#Due to the later actions of edge

[sbnkalny]

Why am I laughing? Apologies, my friend. It's just that as an INTJ, these illogical actions of yours…well, I find them to be amusing.

What's that? A free sample of your store's new crispened potato snacks? Not necessary. I've already calculated its flavor in my head. Mmm…perhaps a little more Sodium Chloride next time…

Why am i alive. In the Later actions of edge, Azel and the Seekers, the tower of worms. You're the last shred OF human events it becomes necessary for one free man, report him. civic deeds do not go. However, we Calculated that adding all that glunk. He had a contrary idea to make a little more time with US

[monstersholygrail]

In The Darkness

Shadow demon x fem!reader— sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms, bondage (cuffs), groping, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, finger sucking, aftercare

Your shadow demon bf had opened your eyes and welcomed you into a whole new world of pleasure that was just waiting to you both to explore. And you have. You’ve done things you never thought you’d enjoy due to the love and trust you have in your bf. In return you’ve gained so many new experiences that you’d never want to take back.

At this point you’ve pretty much stopped asking questions whenever your shadow demon bf proposes that he wants to try something new with you. But this time you think you have to ask some questions.

Because when your shadow demon bf tells you that he wants to fuck you in complete darkness, you’re insanely confused. Sure, you two have never done that before. Always having on at least a candle so that you can see each other as your bf fucks your brains out. But this is far from the craziest thing you two have ever done and it’s left you having no clue what’s going on.

Still, you trust your bf. You follow his exact instructions and you relish in the submission of it. Of letting go of all thought and action, your bf’s voice being your only guiding light. Especially as the darkness surrounds you and it’s the only true thing you can grasp onto.

Tingles shoot up your spine. A smirk begins to play on your lips as you realize the possible appeal. A eery chuckle shifts through the darkness and you jump as a moment later two clawed hands firmly grip onto the waist of your bare form. The prickly tips of sharpened claws caress up and down the curve of your stomach, leaving sparks in their wake.

“What a vision you are in the darkness, my heart. Now do you see mine?” Your bf’s haunting yet alluring voice whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise along your skin and your smile widens, getting a sense of his intentions with this newest request.

His touch as gentle as the wind, coursing through the pathway of your body till he reaches your breasts and the caress turns firm and purposeful. Groping you and pulling you tightly into his large chest. Your grasp rings out through the dark silent space. It’s echos vibrating and increasing the tension between you.

Leaning back into the comfort of his embrace, you moan. Nothing else to turn to, to focus on, besides his touch. Bringing the sensations to a new height till you’re writhing against him before he’s even done anything to you.

“Near total sensory deprivation, the only real thing being my voice. All of your senses now completely at my mercy,” Shadow demon bf rasps darkly, finally giving you some of his reasoning behind all this.

You have to admit that the idea of it is arousing and your body agrees as your pussy floods with your essence. Always so nice and wet for him, you can’t help it. Everything he says has your nerves standing on edge and your cunt fluttering and begging to be filled.

Careful claws tease and tweak at your nipples, whimpers escaping you as you tremble in his secure hold. You cry out, rubbing your thighs together to gain any semblance of friction you can get. Yet it’s not enough, your hole so achingly empty and needing to be stuffed full. Your mind grows foggy and centers in on this one desperate thought.

“Lost in the void and who is the only thing that can ground you?” Shadow demon bf whispers into your ear again, his forked tongue slithering out and licking along the smooth curve of your ear.

The sensation is quick, tantalizing, and gone far too soon. You whimper, leaning back into him. Your body, floating as if on cloud nine, seeking out that skilled tongue of his. Knowing with every fiber in what’s left of your present being that you’ll get it. So long as you’re good for him.

“You are,” you croak out, voice weak and wanting.

A low rumbles moves through your bf’s chest in agreement, clearly pleased with your willing and eager response. The loss of his touch on your breasts, on your hard nipples, is a hit your floating mind can barely handle. A loud whine escaping you until his cool touch returns, moving along your curves. The further down he goes the less you can breathe, simply waiting.

“That’s right, my starlight,” he says as his deft fingers dip into your folds, spreading them and spearing themselves along your slit. Your breath knocks out of you, exhaling heavily as he ignites the nerves of your pussy lips. They clench and contort around him, mindlessly guiding the digits to delve inside your hole.

Shadow demon bf chuckles at the feeling, causing your cheeks to tinge with red. Thankful that even if he can feel you, he won’t be able to see you in your lewdness. Another thing the darkness around you provides. Another thing you’re looking forward to. Your bfs voice and the slow glide of his fingers snaps you out of your thoughts.

“You overwhelm me, sweet one. You are all I feel and all that grounds me to this plane. I believe it’s time I repay the favor.”

Shadow demon bf’s fingers don’t leave you as his other hand guides you to bend down at the waist. Your own arms reach out, carelessly searching through the darkness until you find it. Fingers curl around the metal cuffs suspended in front of you. The click of each lock as they enclose around your wrists has your back arching, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“Look at you, so good and ready for me,” Shadow demon bf mumbles, drawing lazy circle against your clit as he kneels down on the ground behind you. You whimper and push back, though his free hand is quick to grab at your plush thigh. Keeping you in place.

His keen eyes reflect in the darkness, giving him access to view everything in front of him. Yet you remain completely clueless. Just how he wants you. Your legs spread further as his fingers slide back down your slit, giving him the sight of your beautiful dripping pussy. Your essence dribbling down your thighs and making such a mess. A mess he’s more than ready to clean up.

In an instant that tongue you’ve been waiting for is back and it’s back with a vengeance. Your body jolts, cuffs clanging and ringing in your ears, surprised by the sudden slick texture of his forked tongued sliding along your thigh and pushing through your folds. Not having expected more than his touch at the moment. The darkness riding you of knowing what’ll happen next.

Though your anticipation doesn’t have time to build as shadow demon bf glides his tongue through your folds, swirling around your clit in a mind-numbing manner. You moan, body rolling into the sensations but not knowing where exactly to move. Leaving you to squirm in search of your bf.

Shadow demon bf grins viciously and you can feel it against your cunt, knowing his enjoying this. Loving how you struggle and silently beg for more of him. His hands shift to your hips, both keeping you in place and letting you know where he’ll be.

All you get in warning is a growl before your bf begins ravaging your pussy, sloppily lapping up your cunt. His hands spread your ass cheeks, widening the entrance for his tongue to slide deep inside your weeping pussy. Pressure weighs down in your belly as your pleasure builds, rising onto your toes and giving him better access.

He grunts his thanks and repeats his rhythm with precise precision and never ending stamina. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your cunt until you explode around it. Your walls clenching around his tongue, your essence gushing onto his tastebuds. Shadow demon bf growls and unhinges his jaw, taking in every last damn drop and working you through it.

Both of you are breathing heavily as your orgasm begins to fade and your bf leans back. You still can’t see, hear, or feel anything beside the cold metal around your wrists. The only noise your breaths. Aside from that the silence stretches on and it has the hair on the back of your neck standing up straight.

“Ready for more?” Your bfs voice suddenly growls in your ear and you shout. Body jerking back and you immediately bump into his broad frame and right into his huge girth. His erection nestling against your ass.

Your eyes scatter and search the surroundings over the shoulder you hear him from but you can’t see anything. Only darkness. Before you can respond your bf crashes his lips against yours and you let out another muffled shout. But you respond without a beat of hesitation, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue back inside your body. Both of you moaning into it as your cum tickles your own tastebuds.

Shadow demon bf’s cock slowly starts grinding into you, neither of you breaking your kiss. You stay perfectly still for him, keeping yourself wide open and needy for his length. Still not getting your fill of wanting to be split in two.

With your body all prepped for him, your bf guides his dick through your folds. Whimpers leaving you as his tip bumps into your sensitive clit. Your bf nips at your tongue affectionately before you feel his big mushroom tip, leaking heavily with pre-cum, push at your entrance.

With a simply push forward, your bf breaks past your entrance, sinking down into your eager sopping cunt. Your jaw drops, a loud moan lights the room up with noise as his cock stretches your walls for all their worth. Forcing its way in and demanding you submit to its sheer girth and the pleasure it’ll bring. You relax as much as you can, practically sucking him inside of you.

Shadow demon bf growls, your walls nearly suffocating him you’re so fucking tight. When he bottoms out his tip nudges at your cervix. The pain sharp and aching but so delicious. You close your eyes, basking in it all. You feel so full and so complete with him inside you.

Your breaths mingle and mix in the space between your mouths. Eyes open you continue trying to search for your bf in the dark, even knowing it’s useless. Wanting to see how much of a mess you make him and even maybe wanting him to see just how thoroughly he destroys you.

By the way he draws you, making you feel every thick and bulging vein along his cock against your walls before roughly snapping his hips back inside you, you almost swear he can see you. That he knows how much of a mess you truly make him. But that’s impossible right?

All worries and thoughts leave you in the blink of an eye as Shadow Demon bf starts up his demolishing pace. Claws carefully sinking into you to keep you steady. A loud roar rumbles through the room and you jump in your bones, which only serves to push your body back into his intense thrusts.

Your bf grunts, clearly approving and you cry out as he starts moving your body back into his cock, having you meet the rough rolls of his hips. Your body tenses, cunt clenching down around him and having you feel even more full.

Tossing your head back, your teeth clench, pleasure crashing through you in waves you can’t even think to stop as there’s nothing else for you to ground yourself with. Your lost in the sea of pleasure, tingling sensations of arousal pulsing within your body and spreading out over and over again.

Your bf watches your body twist and contort in order to take his giant cock and everything it’s making you feel. A twisted satisfaction burns through him at how much of a beautiful mess you look. The sight has him picking up his pace, slamming his length inside you, molding your perfect pussy to his shape. Making his home here and showing you he’ll never leave.

Moans and cries of pleasure are no longer enough as you release a fierce scream. You can faintly hear your bfs low groan, his voice feeling so far away. Lost in the abyss your hands try and reach for something— anything. But the clang of the cuffs is all that rings true. Sparking an idea in your mind you try and reach forward, hoping you can ground yourself by placing the chain of the cuffs in your mouth.

But just as you reach it, Shadow demon bf pulls you back and burys his cock back inside your crying and begging cunt. Emotion wells up inside your chest and you sob, tears coming to your eyes. Your body moves back into your bfs chest and his voice comes back down to your ear.

“Sh, sh, sh, my love. It’s alright, you’re alright,” he whispers soothingly, hand coming up to stuff a few of his large fingers into your mouth. You whimper, sucking eagerly, letting the sturdy size of his digits ground you back down to earth and help calm you down.

His other hand soothingly caresses your stomach as he continues to fuck into you, his pace not slowing down for a second. Making sure to take care of all your needs at once. Small whimpers continue to leave you, feeling better as his presence surrounds you and stays in your mouth and pussy. You move back into his thrusts again, all on your own.

Tendrils of darkness creep up from the deep and curl around your body. Having been used to them they only provide further comfort to you. One long tentacle wraps up and strokes at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. With a firm press of his hand on your stomach and a few more snaps of his hips, you scream once more, this time around his fingers as your orgasm bursts through you.

Your cum paints Shadow demon bf’s cock, your walls spasming and clenching down on his length. Sparks shoot up his spine and his teeth sink into your shoulder as he follows right after you into climax, his heavy load splashing deeply against your womb and filling your pussy even more than you thought was possible. His hips still rocking into you until you both sag into each other.

Shadow demon bf slides out of you gently but you still hiss at the slight sting. As your combined release spills out of you, you shiver and clench down to keep it inside of you. Your bf lights the room with a snap of his fingers and you breathe a sigh of relief as your senses come back to you. As gently as always, he unlocks you from the cuffs. Massaging your wrists and kissing them adoringly.

He guides you to bed, whispering praises, recounting every moment of what just happened through his eyes. Letting you know how good you did, how perfect you were for him, how absolutely gorgeous you looked then and now, and asking how you feel to make sure you’re alright.

Pouring endless praise and love onto you as he cleans up the mess between your thighs before he sweeps you up into his arms the moment you two get into bed. Pressing soft kisses all of your face and sore body. It’s only as you finally relax do you register all his words.

“Could you see me in the dark?” You ask incredulously, voice slightly raspy as you connect the dots. Your bf chuckles and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading his response and forcing your own laughter down.

“‘Course I could, sweetheart. I’m a shadow demon,” he responds with amusement but your loud groan quickly overshadows his laughter. Red blooming across your chest and up your neck till it spreads all across your face. Your bf merely laughs louder, his hands caressing your back. Wanting to comfort you some before the inevitable teasing begins.

[littlemssam]

!Important Warning!

These Days some Mods containing Malware have been uploaded on various Sites.

The Sims After Dark Discord Server has posted the following Info regarding the Issue:

+++

Malware Update: What We Know Now To recap, here are the mods we know for sure were affected by the recent malware outbreak: "Cult Mod v2" uploaded to ModTheSims by PimpMySims (impostor account) "Social Events - Unlimited Time" uploaded to CurseForge by MySims4 (single-use account) "Weather and Forecast Cheat Menu" uploaded to The Sims Resource by MSQSIMS (hacked, real account) "Seasons Cheats Menu" uploaded to The Sims Resource by MSQSIMS (hacked, real account)

Due to this malware using an exe file, we believe that anyone using a Mac or Linux device is completely unaffected by this.

If the exe file was downloaded and executed on your Windows device, it has likely stolen a vast amount of your data and saved passwords from your operating system, your internet browser (Chrome, Edge, Opera, Firefox, and more all affected), Discord, Steam, Telegram, and certain crypto wallets. Thank you to anadius for decompiling the exe.

To quickly check if you have been compromised, press Windows + R on your keyboard to open the Run window. Enter %AppData%/Microsoft/Internet Explorer/UserData in the prompt and hit OK. This will open up the folder the malware was using. If there is a file in this folder called Updater.exe, you have unfortunately fallen victim to the malware. We are unware at this time if the malware has any function which would delete the file at a later time to cover its tracks.

To quickly remove the malware from your computer, Overwolf has put together a cleaner program to deal with it. This program should work even if you downloaded the malware outside of CurseForge. Download SimsVirusCleaner.exe from their github page linked here and run it. Once it has finished, it will give you an output about whether any files have been removed.

+++

For more Information please check the Sims After Dark Server News Channel! Or here https://scarletsrealm.com/malware-mod-information/

TwistedMexi made a Mod to help detect & block such Mods in the Future: https://www.patreon.com/posts/98126153

CurseForge took actions and added mechanics to prevent such Files to be uploaded, so downloading there should be safe.

In general be careful, where and what you download, and do not download my Mods at any other Places than my own Sites and my CurseForge Page.

[versadies]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman! (various x gn!reader)

SALUTATIONS. in a world of boys, he's a gentleman!

ADDRESSED. alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, and neuvillette (x gn!reader)

STAMPS. the little things they do around you that remind you that chivalry is not dead <3

CONTENT. ooc!neuvi (?), ooc!wriothesley (?), fluff/no-angst, established relationships, possibly cheesy (i like cheese), and possible grammar errors. some of the things mentioned can be applicable to others!

POST-SCRIPT. can you already tell that these four own my heart? i love them sm ( >-< )!!! also made new banners for a change hehe

LINKS. masterlist \ taglist

Although ALHAITHAM is someone who prefers to focus greatly on himself and prioritizes his own well-being over others', that does not mean he is selfish nor inconsiderate. Which is why it is not far-fetched for someone like him to do the little things that proves the fact that chivalry is not dead.

Though of course, he does it in his very own way. You just have to be very observant to notice it. 

For instance, whenever you two are sitting in front of the table, he’d cover the edge whenever you lean down to get something that fell from the table, ensuring that you don’t bump your head from the furniture and get hurt. 

Another instance is when you’d rant on and on in his presence, thinking he’s not listening to you due to his earpieces that’s used to cancel out meaningless noises. When in reality, he’s actually listening to you —  because to him, your words are always something of importance to him whether he’d admit that or not. 

It doesn’t even matter if you’re talking about your day, complaining about prices, or even expressing your concerns over things you shouldn’t even be concerned about; he’d listen without a word if not necessary, because if it’s important to you, then it’s important to listen about it. Though of course, the only exceptions are when you’d actually talk about something he doesn’t care about, such as gossip.

Meanwhile, in the bustling marketplaces of Sumeru, there’s bound to be scammers preying on oblivious consumers, and Alhaitham sees to it that you won’t fall for such things. It’s partially one of the reasons why he always tags along with you whenever you shop for groceries or for other things.

If a scammer tries their shot, they’ll only be greeted by a stern warning glare from the scribe as you look through the displayed products, only for your lover to drag you to a more appropriate stall that’s much better than the suspicious one. 

During the later stage of your relationship when you moved into his humble home, he made sure to have enough space for your things, and even sacrificed some of his own possessions for the sake of yours. 

Speaking of sacrifices, there are also times when he’d sacrifice his leisure time that he values in order to hang out with you. Despite your assurances that he doesn’t have to spend time with you if he wants to be alone, he doesn’t care and still hangs out with you anyway. 

In his perspective, it’s not a sacrifice, because spending his spare time with you is much better than spending it alone. 

It’s the little things that remind you that he does care. Though, you couldn’t help but try and confront him about his actions since you want to hear it from his mouth. 

When you do though, you’ll only get a deadpan look from him and a few words:

“Isn’t that the bare minimum of what boyfriends should do anyway?”

ZHONGLI is no doubt a traditional gentleman when it comes to not just you, but also towards anyone around him. Of course, you’re still special in his eyes. After all, you’re his darling gem who is above any other treasures that he’s come across in this lifetime.

He always checks up on your well-being with care and tenderness that often causes your legs to become jelly-like. He never fails to bring heat to your face from how sweet he is!

Like your average traditional gentleman, Zhongli gives you his coat as soon as he sees even a slight sign of you feeling cold from Liyue’s breeze, caressing your arms with his glove-covered hands while he’s at it. Not that you’re complaining, especially from how good his cologne smells from his coat that just made you a little in a daze.

He’s willing to open doors for you to enter first, no matter your gender. He doesn’t want your hands to get dirty from door knobs that have been through things that only Celestia knows what, so he insists that he shall open them for you. In a way, it sounded a bit over the top, but how can you say no to such a kind man like your lover?

He sees to it that you’re the first one to be seated before him, pulling out a chair for you before sitting next to you. It’s almost essential for him to sit next to you, as if you’re a light that he finds himself drawn to. 

When it comes to eating together, he offers you a bite of his meal that he either made or ordered, wanting you to try the delicious meal that’s made with precision and passion and appreciate it with him (though it usually ends up with him giving you more bites of it like a grandma would to her grandchild). Whenever he does this, he makes sure to blow the food first before giving it to you, not wanting your tongue to get burnt by accident. He even goes as far as putting his hand beneath the spoon to ensure nothing will spill on you and your clothes. 

Traveling is also to be expected when you’re with Zhongli, with you two visiting different areas of Liyue for a variety of reasons such as work, vacation, leisure time, etc. Whenever you two travel, he’s always there to give you a hand, especially when climbing up and going down. 

He’ll even go as far as putting his coat down on the ground for you to sit on to avoid your clothes becoming dirty should you two ever need a break, not wanting you to get too exhausted from your trip. 

Of course, we cannot forget how Zhongli has a sharp memory, so he knows the exact day for your relationship milestones and would never forget it. Expect him to celebrate things such as your first date-sary, monthsary, first kiss-sary, and the list goes on until you eventually tell him that most people (if not all) wouldn’t celebrate most of these things. 

That doesn’t stop him from greeting you with such occasions though ^^

It’s clear to see that the consultant loves you dearly and wants the best for you. The same goes to his dear friends and peers around him, and you couldn’t be all the more grateful to have such a man like him as your lover. In fact, his amber-hue eyes that you always seem to lose yourself to shines much brighter when he’s kind. 

“Why are you smiling? Is there something on my face?” He’d ask you when he catches you admiring him from your place. 

“Nothing. I just want to admire how perfect my boyfriend is.” You sigh dreamily, looking at him happily. “How are you such a perfect spouse?” 

He chuckles in response, now putting down his tea. “I beg to differ. Especially since the most breathtaking person in front of me is more worthy of such title.”  

It’s no lie to everyone in the Fortress – both inmates and guards alike – that WRIOTHESLEY adores you, even if he wouldn’t outright admit it. Though his words are nothing but silent, his actions speak louder. Out of the very few people that the duke trusts, you’re the one that comes to mind, and the same goes for you towards him. He’s quite honored that you trust him enough to let him become your spouse, and what better way to express that than actions? 

