
You hardly register his words, still paralysed from the hit. You try to cry out again, but your words are a little slurred as a drop of blood trickles down from your mouth. He’s above you, brows furrowed in a way that so unlike him, even in all his cruelty, the dark look on his features is wholly unfamiliar to you.
“Gonna make me a Daddy, give me a little baby.” He’s speaking, but his words are distant, like he’s speaking to himself, like you’re not there. Only this time the words sink into your brain, and panic floods its way into your mind, urging you to escape at the thought of bearing his child. You struggle at the touch of fingers in your cunt, traitorously wet despite the situation.
He wastes little time with foreplay, enough to slide into you with little difficulty, and then he starts thrusting. There’s no build up to the way he wrecks your body, hips hammering against you with a sole purpose. You sob into the sheets as you clench around him, uselessly begging for him to stop.
“No, no , Childe I don’t want-” you cry at the strength of his thrusts, burying your face in your hands as he continues to pound into you. Tears streak down your face, but he pays no attention to them, chanting filthy words into the empty room.
“ Shit , gonna fuck you so full, gonna get you round with my kid.” You let out a broken moan as his fingers rub at your clit, pleasure building in your stomach despite the way your mind protests.
“ Fuck , tell me you want it.” You don’t reply, eyes squeezed shut, but his sudden grip on your hair has your eyes flying open, the pain enough to make you submit as tears prick your eyes.
“ Please ,” you choke out, letting out a sharp cry as your head goes flying back and your skull burns as he yanks your hair again, harder this time. You splutter, a messy string of words leaving your lips. “Please, I w-want it, w-want it inside, please Childe-”
His hips stutter inside of you, voice raspy. “Fuck , say that again” he demands.
“ Please, Childe, please ,” You hate it, but there’s little you can do against the strength of a Harbinger. You knew this day would come, but you never thought you’d give up so easily.
He lets out a deep groan, before thrusting into you one final time, and you can feel the warmth of his seed as it fills you, sealing your fate beneath him. You’ll forever be bound to him now, forever his .
Your legs shake, whimpering as he pulls out. His eyes fall to your slit, a trail of his seed dribbling out. Quickly, his fingers dip down, scooping up the cum that leaks out. He pushes it back in, flexing his fingers cruelly before he leans down to place a kiss on your lips, content.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your parents learn the good news.”
also this is part of a little series of yandere one shots of anime/genshin characters i did that you can find on ao3 here
//
You stare in shock at the sight in front of you. There’s a pale-white full moon illuminating the darkness, shining a pretty light onto the golden rocks in front of you. But the ground is tarnished with a deep crimson, seeping into the soft earth as it falls from the mountain of bodies slashed up on the ground.
There has to be at least twenty of them. They’re all still in uniform, their delusions hanging from their lifeless bodies as they lay still. You don’t recognise all of them, most just unfamiliar faces you’ve not yet come to know in your time spent alongside them, but your eyes automatically fall on the cold features of a familiar face.
Ivan lays ten feet away from where you stand. You remember the way he took you in when you ran away, lost in the mountains of Liyue that seemed to circle forever. He was sympathetic, welcoming, kind to you as you explained to him you’d lost track of your group . You hadn’t told him the truth, had spared him of the knowledge that the 11th Harbinger was currently searching for you across Liyue. If you had, you were certain you’d be turned in with little hesitation, and you were desperate for food and shelter. But now, as you stare down at the boot resting on top of his head, you feel a crushing guilt from the knowledge that this is your doing .
“Y/N, you’re back!” He’s got that ever-present jovial tone in his voice as he looks down at you, specks of red coating his pale cheeks. “You’re early, y’know? I was hoping I’d have a bit more time to clean myself up before you returned." He’s speaking with a playful tone, but the blood dripping from his hands is anything but as he advances towards you, stepping harshly on the dead bodies that litter the floor as he gets closer.
His arms reach out to embrace you, and you instinctively flinch away, your brain finally moving from the shocked state you’d been standing in. Your body trembles as you try not to throw up, cold tears escaping your waterline and running down your cheeks silently.
