#An Unnatural Vice

[hussyknee]

If you aren't reading KJ Charles's books I sincerely do not know what you're doing with your life.

[poisindonottouch]

Queer reads: K.J. Charles

As we leave fantasy, I bring you the last category of my recommendations: smutty smutty smut. 

Okay, these are romance novels, but in my reading of romance novels, I’ve discovered that I thoroughly enjoy the spicier end of the spectrum. The smuttier the better. 

So, for day 22, I bring you my favorite romance author KJ Charles. 

I’m putting this under a cut, because it’s going to be long. 

KJ Charles has written loads of books, but I’ve narrowed it down to my favorite 9. 

I’ll take these by series. 

First off, I give you the Will Darling Adventures. These books take place in 1920s London (and surrounding environs.) They are post WWI. Will Darling served in the war, came home to no one, and ended up inheriting a book shop. He’s gruff, manly, and really a giant cinnamon roll. Kim did not serve in the war (it’s a whole thing), and he’s anything but a manly cinnamon roll. He’s sharp and devious and manipulative. And of course, they fall in loooove. This trilogy follows the same pairing over three books, and it’s nice to see how KJC handles the deepening of their relationship from HFN to HEA. (That’s happily for now & happily ever after.) 

The next two books, Proper English and Think of England, are actually in the same world as the Will Darling books, and you’ll see a cameo or two in the later trilogy. Proper English, set in 1902, tells the story of Pat and Fen meeting at a house party that involves a murder mystery and some sexy times. After all, if a murderer is on the loose, you can’t sleep alone, right? Think of England, set in 1904, tells the story of Archie and Daniel, at a different house party. Archie is there to investigate some shady business, but he’s a straightforward kind of man, and he is woefully out of his depth. Luckily, Daniel is there. 

Any Old Diamonds and An Unnatural Vice are set in the same world, about 20 years apart. They aren’t the only books in their series, but they are my favorite of each. Any Old Diamonds follows Alec and Jerry as Alec hires Jerry to steal some jewels. There’s a great twist to this one, and I love Alec and Jerry. I want more of them. An Unnatural Vice is book two of the Sins of the City trilogy, but Justin Lazarus is the very best character ever, and Nathaniel is good for him. I recommend the all the books in both series, but these two are my favorite in the bunches. 

Band Sinister is a stand alone novel, telling the story of Phillip and Guy, who have some bad history between their families, but unforeseen circumstances bring them together, and chemistry does the rest. I would love to read a book series about every side character in this book, but alas. I’ll keep reading fanfic instead. 

Which brings us to The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen, the most recent book out by KJC. It’s the first of a duology, and I’m super excited for the next one to come out in September. It’s marked on my calendar in my kitchen. This is a dual pov book switching between Garath, who recently inherited his late fathers title, home, and secrets, and Joss, the boss of the local smuggler family. This is a lovers to enemies to lovers book, and I love it. Really, one of KJCs best. 

(Ack! I missed Spectered Isle, which is also fantastic. I really enjoy the relationship in this one, and I’d happily read a bunch of books set in this world, but alas, I think this series is over. Spectered Isle follows after The Casebooks of Simon Feximal (also good. Think smutty, magical Sherlock Holmes.) Like the Will Darling books, Spectered Isle takes place post the Great War, and everyone in the novel is scarred from it. It’s not a shared universe though, because this one has magic, and the Will Darling books are not fantasy, but similar time frame.)

[fdlvh]

Book review: 4/5

Spicy level: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Sins of the city series by K.J Charles

1) An unseen attraction 5/5

Description:

A slow-burning romance and a chilling mystery bind two singular men in the suspenseful first book of a new Victorian series from K. J. Charles. Lodging-house keeper Clem Talleyfer prefers a quiet life. He’s happy with his hobbies, his work—and especially with his lodger Rowley Green, who becomes a friend over their long fireside evenings together. If only neat, precise, irresistible Mr. Green were interested in more than friendship. . . . Rowley just wants to be left alone—at least until he meets Clem, with his odd, charming ways and his glorious eyes. Two quiet men, lodging in the same house, coming to an understanding . . . it could be perfect. Then the brutally murdered corpse of another lodger is dumped on their doorstep and their peaceful life is shattered. Now Clem and Rowley find themselves caught up in a mystery, threatened on all sides by violent men, with a deadly London fog closing in on them. If they’re to see their way through, the pair must learn to share their secrets—and their hearts.

Actual thoughts:

I was absolutely captured by the first book, the world-building is truly next level, as the gloomy setting, the descriptions, how precise and meticulous and intriguing is every piece of information given. I adored Rowley, his patience, his candor, his gentleness. I adored Clem, his problems, and the solutions he'd found to them, I loved the personalities living at the lodging house. The mystery and its resolution had me pacing for days wondering. The details: Clem's forgetfulness, Rowley's glasses, Cat that horrendous loving cat, the passion for such an unusual profession and the respect, and the respect the characters have for each other and their differences got to me and had me sobbing at the tender moments. I hated Clem's brother with a passion which makes him a wonderful character as well as the drunk priest. This was my very first book by K.J Charles and it left a mark, one hard to exceed.

My favorite part was how the story could be a compelling mystery, a soft romance with talks about boundaries, likes, and dislikes as well as a found family story. I love how Clem is portrayed and how defensive his friends are of him, how it talks about being different, and how it means so many different things, this book really broke me (in a good way, the best way) leaving me aching and crying about fictional men, leaving me to wonder how much difficulties people with disabilities, autism, and struggling with gender identity and orientation can face daily, can face in dating and showing love, how many have been overcome in centuries, how some kindness can change someone's life. This is still one of the best books I've ever read.

2) An unnatural vice 3/5

Description:

In the sordid streets of Victorian London, unwanted desire flares between two bitter enemies brought together by a deadly secret. Crusading journalist Nathaniel Roy is determined to expose spiritualists who exploit the grief of bereaved and vulnerable people. First on his list is the so-called Seer of London, Justin Lazarus. Nathaniel expects him to be a cheap, heartless fraud. He doesn’t expect to meet a man with a sinful smile and the eyes of a fallen angel—or that a shameless swindler will spark his desires for the first time in years. Justin feels no remorse for the lies he spins during his séances. His gullible clients simply bore him. Hostile, disbelieving, utterly irresistible Nathaniel is a fascinating challenge. And as their battle of wills and wits heats up, Justin finds he can’t stop thinking about the man who’s determined to ruin him. But Justin and Nathaniel are linked by more than their fast-growing obsession with one another. They are both caught up in an aristocratic family’s secrets, and Justin holds information that could be lethal. As killers, fanatics, and fog close in, Nathaniel is the only man Justin can trust—and, perhaps, the only man he could love.

Actual thoughts:

Fast-paced in confront to the first book and far too many repetitions of the same events with slight pov modifications, but maybe that's just me who read them one after the other. Less descriptions, fewer specifications, and not that many details yet it is a good haters-to-lovers story, one charged with sexual tension leaving the reader wondering if the next page would've contained a murder or a sex scene. I might've spent five good minutes laughing at certain scenes, such as Nathaniel collecting the first time he masturbated (he did so on a Saint Michael? I think, holy picture). I liked the switch of pace and themes, yet even as the story is interesting I was far too centralized on the mystery rather than the book's couple. Nathaniel felt too imperious without a proper justification for some matters but I loved his devotion, his fierceness. Justin is a tricky one, one that I cannot fully love or hate, he isn't a good man and I often found myself wondering if the relationship between Nathaniel and him could really function in the long run. Justin is a bad person, not even for his tricks or job but for his interpretation of feelings relevance and despite understating where he is coming from, the hurt, and the trauma I cannot fully sympathize or excuse his behavior which makes him incredibly human and well fucking written. I didn't like them as a couple, and while it made for a funny thought, them getting together, I really ended the book with a bitter taste in my mouth and the need to pick up the last book of the trilogy to discover the plot's end.

3) An unsuitable heir 3/5

Description:

A private detective finds passion, danger, and the love of a lifetime when he hunts down a lost earl in Victorian London. On the trail of an aristocrat’s secret son, enquiry agent Mark Braglewicz finds his quarry in a music hall, performing as a trapeze artist with his twin sister. Graceful, beautiful, elusive, and strong, Pen Starling is like nobody Mark’s ever met—and everything he’s ever wanted. But the long-haired acrobat has an earldom and a fortune to claim. Pen doesn’t want to live as any sort of man, least of all a nobleman. The thought of being wealthy, titled, and always in the public eye is horrifying. He likes his life now—his days on the trapeze, his nights with Mark. And he won’t be pushed into taking a title that would destroy his soul. But there’s a killer stalking London’s foggy streets, and more lives than just Pen’s are at risk. Mark decides he must force the reluctant heir from music hall to manor house, to save Pen’s neck. Betrayed by the one man he thought he could trust, Pen never wants to see his lover again. But when the killer comes after him, Pen must find a way to forgive—or he might not live long enough for Mark to make amends.