You’re rest assured that he always has tea saved for you whenever you come and visit his office. When you do, he always makes sure to pull out a chair for you to sit on, pour your cup with your drink of choice before pouring his tea on his own cup. 

For a man such as him, he’s observant and is quick to notice when someone is uncomfortable – in this case, you. As soon as he takes note of your discomfort or uneasiness, he is quick to comfort you and assure you that all’s well as he either swiftly takes you away from the scene or finds a way to help you go through it. 

With that in mind, Wriothesley understands if you find yourself preferring the world outside over the Fortress of Meropide. He gets it! He’s content with you just visiting whenever you can. He knows not everyone would be keen on staying in the stronghold prison for a long time, especially when they have no reason to besides visiting their spouse. 

Unless you’re an actual criminal, then that’s when you entirely have no choice but be stuck in the fortress and with him until you’re free to go. 

Speaking of criminals, danger lurks everywhere in Fontaine. You certainly can’t blame your lover for being quite protective with you, often telling you through his letters to be careful with going out at night and to not fall for any scammers or tricks by possible criminals that are still out there. He’s aware that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself from danger, but it doesn’t stop his worries even for one bit.

It’s not common for the Duke to come out from the Fortress and visit the city. When he does, there’s a huge chance that he’s seen with you, holding your hand as you two go on with your day as a couple. He does not show affection in public much, but that doesn’t mean holding hands would hurt! 

To others, he always seems so calm and collected on his own, but in comparison to how he acts with you, he’s much more content and relaxed, as if he’s in a utopian paradise that he feels at peace in as your laughter and voice soothes his unfaltering spirit. 

Should you ever ask for a mora of his thoughts from how distracted he was during your time spent together, you’ll only gain this response:

“Hm? Oh, forgive me for being distracted. You don’t have to worry about it.” He’d say casually, hiding the fact that he’s simply distracted from thinking about how much he wants this kind of experience to last forever.

Given that NEUVILLETTE is unfamiliar with human customs and feelings, the same goes for his unfamiliarity in the romance department. He didn’t think he’d end up courting someone, let alone form a personal relationship – especially since he avoids such things. However, you’re somehow an exception.

His experience in the court is unfortunately not enough to help him with his goal in winning your heart, yet somehow, he finds himself in a relationship with you. Though inexperienced and busy, he still has his perks that makes it up – such as his mannerisms.

Just like Zhongli, he’s quite a traditional gentleman. Not only will he help you sit down by pulling out a chair and remove your coat, he’d even make sure that none of your clothes, accessories, and even your hair would get caught in the furniture’s ornamentation to avoid the same inconveniences that he goes through in his daily life. 

He tends to hold your hand when the two of you go through the seats of the Opera Epiclese to watch a performance, dragging you to the best seat in the middle of the front row as he helps you become comfortable. After watching your first performance together, he never thought that watching a performance could be so enjoyable when you have companions to share the joy with. Where were you in his entire life?

On another note, Neuvillette is the type to carry your bags whenever the two of you go shopping or when he sees you holding something heavy, wanting to ease your burdens and struggles swiftly as he insists that he should help you. You should be able to have your hands free like a dove in his perspective. 

It shows that he’s willing to help you with anything you need, whether it’d be giving wise advice, getting something, lending a shoulder for you to cry on, and anything else so long as it eases your struggles. 

Given that he’s still exploring human customs and feelings, he entrusts you to guide him through it, and this means that he’s open with new things that he hasn’t tried before so long as it doesn’t clash with his busy schedule. 

He doesn’t mind doing particular activities with you, be it pot-making, watching documentaries, playing classic games, and the list goes on! If he has you by his side to try everything, then he’s okay with it all. 

Speaking of activities, Neuvillette has taken a liking for walking in the rain. He even fantasizes about going out into the rain, wanting to feel the raindrops pouring on him as he walks down the streets of Fontaine. 

Despite enjoying such joys, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t consider your comfort with the weather. Knowing how humans are with not wanting to become wet from the weather, your lover is there to help you in holding an umbrella that he’d bring should he hear any forecasts of rain beforehand. 

He makes sure that the entire umbrella is on you and stays that way, and he simply wouldn’t forgive himself if he sees even a few drops on your clothing that he could’ve prevented despite your assurances. 

If you ever expressed your concern of him getting drenched and possibly sick from the rain, he’d simply reassure you that it’s nothing to worry about, telling you that he does this very often whenever it rains. 

“Don’t worry about me, ma moitié.” He says with a tender gaze as he continues to walk side by side with you, holding the umbrella above you. “I will not get sick easily from the weather, nor do I mind having my clothes drenched. I want you to worry about yourself more.” 

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @ragnvdnr @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @astrequa @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing @shaiah @miss-lady-witch @yashe @imkaaayy @badlywrittens @0rah-s @totallynotaraidensimp @garlicforthewin

[dcxdpdabbles]

Phantom's number 1 Fan. Part 2

Tim wakes a few days later, half submerged in liquid and hooked to various machines. He is in a tub shaped like a bed, obviously meant to sleep in. Around him is what he hopes is a hospital room with medical tools scattered about and soft blue paint that turns to the night sky the higher it goes on the wall.

On the ceiling are paintings of various constellations. It's rather beautiful.

Tim also notices he feels no pain. None. Not even the aches of his bones after years of abuse while fighting crime. He thinks that's a bit strange since the last thing he could clearly remember was barely escaping Ra's al Ghul, losing his spleen, and gaining more wounds from angry assassins on his way out.

He had been flying half-blind, blinking in and out of awareness. He thinks at one point, Cassie had attempted to call him, and he may have answered, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he told her.

He did remember what she said in response. She sounded so desperate as she begged over the S-Batplane speakers. "Please, Tim, you're not well. Let us help you. Just tell me where you are."

Too bad for her, since the S in S-Batplane stand for Secert because Tim had built that one on his own in Secert. There was no way she or any of the hero community could track him in it since they had no idea it existed until Tim had taken it and his supplies on his solo mission to save Bruce.

Tim will admit that he is happy they noticed he went missing- even if it was three months too late. Not that it mattered much. The rest of the Bats wanted nothing to do with him. The world only saw him as a young easy wallet as a shiny new CEO. And his friends were all dead or convinced he was insane by Dick.

Tim didn't have anyone to notice he was gone anymore. But Bruce needed him to push through the ache and get him home.

As the Robin who Bruce trained to put the mission first no matter the cost, the one that came after Jason's death so, Bruce stopped allowing himself to think of Robin as a son and more along the lines of a soldier; he quickly shut down the crying child that wailed for someone to believe him, to support him.

Sometimes it felt like Tim was still waiting by the door of Drake Manor, waiting for someone to come and care for him, to stay for him.

The door to his room opens, snapping Tim back to the present. He automatically stiffens, expecting more of the League of Assassins. He can't remember much, but he guessed he was captured by the fact he was sitting in a green glowing water.

He was not, however, expecting a Yeti to walk in, reading a clipboard.

The Yeti looks up, bearing its teeth at Tim when he notices him awake. It takes a moment to realize the action is supposed to be a smile. "Great One's Honored Guest, I am so glad you have awakened. I am FrostBite, your doctor for the remainder of your recovery."

Okay. Ra's has Yetis at his disposal.

He was the only person that Tim knew as the "Great One." Usually, his most loyal operatives too, which means he was deep within Ra's territory.

FrostBrite pauses for a response, but when Tim remains silent, he holds up his board. "It seems to me that most of your wounds have healed. The only problem is that your spleen could not be salvaged due to the damage."

Tim fights to keep the despair off his face. He figured that was the case, seeing as Ras's had it in a jar, but he had hoped.

"...I understand this may be a difficult adjustment. You will always have to be careful when being ill. Even a simple cold could be disastrous." Frostbite steps close, taping one giant claw on the tub's edge. "The Great One has ordered we keep consistent Ecoplasm Baths at the ready for the remainder of your natural life."

Fuck. The Yeti is saying Ra will never let him leave again. It's a threat disguised as a offer of help.

Tim glares down at his hands. They lay within Lazarus' water, gently healing his small scars. This must be some of the purest Lazarus he's ever seen. It must be Ra's own special blend.

The only reason he is wasting it on Tim is that Ra's wants an heir from him. Or for him to become the Heir. He doesn't know, which makes him feel worse but he does know what lust looks like.

It's one that Ra's has aimed at him for too long.

He may as well get this over with. Learn as much as he can. Plan an escape. The best way to do all that is to simply ask.

"When is the wedding?"

Frostbite freezes. "I beg your pardon? Whos wedding?"

"Th Great One and mine" because the madman would never allow a bastard to inherit his empire.

"You and the Great One....are paramours?" Frostbite sounds awe. Shoot his medic doesn't know anything. The Yeti is likely low ranking.

Tim looks away, and the giant white creature jerks into action. "I apologize for not treating the Great One's beloved properly. I shall have servants bring up a meal while you soak. And the finest robe we have! Sweets and messages....offers of gold?....humans always like gold."

He waits until the Yeti leaves, mumbles of giving him the royal treatment echoing in his wake. Tim sighs, sinking into the water. He knows he is being watched as that's what he would do, so for now he needs to stay put and heal.

He's never going to get Bruce back if he acts too rashly without knowing where he is and what else Ra has under his control. Yetis were no easy feat to beat on his own. He like to avoid....a vampire or something too.

Half an hour later, FrostBite returns with the promised meal and change of clothes. Smaller Yetis help him dress in threads of the finest silks. They feel like heaven on his sensitive skin. Tim feels soft and warm all over, pampered beyond belief.

It's been so long since he just had a moment to rest.

He asks for a walk which he is only permitted after Frostbites clears him. It's while he is wandering that he realizes he is in some winter castle. Everywhere he looks, there is ice, snow, and yetis.

He notices all the guards and makes mental maps of possible weak spots. He wonders why he's not freezing despite only being in a thin silk robe. A form of magic?

A few yetis- servants he can tell by their mannerisms- bow as he wanders about. He can't tell where he is based on the sun or the environment. It's....somehow different.

"That's him?" A young female voice asks. He turns his head slightly to catch the speaker in his provisional vision. It's one of the smaller Yetis....he assumes she's a child? Hard to tell when she still towers over him. "The Great One's future spouse?"

"Yes, I heard King Frostbite, himself, tell the Head Butler"

"He's weak," another Yeti says with disapproval. He sounds male but young as well. Not even a teenager. "He does not even have a core."

"He is a human." A much older voice replies. She sounds like Tim's age based on vocal cords. "Humans are not meant to have cores. Despite this he is a formidable fighter. He has to be to have attracted the Great One's eye."

"Maybe not. I heard humans enjoy being cared for like children. They even call partners things like Mommy and Daddy."

"Why?" The boy Yeti sounds horrified.

"Apparently it's seen as attractive"

"That's disgusting."

Tim turns a corner cutting off the conversation as the Yetis snap to attention. They bow low at the waist as he walks by.

He nods at them, which seems to startle a lot of them. Not that he's surprised. The AL Ghuls likely treated them like decorations and never fully acknowledged them.

Tim barely hears the young boy gasp. "He's beautiful."

"That's likely why the Great One is so bestowed."

Tim sighs walking back to his room with a escape plan half formed.

Elsewhere, the rumor mill in the Ghost Zone is running over time as news of King Phantom's human husband-to-be is spread far and wide. Leaders of the Ghost Zone quickly prepare for a ball that will likely be called to celebrate the union.

They have gifts gathered, each wanting to gain favor with the King. The Far Frozen gets overwhelming requests to visit the future Consort, but seeing as King Phantom had to return to the human world, thus leaving his fiancé in their care, they reject all. They do not want the boy to be overwhelmed or caught unawares if he is not tried in any form of politics.

It would not allow him to become a threat to the King's authority's pawn.

This led to even more rumors starting.

By the time they reached John Constine- the only human who has any form of contact with the Realms- the word is that King Phantom's human was currently carrying their child, wanting to marry before the baby was born, and that he was running from a group of humans known as "The Bats."

He was as beautiful as the King Phantom was powerful- which meant he was utterly breathtaking for a human- and that King Phantom was currently in the human world hunting down those who threaten his family.

Across the dimension plane, Danny is blissfully unaware of the misunderstanding as he is busy filling out college scholarship applications. He has only one more year before he graduates, but he would like to go somewhere away from Amity Park.

The Wayne Scholarship is a long and lengthy process, but it will be worth it. A full ride with board and meals? Yes, the housing will be in Gotham but it's a small price to pay.

He wonders if his number one fan has awakened. Frostbite would have contacted him if his guest had escaped the coma.

Tim Drake had been asleep for nearly a week, only kept healthy due to Danny bathing him in his Protective Core ectoplasm and the Yeti's multi-species medical knowledge. As it were, Tim appeared to only be taking a small nap, none of the adverse effects of long slumber appearing on his thin body, but Danny was getting worried.

At this point, he didn't even care how Tim knew his secret. He just wanted him to be alright.

A flash of green light causes Danny to spring away from his laptop, body falling into a natural fighter's stance only to blink at the giant gift wrap present laying on his bed. Cautiously he inspects the gift finding it from Princess Dora.

"May your love lead the Realms into a wonderous future, and may your union bear many children." He reads the small note she had attracted to her gift "What children?"

Pulling open the gift, he stares at two sets of King robes decorated with rubies shaped into snowflakes. More miniature robes and a few booties surround the pair, obviously meant as a family gift.

Tuck to the side of the box is a long and deadly-looking sword. It's pitch black, with a scull as a handle. Dora had tired a scroll to its blade, where she had written My armies are ready to yield to you. You need only to swing this sword, and they shall come to your aid. The Bats will not harm your treasure.

What in the world?

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind part two

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to an end.

warnings: none besides being slightly unedited.

word count: 1.4k

4 months later 

Dearest Wynnie Lara,

I hope you are doing well, we miss you very dearly in the Night Court but understand you leaving after such harsh things were spoken to you. I wanted to invite you to Nyx’s first birthday celebration. He does miss you so much. (As do we).

After finding out what Azriel and the other two had said to you I almost blew up their homes with the help of my sisters. 

Elain misses you very much, even though she writes letters to you weekly, you and her seemed to help each other heal after everything happened to you both. She won't tell anybody where you have gone so I will be handing this letter to her in hopes it reaches you. 

We miss you so much, and I hate that the boys said those harsh things to you for no reason. You are not a bother, or suffocating, you light up every space you go into which is so refreshing, I do not want you to feel forced to come home (Nesta feels otherwise, she misses you so much she almost started a war with another court in search of you.) But we do want you to know you do have a home here. No matter what. I know Rhys feels devastated with how the situation turned out, even though it is partially his fault.  I want to make it clear how sorry we are for their actions and that we adore you. 

Lovingly, 

Feyre

I crumple the edges of the letter with tears streaming down my face, with a shaking breath I fold the letter gently and put it back into the envelope. I set it with the piles of letters Elain has sent to me on my coffee table. I wipe my face and head over to my rough looking door of the tree house that I am living in and latch it. This area of the Autumn Court has always been on the poorer side but it was home. Growing up with no family and moving around as a fairy was never safe, so before Amarantha’s reign I settled in this area of Autumn. 

Having not been to this home in two years it took a while to get it back into shape, cleaning and removing critters that have turned it into their home while I was gone. I have wind chimes and wards surrounding this home just like my other one, the difference here though is the Autumn wind is much more soothing for me then in any other court. It’s almost like my soul knows it's safe here. 

I have my wind playing soothing music with the small instruments placed around the open room. Candles lit and windows open for the utmost ambiance while I research different wind patterns.

I hear one of my chimes go off near the front door that catches my attention, I get up from the table and walk back to the door.  Frantic knocking is what I hear once I get to the door itself, I rip it open to see what is wrong. 

“Miss Wynnie!” with a sob, and I look down to see one of the kids I help take care of from the children’s shelter near my tree house. Little antlers poke through his red hair, and tears stream down his tanned face as he launches towards me. 

“Oatie what is the matter?” I say and crouch to his level. I put my hands on his shoulders to sooth him and look him in the eyes.

“Those mean guards are back at the shelter, they are demanding more money.” Oatie is a twelve year old boy who had to grow up quickly due to being an orphan partially under Beron’s rageful reign, but he was still a gentle soul. Things have started to get better slowly with the new High Lord, but it is a slow process when the court has so much hate built in. 

“Okay sweet boy, it’s going to be alright. Go curl up on the couch with a book and some tea and I will go take care of this okay?” I tell him with a soft voice. He nods and heads off that way. Once he is settled on the couch I fix my dress, and re-braid the two long braids under my bob and fly off the balcony.

When I arrive at the shelter there are two guards yelling at the volunteer on duty at the shelter. With a burst of wind I separate them from the worker, and land in front of them. I motion for the worker to go inside.

“What is the issue here?” I bark at them, their heated eyes turn to me.

“They owe us money for protection.” The one on the right says with a grunt.

“That’s your job. The High Lord literally pays you to protect the people. So that was the wrong answer, do me a favor and try again.” I say while rolling my eyes and shifting my weight to one hip. 

“You bitch.” One says and I let out a laugh with a clap of my hands. I know I probably shouldn’t egg them on but it’s so easy. As I am about to respond they both seem to stiffen and look behind me.

“Well that’s no way to speak to a lady.” I turn to face the new voice, which belongs to High Lord Eris, who recently has had his hair trimmed since the last time I saw him. 

“She is barely a lady, my lord.” One said with a snicker. I respond with a glare and a large gust of wind knocking them both over.

I turn to face Eris completely and give him a graceful curtsy grabbing the edges of my green dress. To which I receive a sucking of the teeth sound from him.

“Wynnie dear, stand up please. You don’t have to bow to me, we are old friends.” He says with a soft smile. The two guards seemed to have disappeared leaving the two of us alone. I straighten and glow a soft pink with a cheeky grin say,

“Yes, well, I have to show my respect My Lord.” He chuckles and makes a small lunge toward me, so I float backwards and he narrowly misses me. 

“You’ll have to be quicker than that to catch me sir.” He grunts a small breath and lunges towards me again. And I am suddenly reminded of when we were younger.

“Eris! Where are you?” I yell knowing he is hiding behind one of the trees with his hounds. 

“Got you!” I hear from behind me and feel my waist being pulled into someone's chest. I look up over my shoulder and see Eris with a wide grin. I pout at him. 

“That’s not fair.” I whine. “You know I am afraid of your pups, they think I am a big bird waiting to be hunted.”  He laughs in response. 

“I would never let them hurt you Wynnie Lara, I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said softly. “You are my only friend in this wretched court. I will burn it down to protect you.” 

“Eris that is sweet but, you are an heir would that not be counterproductive?” I ask teasingly but my skin glowing a bright warm orange with endearment. 

“Not for you Wynnie.” He says.

“I can’t stay in this area long, but I did want to invite you to dinner soon.”  He tells me when we both are sitting on the forest floor. Me on a rock with my wings glowing and him leaned up against it. My hands naturally find his hair and gently run my fingers through it. 

“I would love to.” I tell him, “I might visit the Night Court here soon.” I say with a whisper.

“Oh?” He asks me softly.

“Nyx is turning one and I miss the girls a little bit.” I responded.

“Yes, that's understandable. I still am beyond livid for how you were treated there.” He says back with a huff. And I laugh a little, “You and me both.” 

“I will have to send you with a gift, hmm?” He tells me. 

“That would be very kind of you, my lord.” And in response I get him standing up and pinching my sides. 

“Mercy! Mercy!” I say in between giggles. 

“Alright Wynn. I will send a letter for dinner when you return. Be safe and have a good night.” He tells me with a pat to the head and soft voice. 

a/n: soooooooooooo what do with think???

I am a sucker for soft Eris omggggg. Please if any questions please let me know!

I am trying the taglist I hope it works lmao

taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor

[starshipsofstarlord]

How To Weaken a Man

Summary - you were going to get what you wanted, Daryl however was going to have to wait. He was deserving of a taste of his own medicine, after him constantly being in charge, it was time for a change (3.3k)

Warnings - 18+ MDNI, smut, brat taming, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, teasing, daryl being a total boob man, hair pulling, spanking

daryl dixon + norman reedus works main masterlist

It was an obvious distraction, or at least Daryl thought; it was in fact life threatening for you to be wearing a low necked vest that accentuated two of the greatest curves of your body.

He was going to die. That much was clear.

The archer dryly licked his lips as he avoided studying your silhouette, knowing that if he aimed his eyes in your direction, he wouldn’t be able to focus on Rick’s plans to reinforce the walls of Alexandria to stop another swarm of walkers breaking through.