He stops still, a frown appearing on his face as if he’s confused, before his eyes flash down to his hands, coated red with the blood of your comrades.
“Oh,” he lets out a light chuckle and brings his hands down to his sides, smearing more blood across his uniform as he wipes it off his hands. You notice the way it’s dried on his skin, and wonder just how long he’d been standing there, watching the bodies bleed out, waiting for you to return.
He reaches out again, and you’re ready to take a step back, but he moves quicker this time. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly to his chest. The smell of iron is nauseating, but he leaves you no room to move.
“How did you manage to get lost again?” He speaks softly, leaning his head down and speaking gently. You can feel the menacing grin on his lips as he leans into your neck, placing light kisses that trail up to your ear. His grip grows a little tighter, fingers digging into your sides. “Maybe you just need a leash, hmm?”
WARNINGS: age gap, boss x babysitter dynamic, solo masturbation, creepy behaviour, dirty thoughts, fantasising, accidental exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, accidental voyeurism, breeding,
///
Wagner just loves you so, so much. And he's a little desperate.
///
Wagner gets back from work late, it was one of those days where the commissions seemed to pile up, never ending as he worked tirelessly in the heat of the day.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door, knowing fully well that you could easily still be awake, waiting for him to get home. He tries to ignore the stirring of his cock in his trousers at the thought of your face lighting up when you see him walk through the door.
But it's silent. He flicks the lights on, putting his keys down gently on the counter. The room is empty, a little colouring book left open on the kitchen table. Wagner walks over to it, smiling at the little scribble of three people on the paper. There’s a little boy in the centre, a tall, large man with dark hair holding his hand on one side, and a smiling woman on the other. He smiles at the little caption below it.
“Luka, Y/N and Daddy.”
You look like a happy family.
He takes the book, carefully tearing the page out to stick it up on the wall, next to the photos of his son on the wall. There’s a few cut off at awkward angles, so that it’s just Luka in the photo, the other person swiftly forgotten. There’s some with just Wagner and him, most taken by you, like the one with Luka on his shoulders, gripping onto his hair as he screams with laughter at the park. Another is Wagner just after a workout, Luka hanging off one of his biceps, and Wagner can still hear his giggles as he lifted him off of the ground over and over again. There’s one of you with Luka sitting on your knee, teaching him the shapes from a little book and one of the two of you cuddled up in the garden last summer.
But his favourite is the one placed in the middle. It’s a bit blurry, Luka moved just as it was supposed to be taken. It’s you standing in front of him, in his arms, with Luka in your own. You’re looking down at him with a smile, and Wagner is watching the both of you with a look of nothing but adoration.
He keeps a small version of that in his wallet.
He checks Luka’s bedroom next, being extra careful not to disturb him as he opens the door slowly, to avoid the creak it tends to make. The light filters in slowly from the hallway, and Wagner’s arm stills quickly as he takes in the sight before him.
You’re laid on the big armchair, eyes shut as your chest rises and falls at a steady pace. Luka is held in your arms still, his head resting against your chest as he curls himself into your body. The book you must’ve been reading to him is on the ground, open.
He walks slowly into the room, avoiding the creaking floorboards he knows are there, and reaches for one of the spare blankets he keeps on the shelves, the thickest one he can find. You move a little as he drapes it over the two of you, and he stops briefly to admire the both of you once more before stepping away, shutting the door softly once again.
He stands outside the door, still, for a moment. The picture of the two of you is seared into his brain. You looked so domestic, so sweet, so perfect as you held his son in your arms, as if he were your own. You’ve told him so many times before, sheepishly, that you think of Luka as your own, despite your youth. Despite just being the babysitter. And you don’t know the extent of the emotions that welled up inside him when you told him that.
His thoughts fall back onto your face, how soft your lips looked and how sweet you looked as you slept. A pang of guilt hits him as he feels his cock stir at the thought. He's not been laid in a while. He doesn't really get the chance anymore. So he has to find time when he can.
It’s a bad habit, but a man has his needs. Especially a man like Wagner, whose libido tends to be in proportion to his size.
He knows it’s wrong as he retreats to his room, shutting the door quickly and grabbing his laptop.