Actual thoughts:

Perhaps the book I liked less, even less detail and descriptions, and even less time spent between main characters to accommodate the main plot which made this relationship feel pressured and imposed. I really couldn't bring myself to care for Pen, I loved the idea of a nonbinary count fighting not to live his life as a man in eyes of society, I really liked his rapport with his sister as I like all sibling bonds written by Charles honestly. Nonetheless, I didn't enjoy Pen, he seems too reluctant and afraid to jump head-first into a relationship, and even if he wanted one it felt he would've been better off figuring out himself foremost. While in the story there is a waiting game, a beautiful understanding, and impressively modern speeches Pen and Marks's relationship still didn't feel right, not to the point of calling it love. I also didn't like Mark, while very open and aiming to please he often came off as rough and unpleasant. I really liked the resolution, liked the evolution of Clem throughout the three books, and how much some of their most strong views turned opposite or shattered completely. I loved the found family the Jack and Knaves offers and how strange outside of it the group of friends may seem. I enjoyed Phyllis and how female characters in Charles's books aren't any less fun and interesting than men or the main characters get depicted.

[reviewsthatburn]

AN UNNATURAL VICE by K.J. Charles is excellently crafted, as perfect of a middle book for a trilogy as I could possibly think of from a structural perspective. It's a gay romance of opposites attracting and Nathaniel finding new love after a long period of mourning. As the second book of a trilogy, it provides a specific answer to something left open in the previous book, specifically, the formerly unknown heir to Clem’s father’s title. It has a new storyline involving Justin as a spiritualist, and his involvement with Nathaniel (which has a bit of a rocky start). A recent re-read of the first book prompted me to notice the ways that Justin’s existence is hinted at there, with the timelines of the two books having some overlap in the early stages. There have been several murders so far in the series, and no clear answer on who is orchestrating them. This is specifically mentioned towards the end of this book, with the implication that it’ll be resolved in the next one. 

Full review at link

[shakedog]

trad goth elitists who hate mcr I encourage you to find beauty in what you might consider cringe. HOWEVER those of you who consider mcr a goth band I'm sorry but you have a brain eating worm in your skull and I encourage u to see a doctor ♡ peace n love on planet earth

[foggynelsonsluscioushair]

I adore the moment in a book when Character A changes what name they use for Character B. When they go from using a last name to a first, a pseudonym to a real name, a formal name to an informal one. I love how much it speaks to the level of intimacy one character feels towards another, how you can take note of the moment things change between them, how it almost divides the book into two parts. It's like catnip to me.

[yplk]

gender and femininity especially is a tool specifically designed to suppress women and ensure that they're too vulnerable to fight back against the oppression they face, it is the exact fucking opposite of liberating. there's a reason why "masculine" clothes are comfortable and practical while feminine clothes and practices are time consuming and soul sucking. it's like someone said, if you put girls in short skirts and uncomfortable shoes and tell them to make sure they don't flash anyone they'll train themselves into being walking decorations by preschool. makeup wastes your time and life and health, you can't even rub your eyes when they're itchy or scratch your face, women put up with it because they've been conditioned to hate their real face; they might talk all they want about how it's "empowering" but in reality it's a great inconvenience that gives them only a moment of confidence. girls who wear comfortable clothing and don't put on makeup are called tomboys and are constantly pointedly told that it's "okay" to be feminine, strong female characters are praised for being feminine when normal masculine women in popular media can be counted on one hand bc everyone thinks the "not like other girls" girl is representation. if it was liberating and natural it wouldn't need to be enforced like this. your post operates under the assumption that woman=feminine and man=masculine which is the type of post i'd expect to see in the 70's with how sexist and regressive it is. do whatever your mind desires as a transman, use binders and t and packers liberally, but don't pretend you don't understand that the reason why masculinity is comfortable is because the regressive practice of femininity is designed to make women suffer

I have to get this off my chest: Femininity is not liberating for everyone. Especially not for people who were forced into femininity. Masculinity is not inherently bad. For a lot of people masculinity is far more comforting and liberating than femininity will ever be. Do the work to separate your trauma with cis men and toxic masculinity, and stop hurting transmasc people with your bs bio/gender essentialist rhetoric. Trans men and trans masc people are not your enemies, masculinity is not your enemy, and femininity is not always your friend. As long as it’s not hurting people let trans men be happy to be masculine. To deny trans men their masculinity is transphobic. You aren’t less transphobic towards trans men just because you say how pretty transfems are every fifteen seconds for brownie points, bc this demonization of masculinity hurts them too. Trans joy includes affirming masculinity.

[mattereat]

i miss how freudian and bizarre early wincest was. i miss sam’s lingering eyes, dean’s unnatural assay to get his little brother laid. i miss the way dean’s biggest vice was the reality of sam knowing other people. sam pleads with dean to kill him? dean would rather die!!! dean’s about to have a threesome? not until he gets a thumbs up from his sammy! sam’s making out with a woman? dean’s watching with a smile on his face. zero boundaries. just two brothers crammed into one car, then one motel room, who have an unceasing presence in the other’s life. just sam, who was ready to harvest organs if it meant keeping dean alive. they were never going to be normal.

[creamflix]

true form sukuna x female reader; minors don’t interact. implied mind break, dumbification, humiliation, choking, overstimulation, size kink — masterlist here ☆

the oppressive weight of sukuna’s cursed energy suffuses the room, pressing against your skin like a vice.

his true form stands before you, four arms crossed in disdain, his body a twisted masterpiece of raw, inhuman strength. tattoos snake over his muscled torso, accentuating every ripple of power, and those four cruel, crimson eyes bore into you, as if peering straight into the fragile remains of your mind.

“look at you,” his voice rolls out, low and mocking, a growl that vibrates through your chest. one of his hands reaches out, sharp claws grazing your cheek, the touch deceptively gentle, though the danger behind it is palpable. you shudder, your legs already feeling weak. "you don’t even have to think, do you? all that fear, that hesitation — gone."

the sharp, predatory grin spreads across his face. with terrifying ease, he grabs the back of your neck, yanking you closer. his skin is unnaturally warm, the sheer size of him swallowing your frame in comparison. your breath catches, thoughts slipping through your fingers like water.

“s-sukuna…” the word stumbles out of your mouth, barely a whisper, your voice dazed, eyes unfocused.

his chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. "can’t even string a sentence together, can you? pathetic." his grip tightens, tilting your head back as his towering form looms over you. "you don’t need to speak." his voice is rich with amusement, but there’s an edge to it, a clear message that you have no choice in this, no space to resist.

your body trembles under his touch, the sensation of his overwhelming strength drowning any last fragments of coherent thought. sukuna’s free hand trails down your side, slow and deliberate, his claws leaving faint, tingling scratches that make your skin burn with hypersensitivity. the size of his hands alone swallows you, reminding you of just how little control you have.

“what’s that empty look in your eyes? already too far gone, hm?” his thumb presses against your bottom lip, pulling it down with a roughness that sends a jolt through you. “no point in trying to think. i’ll handle that.”

you can barely keep up with his words, your mind unraveling under the sheer weight of his presence. everything is him — his voice, his heat, the crushing pressure of his gaze. the world outside of sukuna simply ceases to exist.

“nngh… can’t… i can’t…” your words are a mess, slurred and mindless, as if your brain refuses to form anything beyond raw, animal need.

he laughs — a deep sound that sends shivers down your spine. "perfect. just a mindless little thing now." his hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to choke, but enough to keep you in place. his eyes gleam, taking in your dazed expression with clear satisfaction. "this is what you were meant for, wasn’t it? to be completely unmade by me.”

your head nods without thinking, your body reacting instinctively, eager to please, eager to submit. you don’t have the capacity to form a response, but your compliance speaks volumes.

"good. now, be quiet and let me enjoy my work."

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[halosdiary]

witch's brew | witch! t. fushiguro x magical girl!reader | 呪術廻戦

a/n: if I'm starting kinktober, I'm starting it right. Have some toji you animals. I personally blame @blkkizzat and @hoshigray for this.

wc: 2.5k

contains: masturbation, sexual fantasies, entrapment, kidnapping, unrequited love, possessive behavior, just horror themed based.

synopsis: it seems that you have an admirer in the form of a witch.

The night was unnaturally quiet, the air thick with an impending sense of doom. You’d been walking home from an uneventful evening, but something was wrong. The moon hung too low, too bright, casting strange shadows that seemed to follow your every step. Your chest tightened, anxiety gnawing at you like a parasite. Every rustle in the trees, every crunch of a leaf made your skin prickle with unease. You swore someone was watching.

That’s when he appeared.

Toji Fushiguro.

He was panting, stroking himself, his arm shielding away his eyes. the sight of you always in his mind. You were beautiful to him, you were everything he envisioned. Your smile, your innocent spirit, the way you just looked so perfect. His moans echoing his chambers as he slowly started to thrust more as he felt himself about to cum soon.

"Fuck...FUCK." He hissed out. His blacken hand feeling each inch of ecstasy.

As he arches his back, he yells out as he sprays out nice essence at the throat of you. An orb was glowing as he grabs it and looks into it. He saw you, you were finishing up something, and just wanted to go home. You were done slaying curses for one night and were heading home.

Tall, dark, and painfully handsome, his presence was as overwhelming as it was eerie. His eyes gleamed with a wicked intensity, and his lips curved into a smile that sent chills down your spine. You’d seen him before—once, in passing, and again in your dreams, where the world twisted into something nightmarish.

"Leaving so soon?" his voice was smooth, almost mocking.

Your heart raced. Every instinct told you to run, but your feet remained frozen in place. You tried to speak, but words caught in your throat.