This was important! It was the same thing he kept reminding himself, as he listened to the chiding voices eliciting ideas, and he was consuming the words through his ears, until your own unmistakably broke in, causing the man to gulp.

He was weak, despite being one of the strongest survivors in the room, and your body was his kryptonite. Sure, it was a warm day, however he was mentally cursing your choice of attire.

Your decision of clothing was cruel, more so as you leant across the table, talking away as you watched as Daryl stared at the ground. The act made you smirk - you had clearly affected him, and whilst that hadn’t been your original intention, you were still sure as hell going to take it as a victory.

He had to look, he could never help himself and this time would be no different. The man was stuck in his ways, and whilst he was attempting to postpone caving to them, you knew his weaknesses far too well.

And you felt pride swell in your chest as your lover slowly drew his wolfish eyes in your direction, tracing the outline of your body with his intent pupils, the meeting was almost over, and he was aware that he would soon be met with his demise. And then his control would too be gone, vanquished to less than dust due to your vixen like ways.

But you wouldn’t be as kind as he anticipated, you were going to make him wait until he had turned into a completely feral man, whom would do anything to touch your flesh. It was a taste of his own medicine in which he would receive, and boy was it going to be sweet!

Blindly you plucked your bottom lip between your teeth, grazing it with the edges of the porcelain within your mouth as you maintained eye contact, for just a moment longer, until you returned your attention to Rick, brushing your tied up hair that had grown out a little longer than before across to your opposing shoulder, exposing your right collarbone.

You were a damn tease, Daryl thought, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t insisted that you had gotten your ass up and out of your house to attend this meeting. And then it clicked in his mind, this was your revenge.

He had practically dragged you here, and now he was the one suffering from the effect of his own actions. Perhaps he deserved it, he sure as hell knew that you had a tendency to be sly when it suited you, surviving had moulded you into a malleable creature who could adapt to her surroundings. And you were adapting into a distraction for him, he gruffly shuffled in his seat, adjusting his legs beneath one of the tables in the room to soothe his growing erection.

It needed to go away, sooner rather than later. The last thing he wanted was to be humiliated by his apocalyptic peers for being attracted to his damn wife. It’d be something he’d never hear the end of, and some of them such as Eugene, were annoying enough without picking fun at things that were out of his control.

And so he cast his eyes away once more, prioritising his line of sight upon the floor, and more importantly, out of your direction. “Okay.” He heard your voice speak out, and as he briefly glanced at you, he noticed how you were now stood upright, with your arms folded across your chest, pushing your breasts subtly together. “Me and Daryl will see what materials we can find, we’ll take a truck and see if we can salvage anything from nearby.”

“Sounds good.” Rick nodded at you, completely clueless to your underlining schemes, as both you and the archer had done the same previously when you were upholding yourselves in the prison. And that, now that Daryl remembered that past experience, was of a similar nature.

You had seemed completely innocent the first time you had suggested that you and Daryl trekked out to scavenge for building supplies, however that hadn’t been your only goal. Due to the ever growing population of survivors that had been allowed to thrive beyond the fences, it was difficult for you and the brooding man to ever get some alone time, so when you had seen an opportunity to, you took it.

It appeared to be brewing from the same source within this instance, considering that work within Alexandria was infinite, more so now since the walkers had effectively flocked through. There had been some makeshift barricades put in place for the time being, however there was need for it to be reinforced to the maximum security so that the parade of the dead didn’t force themselves through an encore.

He expected you to wait as the attendees of the meeting, however you left with the rest of the flock, leaving him to his lonesome as he then was in an empty room, with the exception of Rick who confusedly watched him. “Are you okay brother?” He enquired, a soft frown attuning to his features.

“Fine.” Daryl responded, thanking whatever force above that his problem had returned to its unaroused state. He clapped his palm on the table as he stood, nodding to his friend before he bid him a short goodbye in the words, “I’ve gotta catch up ter y/n/n.”

Rick was silent as he watched his friend leave the room, chasing after his wife which made the man smile. It was a strike of luck that they were both here, and that they had each other to rely on, even when it came down to something as simple as finding anything useful to reinforce the borders of the place that had become their entire group’s home.

The man however didn’t know that this was just a fraction of a drawn out game that the woman was playing, although Daryl could see right through you as you swayed your hips with every step that you took towards the gates, Daryl’s crossbow on your hip prompting the notion that the two of you weren’t going home before your trip and resolving your lust for revenge.

“Oh. You’re finally here.” You stated, practically undressing him with your eyes as you looked Daryl up and down, prior to shoving his weapon into his own hands, and picking up your own where it was laying in the trunk of the pickup.

“Yeah. I ‘m.” He responded, squinting as he looked down on your conniving form, untrusting of your avid bluntness towards him. After all, the only thing that he was guilty of was dragging your body down the mattress to ‘entice’ you to comply with your attendance of an important matter. “What’s wrong with ya?” Daryl asked, watching as you coyly cocked your head, an almost invisible smirk stringing itself on the corner of your lips.

“Nothin’. Now come on Dixon, I know a good place…” you lightly patted the side of the empty truck, swinging the drivers door open, not feigning any attention to the small furrow of his brows. “Get in, today you’re my passenger princess.”

Before Daryl had time to argue with your assumption of being the one behind the wheel, you had already slammed the door behind your figure, giving him no space to argue. Otherwise he was certain there’d be whispers among the Alexandrians if he were to haul you to the other side, as none would have the confidence to defend one Dixon against the other.

“Passeng’r princess my ass.” He mumbled as he trudged to around the front of the vehicle, making sure to slam the opposing door shut after he had seared himself. “Yer up to somethin’, and I dun know if I like it.” Daryl spoke to you, crossing his arms as he watched you turn the keys in the ignition, and without much wait, you were already steering out of the gates after they had been opened for your departure.

“You’ll like it, trust me.” You shot your husband a wink, seemingly knowing exactly the route of your journey. He silently sulked in the seat, kicking his legs slowly out as he decidedly chose to ignore you and focus his eye sight out the window. He was mildly ignoring you, and his behaviour only made you more eager to get him in the position that you wanted.

He said nothing, muting himself for the entire drive, with the exception of a grunt every time that you placed your hand on his thigh, which ended in him shrugging you off. You leant forwards, taking a risk and driving off road, which made the vehicle jut up and down, and with each disturbed movement, your chest rapidly rose and fell in a pattern of bounces.

That was what drew his curiosity, and he realised as soon as he noticed your breasts lifting out of the truck’s rocky accord, that this was all still your attempt of teasing him. His elbow rested against the bottom of the window on his side, as he brushed some of the hair that was falling in his face to the side.

“The hell ain’t you on the road?” He huffed, aware that your route of feminine prowess could cause a flat tire. As he glanced to the back seats however he noticed a spare shoved behind his chair, and so once again, you continued to be one step ahead of him.

“Told you I knew a good place, you should have more faith in me baby. It’s an old garage, we can strip the walls there,” or yourselves, you thought pointedly, slowing down the speed in which you were going as you grew closer to the coordinates that you had visited a couple times to bring home additional fixtures for his bike.

“Do have faith in yer, when ya ain’t focused on seducin’ me in the middle of nowhere.” Daryl knew that he wouldn’t be able to deny you for the entire time whilst you were alone. It was never his strong suit, and he could feel a primal pit in his stomach stirring as he imagined all of the ways that he would put you in your place and remind you that you weren’t as clever as you were convinced you were.

Most nights when the two of you had the chance for some alone time, he would have you writhing beneath his fingertips, physically drooling and being vocal in your need for more. “Seducing you?” You laughed, your mouth crooking as you contained a maleficent smile. “I hardly have to seduce you Dar.”

He felt him sinking into his seat as he grunted softly towards you, as he was all too aware that it was the truth. After all the hunts that he would return from, he would come home, and prove how much he had missed you, even if that meant awakening you from your slumber to lay some love on you.

“Whatev’r.” He replied, throwing open the door on his side when you had pulled over, and heading straight to the garage that was no doubt located to help lost travellers between towns. “Can’ blame me for findin’ ya attractive. But ya can blame me fer punishin’ ya later for this behaviour.” He threatened you, allowing you to catch up to him, before he undid the latch on the small garage, hoisting the metal door open.

He had his crossbow ready, in case there were any walkers lurking within the depths of your location of impure fantasies, noticing there being bikes tossed on their sides, numerous parts missing. “This where ya find all my parts?” He quietly questioned, as you held your own weapon next to him, eyes scanning every inch of the undisturbed atmosphere.

“Obviously.” You responded, going through the entire mass of the abandoned workplace, until the both of you were certain that there were no undead inhabiting the interior.

“We should’ get tha’ door,” Daryl gestured to the entrance that you had closed behind your entry, however you gripped his arm, taking a couple steps back until you were cornered by the benches that were decorated with askew tools. “Ya don’ think that’s a good idea, princess?”

“Not yet.” You confirmed, seating yourself up on the workbench, pushing some of the metal utensils out of the way as you lay your gun down flat on the cold side, eyeing Daryl as though he was your last meal. He looked obscurely at you, gulping as he walked between your legs, crossbow slung over his shoulder as his rough and expended hands played with the bottom of your tank top, his azure gaze now locked onto your chest.

The top of your bra was visible, the fabric of your shirt having heaved itself down as you pulled yourself atop of the unit to sit, as you swayed your legs mindlessly, brushing your boots upon the side of his legs. “And why’s that, huh?” He asked, all knowing of the reason, unfazed by the mud that was now being sketched along his trousers.

“Because I want you.” You answered him, eyes boring into his face as you blocked your vision for only a moment to bring your shirt over your head. “And I know you want me too.” His hands had crawled searingly up your sides, to your back where he unclasped your bra and tossed it onto the ground, leaving your breasts bare for him to take in.

Daryl could feel himself ignite into a state of arousal again, as he covered your chest with his palms, squeezing at the supple flesh. It had been all he tried to keep off his mind during the excruciating meeting, and now he was finally alone with you, everything he wanted right in front of his eyes.

“I always wan’ yer.” He replied, leaning forward to press his mouth against your own, circling your nipples with his thumbs, his brows shooting up as you wasted little to no time in pushing your tongue into his mouth. He released a groan, drifting his hands down to pinch at his thighs, but as he did so, he felt a sharp tug to the roots of his brunette locks.

You had just pulled his hair. “Well if you want me that bad Dixon, you’re going to do exactly as I say.” You demanded, your fingers still entangled in his hair as you pushed the man’s face down your sternum, his lips tracing every millimetre of your flesh until he reached your hardened buds, excitedly enveloping them within his mouth.

“I’ll do wha’ I wan-“ you had cut his argumentative rapture of dominance short as you once again pulled sternly at his roots, forcing a whine to escape the burly hunter. He was going to do what you wanted, and clearly your insurance of enforcing your husband was working.

“Well, what I see what you want is to make me your very happy wife.” You enticed him, holding your hands upon your partner’s shoulders to descend him to his knees in between your legs. The peripheral that you had was one that lived within your personal fantasies, and something that you had never revealed to Daryl. But it appeared that he was on board with your reversal of roles, as he pawed desperately at your jeans, and you aided him by unbuttoning them, the two of you working as a team to pull the worn denim down your legs.

“I do.” He bespoke, pressing hungry kisses along the inside of your thighs, his nose running along the damp cotton of your panties. “Want to make yer the happiest wife in the world.” Daryl slid your underwear to the side, revealing your already wet core to his glazed irises, as he hardly gave you a moment to order him around before he dove straight in, tongue first.

“Fuck, Dar.” You keened, running your hands down to have both of them gripping wantonly at his hair. “You’re so good at that.” You reassured him, pushing him between your legs further, your thighs squeezing either side of his head. He suctioned your clit between his lips, causing you to lean your back against the wall behind you, your head lightly hitting it too as you lived through the pleasure that ran through your veins.

You were growing closer to your release, however despite your body prompting you to chase it, your mind made you push Daryl away, and when he looked up at you, there was disdain written in his eyes. With shaky legs you managed to slide down from where you had been sat in your ecstasy, and pushed Daryl in your place. “It’s your turn now baby.”

He rubbed at the scratchy hair at his chin, accidentally spreading your wetness across the lower half of his face, as his chest rose and fell as he watched you until you were now on your knees. His hand ran through your hair, patiently waiting as you unbuckled his belt, and proceeded undressing his legs until all of him was on display, his hard cock bobbing on its own accord in your face. “Do-“

He had no time slot to give you commands, as you had already engulfed his cock within your hollowed cheeks, allowing the tip to hit the back of your throat. His hips followed your rhythm, chasing after the warm and suffocating pleasure that your mouth provided his length with, and as he gazed down at you, he felt proud. You of all the surviving population within the messed up world were his wife, and from before you had gotten married to the present, you always had the habit of surprising him.

Daryl knew that he could be a difficult man to put up with and understand at times, but you never needed an explanation to know what was running through his mind. He felt disappointed as you removed your lips from around his cock, however he had learnt previously from your attitude not to voice. Instead he was just going to do what he wanted, and as he watched you stand, in the midst of a second, he had you bent over the workbench, in a vulnerable position and at his famished mercy.

He clicked his tongue, as he leant over your form, one hand beneath you cupping your breast, as the other warningly stroked your ass. “As fun as tha’ was sunshine, I ain’t gonna let yer be a fuckin’ brat whenever ya please.” His voice was husky with his southern accent as he spoke dangerously in your ear, his cock pressed up against your backside, as you huffed frustratedly.

“I’m not a brat.” You rolled your eyes although he couldn’t see, however your entire body jumped in surprise as he clapped a hand firmly down on your ass, and your breathing increased. “I-“

Much like how you had been silencing Daryl’s defences, he had repeated your actions, exonerating a moan from your throat as he slid his cock through your walls, filling you up perfectly. Any confidence you had from previously having power over him had vanished, as it was all too clear that Daryl had gained back his control.

“Yeah, ya are. Bu’ you’re my brat.” Daryl grunted, finding satisfaction when he heard nothing in reply other than your moans and the sound of his name tumbling from your lips. A smirk found prize on his lips as a thought slunk into his mind, and his hand raised, tugging at your hair. “Now be a good girl and do as I say.”

[heavenlyvision]

Bare II

Word count: 12.8k

Pairing: Liu Kang x F!Reader

Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗ first !

A/N: Part 2 is finally here !! I am sorry it took so long. I lost power at home due to bad storms that came through on Christmas night and have been staying elsewhere, it’s really messed with my writing schedule :((( hopefully the power will be back on at home soon <33 Anywhos, enjoy this creation of my insanity !!!

Summary: Liu Kang pushes you on his want to train you in self-defence and you get to the bottom of why it’s so important to him. Later that night, he wakes you up from his heat… he seems to be having a really good dream.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst but like not really, grinding, cockwarming, p in v sex, light edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, light burns, menace!Liu Kang, minor mention of creepy stranger

When you wake up you’re still in Liu Kang’s bed, it’s warm and comfortable but he isn’t in it. Dragging yourself up, you sit in his bed and look around the room, which is also devoid of his presence. Your limbs feel heavy as you move, the ground is cold on your feet as you get out of his bed.

The sound of your bare feet hitting the floorboards is filling the quiet house and once you’ve reached the kitchen you can smell something good. There’s a plate of food and a cup of tea sitting on the counter, left for you, Liu Kang is nowhere to be seen but he seems to have made you breakfast and left you a note.

Looking at the note you can see that he’s… stupid. Big fire God is stupid. You skim it but essentially it has the vibes of “I have to go… we will talk about last night later.” Why are men dumb? You sigh and shake your head at the note, already exasperated with him, you wish he’d have woken you up to talk, how long would the conversation have taken.

All this note does is bring you unease, how hard would it have been to write something that doesn’t induce the fight or flight response in you? Seriously? All he had to write instead was, “Stellar sex, I am a busy fire God and have fire God shit to do but I am looking forward to seeing you later”…just something less ominous would have done wonders for you and your anxiety.

Now, you are grumpy, resulting in you eating your breakfast and drinking your tea, stewing in your annoyance. He is allowed to have doubts or whatever his note is meant to get across but leaving a weird note is, well… stupid. Briefly, you wonder what would happen if he came back and you were still here, his note said he intends on speaking with you later but that also feels like an aversion tactic.

To be fair, last night was more of a heat of the moment thing, you haven’t even considered what you would want from him. If he has no feelings for you then maybe it would be better to chalk it up to a mistake, you aren’t stupid, you like him… a lot and being a casual hook up is something you wouldn’t survive. Not from him, it would hurt too much but he doesn’t come across as having no feelings for you. He also doesn’t seem the type to do casual hook-ups.

Leaving without communicating with you properly is irritating, now you’re having to sit here and think of all the what ifs. It’s a waste of time and energy, especially since only one outcome is going to occur anyways. Still, you can’t help but sit here and wonder about what might happen, what he might want, if he would even honestly tell you what he wants.

The note is too vague and mostly conveys doubt in himself and his actions, it’s not explicitly stated but you know him well enough now to read between the lines. If he had felt completely guilt free, he would have stayed or woken you up to say goodbye. He had time to make breakfast, which means he had time to talk to you about this and chose not to.

Sighing again, you get up and clean the dishes he used for you, this day is going to be exhausting, you can already tell. You put your pants from last night back on and grab the rest of your things, ready to head back to your quarters. At the last second you remember the book he gifted you and run back to the room to grab it, it’s still on the nightstand where you left it.

Picking it up, you look it over and take notice of the copy he got. It’s the same published copy you had, which must have taken a bit to find because you got your copy some years ago now. He used some sticky notes for thoughts that wouldn’t fit in the spaces between the words, you did the same thing with yours. He’s properly read it; you can tell by the way his annotations are well thought out and eloquent. It’s such a kind gesture and it displays care for you in a way you’ve never experienced before.

A memory you have with your ex is when you’d asked him if he’d ever read your favourite book and he all but laughed in your face. You just wanted to be able to talk with him about it but obviously he never cared all that much for you. Relationships are hard and messy and now you are wondering what exactly you want. Grabbing the book and everything else you came with, you leave. Ready to walk back.

With the daylight, the trip through the Fire Temple is significantly easier to make. Nothing is obscured and you know exactly where you are, though you know you had poor visibility last night, you still can’t help but feel silly over getting lost and showing up at Liu Kang’s door the way you did.

You also can’t help but feel a little miffed by his blatant avoidance of you this morning, he gave you great sex, great orgasms, and the best gift you’ve ever received only for him to duck you in the morning. What the hell is that? You think the note wouldn’t even be that bad if he had said something less vague.

The walk back is filled with you angry mumbling to yourself, trying to understand his motivation, trying to understand how you’re feeling. Reading yourself and how you feel at any one point is hard, it’s why it took you so long to realise that you weren’t happy in the relationship with your ex. You knew something was wrong, you just took a bit to pinpoint it and by the time you had, it didn’t matter anymore.

Leaving was too difficult and you were comfortable, well, maybe not comfortable but it was familiar. The effort of moving out or asking him to move out was a hard thought and it left you feeling trapped. Clearly, he did not feel the same, having no trouble kicking you out when he was done with you.  

When you get back, the house is quiet and dark, the curtains are open but it’s still cloudy out after all the rain last night. It actually looks like you might get more. You decide to change out of the clothes you’re wearing into some fresh ones, finally wearing a pair of your own clean, dry underwear.

For a good chunk of the morning, you read the book gifted to you, reading over Liu Kang’s thoughts as you go. He has given well thought out insight into how the book has made him feel and why he thinks certain choices were made by the characters. A lot of the thoughts he had align with your own, he even picked up on a couple small things you hadn’t considered in all your read throughs.

It’s still one of the most thoughtful things someone has ever done for you and as you sit here reading how much thought he has put into his notes, you realise that being just his friend isn’t what you want, everything about him has captivated you. You aren’t sure what it is exactly you want from him but you don’t want things to go back to how they were before.

Before you lose your courage, you get up and leave to go looking for him. Waiting on him could take no time at all or too much time and you aren’t willing to wait right now. You aren’t exactly certain on what you’re going to say when you find him but if you don’t find him now, you might not ever tell him how you really feel.

Honesty is hard because it leaves you feeling exposed and open, honesty regarding how you feel is something you struggle with but you aren’t going to let your own hang ups get in the way. Not with him.  

The first drops of rain start to spit onto the ground below you and you consider going back to get an umbrella before ultimately deciding against it. Right now, finding Liu Kang is urgent, you only hope you find him fairly quickly. Especially if it’s about to rain now like it did last night.