Resorting to porn isn’t the most ideal situation, but he has no other option right now. He can’t remember the last time he had his cock enveloped in anything but his own fist, and the stress from work hadn’t helped the build up of his need for release.
He starts the video quickly, just loud enough for him to be able to hear it. It’s the same one as always; low quality production of a girl that looks nothing like you pounded into a bed by a man twice her age. He doesn’t really watch it, he just lets it play in the background, because it's only saving grace is the woman’s voice. She sounds a bit like you, not enough for him to be fully satisfied, but enough to leave it running in the background as his mind creates sinful images of you, hoping that one day he’ll be able to hear how you’d really sound as you’re split apart on his cock.
His eyes flick to the door, noticing the way the light seeps in from the outside. You’re so close to him. What would he do if you walked in on him now? How would you react? He can just see the wide-eyed look on your face, pretty lips parted with a soft gasp as you apologise. You’d never be able to look at him the same again.
A large hand reaches down, his eyes shut, and he rubs his thick cock through the fabric of his boxers. He’s already hard and leaking pre-cum as his pulse flows through his body in a dull thud. Quickly, he pulls down the band, letting his cock spring free. It slaps against his pelvis and he groans as his fingers encircle its girth, stroking it slowly as the video starts to pick up. Pre-cum leaks from the tip in fat globs as his hand moves up and down slowly, squeezing his length lightly as he lets out a quiet groan.
Unsurprisingly for a man of his build, Wagner is big. He's long, 7 inches at least, and thick in a way that makes women go dumb, pliant and begging for him as he stretches them out. He imagines the way you’d stretch around him as he first enters you. He’d have to prep you first, slowly adding fingers, watching you find release from just his hands until he deemed you ready for him. And then he’d do it slowly, inch by inch. His hands would grip your waist, eyes flitting between watching your face and watching the way you swallow his length.
The thoughts spiral into depravity, the images of you appearing in his head become more and more lewd.
You, above him, straddling his body with your thighs. You’d feel so good around him, so tight and wet, moaning out his name in such a pretty voice as he fucks into you. Your nails would dig into his back, eyes rolling as he plays with your clit, admiring the way you lose any thought inside that pretty head of yours. He’d fuck up into you with as much force as he can manage, slapping your tits as they bounce above him to hear you whimper in pain. He’d leave marks on your body, sucking your skin and nipping at your flesh as you’d convulse around him, begging him for more and more and more. He’d pound at your little spot, watching the way your body tenses as you squirt on his cock, pleas for more trailing into broken cries to slow down, too much, as he overstimulates your cunt. He’d pull you down to his face, pulling your lips to his own as he kisses you with depravity, hot and messy and bruising.
He suppresses a guttural moan. The head of his cock is a deep red, and the noise made with every thrust is loud and wet. A string of curses leaves his mouth, filthy and vicious, in a deep growl as he applies a little more pressure.
You wouldn't need to think. He'd take such good care of you. He'd buy you pretty clothes and jewellery and all the clothes you could ever want. You’d just need to love him, to love Luka. To greet him with a meal when he returns from work, dressed in a cute little apron, and bend over the kitchen table when he tells you to, making such pretty noises for him as he lets out some stress.
He’s so disgusting. He’s twice your age, your boss , yet lewd thoughts of you are constantly running through his mind, filthy enough to drive a saint to madness. Your name leaves his lips in a mantra of groans, entwined with dark curses.
Fuck you’d be so good for him. He can see you cuddled up with him on an evening, dressed in some cute panties just for him. He’d be so gentle, eat you out until you’re squirming beneath his grip and his mouth is dripping with your juices. And then you’d be on the floor beneath him, kneeling with eyes trained on his face and a look of pure lust. Those pretty eyes he finds himself admiring so often would stare up at him, glossy with tears and desperation as you let out depraved whines, your tongue sticking out as you all but beg for his cock. He’d give it to you, ease his thick, hot length into your open mouth, balls tightening when he feels your throat constrict around him as he pushes in, gagging for him. He’d whisper soft praises to you, giving you a second, watching the way your throat gets used to his cock, and then he’d thrust. You’d gag again, drool running down your mouth like some filthy whore, and he’d tell you that you’re doing so well, that you’re so good for him. He’d fuck your throat with strength
His hips buck up, brows furrowing and a low hiss escaping from his mouth. He wants you so badly, so, so, badly, he just wants you to stay with him, to love him, to fuck him, to live with him, to be his .