Toji stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've been watching you," he said, his tone casual, as if talking to an old friend. "You, with all your power... It’s fascinating, really."

You felt a surge of magic flicker within you, instinctively raising your guard. But before you could react, he raised a hand, muttering something under his breath. Darkness exploded around you, and the world spun into oblivion.

When you awoke, everything was wrong.

You were no longer in your world.

The room was unfamiliar—gothic, ornate, and suffocating. The air was thick with magic, dark and twisted, and you felt it clawing at your skin, seeping into your very soul. You tried to move, but invisible chains bound you in place.

Toji stood before you, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "There’s no escape."

You struggled against the invisible hold, summoning every ounce of magic you had left, but nothing worked. It was as if the very air around you drained your power.

Toji chuckled, watching your futile attempts.

"You don’t understand, do you? You’ve walked right into my trap. This place... it bends to my will. And you?" He knelt in front of you, lifting your chin with a single finger. "You’ll never leave."

Panic rose in your chest, suffocating you. His presence was overwhelming, oppressive. You felt his magic wrap around your mind like a vice, tightening slowly, mercilessly.

"Let me go!" you gasped, your voice trembling.

He tilted his head, amused by your defiance. "Why would I ever do that? I’ve been searching for someone like you for so long. A magical girl with so much potential... You’re perfect." His voice dripped with obsession, his eyes darkening with desire—though not the kind you expected. His obsession was something darker, more twisted, a need to control, to torment.

Days blurred together in that prison. Toji was always there, watching, waiting. He whispered dark curses in your ear, slowly unraveling your mind. You would wake to his voice in the dead of night, a phantom in the darkness, promising that you belonged to him. Every time you tried to fight, to escape, he would tighten his grip, his magic suffocating your own.

"You’ll never be free," he would say, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "No one will ever find you here. No one can."

You could feel yourself unraveling, piece by piece. He would keep you locked away, forever a prisoner in his cursed world. And the worst part? You began to doubt yourself. The walls seemed to close in, your reality slipping away. His voice became the only constant, his presence the only thing you could rely on.

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe this was all a dream. Or worse, maybe it wasn’t.

Toji's obsession only grew with time, his torment becoming more intimate, more invasive. He would appear in your thoughts, twisting your memories, making you question what was real and what was his doing. Every time you thought you had a moment of clarity, he would be there, dragging you back into his grasp.

"You can't escape me," he whispered, his voice echoing in the dark. "No matter how hard you try."

You screamed, but your voice was swallowed by the void.

Toji smiled.

You were his.

Forever.

The days stretched into weeks—or was it longer? Time itself had become a blur, an untraceable loop in this twisted dimension Toji had crafted around you. The lines between reality and nightmare thinned until they bled into one another. You couldn’t remember what it felt like to be free.

Every day, Toji was there, his dark presence a constant reminder that you were nothing more than his puppet. He never allowed you to be alone for long. You would wake to find him watching from the shadows, his piercing eyes drinking in every ounce of your fear, feeding off your helplessness. It was as if he relished your suffering, delighted in watching you come apart at the seams.

Sometimes, he was gentle, almost tender. He would sit beside you, brushing the hair from your face, his touch cold but oddly soothing. "Why do you resist, little one?" he would murmur, his voice low and seductive. "Don’t you see? I could give you everything. All the power you could ever want, all the knowledge of the dark arts... If only you would stop fighting me."

But you knew better. His words were poison, a slow-acting venom that crept into your veins with every passing day. He wasn’t offering you freedom. No, he was trying to mold you, break you, until there was nothing left of who you once were. He wanted to consume you, body and soul, until you were nothing more than a hollow shell, a reflection of his own twisted desires.

And despite your attempts to hold on to your sanity, you could feel the cracks deepening. You tried to remind yourself of the life you had before Toji trapped you in this dark purgatory, but the memories were fading. Your friends, your family, even your own reflection in the mirror had become distant, abstract things.

Sometimes, you questioned if they ever existed at all.

And Toji—he noticed. He always noticed.

One evening, when the suffocating darkness of his world felt heavier than ever, Toji appeared, sitting at the foot of your bed with that familiar, cruel smirk. "I see you’ve been thinking about escaping again," he purred. His voice was silk laced with malice. "You still believe there’s a way out of this, don’t you?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat felt raw from all the silent screaming you had done, your thoughts tangled and foggy.

He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your skin.

"Do you know what I love most about this curse I’ve placed on you?" His smile widened, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "It’s not just your body that belongs to me. It’s your mind." He tapped a finger to your temple, his touch electrifying in the worst way possible.

"I know what you’re thinking before you even think it. Every fear, every hope, every desperate little plan to escape—none of it is a secret to me."

Your chest tightened with panic as his words sank in. It was true. Every time you had tried to break free, something had gone wrong—like he knew your thoughts before you could act on them. You had been playing right into his hands, and now, the despair was unbearable.

He tilted your chin upward, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You’re starting to understand now, aren’t you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, dark and intoxicating. "There is no escape from me. Not here. Not ever. I will have you, in every sense of the word."

Something inside you shattered at that moment. A sob ripped from your throat, and the tears you had been holding back for so long finally spilled down your cheeks. Toji only smiled, his expression one of triumph.

"Good," he said softly, brushing a tear away with his thumb. "Let it all out. The sooner you accept your place here, the sooner we can stop this silly game of resistance."

You wanted to fight, to scream at him, but your strength was slipping away, stolen by the relentless grip of his curse. Each passing day, each whispered word from his lips, eroded the pieces of you that still held on to hope.

There were moments, fleeting and cruel, when you thought you felt something stir within Toji—something softer, a glimpse of the man beneath the monster. But those moments were always brief, vanishing like mist under the sun, leaving only his malevolent intent behind. You were his obsession, his dark prize, and he had no intention of ever letting you go.

And as time stretched on, the worst part wasn’t the torment. It wasn’t the loneliness, or the fear, or even the way he toyed with your mind, unraveling you bit by bit.

The worst part was that you were beginning to believe him.

His whispers echoed in your mind, filling the void with sweet promises of surrender. Maybe this was your fate. Maybe he was right. Maybe you would never escape. And as the last fragments of your resistance began to crumble, you felt a sickening sense of relief—because at least in surrender, there would be an end to the struggle.

Toji’s voice cut through the darkness one last time, soft and full of twisted affection. "You’re mine," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "And soon, you’ll learn to love it."

And in the silence that followed, you couldn’t help but wonder if you already were.

The days slipped into a state of numbness. You had stopped counting the time, stopped fighting against the inevitable. The once-loud voice in your head screaming for escape had grown quieter, weaker. Toji’s presence had seeped so deeply into your mind that you could no longer distinguish his thoughts from your own.

And in those quiet moments, when he wasn’t watching you, you would feel it—the curse tightening around your soul like a noose. There was no escaping it. You had tried everything, but now… now, a part of you wondered if it was worth it to keep trying.

One evening, Toji appeared in your room, his silhouette framed by the dim light of a flickering candle. His expression was different, colder. His obsession hadn’t wavered, but there was a new edge to it, something more dangerous, more final.

"You’ve been quiet," he said, his voice smooth as ever. "No more attempts to break free? No more fighting?" He tilted his head, studying you with that unnerving gaze. "Have you finally accepted it?"

You stared at him, your body too tired to move, too drained to react. Deep down, something inside you still screamed, still begged for release, but it was so far away now, buried under layers of magic and madness.

Toji’s smile widened, pleased with your silence. "Good," he whispered, stepping closer, his shadow engulfing you. "You’re almost ready."

Almost ready for what? A flicker of fear surged within you, but it was fleeting, drowned out by the heavy, oppressive weight of his curse. You wanted to ask, but your throat felt constricted, as if speaking would unravel you entirely.

Without warning, he reached out, his fingers grazing your face. But this time, his touch wasn’t cold. It burned, searing your skin, branding you with his curse in a way you hadn’t felt before. You flinched, but the magic binding you held you still.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with something primal, something more than mere possession. "You don’t understand yet, do you?" he whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement. "This isn’t just about keeping you here. This curse... it’s about making you mine, in every sense. Body, mind, soul."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath sending a sickening shiver down your spine. "I’ve been patient. I’ve let you fight, struggle, even hope for a way out. But that’s over now."

A cold dread washed over you as his words sunk in. You tried to move, to scream, to do anything to stop what you knew was coming, but it was too late.

Toji’s grip tightened, and you felt the full weight of his magic flood your senses. Your mind screamed in agony as the curse dug deeper, sinking into your very being. Memories you had clung to—the faces of loved ones, the warmth of freedom—shattered like fragile glass. Your thoughts twisted and warped until they were no longer your own. The last remnants of your identity, the last pieces of you that had resisted him, were being torn away.

You gasped, choking on the darkness that swallowed you whole. Toji’s voice echoed in your mind, louder than ever, his whispers filling every corner of your consciousness.

"You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And now… you’ll never escape me."

The truth hit you like a dagger to the heart.

This was it. There was no escape, not from him, not from this place. Even if you could leave the room, the world outside would never be yours again. The curse had taken root, deeper than you had ever imagined. You weren’t just trapped in his world.