The first stops you make are all his usual hang outs but he isn’t at any of them and you’re starting to get wet, the rain isn’t harsh like last night but you certainly aren’t dry. The last place you check is where you usually meet for tea but he isn’t here either, how is it that you seem to have the worst luck when it comes to finding him.

By the time you decide to give up your search and go home, you’re thoroughly soaked, your stomping footsteps have the water flicking back up at you. It’s chilly, not freezing, due to the fact it’s about midday or early afternoon, you can’t be certain on the exact time but either way the water has a cool bite to it without freezing you to the bone.

When you stomp your way into your house, Liu Kang is already there, seemingly about to leave after not finding you. He’s the tiniest bit damp but nowhere near as wet as you, looking to his right hand you see he’s holding an umbrella. The thought of a Fire God using an umbrella is funny to you.

He speaks first, “You need to stop going out in the rain.”

“In my defence… it hadn’t been raining like this when I left,” you shrug at him with your hands slightly raised.  

He retorts, “Was that not your last defence too?”

“Maybe,” you mumble, eyes averting his.

His tone is amused but also exasperated by you when he asks, “Why were you out there?”

“I was looking for you,” your eyes meet his again, “I wanted to talk with you.”

“I said I would talk with you later,” he seems confused.

You argue back, “No, you wrote a weird note that said you would talk with me later, which thanks for that by the way. Totally didn’t fill me with dread reading that first thing in the morning.”

“It was not my intention to worry you,” he steps closer as he speaks.

“Well… you did.” Your arms cross over your chest, still a bit cold. “How hard would it have been to wake me up and talk with me then.”

“I did not want to wake you.” He considers you for a moment, “You were sleeping so peacefully.”

You only scowl at him, it’s meant to be a kindness on his behalf but it felt cruel waking up to a weird letter from the man you slept with the night before. One that you have feelings for at that.

There’s quiet in the room for a moment, a quiet he breaks, “You should change out of your wet clothes.”

You hum at him and move across the room, slipping your shoes off first and leaving them at the front door. You’re only gone from the room for a minute, quickly changing out of your wet clothes into some dry ones, too many outfit changes for today.

Back in the living area, he’s moved to rest against the dining table, not sitting at it but waiting by it, for you. You stand in front of him and awkwardly shuffle your weight back and forth on both feet.

“What exactly about my note upset you?” He’s careful as he speaks, not wanting to upset you further.

“For starters, you left a note.” You look at him, brows raised a touch, “And secondly, your note displayed nothing but guilt or regret, it’s not a nice thing to read after a night that… after a night like that.” Your gaze avoids his again.

He takes in a breath, “My intention was not to make you feel bad…but I am not sure last night–”

“–I am gonna have to stop you right there, big guy.” You cut him off and talk before you’ve fully thought through exactly what you want to say, “I don’t want to hear about how you’ve talked yourself into thinking it was a bad idea. I liked it… I like you.” You’re internally screaming, you just admitted you liked him without thinking it through properly.

“You are making this difficult,” he sighs.

Your brows pinch at his statement, “I’m making what difficult?”

He gestures between the two of you, “Putting distance between us, this is not the most conventional situation, and I am not certain I am good for you.”

Of course, that is where his concerns lie, you tell him clearly, “I don’t want there to be distance between us.”

Initially, his voice is firm, eyes intense, “I do not have the luxury of being selfish…” And then he softens for you all at once, “…But you make me want to be.”

Your skin feels warm at his words, “You have a bad habit of saying things that make me incredibly happy.”

The beginnings of a smile are forming on his face, “Should I stop?”

“…No.”

He smiles full at your response; it’s tinged with a kind of smugness you would normally find unappealing but can’t help but enjoy on him.

You’re not going to let him know that though, “Don’t smile at me, I am still upset about your stupid note. Your pretty words haven’t changed that.”

“My note was… not well thought out. I apologise,” he seems sheepish, his apology genuine.

Keeping a straight face, you reply, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I think so too,” his smile is so tender as he looks at you.

The way he’s looking at you makes you break, your mostly faux annoyance dropping from your face. You step closer and wrap your arms around him, hugging him. The action confuses him a bit, or at the very least catches him off guard. It takes him a second, but he hugs you back, pulling you closer to him and holding you firmly.

He’s warm and he smells nice, and you could stay here indefinitely, “Just to be clear, you like me too, right?” You feel embarrassed asking him, but you want clarity.

He pulls you back to look at you, both his hands reach up and hold either side of your face, his hands are gentle with you, “So much.”

The smile that breaks out across your face is large, beaming up at him. His eyes are bright, dazzled by your happiness. He leans down and kisses your cheek; you turn your face to the side slightly so you can kiss him on his lips. It’s quick, a small peck but he uses his hands on your face to adjust you, he leans down and takes your lips in his properly.

His kiss is full, heady. He moves his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your arms move up to loop around his neck. The hands on your hips wander slightly, moving to your back, the back of your head before moving back down to your hips. He’s overwhelming you completely, his touch is everywhere, his lips are soft but firm, demanding in the way he kisses you.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted, he’s pulled you up and he sits you on your dining table, your legs open for him to stand between. His lips go from yours to the side of your face, pressing kisses to your cheek. He trails them down to your neck; his mouth is hot, and his kisses are wet. He lightly sucks at your neck, nipping you every now and again. He’s being careful not to leave any marks behind, but he very clearly wants to.

The gasps and small noises that he pulls from you can’t be helped, you’re sensitive, especially to his touch. He trails his kisses back up the length of your neck, ending right beside your ear. His breath against you makes you shiver and hold back a whine.

“You are such a reactive little thing,” he mumbles against your ear and he’s right; you are but you could’ve sworn you weren’t. It’s just him.

Fighting back another shiver, you go to reply to him, but he breathes on your ear and what would have been the beginnings of your sentence cut off into a small whimper. When he pulls back, he has a very pleased look on his face. You’re scowling back at him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

One of his hands reach up and grasp the side of your face, he angles you up slightly before leaning down and planting a full kiss on your lips. One you accept and return, despite your annoyance with him.

He moves back and hums, “As much as I would love to stay here and play with you, I have to go.”

“Cruel.” You comment, pouting at him.

He has a light smile on his lips, the rest of his features easy as he looks at you, “I will see you tomorrow, I’ll come get you.”

You can’t help but be sceptical of him, his tone is hiding something, “For what?”

“I am going to begin teaching you self-defence,” his expression holds steady, he’s not asking anymore. He’s being polite but his tone has an underlying dominance to it, not willing to argue with you on this.

So, you sigh at him, displaying that you’re still not completely on board, “Fine.”

“You will do great,” his hand holds onto yours, gripping it once in encouragement.

The concerns you have don’t have anything to do with how you might do performance wise, it’s more that you don’t really see it necessary and would rather avoid a fight it you could. Like you’ve told him previously, he keeps you separate from everything for the most part, so you don’t really understand why he wants this of you so badly.

The only reason you’ve continued to be so difficult about this is because it feels like he’s keeping something important from you and you’ve been trying to push it out of him. But as you’ve just witnessed, he is not entertaining conversation regarding this anymore. Not like that will stop you though, you just have to find a better opening.

“I am not worried about that,” your own hand grasps his once in response.

He knows what you mean, he’s been aware of the way you’ve been feeling him out every time the topic of ‘training’ comes up. He isn’t going to divulge anything though, instead he smiles politely at you and kisses you again. For the final time before he departs, his absence already felt the minute he’s out the door.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

In the morning, Liu Kang keeps his promise. Which is unfortunate for you, it’s early morning and quite frankly, it’s too early for you when he’s knocking on your door. You don’t even want to get up and let him in, but you do. Which is quite the effort for you, but you manage and potter over to the front door, pulling it open to reveal him in all his glory. He looks good, he looks ready for the day… you do not.

His eyes are alight with mirth when he sees the state you’re in, still in your pyjamas, completely unkempt and unready for the day, “You look lovely,” he comments.

You groan at him, “It’s too early.”

“It is early, I can make some tea for you?” He’s trying to butter you up, since you’ve finally caved into what he wants.

You step to the side so he can enter, “I would like that.”

He moves closer to you, leaning down to kiss your cheek before brushing past your frame. He’s familiar with your kitchen and puts the kettle on, “You can get changed, it will probably be done then.”

“I will be back,” you smile at him, having him in your kitchen making tea for you makes your chest bloom with happiness.

Your footsteps can be heard shuffling back down the hall towards your room, Liu Kang can be heard opening cupboards in the kitchen. The clinking of mugs can also be heard as he grabs a couple of them for the pair of you.

In your room, you move over to your set of drawers, considering what would be most comfortable for today. You assume he’s going to have you moving around quite a bit, so you’ll have to wear something light and easy to move in. The safest bet is a pair of pants and a simple shirt, basic but should get the job done.

Once you’ve changed, you walk back to the kitchen where Liu Kang is, he’s sat at your dining table waiting for you. A cup of tea sitting across from him, for you.

You sit down in front of him, “Thank you for the tea.”

“You are more than welcome,” he answers, watching you as you take your first sip.

It’s warm and made exactly how you like it; he always makes it perfectly for you. A man of many talents. The tea soothes you, making you feel better about starting the day so early.

Your words are mostly spoken into your cup, “You better not make this a habit, I am not a morning person.”

He hums at you, “I make no promises.”

Your eyes squint at him over the rim of your mug, annoyed at the possibility of him waking you up this early regularly. He just smiles graciously back at you.

After tea, he washes up your mugs, even though you protest. Then he’s leading you out of your house and to a quiet area of the temple you have never been. It’s secluded but open, the perfect area to have tea. Not to Liu Kang though, to him it’s the perfect area to teach you self-defence.

You haven’t told him, but you actually know self-defence to a certain extent. You were single and living by yourself in the city for some time, so you had taken up some classes on it. It went fine, you aren’t skilled or anything, it’s just the basics in case you get assaulted or mugged. You know enough for if you need to get someone off you long enough to get away.

Your experience in the classes is part of the reason why you didn’t want to do this in the first place, the teacher was sketchy. He never did anything to you, but he enjoyed teaching that class a little too much and his hands lingered for just a little too long sometimes. You don’t know if it was malicious or not, but you were uncomfortable enough to never go back and not enrol in any new classes.

The idea of doing this with a stranger was a hard no but having it be Liu Kang makes it easier, you’d still rather not do it but that’s more because he’s keeping something from you. Something you will find out today, he will be answering your questions because you aren’t going to keep doing this for no reason. And you know he has a reason; he isn’t doing this just for kicks.

“Are you listening?” He asks you suddenly.

Was he talking? “Yes?”

“What did I just say?” He looks at you pointedly, waiting for your wrong answer.

You look off to the side, trying to think hard about what he may have been saying, “…Something about how… this is important, and you want me to take it seriously?” you try, your face cringing as you finish your sentence.

He looks to you and sighs, “Essentially, yes.”

A proud smile breaks out across your face, “See? I was paying attention,” you tell him, nodding your head.

One of his brows raise at you slightly, he knows you didn’t hear a thing he was saying before. He comes up to you, both his hands reach up and hold your face between his hands, his eyes looking into your own intensely. “This is important, focus. Please?”

“I will… sorry,” you feel bad, his eyes are pleading with you to take this seriously, so you will.

He leans down and kisses your lips softly, “Thank you.”

You hum at him in acknowledgement, momentarily distracted by his kiss, wanting more of him.

“I just want you to know some self-defence, it will be basic, and I will help you,” he assures you.

You aren’t worried though, “Sounds good.”

He moves behind you, “Okay, I am going to grab you from behind, do what you think you should do and then I will show you the correct way to free yourself.”

“I am ready, just go for it,” you tell him, he’s obviously a bit nervous, he doesn’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable.

His arms wrap around you, under your arms, normally you would try and slide down between his arms to get away but his hold under yours means you won’t get very far. Instead, you lean all the way down and pull his ankle forward, using your weight and his loss of balance to push him back. He goes down and you go with him. His hold on you lessens and you use the opportunity to get yourself free and stand back up, you’re looking down at him now.

He’s on the floor looking up to you, his eyes examining your own, “You have done this before.”

“I never said I hadn’t,” You reply, he squints at you, and you give him your hand to help him up, which he takes.

When he’s on his feet again he asks you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why haven’t you told me why it’s so important I know self-defence?” You counter.

He sighs at you, “I want to know you can take care of yourself.”

“Yes but it’s one thing to be able to care of yourself and another to learn self-defence in case of bodily harm,” you emphasise, “This came out of left field, Liu and you know it. Something changed for you, and I want to know what it was.”

“My feelings for you changed, I want you near me, always. I want to be with you, to care for you, always… but I can’t be.” He’s frowning slightly.

You look at him dubiously, “And so your solution was teaching me how to defend myself in an attack?”

“No.” He answers quickly, “My solution is bringing you with me.”

“What?”

“The champions, will be gathered soon and I will be spending a lot of time at the academy… it’s selfish of me but I would like you to come with me, I would like to have you beside me and I would feel better about that if you could defend yourself.” He’s still frowning, clearly unimpressed with his own wants.

“I will go with you anywhere,” you tell him because you would, you would go anywhere, as long as he is beside you.

He reaches for you, both his hands resting on either of your shoulders, his expression charmed by you and your words, “I would like that.”

You smile tenderly at him, “You realise you’ve been kind of silly, keeping this from me?”

“Maybe but how long did you keep your feelings for me to yourself?” He retorts.

“Not the same,” you huff at him, “And you did the same thing,” you point out.

He hums at you, a hand lifting off your shoulder to hold the side of your face, gently cradling it, “I will fix it now then, I like you and would like you to stay by my side.”

“I suppose I will come with you,” you’re pretending to be apathetic, but his words make you so happy.

His eyes lift with his smile, “I need to know the extent of your self-defence training.”

“I know only the basics; I know how to evade an attacker and get myself free of a hold. I don’t know much else.”

“It is more than I thought,” he’s smiling brightly at you.

“What?” You are confused as to why he is so happy right now.

“It means I can teach you offensive attacks,” he informs.

You frown at him, “If I am going to be with you, do I really need to know how to attack someone?”

“It would make me feel better,” he replies, his thumb strokes your cheek.

Your tone is serious as you address him, “Liu, I don’t want to have to attack someone, I hope you know that.”

“I know and hopefully, you won’t but I’d like to know you could.” His expression is serious and so is his tone.

“You’re pushy,” you complain.

The side of his lips quirk up in a smile, “Only because I care.”

“You will not be teaching me any attacks today.” He opens his mouth to protest but you hold a finger up, “No, I have to think about it, attacking someone is different from defending yourself.” You’re looking at him firmly.

You aren’t one of his champions, you are not a fighter. You learnt self-defence out of concern for your own safety and well-being, learning to attack someone is something else entirely and you will have to think on whether or not you want to learn something like that.

“I would like you to consider it, but I understand,” he says before pulling you to him, holding you firmly. You can’t tell if he wants to comfort you or himself.

You sigh against him, “I will show you all I do know today, though.”

“I would like that,” he speaks into the top of your head.

So, you show him all you know. You spend a good amount of time showing him the different kinds of self-defence moves you know, and he helps you, teaching you better ways to do things or correcting your form. It is informative and you’re comfortable with him, his hands are warm, and they guide you.

His touch is innocent, his only intent is helping you show him what you know. He has no ulterior motives, and you realise that the teacher you had was definitely just creepy because this man you’ve slept with is holding you with the innocence of a man who has never seen you naked and has no desire to, his only desire is teaching you and seeing what you’re capable of.

“What is wrong?” Liu Kang asks.

Your face has betrayed your silent moment of realisation, a deep frown set in your eyebrows that you hadn’t noticed, “It’s nothing.” You smile at him, dropping the frown from your face.

He takes you in for a moment, determining if he should push you on this but lets it go, the both of you picking up where you left off. It isn’t until late morning, almost midday that you both stop.

“You know significantly more than I thought you would,” he says.

Looking to him, you reply, “I told you; I only know the basics.”

He makes a sound of amusement, “You know a bit more than the basics.”

You’re a tad shocked, “I do?”

“You do.” He confirms.

“How odd,” you comment.

“Come on, let’s walk back,” he grabs your hand and leads you back. The walk is quiet, and you enjoy the warmth of his large hand for most of it.

Beside you, he squeezes the hand he’s holding to get your attention, “Are you okay, with everything?”

“Yeah, I am okay.” You assure him.

He isn’t sure and tries to offer you an out, “I am being selfish by wanting you with me, you do not have to come.”

“I meant what I said, I would go anywhere with you,” you smile at him and lean into his side.

He hums from beside you, “Good.”

₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

He doesn’t stay long with you; he has to leave for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, but he said he would visit you later in the night if it isn’t too late. You had told him to come by even if it is late, but you don’t know if he will.

The tail end of the day is spent doing whatever you can, mostly though, you read the book Liu Kang gifted you. The notes he left are like reading his mind, they’re extensive and you’re wondering what you could do in return. Something kind that he’d like, something he can appreciate as much as you appreciate the book, but you don’t know what exactly that would be.

Looking to the clock on the wall, you can see the time has slipped by quickly, closer to midnight now. You peel yourself from your spot on the couch and move to lock the door before deciding against it, hoping Liu will stop by and let himself in.

Instead, you potter down the hall and slip into your bed, reflecting on things, head full of thoughts. The day had taken more out of you than you expected it to, you’re still a little stunned that you know self-defence well enough to impress Liu, though he didn’t think you knew any sort of defence, so his surprise is warranted.

You suppose you took those classes fairly regularly for a while and you enjoyed learning, so it shouldn’t shock you completely that you know it well. It’s a damn shame about that teacher though, you really hope he isn’t still teaching.

Thinking about that city fills you with a sense of melancholy, so many bad memories you left behind but also some good things too. You think, you’ll want to go back soon, to see the few friends you had there, maybe go back to that café with Liu.

The plushness of your bed is calling you, and you find yourself sinking back further into it, adjusting yourself so you’re completely content. The comfort of the bed has your eyes drooping, dozing off and drifting into a quiet slumber. Your dreams are empty, thoughts clear for once and you feel warm, comforted. It’s peaceful and you don’t remember the last time you’ve had such a tranquil sleep.

But then the warmth has you getting hot, body temperature rising uncomfortably. You can’t move and eventually your body wakes you up, startling yourself slightly. When you open your eyes, everything is dark and your mind is hazy from the sleep but with what little consciousness you do have, you realise what the cause of the heat was. Liu has crawled into bed behind you and pulled your body to his, his arms keeping you close but whatever he’s dreaming about has his powers a bit out of whack. You wonder how much time has passed and how long he’s been in bed next to you.

His skin is burning up and it’s unfortunately what woke you up, he was unintentionally overheating you while you both slept. Shuffling, you turn around in his hold and put a hand on his face, he’s very hot. He unconsciously pulls you closer to him, a hand wanders down to your hip and pulls you to him. Your front collides with his and, oh? You can see now why he’s burning up; his cock is solid against you.

A sigh leaves his mouth from slightly above you, his cock grinding into you lazily. The hand you have on his cheek quickly taps at his face to wake him; you’re surprised by his unconscious desperation, and you briefly wonder what he is dreaming about.

He wakes up at your touch on his face, his eyes bleary as he looks down to you, he hums in question at you; wordlessly asking why you woke him up.

“Uhm, you…” The words trail off, you can’t seem to find out how to phrase what you want to tell him and now your sleepy brain is needy for him.

Liu grunts at you, fully aware of his own situation now that he’s awake, “Did I wake you?” His words are mumbled, still half asleep.

Your brain is a few steps behind your mouth and your response is to mutter out, “You are hot.”

His eyes close again but his mouth rises into a lazy smile, “You think so?”

You take a second to think of your words first this time, “I mean, yes but you were literally hot, your heat woke me up.”

“You think I am hot,” he teases you, voice deep with sleep.

Sighing you ask him bluntly, “What were you dreaming of?”

One of his eyes open to look down at you, eyebrow raised, “Guess.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, you don’t like guessing games, “You sure you can’t just tell me?”

He doesn’t reply, his smile is sly.

He’s the one who was so worked up he almost burnt you in your sleep, “Are you sure you’re in a position to tease?” You enquire.

“And what do you mean by that?” You’ve caught his attention now.

“I mean, you are the needy one right now,” you observe.

“Hmmm, I may be needy,” He mocks your usage of the word, “but I will make you desperate,” his hand pulls your thigh over his hip, his hard cock pressing directly into your core; it makes you gasp. “Want me to show you what I was dreaming of?”

You fight the urge to grind yourself against his dick, not wanting to prove him right. You want to show that he is needier than you, at least tonight but with the way he holds your cunt firmly to his cock without so much as moving an inch, you think you might lose this battle. He’s so hard against you and you’re itching for him to move, to give you a fraction of relief but he’s only holding you, nothing more.