And he’d make sure to get you pregnant. It’d be the first thing he’d do. He’d bring you to bed and fill you up over and over again, emptying his balls into your sloppy cunt until it’s spilling out with every thrust, and then he’d push it back in again, delivering a sloppy kiss to your mouth and a promise to knock you up, to get you so swollen with his seed. He’d have you on the bed every night, legs over his shoulders as he pound into your cunt, fucking a baby into you until finally those two lines would appear, and you’d be tied to him forever. You’d never be able to leave. He’d watch your tits grow heavy, your belly swelling with the precious child you’d gift him. You’d be such a wonderful mother, you are such a wonderful mother to his son already. And you know that he’s a good father, a good husband, a good lover.
It’s the thought of you, beneath him, begging for a child, that tips him over the edge. He cums with a groan, ropes of cum caught in one of the tissues he keeps besides his bed. It’s the best he’s felt in a while, and his breaths are deep. His eyes catch onto the ray of light on the floor, a little wider now than he remembers it being before.
He follows it up, eyes widening as they meet your own.
Your eyes are wide too, chest rising in short breaths as you stare straight at him. How long have you been there for? His eyes fall down your body, transfixing on the hand down the front of your little shorts, and the evident wet patch. He lets out an appreciative groan, involuntarily.
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, and then the door creaks open a little bit more.
The Ghosties and the Ghoulies (Arataki Itto x GN!Reader Fluff)
The Ghosties and the Ghoulies (Arataki Itto x GN!Reader Fluff)
Arataki Itto x GN!Reader
TAGS: fluff, halloween-themed(ish), mentions of Itto and reader having children but it’s not specfied how
///
Itto convinces you to go to a Haunted House with him.
///
“You go first.”
The push you deliver to your boyfriend’s back is light, hardly worthy of being called a ‘push’ if not a gentle press into his sturdy back. He’s well over six feet and built, for lack of better words, like a brick wall, but he stumbles forward dramatically nonetheless. The pout on his face makes you roll your eyes in amusement as he lets out a loud ‘Ouch!’, rubbing the spot on his back with fake hurt.
“You’re so dumb.” You laugh, momentarily forgetting your nerves.
Who’s idea was it to visit a Haunted House again? Not yours, that’s for sure.
“You’ll be fiiine , babe,” he promises, taking a hold of your hand in his firm grip and looking down at you with the cocky raise of an eyebrow, “you do have me after all. A strong, handsome, Oni. Just stay by my side and everything will be a-okay.”
“Hmm,” you hum, standing on your tiptoes to place a kiss on the side of his cheek, “my big, brave man.” You giggle at the little blush that spreads across his cheeks as he averts his gaze and lets out an embarrassed cough .
“Just…don’t let go of my hand, got it?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, big boy.”
—-
You’ve been in the Haunted House for about ten minutes so far. It’s not been much- you can stomach a surprise gust of wind and you can just about deal with the cracks of thunder going off sporadically above your head. A little tame for a ‘House of Spooks’, but truthfully you’ve been moving at a pretty slow pace, too busy taking photos of each other with the wallpaper the walls in the first room donned. You’d both been captured by the glow-in-the-dark bats it had been decorated with - a necessary distraction for your jittery nerves. The pictures came out cute, at least.
Itto’s in front of you, one hand outstretched behind him to guide you through the steadily darkening passages. You clench your fingers around his a little more at a notably loud crack of thunder and you deliver a small smack to his back at the deep chuckle he lets out.
“You’re not afraid, are you babe?” He teases, his voice dripping with smugness. “Who knew my little baby was such a scaredy cat?” He turns back to you with a fake pout, looking at you pitifully. “Maybe if you give me a kiss I’ll look after you,” a finger taps his cheek.
You groan, forgetting the loud booms from above. “Shut up, Itto.”