You were becoming part of it.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up, but even they felt wrong, foreign, as if your emotions were no longer truly yours to control. You could feel the walls of this twisted prison closing in on your soul, tightening, suffocating. Your heartbeat slowed, your breath shallow, as if your body itself was slipping away into the void.

And Toji stood over you, watching it all unfold, his eyes filled with a dark, victorious satisfaction. He had won.

The final, horrifying realization crashed into you.

You weren’t just his prisoner anymore. You were becoming him.

Piece by piece, your thoughts, your memories, your very soul were being consumed by the curse, by him. You could feel Toji’s presence growing stronger inside you, his dark magic replacing everything that had once been you. Your mind fractured under the weight of his influence, and a sickening dread filled your chest as you realized that, soon, there would be nothing left of you at all.

In the last moment of clarity before the darkness swallowed you whole, you saw it—the faintest flicker of yourself, disappearing into the void. And then, it was gone.

Toji smiled, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead, sealing your fate.

"Welcome home," he whispered.

And in that moment, you knew the horrifying truth.

You were no longer the victim.

You were the curse.

Forever trapped in Toji’s world. Forever him.

TAGLIST: @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @buttercupblu143 @lowkeyremi @yung-notorious @arlerts-angel @honeeslust @nkogneatho @hoshigray

[thatshadowgastwhore]

Okay, addict tim Drake. Because this is a rich kid with no supervision, a stimulant dependency, and a disdain for normal bodily limits. I don’t personally think he’s into vaping/nicotine bc he needs his lungs to be working to do Robining, BUT the perfect vice for him is coke. Like, just a step further than his energy drink dependency. And he’s always trying to get clean and then he relapses again and over and over and yet NO ONE notices his struggles or thinks twice about the insane shit he pulls when he’s high, how long he stays awake being unnatural, etc, until Jason finds out, bc that is the sweet sweet angst I’ve been craving

[cherryredstars]

1k Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Bathroom Sex, Jealousy, Penetrative Sex

Summary: A little warm up before the game starts. 

Word Count: 695 (Not Edited)

You were always such a tease. 

He almost tripped over the ball as he watched you, a scowl distorting his face. Today, the boys and girls soccer team had a game. It wasn’t unnatural for the two teams to practice together, going through drills and pair training. But usually, you and Miguel would pair up together, going toe to toe. A way to help build up the competitive nature within the both of you before a game.

But here you are, giggling and smiling with one of his teammates. You have a wide smile on your face, eyes on the ball as the two of you fight over it. You keep bumping into Peter’s side as you try to steal from one another, a loud yelp escaping you when you almost trip over the ball. Eventually, you steal the ball, his teammate falling to the ground as you kick it into the empty net. You whoop out in victory, smiling and sticking your tongue out childishly at your opponent before helping him up. It makes Miguel’s blood boil as he watches. 

But it isn’t anything to worry about, not really. Not when he has you trapped between him and the wall, your legs wrapped around his hips to keep you up as he slides into you. You mewl, all that fight and competition leaving your body as you suck him in. You lean forward, whimpering into his neck as he bottoms out with a groan. The sound vibrates in the empty bathroom, and you press your face more into his neck to muffle the sounds. Miguel coos down at you mockingly, watching how your body instantly accommodates him and sags. 

“Where did all that energy go, hm?” He whispers into your ear. You whine again, quickly moaning out when he pulls out and thrusts sharply into you. “You had so much energy when you were fucking around with Peter.”

He gives you more rough thrusts when you don’t answer, and you throw your head back against the wall. Your mouth is wide open, moaning and whining as you close your eyes. It makes Miguel hum in satisfaction. He doesn’t stop his punishing thrusts, only going faster. Your hand drops to his chest, pushing him away weakly. 

“M-Miguel! Not so rough! I still have to p-play!” You struggle to say, interrupting yourself with gasps. 

Miguel only rolls his eyes, but he still listens and softens his thrusts slightly. But he doesn’t slow down his pace. If the two of you want to get off in time to clean up and get to the field before the game starts, he needs to get the two of you to come fast. His hand trails down to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles that have your back arching. You clutch onto his arm desperately, body tensing as you feel your release building to its peak. Your legs around his hips have him in a vice grip as you moan out his name, walls clenching as you finish. 

Miguel is quick to follow, the feeling of your tight walls fluttering doing him in. He buries his face into your neck as he groans, pumping his release into you with slow thrusts until he stills. The two of you stay still, catching your breath for a few seconds. Miguel slides out slowly, setting you down to the floor. He grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser, handing you some as the two of you wipe off. When the two of you finish, you readjust your clothing and walk over to the mirror. 

From behind you Miguel smirks, “I think you can walk just fine. Don’t know what you were fussing about.”

You scowl at him from the mirror, undoing your fucked-up ponytail and fixing it. “Shut up, you jealous fuck.”

Miguel scowls at you, ruffling his hair and deeming himself presentable. Ugh, men. He grumbles something under his breath about you making shit up, flicking the back of your head. He walks towards the bathroom door, sticking a finger back at you. “Twist an ankle!”

“Take a ball to the nuts!” You shout back.

God, you hate him.

[infamous-light]

Only Mine

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Only Mine

Summary: Driven by desperation, you rush to escape, fully aware that if Wanda catches you, there will be no way out.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Possessive/obsessive behavior, yandere, non-con kissing, magical restraints

The forest was silent – too silent, as if even the wildlife had sensed her presence and fled.

You stumbled through the tangled undergrowth, your breath coming in ragged gasps, every snapped twig underfoot echoing like a gunshot in the oppressive stillness. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale glow shrouded by swirling crimson clouds that twisted unnaturally, as though the night itself bent to her will.

Your heart thundered in your chest, the sound nearly drowning out everything else as you cast a frantic glance over your shoulder. You saw nothing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there. The Scarlet Witch had a way of blending into the shadows when it suited her. It wasn’t just her powers that made her terrifying – it was the unwavering intensity in her gaze, the fiery obsession that burned in her eyes every time they met yours.

“Run all you like, darling,” Wanda’s voice drifted through the air, soft and lilting. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. “You can’t escape me. You belong to me.”

A branch snagged your sleeve, and you ripped free, panting as you pushed deeper into the trees. Just when you dared to believe you had gained some distance, a faint glimmer of crimson light would catch your eye – a cruel reminder that she was toying with you, giving you the illusion of hope.

You pushed your legs to move faster, each step sending a sharp pain lancing through your calves. Your muscles burned with protest, but you refused to give in. You couldn’t stop – not now. You had to keep going. You had to –

A sudden force seized your ankles, wrenching you off balance and slamming you face-first into the ground. The impact drove the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping as a broken cry escaped your lips. Dirt and leaves clung to your palms as you scrambled to push yourself upright, but her magic's hold only grew stronger, its sinister glow pulsing brighter with each passing second. Panic surged through you as you thrashed wildly, yet the crimson tendrils slithered higher, coiling around your legs like a serpent trapping its prey.

It pulled you back, tearing you away from your desperate dash for freedom.

“No!” You screamed, clawing at the ground, your fingernails digging into roots and soil in a futile attempt to hold on, but everything slipped from your grasp.

The tendrils gave a final, brutal tug, dragging you mercilessly toward her.

At last, Wanda emerged from the shadows, her crimson eyes blazing like twin embers in the darkness. Her stare seemed to cut right through you, pinning you in place. The weight of it sent a sinking chill through your stomach.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” Wanda purred, her voice smooth as it wrapped around you like a vice. “We both know how this ends.”

The tendrils lifted you off the ground, and you struggled against them, twisting and turning, but her magic held fast, keeping your wrists and ankles bound tightly. Wanda tilted her head slightly, watching you with a predatory smile. She moved towards you slowly, each step calculated, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I only wanted to protect you,” Wanda continued, stopping just in front of you. She raised her right hand, letting her fingers graze your cheek in a mockery of tenderness while her magic kept you suspended, helpless in the air. “But you had to defy me. You had to run,” her voice hardened, the warmth in her tone replaced by something colder, more dangerous. “And now, I’ll have to remind you of who you belong to.”

Her magical tendrils shifted, curling their way around your chest before constricting with suffocating force. You gasped, the pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. Wanda’s face hovered just inches from yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“Tell me you’re mine,” she murmured, her tone softening again, though her grip on you did not. “Say it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest as Wanda loomed too close, her presence almost overbearing. Desperately, you averted your gaze, trying to create some distance, but she was everywhere. Her magic grew fiercer, pressing down on your mind like a thousand heavy stones.

“Say it.” Wanda repeated, her voice low and threatening.

Her magic tightened around you and a strained cry slipped from your lips.

“I…” Your voice faltered; the words stuck in your throat.

Her expression darkened, and she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “Say it, or I’ll make you.”

Tears stung your eyes as you whispered, barely audible, “I’m yours.”

Wanda’s smile stretched slowly, a quiet satisfaction in her eyes, but it lacked warmth. It was pure possession. Pure victory. She reached out, her fingers curling around your jaw with a grip that was firm, almost cruel, and pulled you in. Wanda’s lips crashed against yours with such force that it left no room for resistance. The kiss was demanding, urgent, her tongue sweeping into your mouth as if to mark you, to claim you completely.

Every instinct in you screamed to pull away but you couldn’t. The grip on your jaw tightened, anchoring you in place as Wanda deepened the kiss, leaving you helpless to do anything but surrender to her.