His gaze is unbothered, clearly, awake Liu Kang has far more control than asleep Liu Kang, “Answer me.”

You can feel yourself growing wetter the longer he holds you to him, you’re fighting against yourself. The urge to take what you need growing, but you doubt you would even get close to succeeding.

“Love your facial expression, do you know how desperate you already look for me?”

You look away and pout, “It’s not intentional…”

A finger hooks under your chin and makes your gaze meet his again, “It never is,” his tone is amused, “You wear all your thoughts on your face,” he comments.

“I want to know,” you answer his question from before, his brow raises and you clarify, “I want to know what you were dreaming about.”

“Are you sure?” He’s straight faced as he asks.

“Always.”

Suddenly, he rolls over and takes you with him, he sits you on his lap. You’re sitting on his cock and you’re trying so hard not to grind down into him, though you really would love nothing more than making him cum in his pants for you. He rips your underwear and sleep shorts off, the display of strength astounding to you. Instead of dropping them to the floor like a normal person though, he burns them, he burns your underwear and shorts to a crisp in front of you.

You’re shocked, “Wh– What the hell?”

“Next time, keep your bottom half bare,” he shrugs.

“Liu,” you’re still shocked, he might be a little bit more needier than he’s letting on.

“Yes?”

Your expression is stunned, “You could’ve just put them on the floor.”

“I could have, yes.” He confirms. “Can I stuff you full now? Or do you need another moment to scold me?”

You’re at a loss for words, torn between scolding him and wanting to be full of him. His face is unbothered, but his eyes are knowing, he knows what you will pick, and you really wish you were more spiteful, to teach him a lesson, but you want him inside you.

“Hmmm, I think…” his fingers slip to your pussy, sliding through your folds and spreading your slick all over yourself, “…You need me to fill you up right now,” his fingers are coated in your wetness when he removes them, he shows them to you before pushing them into your mouth.

Your lips wrap around his fingers and suck, cleaning them of yourself. Liu grunts at the feeling of your tongue licking at them, his eyes carefully watching the way your lips are engulfing his large fingers. His gaze is far away as he watches the way he pulls them out of your mouth, obsessing over your mouth, over your lips.

His focus comes back, and he frowns, his hands pull your shirt up and off you quickly; the action surprises you. Gathering yourself, you say, “Do not burn it!”

The expression he wears is amused and for a moment he looks like he’s considering burning it in front of you, just to see your reaction. He ultimately decides against it and chucks it on the floor, something he could have done to your shorts and underwear.

“Pleased?” He asks, raising a brow at you.

“As much as I can be after you’ve…” your retort trails off because he has completely ignored you, pulling his cock out of his pants as you were speaking.

And as you look at his big dick, you’re struck, completely wordless and salivating as you look at it and the way his hand grips himself. His thumb rubs over the tip of his cock, he must’ve been having one hell of a dream because he is incredibly hard and slick. His own precum dribbling from the head of his cock in thick globs, his thumb spreads it all over himself, hand dragging it down over his length.

His cock is shiny and coated in his own mess, you’re practically drooling, your cunt throbbing with your overwhelming need for him, “Liu,” your voice is breathy as you call out his name and it makes his cock jump in his hand.

Your hand reaches out to replace his own, holding him firmly but gently, you stroke up and down his length. Your movements spread more of his precum over his large cock, your thumb rubs at his tip, smearing it all over. His breaths are picking up, his hips twitching, holding back from fucking into your hand. His eyes are shut, savouring the feeling of your softer and smaller hand on him.

“Put. It. In,” he hisses out between clenched teeth, “Or I will.”

You hesitate, finding it an opportune time to tease him, “Why? Are you getting needy?” Your voice singsongs to him, full of mirth.

His eyes flick back open to look at you, his gaze dark and hungry and you feel like maybe, you did not have the upper hand you thought you had. Now, you think, he was maybe indulging you. His finger moves to your core, spreading your slick all over yourself again.

He avoids your clit and lightly pushes the tip of a finger into your pussy hole, only to drag it out and play with your cunt by smearing your arousal all over yourself. The action has your hand pulling back from his cock, grabbing at his wrist, holding onto him. He is working you up purposefully, not giving you any real pleasure. And it really does feel like a punishment because you already wanted him.

You go to ask him for more, “Can you–”

“–Shhh,” he cuts you off, not giving you the chance to request more from him, “You think I am needier than you?”

You don’t answer but your lack of a response is still a response.

“Hmmm, I will remind you of how fun you are to play with, how desperate you get for me,” his fingers still slide through your slick cunt. “How easy it is to have you cumming for me.”

Your pussy clenches down on emptiness, wanting so bad to be full of him. Wanting him to stop teasing you and force his cock inside your very wet cunt but you made a miss step, mistaking his directions for a moment of weakness. And while you were right about his need, he’s certainly not going to give up the control that easily.

God, you just need him to stop being so cruel, his cock is thick and heavy and slick, oozing precum still, but he’s not willing to give you the satisfaction, not now, not after your taunt.

“Liu, please– I… want you,” his fingers still avoid your clit, only really making a mess and not giving you any satisfactory pleasure, you feel like you might shed a tear.

He hums in thought at you, his gaze on your cunt and his fingers, “You want me?”

As you go to answer, his fingers slip over your clit, rubbing tight circles into it very suddenly. Your body collapses forward, hands coming out and landing on his chest to hold yourself up. He chuckles at your reaction, at the way you’re already borderline shaking on top of him. His fingers are relentless, and he was right because you’re already right on the edge and just as you think he might push you off it, he pulls his hand back. It lands on your hip, fingers wet and sticky from your cunt.

They drum against your skin, “You were saying?”

You glare at him, your voice shakes, “That was mean.”

He only smiles politely at you, his expression easy, unbothered by seemingly, everything. He’s waiting for you to speak, and you know exactly what he wants to hear but you only purse your lips and stare at him.

He tuts in response to your defiance, “Got to ask for the things you want, love.”

You pout, “I want you.”

“I am right here,” he retorts, the hand on your hip slides up the side of your body, landing on your tit.

His free hand comes up and grabs at your other tit, he fondles your chest, his hold firm. The way he’s groping you is driving you up a wall and his cock jumps against his abdomen at the way you whine for him. His index and middle fingers pinch your nipples between them as he grabs at you and another pitiful whine comes from you. He releases a mix between a sigh and groan at the sound, obviously struggling with his desire for you.

Your eyes are big and pitiful when you look to his, “Liu, please, I want you inside–”

“–Not what I want to hear,” he cuts you off, eyes stern as he looks at you.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your neck, your hands move from his chest to hold onto his shoulders, and you’re surprised at how hot he has gotten again. His body temperature increasing with the way he’s restraining himself; his mouth sucks a mark into your neck and his tongue is hot as it licks at your skin.

His hands grip your hips and pull you closer to him again, his mouth sucking marks into your neck, your chest. He’s working his way down, leaving hot and wet marks against your skin everywhere his lips go. Once he’s reached your breasts, he takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking at it, the warmth of his mouth makes you twitch on top of him, a gasped whine exiting your lungs at his ministrations.

He pulls back but bites at your nipple lightly as he does, it makes you jump and gasp, “Liu, please…” He makes a noncommittal noise, still not hearing what he wants from you.

The grip he has on your hips moves to your thighs, he’s grabbing at your skin, enjoying the softness of your thighs, his hands are hot on your delicate skin, and you squirm in his lap. His gaze locks onto your thighs, and you think you know what he wants, probably wants to leave marks on them.

After he gets an eyeful, his eyes look to your cunt, your slick dripping down your thighs with how little he’s given you. So horny for him and he’s done nothing but edge you once and fondle you. One of his hands slips from your thigh to your pussy, fingers immediately massaging your clit, you’re so worked up that you moan at the slight touch. His other hand grips harshly at your thigh, grounding himself.

“You are so wet,” he observes, his fingers still rubbing your clit, “Why don’t you end your suffering and tell me what I want to hear?”

Your response isn’t much of a response at all, only a small broken whimper passing your lips. The pathetic sound has Liu’s abs tightening, his cock twitching, the heat he’s radiating increasing, obviously he’s torturing himself at the moment. He looks delicious and as much as you’d love to see how much it’d take to break him; you don’t think you would survive it.

“I need you, please,” you break for him, eyes pleading, wet and almost crying, so close to finishing and wanting him to let you. He doesn’t reply though, and it worries you, so you beg, “please, Liu –nngh– need you to– I–” You’re incoherent and your voice is whiney but when you look into his eyes, fuck. He looks… feral.

His hand speeds up for you, his grip on your thigh loosens just the smallest amount, enough so you can grind down onto him a bit. You’re leaking down his hand, down his wrist, your nails dig into his shoulders and right as you’re about to cum again, he pulls his hand away… again.

The sound you release is a borderline sob, your pussy is throbbing with need, and you’re so confused as to why he didn’t let you cum. Your eyes fill with unshed tears as you look at him, your voice is small when you ask, “Why?”

He wears a large smile on his face, eyes still feral but he seems to have found a new kind of resolve, “Something wrong?”

You’re speechless, are you still being punished? Why didn’t he let you cum, did you not give in to him? “What did I do wrong?” Your brows are pulled up, worried.

“Nothing, you have been perfect,” he smiles assuredly at you, but his expression has an underlying wicked hunger. He taps your thigh, so you hold yourself up, “I’m going to stuff you full now,” he informs you and at his words you hold yourself up for him.

You don’t want to get your hopes up, now feeling like his show of mercy will come with conditions but you are really hoping he will fill your cunt. He grips his cock in his hand, pulling you closer to him, when you’re in reach, he rubs the messy tip of himself through your folds. The pair of you already a mess in your own rights, the action mixing the two together.

“Take the tip,” he directs, voice firm, warning you to only take the tip of him.

“Yessir,” you murmur in response as a joke, but his dick twitches the smallest bit in his hold.

For your own sanity, you don’t tease him for it, fearing you may not survive anymore edging. You do as you’re told, lowering yourself onto his cock and taking only the tip of him, with how wet you both are, it’s an easy fit. You take his tip well, but you are slightly concerned with taking the rest of him; right now, you think, if he slammed up into you all at once, you’d cum on his dick alone.

Your thighs are burning slightly at how you’re having to hold yourself up, trying not to take anymore of him. He’s breathing heavily, his skin getting hotter again, his hands move to your thighs and grip them, pulling at the supple flesh. Your pussy is pulsing around the tip of him and he’s doing everything he can to hold back, having a specific plan for how he wants to fuck you tonight and doesn’t want to ruin it by losing control here.

His thumb slips to your clit and rubs into it, flicking at it, it makes you moan and has you itching to sit down on him. Wanting to feel completely stuffed full, “Liu, I want –nghh– I want all of you.”

“That’s too bad because I want you to do as I say,” he replies harshly, voice hissed between his clenched teeth. His commanding voice and the attention he’s giving your clit makes you clench down on him, he continues talking, “I want you to cum, that’s what I want.”

Something about him tonight is driving you crazy and you were already so close to cumming before he spoke but now, after hearing him tell you what he wants, you’re a split second away from cumming. The final straw is when you look down to where you’re taking just the tip of him, your own arousal sliding down the sides of his cock, the mess is obscene, and it makes you cry out.

Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders again, needing the leverage as you cum on him. The feeling of your walls fluttering on the head of his cock makes him groan, loudly. His head falls back on the headboard and his eyes close, needing a moment to recover before making his next move.

The breaths you release are huffed; he’s finally let you cum and it makes your previously unshed tears slip down your cheeks. The relief you feel is euphoric, your head dizzy with how good it felt. He only edged you twice and you just about lost your mind, if he ever tries to do that properly, he might kill you. Or drive you actually insane.

He opens his eyes to look at you, “Crying over the tip of my cock?” His tone is cocky, knowing he’s pulling you apart so well.

“No,” you lie, a hand moving off him to wipe at your cheeks but one of his own hands stop you, grabbing your wrist.

“Leave it, you look cute, crying over my dick,” he muses aloud to you.

You look at him sceptically but don’t wipe your face all the same, letting him have his way. When he’s sure you won’t wipe your face, he drops your hand.

“Sit down,” he says, “Take it all, for me.”

You feel yourself flutter with excitement, looking forward to finally being full of him. You slide down his length, taking more of him, slowly as you do. The stretch of him is delicious and you think, even if it hurt, you wouldn’t stop, your need for him outweighing any pain. You want him in you, want his pelvis grinding into your clit, need, you need his pelvis grinding into your clit.

The both of you are so slick and sticky the sounds can already be heard in the room, a soft squelching as your cunt sinks down on him. His hands hold your hips, helping guide you down onto him fully, you’re taking your time, wanting to be careful. Your hands move to his pecs, open palms splayed on his chest, there’s heat radiating from him, hotter now than when he almost overheated you in your sleep.

“You’re –nngh– really h–hot, Liu,” you tell him, concerned by it.

He smiles at you suggestively, and if you weren’t still trying to take all of his cock, you would roll your eyes at him. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, knowing you are worrying for him and his wellbeing, even with his cock a few inches in you.

He’s getting impatient at how long it’s taking you to get all of him inside you, his frustration reaching a head. Instead, he takes control and shoves you down on him, filling you all at once, the shock of it, of being so full suddenly, the slap of his pelvis against your clit, it makes you cum on him very suddenly. Small whimpers falling from your lips, your hips unconsciously keep grinding into him, riding out the high. Your cunt clenching down on him, hard, with your orgasm.

A guttural groan comes from Liu, you can feel it rumble in his chest under your hands, “That’s it– mmph– love how easy you cum for me–” he sighs out, relishing in the way you’re gripping his fat cock.

Your hips come to halt, done grinding down into him but his hands on you keep moving you against him. Encouraging you to keep grinding, it makes your stomach do flips, barely even coming down from your high before he’s trying to get you to cum again.

“It’s too much–”

“–I thought you needed it,” he counters.

You shudder against him, already on the edge so quickly after your last orgasm. You try to tell him how it feels, how it’s so overwhelming. Having his cock grinding so deeply inside you, having your clit drag against his pelvis, it’s so much. But nothing leaves you, nothing but a few more tears and small whimpers.

His expression as he watches you is sure; he knows what he’s doing, and he knows what he wants from you. You play right into his hand, and nothing brings him more joy than that, “You want to know what I need?” He asks you.

You shake your head at him, not really paying attention.

“I need you to cum again,” he tells you and he’s serious, his hands grip you harder and drag you against him firmer.

The added pressure has you cumming on him again, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you cream around him, again. He moans pleasurably, overjoyed at you doing as he says and at the way your cunt cums messily around him. He twitches inside you, sensitive and needy for you but having too much fun playing with you to stop.

Even as your body jolts from overstimulation, he doesn’t stop dragging you against him, still forcing your hips to grind down, “Liu, I need a moment–”

“–No, you don’t.”

With the way he’s filling you completely and the stimulation on your clit, he’s going to kill you, or have you passing out on his cock. Your arms struggle to keep yourself up, shaking against his chest. One of his hands leave your hips to pull you to him, your bare chest pressed to his own. He’s so hot.

How he’s holding you now, he leans back slightly, feet planting on the bed. Using his leverage to grind up into you as he forces you down on him, it has you moaning into his skin. The hand on your back slides up and grabs at the back of your neck, holding you to him.

“I know you’re already close again,” his voice is breaking, holding back his own sounds of pleasure until they only come out as whiney breaths.

You whinge against him, “I can’t–”

“–You can, and you will.”

His skin is so warm, so firm, all his muscles moving against you. His large cock fills you so well and you want him to actually fuck you, but you’re concerned you might not be able to take it. You’re drooling on his skin now, just from his incessant grinding, the thought of him actually fucking you has your cunt clenching and brain short circuiting.

“Come on, love–” his words are cut off by his own gasp, you’ve cum at the sound of his voice. It’s low but pitched with need and he sounds so fucking good that you cum on the spot, your pussy choking his dick harshly.

He groans at the way you grip him; his hands stop dragging you down onto him, but his hips chase yours, his own desperation showing in the way he’s rutting against you. His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly. He keeps grinding up into you and it makes you whine into his neck.

He’s breathing heavily next to your ear, borderline whimpering at the way you wrap so tightly around him, at the way you came so nicely for him.

“Liu, you –hah– feel too good –mmph– too much,” you mumble against his skin, his shoulder wet from where you’ve been drooling against him.

“–Hah– I am not even close to done with you yet,” he huffs in response, his hips still grinding up into you. With how he’s holding you, you have no choice but to take what he gives and what he’s giving right now is desperate grinding, still not fucking into you properly.

He moves his face into your neck and licks at the length of it, it makes you shudder against him, "Last one, and then –mmm– I’ll fuck you.”

You’re dazed as you check with him, “Promise?”

He hums at you, “Promise.”

His hips keep grinding up into you, his hand on your hip encouraging you to do the same, wanting you to finish for him. Your body is tired, but you rut down against him, it makes him hiss and then he bites your neck. The sounds he would have made muffled by his teeth in your skin, the feeling has your cunt spasming on him.

He pulls his mouth back from you just to lick and suck at your skin and then he’s biting your shoulder. The small pain driving you up a wall, it makes your pussy leak for him, your breaths are stuttered and you’re going to cum again.

He mumbles against your skin before pulling back a bit so you can hear him, “The way you’re gripping me, fuck–” He’s about to moan but instead bites your neck again, harder this time. The shock of the pain goes straight to your cunt and you cum on him, again.

You’re lucky he’s already pressed you completely to him because you would’ve collapsed onto him. Whines and whimpers are pulled from your chest, more tears slip down your cheeks and you feel so far away from your body, you don’t even feel like you’re on Earth anymore.

Liu is groaning into your skin, he pulls back and lathes over his bite mark with his tongue and when he looks at it, he hums in contentment. Pleased with the impression of his teeth in your soft skin. His hips have stopped grinding up into you, giving you a needed break, you’re slumped against him, breathing heavily.

“Been doing so good for me,” he compliments. You can only hum in response to him, you’re out of it.

He lets you catch your breath; his hands stroke up and down your back, his lips press kisses into your skin, over the bite marks he’s left. He’s giving you a quiet moment to gather yourself and you really appreciate it because at this point, you don’t even know how many orgasms he’s given you, but your body does and you’re feeling fucked out.

Once your breathing is normal, you tell him, “You’re going to kill me.”

He chuckles at you lightly, amused, “No, I’m not.” He pulls your head back so he can press his lips to yours, taking away any chance of you disputing him.

The kiss is kind and tender and a stark difference to how he’s just pulled multiple orgasms from you. He kisses you softly, his tongue slips into your mouth, and you melt against him. Your thighs spreading open further on him unconsciously, it has his cock inching just the tiniest bit more inside you and it makes you moan into the kiss.

He grunts against you; his hands grip at your hips. His body heat is still hot, he’s itching to fuck you but being as patient as he can be. When he pulls back from the kiss, he nips your lip lightly and it makes you gasp. He only smiles easily at you when you glare at him for it.

“Need you to move, want you on your hands and knees for me,” he taps your thigh, and you start pulling up, it has you releasing gasped whines. Just as you’re at the tip of him, his hands hold you on him, “Look at the mess you’ve made on me,” he practically growls out the words.

When you look down, the mess is obscene, so much of your cum coats his cock. Creamy ring at the base of him, you look to Liu but he’s looking at his cock and how messy it is. His dick jerks at the image, his hands hot on your hips.

“You are such a messy little thing, love the way you cum for me, so fucking easy to have you creaming on me, fuck–” he closes his eyes for a moment, he’s working himself up. He takes a breath and looks at you, eyes dark, “Hands and knees.”

Taking the hint, you pull yourself off him completely and shuffle around on the bed. You face the headboard and sit back on your knees, feeling a bit embarrassed at arching your back for him and hesitating to do so. He gets off the bed and stands up, removing his pants properly. He moves to the foot of the bed and points in front of himself, giving you wordless instructions.

You do as he indicates and move in front of him, he tells you, “Hands, knees,” and makes a spinning motion with his hand, instructing you to turn your back to him.

Turning around, you lean onto your hands, you feel sheepish as you do. Liu’s hand pushes your upper back down until your chest is on the bed, his other hand pushes your thighs open for him. You arch your back for him, your ass and cunt on full display. When he pulls away to look at you, he groans.

His hands play with the globes of your ass, pulling them apart and staring at your pussy, “Perfect, stay like this.”