Your lips plant on his cheek for just a second.
He snickers a little, and the two of you continue forward. It soon becomes apparent that your little moment of bravery really was just a moment, because the rooms gradually become creepier and creepier as you continue on.
The doll room is the worst. High-pitched giggles echoing from all corners of the gloomy room and little porcelain bodies in frilly dresses littering the ground.
You let out a loud gasp as you turn your head and come face to face with one. Her eyes are right in front of your face, and you stumble back a little. Even in the dim light, you can see the pretty pink dress and long white hair grasped between Itto’s fingers.
“Look. She looks just like me,” your boyfriend laughs, holding the doll side by side, lifting her strands of white hair up beside his own. “Do you think our kids will look like her one day? I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
You try to ignore the warmth in your chest at his words, stuttering slightly as you scold him. “I-Itto put it down, I don’t think you’re allowed to pick them up. I don’t even know why you’d want to.” A little shudder goes down your back as the creepy chanting starts again.
He turns the doll to face him, giving it a sad look as he shakes his head, and then bringing it in for an embrace, rocking it back and forth in his arms. He tsks lightly. “Poor Mini Itto, at least one of your parents isn’t so mean .” He sticks his tongue out at you from over the head of the doll and you can’t hold back the twitch of your lips at his antics, sticking your own tongue out at him in response.
“Scare me like that again and you’ll be getting no kisses, never mind children .”
He shuts up pretty quickly after that.
You finally convince him to leave the doll where he found it and continue on, certain you’re about halfway through. The room is abandoned with a final dramatic “Bye-bye Mini Itto!” and the fake sobs of not-so-mini Itto echoing across the walls.
Pretty soon, you’re back to your previous arrangement; Itto leading the way and you trailing behind, reacting to any and all jump scares, despite the majority being blocked by your boyfriend’s frame.
He’s spent the entire time laughing at you, of course. Shoulders shaking as he silences himself for the nth time at the sight of the glare you send him, and even once stopping to console you at a particularly large fright with a kiss to your lips and a comforting “Almost out now.”
Then, after what feels like hours, you’re on the final stretch. You’ve not kept an exact count of the amount of rooms, but you’re pretty certain you’re close to the end. Itto's been talking almost non-stop for the last ten minutes, and though he says it’s to distract you, you have a sneaking suspicion it’s for his own benefit too.
“You’re so cute, baby.” He chides. “It’s okay to be scared, just watch out for the ghosties and the ghoulies and the-”
A shrill scream fills the room as the lights flash, and another, much deeper, deafening scream echoes back. You can’t help but let out a shriek of your own, clenching your fists tight into Itto’s jacket and shutting your eyes, only opening them when both noises have dissipated and the two of you are standing in a shocked silence.
Wow. Is all you can think. That was scary.
Whatever it was, it must have been terrifying enough to scare Itto, it must’ve been pretty horrifying to-
And then you see it.
There’s a coffin reading ‘GIVE ME YOUR BLOOD’ in front of the spot your boyfriend stands in, both doors open and showcasing the clearly worn figure of a cartoon vampire as it leans out of its resting place, fangs and teeth bared as blood drips from its plastic teeth.
It looks like a child made it, and honestly it has got to be the cheesiest vampire you have ever seen in your life.
There’s no time for you to hold back the loud laughter that bubbles up in your chest, bending over as you grip his coat again, except this time for the stability to stay standing as tears fall from your eyes. You can hardly breathe, taking multiple moments to catch your breath as you finally raise again, breaking out into yet another fit of laughter at the unimpressed look on your boyfriend’s face.
“Are you done?” He asks, the tone of his voice not doing the greatest job at hiding his embarrassment. He’s so cute.
“Sorry, sorry..” you say, taking deep breaths, body still trembling “.... you just…really sent me into a coffin fit .”
There’s a millisecond of silence, and then he lets out a groan, mouth twitching with amusement as he looks down at you with a poor attempt of seriousness. “Not cool, Y/N.”
“Yeah,” you agree, and he can see the twinkle in your eye as you speak, opting to just stand there and take it as you open your mouth.
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