Thankfully, Wanda pulled back a moment later. Her lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary before her magic finally loosened just enough to release you. You collapsed to your knees before her, trembling and broken.

Wanda's lips curled into a sly, mocking smile as her eyes studied you with dark amusement.

“What’s the matter?” She teased, her fingers sliding beneath your chin, tilting your face upward to meet hers. “Can’t handle a simple kiss?”

A bitter surge of frustration rose within you, but you couldn't muster the words to protest.

With a soft, almost indifferent sigh, Wanda stepped back.

“Let’s go home.” She said, her voice casual, as if nothing had just happened.

And then, with a sudden burst of red light, the world around you dissolved into darkness.

[bones4thecats]

What If Their S/O Was The Vice Of Ignihyde?

Type of Writing: #2 - Poll Result Characters: Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, and Jamil Viper Name: What If Their S/O Was The Vice Of Ignihyde? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: I'm dying while writing this🥲

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧��⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍄 He was interested in you from the start of your first year together

🍄 You were just so shy and reserved, it sprouted a new form of entertainment for him, and he'd be lying if he said your reactions to his teasing weren't enjoyable!

🍄 The first time he met you was because of when he needed to grab something for Azul and he walked inside the board-game club's room and found you messing around with Idia and laughing at Azul's concentration face

🍄 His heart fluttered unnaturally and he put on a plastered smile, while internally he was wondering what that feeling was, and he found out fast

🍄 When Jade asked you out, he chuckled as you tried hiding your face within your over-sized jacket

🍄 As you guys aged upon and into your second-year, he would joke around about how you really were made for one another, with you and him being far more extroverted than your housewardens, and how you both were the vices of your opposing dorms

🍄 Jade loves to walk into Ignihyde, prompting your fellow members to hide himself away from the intimidating eel-mer as you just hide yourself away as he carries you away

🍄 He calls you if there is an incident and they need some information on a certain person, and he uses his stance as your boyfriend to his advantage, and he also uses a few secrets that you guys have shared together against you

🍄 He's a pro-blackmailer like you are, and it makes Azul and Idia nervous, just how much do you guys have on them exactly?

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🎭 Floyd, much like Jade, was interested in you from the very beginning of your time at Night Raven College

🎭 He met you because of a deal Azul wanted to propose to you, that being you would lend him some of your assistance with Mostro Lounge's mechanics while he gives you a form discount

🎭 This tweel was the one Azul sent to grab you, while he initially wanted Jade to, the fancy male stated how he needed to grab a few things of mushroom from the science room, claiming it might become a air-infesting poison if not taken out for an hour or so

🎭 So, unfortunately, he ordered Floyd to grab you, in which your future boyfriend giggled and began his peppy trip to Ignihyde, where you lead as the vice-housewarden

🎭 Many did not expect to see you guys hanging around one another afterwards, because of how introverted you were compared to his shameless and outgoing-self

🎭 But, when everyone in the college found out you both were an item, they freaked the hell out, especially Idia

🎭 Your housewarden was not fond of the tweels at all, they freaked him out more than crowded areas, and we all know how much those make him shiver...

🎭 Anyways, Floyd loves to kick down the mirror-gateway to your dorm when he's trying to hide from Azul and his work, and, because he knows his boss is going to go looking in his room, he goes to yours

🎭 And your room is being constantly monitored from cameras, in which you can make a small security system make the men chasing Floyd give up as soon as it comes out

🎭 Loves how cute you are when you blush, it's like a thing for Floyd, he just likes seeing you squeak and hide away as he tries pinching and pocking your tomato-colored cheeks while teases fly out of his mouth

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

☀️ Oh my, how much does this guy love you? It's beyond any kind of scale's listing, no matter the size of strength!

☀️ Kalim first met you because one of your fellow Ignihyde students were requested to help with setting up a mechanical device in Scarabia for a party Kalim was throwing

☀️ And, when that member got sick and couldn't leave his dorm, he sent Jamil a text, recommending you to replace him as he heals from his illness

☀️ Seeing you walk through the hot dorm with a heavy jacket on, despite the heat, he got interested and began to hop around you and ask you questions

" So, what's your name? Where are you from? What's it like helping Idia with managing that really cool dorm? Is it super cold in Ignihyde, and is that why you always wear that jacket? What do you want to do after graduation? How did you get to be so pretty-looking? "

☀️ Kalim did make you very nervous at first, but, after a few pep-talks with his good friend, Jamil, he got to understand exactly why you were so hidden with him

☀️ When you guys got together, it was basically the relationship troupe of opposite-attract, or in other words, the sun and the moon dynamic

☀️ Everybody in Scarabia adores watching you hide in your hoodie as Kalim compliments you, and Jamil likes how you're able to teach Kalim some things that even he deems complicated, like the makeup of a computer

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐍 A reserved man with a reserved S/O, what a great mix

🐍 When you first were announced to be the vice-housewarden of Ignihyde, Jamil literally just though you were going to be as camera-shy as your housewarden was

🐍 When in reality, you were far more reserved and had a larger habit of isolating yourself from larger groups than anything else

🐍 He had to appreciate you after you joined forces with your newest friend, Yuu, and the Octavinelle Trio to help break him out of his overblot at the start of the year

🐍 Your knowledge is something that makes your boyfriend proud of you, he's not any easy person to lose in a conversation, yet, you somehow manage to do it when you bring technology into the mix

🐍 Jamil rarely ever smiles with genuine affection, but, when you start rambling about how amazing something that you made or found was, he found himself suppressing laughs as you glared at the piece of machinery you were working on

🐍 Due to his role as Kalim's overseer, Jamil rarely ever gets a break, but, when you noticed how is eyebags were just as bad as your housewarden's, Idia's, were, you jumped into action

🐍 You had made a small model of robots from a story that Kalim loved as a child, and still loves, into small figurines that he could literally wind up and watch the story go by

🐍 When he walked in and watched as Kalim sat silently and enjoyed the show, you just hugged him and said Kalim would be ready for bed in a few minutes, and you just nudged for him to clean the kitchen with your help before going to rest

🐍 Whenever your housewardens have something to do in a meeting, you both help them carry out their roles, so, you guys may get busy from time-to-time with that, but, you guys always make time for one another

[rapturously]

reflections.

➾ pairing ; david x fem!reader.

in which david decides to have his way — in front of a mirror. of course, the main attraction is you.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.8K.

WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), mirror sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mild bloodplay (he’s a vampire), biting, hair-pulling, groping, teasing, dirty talk, pet names (use of kitten and sweetheart), rough sex, bruising/marking, choking, david is an asshole (but he’s hot), naked female, clothed male, fingering (f!receiving), finger-sucking, breastplay, begging, multiple positions, mind reading, making out, possessive & obsessive behavior from david

AUTHOR’S NOTE: so this was a request but I deleted it by accident (mega sorry !!) whoever sent this in, thank you for your service because this was ridiculously hot and so fun to write! thank you all for your love and support, i promise that I will try to post more often! still working on requests! ❤️

A soft, simpering moan reverberated throughout your cavernous alcove, hands balled up into tight, clenched fists as you tugged at your sheets. Even as you slept, someone toyed with your mind — David had quite the habit for making you see whatever he wanted in your dreams. They were never terrifying or intended to frighten you, but oh, were they cruel.

When you ripped yourself out of your blissful slumber, your flesh was crawling with a misty perspiration, from the intensity and the subject matter. It was something salacious — David fucking you into oblivion, your mind consumed whole by those golden-orange eyes.

You felt dirty for dreaming of such a thing, but in the presence of mind-reading vampires, especially ones that could manipulate your thoughts, it was bound to happen. David enjoyed using that sway on you in the name of playfulness, but he used it to torment you, too.

Tangled within a snare of sheets, you sat up, adjusting your nightshirt. David had a penchant for making you wear things that belonged to him, covering you in his scent. It was a tattered black t-shirt that hadn’t seen daylight in many years, you suspected.

The cavern was unnaturally silent, lacking the rancor and energy that the boys brought to it. It was just you, alone within your nest, distraught by your dreams.

David’s hold upon you was nothing short of supernatural, and the bond that you shared only strengthened his unorthodox abilities. His voice rang throughout your mind, crisp and clear as if he were merely standing a few feet away. You pictured his sardonic laughter and his charismatic sneer.

Glistening rays of moonlight pooled through the gap in the top of the cave, indicating that it was dusk. You assumed that they all must’ve been at the boardwalk, indulging in their vices and feeding frenzy.

With your humanity still intact, your circadian rhythm was quite different from that of your vampiric compatriots, but you were still learning to be on their time — David, in particular. You began to fix your bed, untangling yourself from the snare of sheets. Faint noises echoed throughout the cavern, the only ambiance you had.

A brief clatter caused you to jump, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. You were more tense than usual, still feeling very disoriented and dazed from your onslaught of dreams. Sometimes, you hated them — hated that David tormented you in such a way.

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, resulting in a warm wave of arousal that pooled between your thighs. You pinched at the bridge of your nose, half-tempted to lay down and let your hand do all of the work in an attempt to chase some sort of release.

Before you could even consider it fully, a bout of alluring laughter resonated from the darkness above, an expanse of cavernous abyss untouched by light. The shadows were alive, stirring with a familiar presence as sanguine-orange hues observed you with a cruelty to them; a cruelty you knew.