Faintly, you can hear shuffling from behind you, you aren’t sure what he’s doing. But it shocks you when Liu drives his cock into you all at once, your body jolts forward and you moan. Liu curses lowly at the feel of you around him again. His curses are hissed and breathy, and he holds his hips to your ass for a moment, collecting himself.

Once he’s taken a second, he pulls out of you and forces himself back in. His initial choice in pace is already so devastating, his thrusts are harsh, stuffing his cock into you with each one. All you can do is take it though, so you do, because as overstimulated as you are, the way he’s finally fucking you has you feeling so blissed out, you wouldn’t rather be doing anything else.

He fucks into you so deep the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, your moans are pitiful, almost whimpers from how well he fills you, from how well he fucks you. He has you seeing stars and you would be embarrassed at how close you are to cumming on him again, but it feels so good, and you’ve been far gone ever since he stuck his dick in you completely the first time.

Liu’s moans flow more freely from him like this, letting himself indulge after robbing himself of the pleasure he desperately wanted from you. He was torturing you before sure, but he was also balls deep in your tight cunt, not doing anything but grind into you, his self-restraint is godly, and he thanks all that is good for it because he really does love making you coat his dick in your cum. He loved having you cry for him, overstimulated and needy, he’s going to cum at just the thought of it if he’s not careful.

Your moans hit a higher pitch and his thrusts pick up pace, knowing you’re close and still wanting another couple orgasms from you before he finally fills you with his cum. His hands on your hips fuck you back onto him as he thrusts forwards and you’re clenching down on him, a small pathetic whimper exiting you as you cum on him.

If you hadn’t already been arched the way you are, your arms would have given out and had you face planting into the bed below. Instead, you whimper at your unknown numbered orgasm and drool into the sheets. Mind swimming with thoughts of him, of his large hands, how hot they are against your skin, about the thick drag of his heavy cock against your walls, how easily he pushes you off the edge, so sure in his actions, so sure you’ll cum for him when he wants it.

Your pussy throbs around him, he grunts but doesn’t stop fucking you, he own need overwhelming him, his spoken thoughts not all that coherent anymore, “G –hah– you feel so fucki– feel so divine –nngh– mm going t– hah– to fuck all my cum inside you, fill up your –nngh– tight little –fuck– cunt,” his breaths are whiney, and his head is lost in the feel of you.

His hand reaches around your front to rub at your clit, the stimulation has you shrieking and trying to crawl away from him, “Liu– I –hah– can’t please–”

You keep trying to crawl up the bed away from him, but he pulls you right back with no effort, “Yes you can– I need you to –hah– fuck–”

He holds you back easily, you have no chance to escape his punishing thrusts and relentless fingers. He’s still mumbling nonsense but not only is he barely coherent, but your thoughts are barely coherent, all the blood rushing to your head. You can’t understand what he’s saying but it’s a mix between praises and curses.  

His fingers don’t stop and you cum on him, he’s effortlessly pulled another orgasm from you, and it makes your moan border on a yelp. Tears flow down your cheeks onto the bed sheets, you’re so sensitive now, your mind so far gone. He’s growling behind you at the way you pulse around him, the noises he makes barely human.

His hands are so hot on you, his skin burning up, he grabs both of your hands and pulls them back. Using you as leverage to fuck into you, he’s also making sure you can’t try and crawl away from him. His thrusts are wild, the wet noises in the room are so obscene, you think you’d die of shame if you had even half your wits about you.

You’ve heard the phrase fucked dumb and you thought you had been fucked dumb, last time Liu fucked you, but this is insane. He’s going to send you to an early grave, and you don’t even care, not with how delicious he sounds, the moans and grunts he’s letting out have you ascending to a higher plane.

His grip on your wrists are firm but he drops them and grabs your hips again, just to pull you back, your legs drop to the floor in front of him. Lucky he’s holding you up because you are not capable of it at the moment. Your front half is still pressed completely into the bed, Liu holds your lower half up, your tippy toes just barely grazing the floor. His dick is hitting everything inside you that has you folding in on yourself and insides twisting, he might make you cum again, you’re going to need some kind of higher being to take mercy on you because you are fucked.

He's animalistic behind you, focusing on his own high, at least you thought he was, but his hand reaches for your clit again and you try to squirm away from him. You are unsuccessful, you’re so weak and he’s got you in the palm of his hand and he knows it. You can’t even verbally protest, only wiggle and whine below him.

“Want you to –hah– fuck– I need you to squirt for me,” his voice is deep, laced with so much hunger.

You try to tell him, “I don –ah– ’t th –mmph– ink I–”

“You can.” He’s steadfast, certain you can and that he will make you.

His fingers slip over your clit, everything is so slick, both your lower halves slippery from all your orgasms. He’s not gentle, his thrusts are harsh, and his fingers are determined, his cock is bullying its way into your cunt, hitting so deeply inside you, you go cross eyed.

The build-up is making you crazy, everything he does is pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being. Your cunt is clenching down on him like a vice, the pleasure feels like too much and you squirm against him, trying to get away again. Nonsensical words fall from your lips trying to warn him, but he only laughs deeply at your attempts at evasion; he’s happy he’s getting what he wants. A particularly deep thrust sends you over the edge, you cum… everywhere.

Liu groans at the sight of you squirting for him, on him, his thrusts don’t slow, if anything, they speed up. Chasing his own high now, so ready to fill you to the brim with his cum. He’s trying very hard to keep his powers under control, not wanting to burn you but his hands are hot against you and the closer he gets to his high, the less control he has over himself.

You’re crying from the pleasure, it’s been so intense, you don’t even feel like a person anymore. You can’t even moan, the noises you make are small whines and cries. Liu is obsessing over how your cunt swallows his cock, how well you take him. He’s also enjoying the small sounds you’re making, his ego inflated hugely tonight.

Everything about you right now has Liu just about losing his mind, the sounds he lets out are wild and unrestrained. All you can do is take it and wait for him to finish, and you really want him to finish. You want to hear him cum, want to feel him twitch inside you as he finishes.

You clamp down on him harshly, the sudden tightness of your cunt has Liu keeling over slightly, moans breaking off into whimpers as he fucks his cum into you. His hands burn you and he fucks your hips down against the bed so it holds you up, wanting to remove his hands as quick as he can.

He grabs at the footboard of the bed, the wood smouldering under his hands, he’s burning his handprints into the wood. He humps into you for a while, riding out his high, rutting into you to keep his cum inside your pussy. You’re pressed to the bed, completely absent.

When he’s gathered some control back, he leans down over you, “Are you okay?”

“I– I think so,” you slur out, mouth mostly pressed into the mattress.

He hums and slowly pulls his cock from you, he takes a moment to watch his cum leak from you, wanting so badly to stuff it back in but knowing you’re already so sensitive and he doesn’t want to push you.

“Did I go too far?” He asks, scared he’s broken you.

“Mm good,” you singsong out, shakily giving him a thumbs up, “Worth it.”

He scoffs at you in amusement, eyes tracing over your fucked out body, landing on the light burns he’s left on your hips. Red handprints left behind; the sight has his ego inflating but he also feels guilty.

“Need to give you a cold shower,” he comments.

You murmur out to him, “Bit late for that.”

“For the burns,” he clarifies.

“Hmm?” You didn’t think they were that bad, you remember him being hot, not burning you. Getting up slowly and with Liu’s help, you twist to look at your hips, “Well, I’ll be.” You smile stupid at the burns, “I like ‘em.” You say before flopping back onto the bed.

“Need to run them under cool water,” he presses you.

You only groan at him, “Can’t move.”

He sighs at you and picks you up, carrying you to your bathroom. He has to hold you up in the shower but he’s happy to. Your legs are like jelly and you’re barely conscious.

You remember why this happened and ask him, “As good as your dream?”

“So much better,” he kisses your cheek, “In my dream, you only came a couple times, this was way better.”

You gape at him, “What?”

He just smiles happily at you, pleased with himself.

₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING!!! I know it took me way longer than usual and I really appreciate all of you <33 As always, if you have any thoughts, questions, requests, my inbox is open ! P.S. the discord server got snippets of this way more and were updated more frequently, if you’d like to join send me a dm :))))

[bones4thecats]

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

Type of Writing: Random Idea Characters: Vox, Valentino, Velvette, and Alastor Name: What Are They Like As Parents? Idea-Gifter: Random Thoughts

A/N: This is basically an AU where they married their S/O in real life and had a child with them back then. But, due to issues with birth, their S/O died with the child. So there will be trigger warnings when it comes to that. Also, the type of demon the reader is is listed below! Have a nice rest of your days/nights, my lil bubbles🫧

P.S: The Reader goes through birth, so they're headcanoned as female, but a gender is not fully noted

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Death, Swearing, Miscarriage, and mentions of Assault ⚠️

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Technological-Demon! Reader ; Medical Technology

📺 Vox and you were very close when alive. Growing up together and eventually falling in love and marrying

📺 Sooner rather than later, you were expecting a baby boy, in which you two decided to name him (M/N). Unfortunately, due to difficulties during birth, Vox had lost not only his unborn child, but he lost his spouse

📺 Ever since that day, the man had driven himself further into his work, trying to push the memories of you both with your bump past him, he didn't want to remember how you smiled so gently at him as you died, or how the doctors tried saving you as blood erupted around your form

📺 It was because of how he held himself to such a low-degree that Vox had passed away, and due to his actions in life, he was banished to hell

📺 He believed he deserved it, but now he could start anew, and that was where he grew back into power and eventually met a fairly new Overlord, one that had your same name

📺 Once he asked you and learned that you and your son were transferred to hell, he grew upset, why on Earth were you, the sweetest being he had ever known sent to hell? And why was his son, who never did anything in life, get sent here?!

📺 Every other Overlord, besides Alastor, was on-edge when your small son crawled out from your hand, being nothing but small shocks before turning into a mixture of Vox and your's demon forms

📺 He just smiled lightly and kneeled in front of his child, patting him on the head and declaring how he'd protect you guys till the end of time, in no way was he going to allow you guys to slip from his grasp again

📺 Now, as your son was made into the form of a young child (4-6), Vox always tried to keep his anger on the down-low. He didn't want his son to only see his father angry and full of rage

📺 While he may seem like a horrible father at first, once he got used to the fact that your child was interested in your occupations, you being a medic of the Overlords and him being the head of VoxTek, he smirked at Valentino and Velvette before holding his child and gloating about his company

📺 Speaking of the other two Vees, they adore your child. Valentino loves to help your son with his social skills, and he tries keeping his business on the down-low around him, he doesn't need to get shocked or nearly have his wings amputated by Vox and you again

📺 Velvette on the other hand, she loves to test her outfits on your child, from helping him find the most suitable outfits to having him listen to something on her phone as she speaks to her two main allies during a meeting, she is honestly a decent aunt

📺 Vox also has a wild obsession with watching Alastor fail, so if he were to ever see the Radio Demon talking to you or his son, he'd lose his shit, not caring who was there to watch

" I swear to fuck, you old-timey shit-stain, if you ever try touching my S/O or my son again, I'll fucking kill you and drag your corpse all around hell for the all people to see. "

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Insect-Demon! Reader ; Rosy Maple Moth

❣️ Valentino and you married quite early in life and had a very active life

❣️ It was due to your shared actions that you found of you were pregnant quite early, which made him try calming down from his actions and begin to coddle you

❣️ Unfortunately for him, your body couldn't quite handle the stress of birth, resulting in your demise, along with your daughter. And due to this event, he was driven mad

❣️ This was where he developed his abusive personality, constantly yelling and assaulting his workers, including Angel Dust when he first arrived and signed a contract

❣️ It took a while, but one he had heard about a new Overlord that looked a lot like Valentino (in terms of species) with a daughter that looked nearly identical, he decided to attend the next meeting without his fellow Vees

❣️ It only took a quick glance for him to know exactly who you were, in life you loved to mess around with roses, so it only made sense that you'd become a demon in relation to that plant

❣️ Once the meeting ended, Valentino walked up behind you and hugged you, wrapping his larger wings around your form as he felt your tiny orange-yellow antenna tickle his chin

❣️ Valentino also loves his baby girl a lot, spoiling the young girl with everything she could ever want

❣️ Once you and her walked back into his life, everyone within his studio learned who you were quickly, you were the long-time spouse of Valentino's, and the father to his young daughter

❣️ They also took notice of how more collected he was, and while he did have his moments of anger, he rarely ever laid a hand on his employees, unless he got angry enough

❣️ Valentino also swore on his afterlife that he would never touch anyone in the ways that he would touch you or your daughter, which allowed your new friend, Angel Dust, to be more free with his time

❣️ Much like Vox, he doesn't seem like he'd be a good parent. And they're kinda right, but only with certain situations

❣️ Valentino doesn't know what to do when it comes to certain scenarios, like when your daughter asked where children came from and you had to wrap your pink and yellow wings around his mouth to silence him from giving a very detailed story of how she came into existence

❣️ Vox and Velvette are also fairly involved with helping him raise his child, Velvette loves to help her dress, from giving her small clips to put in her hair to giving her full-fledged outfits, she spoils her just as much as Valentino does

❣️ Vox also spoils her, but he also knows when to be strict, he mostly just watches her whenever Valentino and you get busy with running the studio in V Tower. He's been declared the 'Godfather'/'Uncle' of your baby

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Bird-Like-Demon! Reader ; Peacock

📳 Velvette and you agreed that you'd raise your child together, despite knowing that it wasn't her own, rather, it was your ex-husband's

📳 He had abandoned you with your unborn baby a few months prior to you and Velvette married, and it was on your honeymoon that you went into labor

📳 Sadly, you had lost the baby, and eventually lost your life due to internal injuries just a few months later, prompting your wife to go a hint overboard with her actions

📳 When she died, she never expected to see you sitting across from her at an Overlord meeting, your long tail feathers falling onto your lap where a small boy sat, playing with them

📳 She looked up in shock as you told her of your son, how you both were banished here, your son due to the fact that he had the potential to due just a horrid things as you, and that angered her

📳 Velvette loves to mess around with your feathers that laid behind your head, the ones that only flare up when upset or feeling any kind of strong emotion

📳 She also adores to have you carry her, since she was fairly short when it comes to sinners, and you were very tall when it came to the species

📳 Now, when it comes to your son, she loves to dress him up, acting as if he was a small mannequin that she needed to make look as gorgeous as possible, and thankfully he looks a lot like you, meaning if something looked good on you, it would no doubt look good on him as well

📳 If your ex-husband ever came by to take his son back, she would straight-up ruin his life, literally. She'd post everything around to make him lose his title, and if that didn't work, she'd just kill him, she doesn't care which he chooses

" I swear to you, (R/N). If you ever, ever, try to come here and demand to have the son that you abandoned in the first place, I will do two things. I'll ruin your fucking afterlife by stripping your title away, and I'll make sure during the next Extermination, you get a very long and fucking long death, try me, bitch-boy. "

📳 Velvette also is a fairly good step-mother to your son, she loves to give him small trinkets she finds around. One time she came home with a small present from the store, and when your son looked at the tiny necklace that opened to show holographic photos of you three together, you couldn't help but fall for her even more

📳 Much like with the other Vees, she does involve Valentino and Vox with her step-child's life

📳 On average, she has Valentino just help watch him, leaving Vox being the head of watching him, she doesn't need to have you on her ass about how Valentino took her son to the studio to observe his work

📳 Vox is the official 'Grandfather' of your son, while Valentino is more like the 'Funcle' of the two

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Mythical-Creature-Demon! Reader ; Wendigo

🔘 Alastor and you shared a lot in common during life, from your cannibalistic and murderous crimes, you both bonded over the fact that you were able to keep it all away from people's eyes, despite your high-ranks in society

🔘 He was the head of his own radio broadcast, while you were the head of a small orphanage that took in any child that was needing a home without any problems

🔘 Ever since Mimzy introduced the two of you and you learned of your situations, you decided to 'help' one another out, and by that, I mean by covering for one another

🔘 This teamwork led to you guys falling in love, in a twisted way that is. He loved you for how you would just casually keep a smile on, and you loved him because of his owl personality

🔘 While many didn't expect him to ever fall in love, due to him being a canonical aromantic, they did find it funny to watch him just smile and treat you like a member of royalty

🔘 He never really did find a need for intimate actions, but one drunken night and a lot of pregnancy tests later, you found of you were carrying his child, alerting him to keep you away from your previous crimes. He didn't need you or the child getting harmed

🔘 Alastor may not have shown it, but he was very heartbroken when the doctor released the news that you had lost your baby, and eventually your own life

🔘 Knowing due to your crimes that you'd end up in hell, Alastor would sit at your grave and speak of how he'd see you sometime soon

🔘 And he was right. He had found you once again during his first Overlord meeting, what he did not expect was seeing your young son sitting on your lap while gnawing on a small hunk of deer meat

🔘 He knew that this was your shared child, and he welcomed the youngling with open arms and a fully-fledged smile, his sharp teeth matching his son's

🔘 Speaking of your son, he loves to spend time with his father, learning how to play the piano and singing old songs with him as you stood off to the side with Husk and Niffty, watching the boys have fun

🔘 Alastor only allows you and your son to really touch him without many warnings, and while it took a lot to get used to, he loves watching him randomly grab his staff and try singing in the microphone

🔘 Much like his father, your son can use tentacles and use his powers to make his voice radio-sounding, and it is the funniest thing to watch members of the Hotel go nuts hearing so much of the noise

🔘 Due to being the son of the Radio Demon and the Wendigo Overlord, many don't even dare trying to touch your son, well, except for Vox and Lucifer

🔘 Vox one time had decided to try holding your son without permission, resulting in him being sent flying across the meeting room by your husband

🔘 And when Lucifer first arrived and began to tickle your son to make him laugh, he stood off to the side with his ears pushed backwards in irritation, watching his son smile by such a fatherly action not being made by him was annoying

🔘 And, because of your declaration, you named the members of the Hotel as your son's 'Godfathers'/'Godmothers', only having Husk and Niffty as the 'Siblings' of your son

[paper-bag-boy]

i had an incredibly vivid dream about three mafia yanderes having the hots for the same victim. it's gonna be a looooooong one.

I'm imagining the guys as Nobunaga, Phinks, and maybe Feitan (hxh), or shigaraki, dabi, and hawks (mha/bnha). (mha/bnha).

tw: noncon, public sex(?), human trafficking (will get to that part later)

imagine you meet them in the cinema during a uni exchange programme. you're in a foreign country, you befriended like two other people who speak your language and you usually stick to those same people.

one day your group decides to go to the cinema but have to split up due to the crowd. you end up in between two attractive guys and aside from the awkward shuffling you have to make to get to your seat, you don't interact with them much.

then during the movie they start getting handsy. the guy on your left slips his hand under your skirt and the guy on your right gropes your chest, pulling a knife on you to keep quiet. abandoning all self preservation, you take a breath to scream but a hand slaps over your mouth, his burly arm almost crushing you. your heart stutters and you wish it'd stop completely, there was a third guy!

there's nothing you can do but sit there as they grope you. the man on your right sucks hickies into your neck while he fondles your breasts, while the one on your left pulls your panties aside and dips his fingers into your waistband, but whatever moans that escape you are muffled by the hand over your mouth. you can practically hear them grin as you start convulsing, the combination of the lips on your neck and fingers in your cunt tipping you over the edge, and they keep going when the pleasure bleeds into overstimulation.

you're gasping and twitching when they finally pull their hands away. the man on your left licks his fingers clean, the obscene gesture making you flush further, if possible. his mouth splits into a grin, and he taps your thigh, whispering a quick "thanks for the meal" before getting up and leaving with the man who'd covered your mouth.

the man on your right stays to help fix your clothing. or at least, he tries to while groping your curves one last time. once satisfied, he pulls back, giving you a quick peck on your forehead. the uncharacteristic action stuns you more than anything they'd done to you and you almost miss his parting words.

your friends find you after the movie, teasing you for falling alseep during the action scenes. but all you can think of are the men's fingers on you and how one had stayed to give his goodbyes...

"see you around, cutie."

(I'll write the rest later, i literally just woke up)

[azrielsdove]

Idk how you write such amazing work. Perhaps i could bother you for a request? Eris x reader x azriel.

Reader is Eris fiance and soon to be high lady. At a ball Azriels shadows swarm her curling around her neck and wrist. When they curl her exposed leg up to her thigh due to her dress she lets out the most bright contagious laugh (shes ticklish) and the bond snaps for azriel but not her. Im a sucker for a jealous azzy and some angst. ❤️❤️

Okay, I got a littleeee carried away with this one. Please let me know what you think!