“Poor thing,” David crooned, haughtily perched in the rocks above your nest, watching you with a visceral interest. You looked so pretty — all pent-up and disheveled, bearing his scent upon your supple flesh. It was how he liked you. “Bad dreams?”

You scoffed, attempting to feign disdain, but the veil was thin — you were flustered and hot, arms loosely folding within your lap. “How long have you been up there?” You asked, throat becoming thick. You knew that David must’ve gotten his fill of watching you thrash about, your mind swarming with him.

David’s dark, enticing chuckle resonated throughout the alcove. You could envision his smug, arrogant expression — a face you’d grown to love, unfortunately for you. “Long enough,” He mused, clicking his tongue. “Long enough to smell you.” His teasing tone only made you embarrassed.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You grumbled, but realization struck you — he was here with you, alone. He’d let the boys go out without their leader, unchaperoned and off the leash. That was extremely unusual for David, and it made you wonder.

“Is that why you keep coming back, kitten?” David mused, leaning forward until he broke through the shadows, glowering down at you with an incendiary expression. That playful mockery still remained, but the wave of desire festering inside of him began to overpower anything else.

You held your tongue, gazing up at him with a wistful sense of longing. Despite David’s crueler proclivities and cocksure attitude, you did love him — he was yours, after all. Those piercing, icy eyes of his raked over you, jaw tensing and unclenching.

“Please come down,” Desperation crept into your voice, shameless and unadulterated as you pressed your thighs together, attempting to fight away your arousal. Your fingers idly toyed with the hem of your shirt, hoping that he would comply with your request. “I—I need you.”

David smirked, a fire swirling within his eyes as he cocked his head to one side. “Is that so, sweetheart?” He hummed, slinking down from his perch as he stood in front of you, reaching out to grab your jaw with his gloved digits. He traced his thumb over your lower lip.

“Yes,” You squeaked, keening into his embrace. He looked so intimidating and imposing like this — dressed in dark colors, eclipsing all flickers of candlelight as his shadow fell over you. It enveloped you, kept you anchored. “David, please. I want you.”

“I know you do,” He uttered. “You belong to me.” His voice — it was enchanting, like a siren’s song, tempting you into deeper waters. David began to lean forward, inhaling your scent as he brazenly nipped at your jaw. “Wet from the thought of me, aren’t you?”

Your head bobbed up and down several times over in a fervent nod, feeling him come closer, mouth hovering above yours. Saliva coalesced within your mouth, lips practically clamoring for him, and he let you. You kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.

His hand grabbed at the nape of your neck, hard enough to bruise as he pulled you forward, all teeth and tongue, domineering as ever. David’s throat burst with a snarl, chest rumbling as he bit at your lower lip. The whimpering sound that emerged from you only poured fuel onto the fire, igniting lust and desire.

In a frenzy, you grabbed at his coat, hands pushing themselves against his chest. You were itching for a release, for some sliver of friction or attention. David started this mess — you wanted him to finish it.

The sound of his sneering laughter as he grinned into your mouth made you tense up, watching as he drew away just enough to see you. “My mess?” He clicked his tongue, teeth catching around his glove as he pried it off, hand immediately snaking toward the juncture between your legs, underneath your underwear.

As soon as those thick digits slid against your slick cunt, you knew that you were in for it. Your heart began to beat erratically, wrought with excitement as you let out a hapless moan. “David, I— Please!” Those simpering pleas of yours were met with an enticing grin as he dragged his teeth along your neck.

“This is your mess,” David corrected, shamelessly bullying his way into your thoughts. There was plenty for him to peruse through — your sheepish fantasies, memories, and embarrassment. He savored it all, licking his lips like a cat who’d caught the canary. “Why should I clean up after you?”

Humanity was a blessing — yours, at least.

David could’ve licked your sweet skin and tasted your excitement, delighted by the little hitch in your throat and the way you squirmed. There was something intoxicating about you, about your fragility and ability to be molded, to be manipulated — to become his.

Your lips parted, eyes wide and doe-like as you ground your hips into his fingers. He couldn’t help but laugh, pushing you down onto the mattress as he loomed above, thumb flicking your clit with a feather-light sensation. It was just enough to keep you wanting more of it, chasing after it.

“Please!” You didn’t care if it seemed pathetic — you only wanted him. “Please, David! I—I’ll do anything, I just need you!” His countenance was characteristically smug and bemused, cerulean hues dancing with a fervor that made you shudder with delight.

“You’ll do anything,” David parroted, gaze flickering toward the large, tarnished mirror that sat across from your bed. The only image present was you, splayed out for him — his mind began to churn with an idea. “I think you���ll like this.”

With inhuman strength, David plucked you up as if you weighed nothing, turning you around to face the mirror, keeping your back pinned against his chest. It was just your reflection — disheveled, pupils dilated with lust, shirt rucked up around your hips.

He squeezed your throat with one hand, the other languidly dancing across your cunt, digits toying with your clit. “David,” You whined, feeling him recoil, only to remove your panties altogether with a simple snap of his wrist, tearing the fabric asunder. “W—What are you doing?” You slurred, shivering when his teeth snagged your earlobe.

“Making sure that you see yourself, kitten.” David purred, biting down on the sensitive flesh of your ear, breath ghosting along the cartilage. “You look perfect like this,” His murmured, voice dropping to a husky octave as he finally began to sink his fingers into you. “I want you to watch.”

A wave of pressure assaulted your lower jaw as David turned your face towards the mirror, and you wanted to shy away from it all. It was awkward and unusual, but there was something wildly attractive about it at the same time. You could feel his thumb circle your clit, fingers seeking your entrance.

His stubbled jaw scraped across your silky flesh, causing you to shudder in excitement. Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. The mirror was glaring, a few feet across from you — even with him touching you, you were in ecstasy.

“David,” You sighed, throat bobbing underneath his palm as he applied a barrage of pressure, fingers beginning to find a rather brutal rhythm. He pistoned them in and out of your tight cunt, thumb occasionally flicking over your clit for added pleasure. You rocked against him, his physique cold beneath his clothing, akin to a marble statue — hard and unyielding. “Feels so good.”

The soft lull of his dark laughter made you shiver, hips jolting and keening into the sensation of his fingers. He showered you in vigorous kisses, mouth roaming across the expanse of your neck and shoulder. David began to bite at your flesh, soothing it over with the chill of his tongue.

Your hand grasped at his forearm, using it as a crutch as he continued to finger-fuck you, pace having increased to something vigorous. The white-hot intensity only served to make your legs buckle, liquid heat oozing between your legs. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you.

“Good girl,” David murmured, visage buried against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. You whimpered, cunt tight and hot around his fingers. You were a mess — his little human, his thrall. “Such a desperate little thing.”

He squeezed at your jaw, harshly angling your mouth toward his, lips colliding in a blaze of teeth and tongue. Those sharp fangs momentarily caught your lower lip, withdrawing a pearl of crimson. David eagerly lapped at your cruor with a lustful expression, eyes unnaturally bright.

Between the sensation of his digits pistoning in and out of your cunt and his tongue invading your maw, you very nearly collapsed. That familiar ringing of his laughter reverberated throughout your mind, causing you to moan into another heated kiss.

David’s hand wandered from your throat to your chest, pinching at one of your nipples. It was cruel, with enough force to make you writhe as he groped at the swell of your breast. He contorted you, bent you however and wherever he pleased. Your reflection in the mirror was one of complete and utter submission.

He began to curl his fingers, forcing his way inside of your cunt once more. Molten heat oozed around his digits, which he seemed eager to taste, once he’d had his fun with you. David playfully nipped at your jaw, palm kneading into your chest as he kept you pinned to his chest; nowhere to go.

A hapless, wanton moan escaped you, causing you to careen backward, snug against him. David growled, erection digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience — you, on the other hand, not so much.

“You want the others to hear you?” David inquired, voice sharp and commanding, making you tremble beneath his grasp. Those glistening fangs of his tauntingly scraped across your flesh again, cerulean hues replaced with orange-red irises.

You immediately shook your head, wondering if the boys were back — you were too absorbed within your own satisfaction to notice. A pang of embarrassment washed through you, causing your flesh to become blistering hot.

David chuckled, pinching at your nipple again, which only served to make you yelp. “I think you do, kitten.” He purred, his tone alluring and husky, ghosting above the shell of your ear. “Should I ask Dwayne if he’d like to join?” You knew that he was somewhat serious.

“N—No! I just want you, David,” You mewled, gasping when his thumb rolled over your clit, having abandoned it for so long. “Please!” Admittedly, the thought of having one of them partake alongside David was tantalizing, but you felt too flustered to go through with it.

“You’re not a very good liar.” David chided, moving inwards for another kiss before he twisted you back in the direction of the mirror. He was hellbent on making you watch, grin akin to that of a ravenous wolf as he withdrew his digits from your cunt. “Open.”

His command was met with an instantaneous response as your lips parted, breath hitching within your throat as David moved to place his fingers upon your tongue. He made sure that you were watching, gaze hawkish and calculating as you sucked on his digits.

You could taste yourself, thighs quivering from your denied orgasm. David always built you up, only to rip it away at the very end, but he had other intentions. He pressed his digits toward the back of your throat, nearly laughing when you sputtered and gagged.

“Good,” He hummed, slipping one hand toward his pants to free his cock, grinding himself against you a time or two, allowing you to feel. “Keep watching, kitten. We’re almost there.” David growled, biting at your neck again with a blatant roughness.

The position remained the same, your back caged in against his chest as he guided himself toward your entrance, replacing his fingers with his cock. David was rarely gentle with you, preferring to unleash his desire and aggression — and you were beyond satisfied with that.

There was love and possessiveness interlaced in his ministrations, even if he didn’t fully realize it. David bullied his way in between your thighs, cock slipping into your tight cunt with a sudden amount of force. His hand returned to your throat as the other palm began grabbing at your thigh as he hitched it up.

Candlelight flickered throughout the alcove, dancing across your physique, basking you in an orange glow. The mirror glared back at you, allowing you to see what David had intended for the entirety of your time together.

His cock slipped in and out of your cunt with ease, rutting into you with a force that was nothing short of brutal and unyielding. David’s breath fanned across the crook of your neck, fangs continuing to linger there as he intermingled rough kisses and bites across your flesh. If blood emerged, he lapped it up like a starving animal.

“David,” You whined, locked within his vice-like grip. His leather-clad arms bracketed you against him, not allowing for much space whatsoever. Molten heat oozed freely from between your legs as you coated his cock in your arousal. “P—Please don’t stop!”

With a low, rumbling grunt, he shoved his hips forward once again, pushing his way into you. His cock was buried deep within your cunt, and David developed a rhythm of almost pulling out before fucking his way back into you. His fingertips prodded and kneaded all around your body, leaving bruises in tender places.

The glassy glare of the mirror only revealed your reflection — disheveled, reduced to a quivering, moaning mess as David had his way with you. Your eyes flickered toward the slate of glass, and the sight of you was messy, at best. David didn’t think so, but you did.

Your thoughts were practically screaming, aching for him in every way imaginable. David had difficulty keeping himself out, lips parting as he sucked another messy hickey into your neck. Your cunt clenched around his cock when he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a chuckle from him.

A canvas — that’s what you’d become. Your flesh served as a supple expanse for David to mark and toy with, savoring the way you submitted to him so very easily. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, coupled with the sting of sex and arousal.

“I want to kiss you,” You moaned, hoping that he would comply with your request. The way in which he fucked you now, all contorted and unable to see him, made you incredibly frustrated. David knew this, able to smell your mounting agitation. “Please.”

Under certain circumstances, David would’ve denied you and simply put you on all fours to prove a point, but some sliver of him wanted to see your face when he fucked you. Wordlessly, he pulled himself out, seconds apart as he pushed you down onto the bed, making sure you were on your back this time.

“I suppose you’ve earned it,” David hummed, his stare igniting with a newfound wave of lust as he surveyed your naked frame. He pushed his way in between your legs, crawling on top of you like a dark shadow. His cock prodded at your slick cunt, forcing its way back inside as he resumed his rough pace. “Go on, kitten.”

His voice was intoxicating — always spoken through the alluring roll of his tongue, emerging from between pearlescent teeth. David snickered when you clamored forward, hands tugging him down, mouth desperately latching onto his as you kissed him.

David snarled into your mouth, chest bubbling with a series of grunts as he fucked into you, rutting away at your tight cunt. He felt your knees squeeze at his clothed hips, fingers reaching for his platinum-blonde tresses. As soon as you pulled, his lips twitched into a smirk.

It was all teeth and tongue and unrequited want, with David pounding himself into you until he couldn’t go any further. His cock throbbed inside of you, eased by your slick as he bit at your lower lip.

One hand gripped at your thigh, hard enough to leave behind imprints as the other tangled around your throat yet again. The mirror showed a rather lascivious scene, of you being ravaged and fucked by some unforeseen force. To the untrained eye, it would’ve looked unnatural or downright terrifying.

“Getting close?” David uttered, watching as you nodded several times over. The pleasure from his fingers before had collided into the sensations you felt presently. His laughter was wolfish, accompanied by the faint curl of his lips as he pushed his hips forward.

“David!” You moaned, watching as he bent his head toward your chest, ravaging your collarbone in a series of rough kisses. Fangs nicked your supple flesh, visage buried beside your heart, beating just above your breast. With a brusque tug of his hair, you rolled your body into him, yearning for the friction.

Your vampiric paramour never relented, mouth tangling around one of your breasts as he bit at your nipple. A shrill whimper escaped you, hands clawing at his spiked tresses, clamoring for the nape of his neck. With another snap of his hips, your body became awash with pleasure.

An idle, satisfied hum escaped his lips, which continued to nibble and suck at your breasts. “That’s it,” David purred, a growl ripping through his throat as he fucked into you again. “Cum for me, kitten.” It wasn’t a statement — it was a command, one that you obeyed without effort.

It was supernatural, the power he exuded over you — and you were powerless to resist, slipping underneath the thrall of his spell. Your back arched into him, cunt clenching around his cock as you faded away into the white-hot abyss of your orgasm.

Carnal delight swirled through you, molten heat coalescing between your thighs as David rut into you, fucking you through it before he came inside of you. He didn’t need to breathe or compose himself — not like you did, trembling in the aftermath of your release.

David withdrew from you, watching as you sheepishly reached for your shirt. He stepped forward, cupping your jaw within his palm, able to feel the scorching heat of your flesh against his icy fingertips.

“Will you stay this time?” You murmured, keening into his embrace as his thumb traced across your lower lip. David often disappeared afterwards, whether it was to feed or do something else entirely. He occasionally sat in a velvet chair to placate you, but he was having a change of heart.

“Is that what you want?” David inquired, and once you nodded, he didn’t say anything else, wordlessly sitting on the edge of the mattress as you laid down. He wasn’t exactly the pillow-talk sort, but this would do — it was the closest he’d ever been.

You moved until he was within arm’s reach, feeling his leather-clad digits trace the curve of your jaw. Even if David’s callousness and cruelty was always predominant, you were fortunate to see him like this — somewhat docile and protective.

When David glanced toward the mirror, the only thing he saw was you — and that was how he wanted it to be. Just you and him, for all eternity.

[knockoffheart]

Neuman's Guard Dog (1/3)

summary: desperate times call for desperate measures. victoria neuman has procured a vial of compound V and intends to use it on you. she can't always be there to protect you.

warnings: drug coercion, hurt/comfort, graphic descriptions of bodily harm, murder, violence, blood, reader turned supe, body horror, neuman is not a good person (but we still love her), mentions of politics, general ‘The Boys’ show disclaimer, also NO SMUT (rip)

before you read: Reader is aware of Vic's blood powers. NOT aware of Vic's head explosions (ex. congress attack), relationship to Stan Edgar, The Boys (especially Hughie being involved). Sameer and Zoe do not exist in any of my AUs. Reader has been in life-threatening situations before, not a fan of them, but has been in at least two before.

Tensions are rising across the country, the world is getting more dangerous by the minute. There has already been two attempts on Victoria's life, she's made certain you are unaware of this; she's made certain you know nothing of Butcher and his "Boys". The risk of you being hurt because is far too high.

She promises she will make your relationship public after the election, but she's lying. If the world finds out about you, you're dead. Homelander, Butcher, Stan Edgar... they all have the power to kill you, they just need to see the big shiny target on your back first.

-

The hotel room you are staying at is lavish, it makes you feel like a celebrity — which is appreciated when you're really just the Vice President elect's paramour. In reality, you know you're more than that, but being sealed in this room doesn't make you feel like it. You're lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, listening to a TV reporter cover the election in the background. You pull out your phone and check the voting map, it's more of the same. You groan and roll over, longingly awaiting Victoria's return. The monotonous voice of the reporter lulls you to sleep, only for you to be awoken shortly afterwards by Victoria’s gentle voice.

"I know I was gone longer than I said I would be," she closes the door behind her and sits next to you on the bed, "C'mere."

Victoria motions for you to lay your head in her lap and you oblige. She plays with your hair and stares at the television. Her silence causes you to turn on your back to get a better look at her face. Though her gaze is transfixed towards the screen, you notice her mind is elsewhere.

"You okay, honey?" you ask.

Victoria purses her lips and meets your eyes. Her serious expression causes you to sit up straight. Oh shit, she's gonna’ dump me. You shift uncomfortably, preparing for what's to come.

"I won't always be here to protect you. I- ... I can't deal with the thought of you getting hurt when I'm not around… I’m scared something is going to happen to you." Victoria takes your hands in hers, "I need you to do this for me."

She pulls out a capped needle full of blue liquid. You furrow your brows and gawk at her.

"W-Why do I need to... Vic, what is that?" you question.

The unnatural color of the liquid makes you uneasy. The only time you've seen that color is in TV shows about meth. Oh my god, does she want me to do meth? Your eyes widen even more. Why the fuck would she want me to do meth!?

"Compound V," she sets the needle down on the bed next to you. "It... It's what gave me my powers."

Not meth. You let out a sigh of relief, which is quickly replaced by a gasp of concern.

"Why do I need to take that!? What kind of danger am I in?" you yelp.

Victoria remains silent and looks away. You lean towards her, she's crying. Your stomach drops and you can't figure out what to say.