Playing With Fire

Warnings: Lil angst, lil smut, 18+

***

You looked up into the eyes of your fiancé, spinning gracefully throughout the room. The Autumn Court High Lord was a fan of balls, and the announcement of his engagement was certainly reason enough to throw one. Eris looked down at you, a cunning smile on his face.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, eyes roaming over your body. You laughed, used to his sensuality.

“As always, dearest.” You responded, voice sultry. He held you tighter, eyes holding a promise for later.

You smiled at him as the song came to a close, pulling away to go grab a drink. You pressed a kiss to Eris’ cheek and headed to the edge of the room. A glass of wine now in your hands, you observed the party going on around you. The golden ring on your finger was heavy, a ruby situated in the middle of it. There was a certain power coming from it, an aura that commanded respect and attention.

Very similar to the male that gave it to you.

You felt something cold wrap around your ankle, looking down to see… a shadow? The little thing twirled around your leg, excited by your attention. You felt the same cool on your arms and neck, a small laugh coming from you. What were they doing? They didn’t feel malicious, just curious. You looked around the room, trying to determine who they belonged to.

A large winged male appeared next to you, face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, they aren’t listening to me.” He made a frustrated movement with his hands at them, but the shadows continued to swirl over you. One began to travel up the exposed skin of your thigh, a laugh breaking out from you.

You notice the male next to you stiffen and the shadows are suddenly pulled from your body. You look at him, hoping you hadn’t offended him. “My apologies, they tickled.” You explained a little sheepishly. He gave a curt nod, an unreadable expression in his face.

Eris chose that moment to find you, circling his arm around your waist as he stood next to you. “Azriel. What brings the Night Court spymaster out this fine evening?” Your fiancés tone was cold, clipped. He hadn’t been High Lord for very long, but the way he held himself right now radiated power like you’ve never seen.

The male with the wings- Azriel - stood straighter, matching Eris. “I came with Lucien to celebrate your engagement. Is that a problem, High Lord?” The title came out like an insult, a judgement. You didn’t know who this was, but your immediate reaction was to stand up for your love.

“Talk to him like that again and it will be.” You snapped, standing tall against him. His eyes shot to yours, surprise littering his features.

Eris smiled, his lips coming to press against the side of your neck. Azriel watched the action closely, a look like hunger shooting across his face. “She’s lovely, isn’t she Shadowsinger?” Eris taunted, moving to stand behind you. His lips continued kissing you, one hand splaying out over your stomach. You weren’t sure why he was doing this now, but your fiancés touch always riddled you breathless.

A soft moan left your lips as Eris bit on that sweet spot on your neck, the hand on your stomach dipping ever lower. Azriel’s wings fluttered, his hands in tight fists at his sides. “You like what you see, don’t you?” Eris continued his teasing, watching the other male closely.

Azriel was at a loss for words, too lost in the flush of pleasure on your cheeks. You noticed his intense stare, eyes shooting to the ground. Eris tucked his fingers under your chin, pulling your head up to look back at Azriel. “Now, now,” he chided, “my High Lady never backs down, does she?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, an internal war going on. Eris seemed to know what the problem was, smiling as he pulled you away from the male. “Enjoy the party, Spymaster.”

***

You broke away from the party early, heading back to your room. You left Eris to entertain, he was truly in his element at these parties. You were humming softly to yourself as you walked the halls of the palace, fingers trailing over the stone walls. You sensed a presence following you, your body stiffening at the possible danger.

You felt a cool brush against your leg again, looking down to see the little shadow from earlier. It curled around you affectionately, almost cute. “Hello,” you said to it, “What are you doing away from your master?” You gave a small laugh at the thing, watching it move around your leg.

“The same could be asked of you,” came a quiet voice, you turned to find the male from earlier.

“Excuse me?” You asked, not liking the implication of his words.

“You heard me. Where is your keeper?” There was a bite to his words, an anger in his eyes.

You straightened up, crossing your arms in front of you. “Eris has remained at the party. I have decided to go to bed, and if you’ll excuse me i’ll just be on my way.” You turned to continue walking to your room, stopped by a rough hand on your arm.

“He isn’t right for you.” It was almost a whisper, a strain for your ears to hear his words. You spun slowly towards him, cocking your head.

“And how, pray tell, do you know that?” You asked, holding your head high.

“He knows you’re the most powerful female in his court. Tell me, when did he show interest in you? Why would he approach you out of everyone else?” The hazel eyes were studying you, a sort of sorrow on his face.

“Who are you to ask me questions like this?” You didn’t want to trust him, but something about him was drawing you in.

“Someone who cares. Someone who knows things.” His hand released your arm, falling back to his side.

“Okay, Night Court Spymaster. What ‘things’ do you know that involve me and my fiancé?” You asked, intrigued by what he has to say.

He let out a sigh, eyes casting downward. “Eris is using you, my lady.”

The words were like a knife to your heart. “What? How?”

He looked back up at you, an apology in his eyes. “He knows he needs a strong High Lady by his side. It increases his power and respect. He sent out letters to all the males with daughters in the Court, asking for information. You outshone the others. Eris called a ball a week later, to meet his ‘true love’.” You nodded, remembering the night you met your fiancé clearly.

“He stumbled into you, seemingly on accident. The two of you hit it off and now here you are, engaged not but a few months later. I came tonight to gather information on what he was planning, and if you were in on it.” His hand shakily reached out and grabbed one of yours. “Then I saw you. And I knew you had no idea.”

You were stunned into silence, staring blankly at the male in front of you. You couldn’t deny that his words made sense, your father had received a letter before that ball. Eris did seem to know everything about you when you met, winning you over with charm and interest in the things you enjoyed. This male was not the first to bring up the quick engagement, you’ve heard the whispers yourself around Court.

“How can I trust you?” You asked quietly, pulling your hand back from his.

“I can’t show you now, you will have to come with me.” He informed, clasping his hands behind his back.

You debated in your head, your mind telling you not to trust this male you didn’t know. Yet something in your heart was gravitating towards him, telling you that he was being honest. If what he was saying is true, you may be in danger here. But if he’s lying, it will be a death sentence to go with him.

Voices came from down the hall, recognizable as Eris and one of his guards. You still weren’t decided, but you knew you didn’t want to be caught here with the winged Night Court male. You grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall, pushing him back into a cornered alcove. The two of you would be completely missed as long as no one looked into the dark corner.

Your back was pressed against his front, his hands coming to rest on your waist for balance. You held your breath, worried Eris would hear the hectic beating of your heart. The male behind you had to duck down a little against the low ceiling, his breath fanning across the back of your neck. You tried to ignore the fire spreading through your body at his touch.

Eris and his guard were getting closer, you pushed yourself harder against the Shadowsinger. He let out a small grunt, and you almost turned to apologize when you felt something hard against your back. His hands tightened on your waist, a small ‘o’ forming on your mouth as you realized what it was. It was wrong of you to enjoy this, especially when your fiancé was ten steps away.

Eris was right outside the alcove now, and to your horror he stopped. You heard him arguing with his guard, not paying any attention to what he was saying until you heard your name.

“That Spymaster knows what we are planning with her.” He was saying, voice agitated. His guard murmured in agreement. “She’s too valuable to lose. She has no idea the power that runs through her veins. I need her by my side if i’m going to take over the other courts.”

Take over the courts? Eris had never mentioned anything like that to you. He had only just gotten the Autumn Court High Lord title, what does he need with the rest?

The footsteps began again, Eris and his guard walking further down the hall. You stayed still, a million thoughts running through your mind. You suddenly darted out of the alcove, turning in panic to the male. “We have to go. Now. He’s going to notice i’m not in the bedroom and come looking.”

He nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You grabbed on, the world disappearing into a black cloud as he took you away from the only home you’d ever known.

***

Azriel landed you on the edge of the most beautiful city you had ever seen. You gazed at the glittering lights, amazed that a place like this exists in the Night Court. “This is Velaris,” he spoke quietly. “My home.”

The two of you stood there until you were satisfied, Azriel scooping you up into his arms. You looked at him wide-eyed, confused by his actions. He spread his wings and gave you a cocky smile. “We have to fly up to my house.”

You didn’t even have time to digest his words before he shot off into the sky, cool wind whipping your face. You dug your nails into his shirt, fear taking over your body. You had never been this high in the sky before, the night air harsh around you. He held you tighter, whispering to you that you were safe.

You didn’t think you breathed until your feet touched the solid ground of the massive house Azriel had brought you to. You barely had a second to adjust to the flight and your new surroundings before another male stepped out onto the balcony. You recognized him as Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court. He looked at you coolly, eyes flicking up to the male behind you.

You looked between them, noticing they were having some sort of mental argument. You knew the powers Rhysand possessed, Eris made sure you were up to date on everything about the other courts and their High Lords. Finally the other High Lord sighed, looking back to you. “Welcome to the Night Court. Azriel informs me that you overheard part of Eris’ plan regarding you. We have much to discuss.”

He turned and went back inside, leaving you and Azriel alone on the balcony. “You will sleep for now, and we will have a meeting in the morning.” He said, stepping up next to you. “Rhys wasn’t sure that we could trust you, so forgive the rather cold welcome.” He gave a small laugh with his words, one you did not return.

“I don’t know anything, Azriel.” You said quietly, ashamed of how easily you had been fooled by Eris. He took your hands reassuringly in his, making you look up at him.

“Do not discredit yourself, you will learn more tomorrow. But for now, you need rest. Come, i’ll show you to your room.”

***

Azriel had given you a tea to help you sleep, assuming your mind would be too busy to allow you rest. He said you needed to be as clear minded as possible for the meeting in the morning. You didn’t argue, drinking the sweet tea happily. You’d love to forget everything that had happened.

You woke up to the sun shining through the great windows in your room, it’s warmth welcome on your face. You stretched and crawled out of the bed, wearing a large shirt of Azriel’s he had given you last night. Your brain still told you it was wrong to be so comfortable with him, but that tug in your heart was louder. A knock came at your door, opening to reveal the very male plaguing your mind.

“I borrowed some clothes from Nesta, if you’d like.” He spoke politely, holding out a few different outfits for you. You took them with a ‘thank you’, moving to the bathroom to change. When you came out Azriel was waiting patiently for you, his eyes taking in your new appearance. The dark Night Court colors were different than the typical reds and golds you wore, but they were truly just as beautiful.

“Well, let’s go then.” Azriel said, leaving your room. You followed after him, nerves tight in your stomach. You weren’t sure what was expected of you here. Eris had never told you any of his plans, and you certainly hadn’t caught on to him using you. You and Azriel walked into a large meeting room, Rhysand already there. You noticed the High Lady sitting next to him, and another winged male. A female with short black hair was there as well, along with a deathly beautiful blonde. They were all looking at you, their gazes feeling a little overwhelming.

Azriel placed an arm around your waist for reassurance, leading you to a chair at the table. He sat next to you, prepared to help you against his friends. Your heart fluttered at his actions, and your mind yelled at you that you still had a fiancé. That they could be lying, that what Eris is planning may not be so bad. But even your mind couldn’t argue the words you heard from his own mouth.

“What has Eris told you?” Rhysand asked, jumping right in.

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, nervous with this new attention. Azriel placed his hand on your knee, giving you a comforting squeeze.

“I don’t believe that for a second. Be honest, girl.” The sharp words came from the silver-eyed female, glaring at you.

“I am being honest!” You retorted, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You looked back up to Rhysand, trying to prove your innocence. “Eris never brought up anything until I overheard him last night. He had never said anything more than me being his wife and High Lady, that together we would be the most ‘powerful duo.’ I didn’t think anything of it, assuming he either truly believed it or was flattering me with his words. Never did I think his plan was to take over Prythian!”

Rhysand studied you carefully, asking; “Will you let me in your mind? To see the truth.”

You nodded, willing to do anything to get those silver eyes off of you. You felt a strange sensation as Rhysand entered your mind, flicking through your memories with Eris. You blushed deeper as he opened some of the more intimate ones, humiliated that you trusted him so. When he was done the presence left your mind, and the look Rhysand now gave was kinder.

“She’s telling the truth. She had no idea.” You looked down in shame, wanting nothing more than to leave this room. Azriel’s thumb began stroking soothing circles on your leg, prompting you to look up at him.

“No one will judge you here. I promise.” He whispered, sending you a small smile. You failed to send one back, but placed your hand on top of his and squeezed in thanks.

“What do you know of your power that Eris so desperately wanted?” Rhysand asked, pulling your attention back to him.

“I don’t know. I was never trained, taught to only use them for typical household tasks. I’ve never gone deeper to see what’s there.” You explained, realizing how pathetic that sounded. How had you never noticed how sad your life was?

“Hm. I will have to train you myself, try to pull them out. It is imperative that we know what you can do.”

You nodded at his words, not looking forward to any sort of training session with the High Lord. “Eris will have realized you are missing by now, no doubt suspecting it was us who took you. You will have to remain hidden.”

“Of course,” you agreed politely. You had assumed as much, knowing there was no way you could return to the Autumn Court now.

“For now I will have Azriel return you to your room, until we decide what to do.” Rhysand dismissed the two of you, Azriel leading you back the way you came. You heard the murmur of voices pick up as the doors closed, knowing they were debating what to do with you. Where would you go if they decided it was too risky to keep you here?

***

A few weeks had gone by and there had been no sign of Eris. Nothing came from the Autumn Court about his missing fiancé, no rumors of anything that happened that night. You didn’t know whether to feel comforted or scared by that fact.

Your training with Rhysand was going well, uncovering the deep and dangerous fire in your veins. You were able to control the flames in a way that you had never seen, as if they were simply an extension of you. Even Lucien had been shocked watching you wield it, commenting that he could understand why his brother would try to capture this as his own.

You were growing more comfortable being around the others, but none quite as much as Azriel. He had quickly become your closest friend, making your transition to the Night Court as easy as possible. He was helping you physically train, getting strong and learning how to handle different weapons. There was an underlying tension you chose to ignore, memories of that night you hid with him in the alcove flooding your dreams.

You were in the small private library of the House when you heard shouts from down the hall. You pushed the door open just enough to see what was happening. You heard the clash of blades, fear shooting down your spine. A flash of red let you know Eris had somehow gotten up here. How? You knew you had to be flown up, the reason they kept you here.

“Where is she?!” He bellowed, fighting hard against Azriel.

“She’s not here.” He responded, slicing towards the other male.

“Lies! I can smell her. You can’t take my bride away from me!” Eris yelled.

“She doesn’t belong to you. She came willingly.” Azriel retorted, blade deflecting Eris’ attack.

“That docile little fox? She would never.” He sneered, the words sparking an anger in you. You couldn’t help yourself as you stepped through the doors, straight into his line of sight.

“I would, Eris.” You spoke, fire at the tips of your fingers. The fighting stilled, both males turning to look at you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Eris snorted, lowering his blade. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m willing to forgive this treachery if you come back with me. You know they will never treat you correctly here, not like I can.”

The fire grew in your hands as you stepped towards him. “This is your only warning, Eris. Leave, or I will make you. Is that how you want to return to your court, High Lord? Defeated by your old fragile bride?”

His gaze faltered, doubt crossing his features for a split second before being replaced by his cocky expression. “You? Take on me? I’d like to see you try.”

You took a step closer, the fire traveling up your arms. “Oh Eris, you know the power I hold. That’s why you chose me, isn’t it? Now that i’ve been training that power, is it really something you want to stand up against?”

He took a step back, the fear of what you could do winning. He sheathed his sword, glaring between you and Azriel. “This is not over. You are making a grave mistake.” He was gone before you could react, some strange power allowing him to leave the House.

Your fire quieted, retreating back down to nothing. You turned to Azriel, opening your mouth to say something, when you were interrupted by his lips against yours.

You didn’t immediately react, too shocked to understand what he was doing. One of his hands fell to your waist, the other cupping the back of your neck. You sunk into his touch, palms flat on his chest. “That,” he growled into the kiss, “was the sexiest act i’ve ever seen.” He pushed you backwards until your back touched the wall behind you, lips traveling from yours to your neck. You arched against him at his touch, the way every touch of his mouth was like fire against your skin.

“Azriel,” you murmured out, mind hazy. He nipped a sensitive spot on your neck at his name, a low moan falling from yours lips. He fell to his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs as he raised your skirt.

“I can’t handle it anymore. I need to taste you.” He groaned, kissing the exposed skin on your thighs. He pulled one leg over his shoulder, looking up at you to get your permission. The rational part of you was yelling that this was a bad idea, but the pull in your heart and the heat between your legs were screaming for him.

“Yes. Please.” You gasped, head falling back against the wall behind you as your hands tangled in his hair. He wasted no time in pulling your underwear to the side, licking up you. You moaned, hands tugging on his hair. You didn’t care that you were out in the open hallway, that anyone could walk by. The only thing you could focus on was the feel of Azriel’s tongue against you.

He sucked harshly against you, fingers coming up to tease your entrance. You ground against him, needing to feel him. He smiled against you, one finger slipping inside your waiting body. You tightened around him, mouth open in a silent scream. Eris had never made you feel this good so quickly. The pull in your heart was growing stronger as Azriel explored you, heightening your pleasure in a way you’ve never experienced.

He added another finger, curling them perfectly inside you. His lips and tongue were attacking you, sucking and biting in the most delicious way. Your mind was going blank, the only thing on it was his name. You felt yourself about to break, your pleasure ready to take over you. “Azriel, Azriel i’m-“ You were cut off by a harsh suck and his fingers working you perfectly, a shuddering moan being ripped from your body.

“That’s right, cum for me.” He instructed, keeping his movements steady. You bit your lip as the orgasm washed over you, trying to keep from screaming. Azriel pushed you through it, prolonging your pleasure as long as possible. Gasping breath after gasping breath fell from your lips, your body shaking against him. If it wasn’t for the force of him keeping you up you would have collapsed.

Azriel removed his mouth and fingers from you, standing up to tower over you. You look up into his lust-blown eyes and that tug in your heart erupts. Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, feeling that impenetrable golden string between the two of you. “Oh,” you whisper, mind still hazy from the events of a minute ago.

He slowly leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “Do you understand now why I couldn’t leave you there?” He whispers against you, pulling you close. You nod, shocked beyond words. Azriel was your mate.

***

Note: I don’t think Eris is truly an evil guy but he had to be for this story ! For my Eris lovers out there i’m sorryyyy

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

HEYYAA, I have a lil drabble req for the series “Who’s Afraid of Little Old me” :33

Wanda n Bumble are at home while Nat is out doing god knows what 🤷‍♀️ Wanda has a panic attack and Bumble helps her out :33

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

No Need to Panic

Wandanat x human pet!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda and Natasha have been looking for a pet for some time, but they've had no luck until they meet you, will you be a good fit for their lives?

Word Count: 527

Warnings: 18+ due to themes, MDNI, heavy pet play, human pets, abuse, violence, hurt/comfort, panic attacks

Authors Note: It's only been like a week, but I missed Bumble and the girls! I love them so much! Please if you have more ideas for this AU tell me!

It was a quiet afternoon at home. Natasha had gone out to run some errands, leaving you and Wanda alone in the house. The peaceful ambiance was usually a comfort, but today, something felt different. Wanda seemed more on edge than usual, her movements jittery and her breathing uneven.

You watched her closely from your spot on the couch. You had grown attuned to the subtle shifts in her mood, recognizing the signs of distress even if you couldn't quite understand their cause. As you observed, Wanda's breathing became more rapid, and her hands started to tremble. She tried to steady herself, but it was clear she was struggling.

Your instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, you moved to her side, your presence a silent offer of support. Wanda sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch, trying to calm herself, but the panic was building. She hugged her knees to her chest, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to regain control.

Seeing her distress, you knew you had to help. Remembering how you'd seen service dogs on TV, you gently nudged your way into her lap, pressing your body against hers. Wanda's eyes opened, meeting yours, and she seemed to draw some comfort from your steady gaze.

You laid yourself across her legs and torso, applying gentle pressure. You stayed perfectly still, your weight a grounding presence that helped anchor her. Wanda's hands found their way to your hair, gripping lightly as she focused on your warmth and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Slowly, her breathing began to sync with yours, each exhale a little less frantic than the one before. You remained still and calm, your sole focus on providing her the comfort she needed. Her grip on you tightened momentarily before loosening, and you felt her muscles gradually relax under your weight.

Minutes passed, and the panic that had gripped Wanda started to ebb away. Her hands stroked your hair rhythmically, the action helping to center her thoughts. She whispered soft words of gratitude, her voice shaky but full of relief.

"Thank you, Bumble," she murmured, her fingers gently scratching behind your ears. "I don't know what I would do without you."