“Please. Just. Take. It." She places her hands on her face in an attempt to self pacify, "You'll be okay. I took it when I was a child and I'm fine. It is literally the only way for me to guarantee your safety, please." Her lip trembles.

You're speechless. She's never begged for anything before, let alone cried for it. You bounce your leg anxiously, working up the courage to do or say something. You grab her hand and pick up the needle.

"Okay. I-I will. I'll do it," you steady your voice, but your hand shakes as she takes the needle.

She sniffles and lets out an exasperated 'Thank you'. When she uncaps the needle you realize how huge it really is. Your breathing becomes more rapid and your whole body starts to tremble. You sit with your legs dangling off the front of the bed and she rolls up your shirt. You take in a deep breath and hold it, tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

"I love you," she presses a kiss into your shoulder as she injects the needle.

The second the blue fluid starts coursing through you, you feel like you should have asked a few more questions. That train of thought is cut off by a scorching pain. It feels like a wildfire is soaring through your veins. You cry out and collapse forward, supporting yourself up onto your elbows. Your whole body jerks from the pain. Victoria kneels down beside you and reaches for your arm, you pull away and stand. You sway unsteadily and stare down at her. Tears flow from her eyes but her face appears quiet, she knew how much this would hurt you. Your mixed emotions guide you to the bed and you throw yourself under the covers. You want to be mad, you want to scream and wail and kick until you see red but pain has sedated your anger. You can do nothing but sob and call for Neuman.

Victoria hurriedly joins you in bed, she pulls you close against her and pets your head. She kisses your forehead and whispers words of comfort. You choke on your cries and bury your face into her neck. You feel like you're dying. You find solace in the fact that it will be in her arms; and anguish in the fact that she will have been the one to kill you. At some point, your body gives out from exhaustion and you lie still.

-

The survival rate in adults injected with Compound V is an unsettling twenty percent. Victoria considered this, of course. She told you everyone in the company needed to submit bloodwork, for “insurance purposes”. It was a shit lie but you blindly followed her words anyway. She sent you to a Vought-owned lab and ran more in-depth tests. Your blood already contained slight traces of V, not enough for powers, but enough to give this new dose something to cling onto. This allows for a far less fatal outcome. She destroyed all evidence of the bloodwork afterwards, there's no need for you to know your own parents doped you as a newborn too. The powers you will gain can't be predicted, but she is satisfied with the guarantee of superhuman durability.

-

You wake up alone. You’re drenched in sweat but the pounding in your skull has ceased. I don’t feel any different? You slowly sit up and look around the room.

“Vic?”

You’re met with silence. You feel a pang of sorrow in your heart but chase away any forming tears. Upon getting up, you notice a water bottle and a small note.

‘ I swear I will make this up to you, I’ll be back as soon as a I can. I love you.

(If you feel up to it — counting is expected to wrap around 11, there’s an open bar!) ‘

You chug the water and drop the bottle letting bounce on the floor. You’re pissed at Vic. How much could she possibly care about my safety when she’s fully willing to abandoned my unconscious body… in a locked… fancy… You groan, she didn’t exactly leave you to the wolves but you’re feeling are still hurt. You trudge towards the bathroom, needing to wash off this whole event.

Thankfully, the shower makes you feel like a person again. You wipe the steam from the mirror and examine yourself — nothing seems different? You shrug and pat yourself dry. You find the oversized t-shirt you wore as pajamas last night and throw it on. Victoria’s red lipstick rests on the counter, it’s as sleek and polished as she is. The thought of her makes you smile, you are so quick to forgive. You pick it up to examine it but the sound of voices outside the door makes you stop abruptly.

Cautiously, you crack the door and call out for Victoria. It slams open and you’re met with two CIA agents, they stare down at you. You try to back up, but the taller man grabs your wrist and throws you into the center of the room.

Your body crashes into the floor, as you rise you notice two more people in the room; they’re hiding behind the kitchen island, a black-haired male and female in suits they appear uncomfortable in. Your attentions reverts back to your current attackers. The man who grabbed you squats in front of you.

"Care to explain what you're doing in Ms. Neuman's room?" he asks as the other man encroaches.

You remain silent and try to see what the two behind the island are trying to accomplish. A hard smack from the squatted man draws your attention back to the front. You still don't respond. He huffs and motions to his partner, who begins to draw his gun. You scramble back towards the wall, you can hear your heart beating and feel the hair on the back of your neck rise. An animalistic nature seems to be taking hold of you, all of your senses are on edge and there is a primal hunger creeping its way out of you. The click of the gun sets you off. You launch yourself off the wall and throw the armed man to the ground.

-

From behind the counter, Frenchie and Kimiko are left with their mouths agape. The harmony of feral growls and screams causes them to peer from behind the counter. They see you hunched over one of the guards covered in blood, the guards torso is torn open, rank viscera is splattered across the room. You spit out a chunk of red flesh and your eyes target the other agent. Frenchie reaches for his in-ear walkie and calls for Hughie. Kimiko watches as the remaining agent unloads his firearm into your body. Unflinching, you continue your stalk towards him.

"Hughie! It seems like Neuman has turned your little friend into some kind of junkyard mutt- SHIT!" Frenchie and Kimiko duck behind the island as a severed arm comes flying towards them. Frenchie speaks in a hushed shout, "Your time to shine, Mon ami!

-

The remaining agent is left in pieces, several of which have ended up in completely different areas. The room is quiet, aside from your panting and the shuffling in the kitchen. You stare down at your hands; they're covered in blood and you notice your nails have grown much longer and sharper. Though the room has filled with the stench of iron, you can still pick up the scent of your two intruders. You attempt to move towards them, but the lack of an immediate threat to your life (and possibly the several bullets you took) causes your adrenaline to drop - you collapse onto the floor. The pain of being thrown, beat, and shot catches up to you. You whine and dig into your wounds, trying to claw out the searing bullets. The duo stand from behind the counter and the man shouts to you.

"I would not to that if I was you!" He raises his hands out and steps towards you. You stare daggers back at the man.

Before you can shout whatever obscenities were slowly developing in your clouded mind, the door flies open. Hughie Campbell pauses in the doorway and takes in the scene around him.

"Jesus Christ..." he mutters.

"I told you, Victoria has fucked her!" Frenchie ushers Kimiko out the door and quickly follows, "Deal with this how you want, we must get back to the task at hand."

Hughie makes his way towards you and freezes when you look up at him, you are sitting on the floor like a wounded dog, blind from fear. Your eyes are completely black, your teeth resemble that of a well-fed wolf, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood. Hughie cautiously kneels down next to you and places his hand on your shoulder. He calls your name and directs your attention to his face. Slowly, you recognize the man in front of you and steady your breathing. He watches your eyes return to normal, the black slowly pooling itself into your dilated pupil.

"Hughie..." your voice is a whisper, "I-".

You finally take in the devastation around you, which stretches floor to ceiling, window to wall. The reality of the situation hits you and you burst into tears. Hughie hesitates before placing his other hand on your opposite shoulder and sighing.

"I can't believe she dragged you into this. I… I'm sorry."

"Oh my god- Hughie! I'm going to fucking prison," you whimper, "Oh fuck-“

You push away from Hughie and try to steady your breath. He backs off and stands.

"I'm actually fairly confident that won't happen," he gazes down and his face flushes red.

He turns away and offers his hand out to you, "L-Lets get you out of here, and get some pants on."

You clutch his hand and rise up, pulling the t-shirt down over yourself. He opens the drawers of the hotel's dresser and stops once he finds one with something in it. He holds out a pair of boxers, several sizes too big and extremely gaudy. You make a face and he tosses them towards you and turns around.

"They're better than nothing, okay? Everything else is fucking drenched in CIA agent…" he reasons.

He grabs a sheet from the bed and wraps it around you before heading out the door. You make your way to a utility van parked behind the hotel. Hughie slides open the door and you're met with a bearded man pointing a gun at you.

"JESUS! Butcher put that away!" Hughie bends over and catches his breath.

"No way that one is getting in here," his pistol remains focused on you, "Last thing we need is Neuman storming in here and popping all our heads."

Hughie starts to protest and Butcher cocks back the hammer. You place a hand on Hughie's chest and feed him a forced smile.

"It's okay, Hughie," you assure as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you, for getting me out of there,” you feel the barrel of Butcher's gun pressed against your temple. Your breath hitches and you pull away. Hughie hops into the van and it screeches away.

You are left alone in the parking lot and limp to a nearby alleyway. You hop around shards of broken glass and find an abandoned milk crate, you'll catch your breath here and then figure out a game plan. You sit yourself down and hear small clinking noises near the ground of the milk crate. The bullets previously lodged in you are being spit out of your skin, the craters they once resided in have filled themselves and you notice you're in a lot less pain. A sigh of relief falls from your lips and you shed the sheet wrapped around your shoulders. You feel a small prick in your neck and move your hand towards the pain, a needle resides in the crook of your neck, before you can turn around you go limp.

In your last moments of alertness, you read the lettering on the van you're being pulled in to.

'VOUGHT INTERNATIONAL'

Fuck.

|

authors note: part two is basically wrote in my mind already i just need to type it out <3 thanks for reading, after this next chapter im going to write for Maeve for a little bit and then possibly release a blank slate smut fic.. who’s to say really

[tip jar]