You nuzzled closer, pressing your head against her chest, letting her feel your unwavering presence. In that moment, you understood that your role in this family went beyond just being their pet. You were a source of comfort and stability, a constant in their lives. You couldn’t help, but let your tail wag.

As Wanda continued to calm down, she wrapped her arms around you in a tender hug, her breathing finally steady. The two of you stayed like that for a while, drawing strength from each other. When Natasha returned home later, she found the two of you still on the floor, Wanda's arms around you, both of you enveloped in a sense of peace and mutual support.

Natasha's eyes softened at the sight, and she quietly set down her bags, joining the two of you on the floor. She placed a gentle hand on Wanda's shoulder, and the three of you shared a moment of silent understanding and love.

[da-rulah]

In Cold Blood - Terzo x f!reader

Summary: Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with.

After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home.

Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary?

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Word Count: 19.6k (i'm back bitchesssss)

Warnings: Dark fiction, horror fic, mentions of murder, coercion, manipulation, obsession, masturbation (f), voyeurism, manhandling, threat and mild violence, dubious consent (later turns to verbal consent), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, blood, blood drinking, unprotected sex

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Leave a tip

WARNING: This is a work of DARK FICTION. It is a horror fic, and contains mentions of violence as well as elements of dubious consent and manipulation. Please do not read if this is going to affect you negatively. You have been warned, and I take no responsibility if you choose to ignore the warnings and triggers attached.

a/n: well hello there. It's been a while, hm? Radio silence and then BOOM, a 20k word fic outta nowhere? Well, this was written for the wonderful @angellayercake's birthday, and she's been so kind as to give her permission for me to share it. I promise, more new content coming soon, and I'll be working on an update for The Mayor's Daughter ASAP! Happy reading, creeps...

“What’s the catch?”

The real estate agent blinked at you in confusion, as if you’d just asked her to recite the square route of pi to the 30th decimal.

“The… the catch?” she asked, “I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s just so cheap, I have to wonder which closet the skeletons are hiding in…” you joked, knowing full well the skeletons were actually in the backyard under the headstones that sat growing moss and ivy for the last six decades at least.

“Ma’am… I’ve been very upfront about the state of the house. It needs extensive repairs and renovation, it has a graveyard out back, it’s way out in the sticks and the landscaping is overrun… What more could be wrong with it?” She rang out her hands nervously, chewing on her cherry red lips as you scrutinised her body language. You’re sure there was something she wasn’t telling you, but this was a perfect opportunity for you…

Coming off the back of a decent chunk of inheritance left by a relative you’d long-since forgotten, you needed a project. You’d always wanted to renovate a beautifully gothic home from the 19th century, and when you saw the listing for exactly that on the edge of a small town? Ideal. Perfect. Exactly what you wanted. The thought of being a little out in the country, surrounded by land and away from the bustle of the city you grew up in was all too appealing.

“It has a charm to it, don’t you think?” you smiled to yourself, fiddling with the dusty net curtains still hanging in the living room’s huge bay window.

“Uh… sure, yeah,” the agent agreed with reluctance, still so confused as to why you would be at all interested in this ruin that she couldn’t even show you all of due to the structural integrity of the floorboards.

“I’d like to put in an offer,” you told her, turning back to face her with a smile on your face.

“You… really? Oh, my god! Okay, great! Well, I’ll get the paperwork…” she sprung into action, suddenly full of an energy that could only have been triggered by the whiff of her future commission.

It would take some work, sure, but this place had the potential to be the perfect project and future home for you…

It took six months, but the structural integrity of the house had been stabilised by a team of builders you’d hired to take care of the place while you got your affairs in order and ready to move halfway across the country. You weren’t taking much; a lot of the furniture left in the abandoned house was part of the project and with a little restoration would be absolutely beautiful. You were ready for the work, ready to create a home that you could be so proud of and had your stamp on it.

Moving into the house was quicker than you thought it would be, with most of your furniture sold and donated. For now, you had to live out of suitcases until you had a bedroom and closet space that was clean enough to hang your things in.

At the very least, you’d cleaned and stripped the four-poster bed that still lay in the master suite, checking the integrity of the bed itself and noting how… pristine it seemed compared to a lot of the other furniture left behind. But this was made of expensive, dark mahogany wood – it was built to last, and so with a polish, a new mattress and sheets? You had a gorgeous bed to sleep in each night, taking a little bit of pressure off when you’d spent an entire day exhausting yourself over more renovations.

One of your first jobs had been landscaping in the graveyard. You’d felt pulled to the graves, wanting to give whoever was buried on your property a much more respectful resting place, rather than allowing them to be swamped by ivy and moss.

It seemed to be a family plot, probably the last family to have owned the home. Every stone had the same surname, dating back to the first of the deaths in 1904. What struck you as odd, however, was the nature of the stones themselves…

For the time period, you might have expected angels, cherubs, perhaps a cross or two. But whilst these stones were ornate and beautiful, they were not steeped in biblical references at all. Instead, the eldest stone had a decaying gargoyle sat atop it… Another, a ram’s head at the base. One had a stone skeleton laying above where the body would have been buried, carved into a slab of concrete as if it was protruding from the grave itself. You’d never seen graves like this before, symbols and carvings you couldn’t identify but had you on edge the minute you looked at them. But one of those symbols, you certainly recognised.

A pentagram.

Now, as a purveyor of the dark and mysterious, you hadn’t minded the thought of a graveyard in your garden. For goodness sake, you loved the gothic aesthetic, the dark and macabre had always called out to you. But to find these graves had a theme to them, a darker, occult theme… It cast a deeper shadow over the home you’d purchased.

Who were this family? Were they part of an occult? You were itching to understand the history, to uncover more about the lost family that let their home fall to ruin and their graves be overrun by nature.

But it had to wait, the renovations taking over to make your house a far more liveable abode. With the graves at least clear from nature’s extremities, you could come back to them another time to give them a proper clean, to uncover the names in full and potentially use the information to gather more with a trip to the local library or a google search.

For now, you had to get to cleaning room by room so you could begin stripping and re-decorating where it needed it most.

“…The Sheriff’s office have released a statement today to calm locals calling for more action in the string of disappearances throughout town. Last Monday saw the latest in the line of disappearances, 29 year old store clerk, Andrew Walton, taking the total up to 12 missing in the last nine months. Mr Walton was last seen on CCTV heading into the alley of the 7/11 where he worked…”

The radio news bulletin caught your attention as you were working in the master bedroom, stripping the already peeling wallpaper from the panelled walls atop a stepladder. You’d only moved in three weeks ago, and yet, the little radio you always put on to work to kept churning out the same story consistently – the string of disappearances in town that seemed to be getting more and more frequent.  

It would seem it was the town with skeletons in the closet, not your precious new home. The estate agent failed to mention that one…

When you first heard about it, you’d made sure the house was secure, with locks on the windows, every entrance bolted and sturdy. Being so far outside of town, you weren’t particularly worried since you rarely ventured from your home, particularly not at night when most of these disappearances seemed to have taken place. But it didn’t hurt to be safe...

Still, the thought that there may be someone out there snatching people for God only knows what purpose was a little unsettling. You could only hope the sheriff would do his job and catch whoever was behind the crimes soon – but it had already been nine months… All you could do was lay low, stay as far away from the potential risks of heading into town alone in the dark.

As the lunchtime bulletin ended, the radio began to play one of the top 40 songs you’d heard at least three times already today. Whilst it was repetitive, you’d learned the words, and found yourself singing along as you scraped at patches of wallpaper residue with your little scraping tool. You lost yourself to easily in the renovation tasks, the monotony allowing for your brain to whisk you away to distant worlds, like shooting your own music videos to the songs as you sang along.

Drifting so far off into your own thoughts is probably the reason you hadn’t realised the radio had actually cut out completely, and it was just you singing and the sound of the metal scraper to fill the silence… The batteries had died.

“Ah, shit…” you mumbled to yourself, stepping off the ladder and reaching for the radio you’d placed on the window sill. Upon closer inspection, you made the definite conclusion that it was in fact the batteries, and sighed in annoyance. Of all the things you didn’t think you’d need for a while at least, you would now have to rummage around in the unemptied moving boxes that were still stockpiled in the dining room, filled with ‘random crap’ from your ‘random crap’ drawers – the drawers every home has… You just hadn’t renovated enough of the kitchen to have a ‘random crap’ drawer yet.

Digging through the boxes, you pulled a tape measure, a pack of four highlighters with two missing, six bank statements dated four years ago and a set of tiny little wrenches from the collection, until finally, you found a pack of unopened batteries at the bottom of the box.

You fumbled with them, rushing to get them out and replace the dead ones in the radio so you could get your music back and get back to work. Just as you pushed the second battery in, the radio roared to life again, startling you with a sudden gasp. Your heart raced in your chest as you chuckled at yourself, laughing at how stupid you’d been to have forgotten to turn it off before you pushed the new batteries in.

But a sudden and much more frightening crash from beneath you had you jumping again within seconds, your grip on the radio faltering as it flew to the ground, the new batteries flying out at the impact and drenching the room in silence again.

Your head flew immediately to the old door to your left, the one that led beneath the house to the basement…

You don’t know how long you stared at it, your heart rate never calming down as your mind raced with scenarios. An animal? Old house falling apart? Ghost? Psycho killer from town? You had no idea what to think.

But you lived alone. No noise should be coming from down in the damn basement.

You stared for so long, you began to question if you’d heard anything at all. Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you. But with a mental kick up the arse and a quick shake of the head to rid yourself of the fear, you marched over to the door to investigate like every stupid final girl in every horror movie you’d ever seen.

When you pulled on the string light, it buzzed and flickered before settling on a barely-there orange glow. Thankfully, it didn’t matter so much, the small windows in the house’s foundations letting in just enough light to deem the room visible. You could smell the must as you stepped down the wooden stairs, creaking under your feet as if some obnoxious special effects guy was dubbing the scene.

The movers had moved some of the restorable furniture you’d asked them to keep down here, stacking it in a far corner for you to come back to when you’d sorted the main structure and décor of the house. They were caked in a thick layer of dust, fingerprints from the movers clearly visible.

But nothing looked like it had fallen, there wasn’t anything broken or toppled over on the floor at all. The bang you’d heard had no source, that you could see. Even the cellar doors that led to the yard out back were still chained and bolted shut – you couldn’t blame it on a gust of wind, and upon first inspection, there was no sign of an animal somehow making its way inside either.

But to be sure, you walked through the clear space in the centre of the basement and over to the furniture pile of display cabinets, side tables, some chairs and a wardrobe you’d had moved from the master bedroom. It was one of your favourite pieces, that wardrobe. You planned to only clean it up and revarnish it, matching the ornate wood of the bed that had been kept pristine and you now used as your own. Even the mirrors on the door – oval shaped with dark ivy carved into the edges – were in fantastic condition. No scratches, just caked in a layer of dust like the rest.

A closer look proved there were no animals in the basement, no rodents or critters to try and ferry back outside. But what you did notice were the fingerprints on the brass handles of the wardrobe. Perhaps the movers had peaked inside – you hadn’t when you viewed the place. Maybe there were some old clothes still left behind from another decade?

Curiosity got the best of you, and you opened the door with a shriek of its hinges to find… nothing. The wardrobe was empty save for a few wire hangers that jingled with the opening of the door, and another layer of dust, albeit thinner, on the low shelf inside. But the dust was disturbed…

In the centre, there was a rectangle in the dust, as if it had been carefully wiped clean with absolute precision… It was about the size of a shoe box, but the dark grain of the wood stood out around the greyed and dulled wood surrounding it. Something had been in there for years, and had been removed…

Instantly, you blamed the movers. They’d gone nosing around and taken something they thought was valuable? Oh hell no. It got your back up immediately… You’d trusted these people, and they’d stolen from you? They’d be getting a phone call later.

Now pissed, you shut the door to the wardrobe a little harder than perhaps you should, the bang that sounded ricocheting off the stone walls of the basement.

That sounded like what you’d heard from upstairs.

You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it and instead looking up into the oval mirror of the door to check you’d left no damage to it.

But then you saw him. A man, in the dusty reflection standing in the far corner, the darkest spot of the basement. You could only see an outline, a silhouette. But one of his eyes seemed to gleam brighter than the other, the light perhaps hitting it just right. He was glaring at you, watching you intently in the dull reflection…

You shrieked, spinning in your place and slamming your back into the wardrobe behind you. Your chest heaved in panic, heart racing and breaths coming short and fast while your eyes searched the dimly lit corner and found nothing.

There was no man stood in the corner, nothing at all in fact. You were completely alone, your mind playing havoc on you in your heightened state of anxiety and anger. Even now, your heart was still hammering away, your lungs just beginning to regulate your breathing.

You straightened yourself up and wiped at your clothes that collected dust from the wardrobe when you’d slammed into it.

“Dumbass,” you mumbled to yourself, heading back upstairs quickly and slamming the basement door. You tried your best to shake off the anxiety, putting your batteries back into your radio and rushing back to the master bedroom to continue with the wallpaper scraping in the hopes it might put your mind back at ease. But for the rest of the day, you felt an anxiety you couldn’t shift, as if there truly was a man in the corner of every room you entered, glaring at you from the shadows.

It took a few days to get all the paper and residue off the walls in the master bedroom, careful not to mess with the panelling you wanted to sand down and keep as part of the décor. But for now, you could finally get onto stripping the paper in one of the other bedrooms, hoping to strip all of the paper from the upstairs in one go before getting around to sanding and replacing any panelling so you wouldn’t be spreading the dust into rooms you’d already finished and cleaned. There was method in your madness – strip everything down, sand, then clean.

The next biggest room upstairs had no furniture in it and was in the worst state, having been the room with the most extensive damage to the flooring and structural integrity. Builders had to replace the entire floor, and so had removed everything to do so. Apparently a leak in the roof – now fixed, of course – had caused irreparable water damage to the far corner, where they’d also removed the mouldy panelling and cleaned the remaining black mould properly and safely.

But now the rest of the room needed its paper stripped, so that’s where you found yourself. Your little radio blared the same station as always as you scraped away at the paper, making your way along the walls. It came off easier than the master bedroom, the damp of the room helping to already ease the adhesive from the plaster beneath.

As you moved to a section of the wall near the window, placing the stepladder on the floorboard, you heard one rattle beneath it. Having had the entire floor replaced, you’d assumed that every floorboard would be secured down. Perhaps the builders had missed one, but a few nails and you could fix that. So you moved the stepladder out of the way and crouched to inspect the plank that wobbled.

It had the holes in it where the nails should have been, and yet, there were no nails to hold it down… It was as if it had been secured and then pulled up again, except you couldn’t figure out why.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you pushed on one end of it to lift it from the structured beams beneath it. It opened up to a crawl space filled with fresh insulation and piping beneath the room. But when you pulled out your phone to flick on the flashlight, you noticed a rather out of place looking jewellery box had been hidden just to one side of the loose floorboard.

Instinct overruled you and you reached for it, pulling it from under the floorboard and wiping the dust from the top of it. It was a beautiful jewellery box, made of dark wood with an intricate baroque pattern carved into it and filled with some kind of gold resin. It had no lock on it, only a hook to keep its lid closed.

It made no sense to you… Why would this be under the floorboards when the floor was so new? Where had it come from? Should you open it?

And then your brain connected the dots. This box was the same shape, and a similar size to the disturbed dust inside the wardrobe in the basement. This had come from the wardrobe…

Logically, you concocted a story that maybe one of the builders had found it and wanted to hide it, come back for it later but forgot. But if they knew it was of value, surely they wouldn’t have forgotten it? And that patch in the wardrobe seemed too fresh, too pristine… Still, you had no other logical answer. You refused to believe it had magically found its way up from the basement and under the floorboards by itself – or even more horrifyingly, at the hands of someone else.

But you had to open it, right? You had to see what was inside, to see why someone would want to hide such a pretty little box at all. So you flicked the hook open, and slowly opened up the jewellery box…

You’d have to say you were disappointed. There were things in here, but nothing that screamed value at you, more like cheap and random items. There were some cuff links that you thought may have been silver, but were only sterling silver; a costume jewellery bracelet made of plastic pearls; a lipstick, worn down to within an inch of its life in a deep red shade; various little knick-knacks that together made absolutely no sense at all. The only thing that stood out to you as remotely unusual, was a watch.

This watch looked ordinary, something you’d pick up for cheap. It was broken, the glass cracked and the time clearly not moving on from 11:06 on the day it broke. It wasn’t branded, the clock face not diamond-incrusted or made of any real precious materials. But just under where the hands connected in the centre was a tiny little rotating set of numbers for a date, reading as 19/03/24 – just over a week ago. The watch had stopped working just over a week ago.

You couldn’t entertain this idea any longer. You stuffed the watch back into the box, slamming the lid closed and putting it back under the floorboards in the hope it might poof itself out of existence. You had to be imagining things, this wasn’t real. First, hearing noises down in the basement. Then, seeing the reflection of a man in the wardrobe mirror, only for him to disappear when you turned around. Now, finding a box of trinkets in the floorboards with items that were completely out of place for the time period of the old house.

You were being ridiculous, making up things that didn’t exist and had no significance at all. This must have been left by a builder, the battery being the reason it stopped, not the crack in the glass. There was just no way. No one had been by the house since you moved in besides the postman, and even he had quickly stuffed the mail into the mailbox at the end of your drive and run off quickly every time you caught him.

A creak in the floorboards in the hallway snapped you from your racing conspiracies, igniting your fight or flight response much like the noise in the basement the other day. This time you didn’t freeze, you stood up quickly and ran to the doorway to see if you could catch whatever was making the noise.

There he was again.

The same silhouette, a man stood in the hallway, backlit from the large window behind him and the sun streaming in through it. You couldn’t see his face properly, left in shadow but you could see those same eyes, glaring at you, watching to see if you would make a move…

Anger flared inside you, thinking you had an intruder in your home. You weren’t one to back down from a fight or go quietly. If this man was skulking around your house in broad fucking daylight, you were going to confront him.

“HEY! Who the fuck are you?!” you yelled from the doorway, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

The silhouette said nothing, instead stepping to the right through the door to your master bedroom. Without a second thought you ran towards the open doorway, grabbing the scraper from the floor where you’d set it down earlier as some kind of precautionary weapon.

“I said, get out of my-“ you stopped, frozen in fear. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, confusion replacing the rage inside you.

Nothing.

There was nobody in here. And you made damn sure to check… No one behind the door, no one in the en-suite, no one under the bed… No one.

You were losing your mind. You had to be. Perhaps you had spent too long alone in this old house, maybe you needed to socialise, head into town and meet some real people instead of chasing shadows. This wasn’t healthy, all this obsessive renovation work. This was your brain telling you you needed a break, right? It had to be that, because you could come up with no sound, logical explanation as to why you were seeing a shadow man roaming around your house other than madness. None of this was really happening, this was simply a descent into insanity caused by too much isolation.

At least, that’s what you told yourself to quiet the pounding heartbeat in your ears as the fear crept its way inside, burrowing deeper with every strange happening you seemed to experience.

A day off was all you’d needed, time out of the house to escape the need to be working, to essentially touch some grass and speak to another actual human being besides the shadow you’d conjured in your head. You’d gone into town, done some shopping, sat in a local coffee shop… You’d met a lovely older woman in there – Amelie, a widow and life-long resident – who’d welcomed you to town, so excited to have a fresh and pretty face to say hello to.

Although, she had warned you to head home before the sun set… That you should never walk alone in the evenings, and should lock your doors and windows at night.

“He likes the younger ones,” she’d told you. “I’m no good, you see… He likes them young.”

That had chilled you to the bone… Perhaps the mad ramblings of a woman hitting senility, but already on edge after the last few days at home, it seemed to strike a nerve. But nothing could have prepared you for the look on her face when she’d asked her where in town you had moved into, and you divulged it was the old farmhouse on the outskirts.

Her cheeks had sagged, smile dropping instantly. She shifted in the chair she’d taken at your table, straightening out the skirt of her dress over her knees and avoiding eye contact. And then she clutched her necklace in her fist – a gold crucifix – as she reached to take yours in her other hand.

“You must protect yourself, yes? That house… Something is there. You must be careful,” she told you, her voice as stern as she could make it to hide the tremble of fear.

“I-I’m okay, really… It just looks old, it’s overgrown and falling apart but I’m working on-“

“No!” she yelled, turning the heads of other patrons in the coffee shop. Her grip on your hand squeezed tighter, her nails digging into your hand painfully. “You should leave, before it’s too late. Such a pretty young thing, you shouldn’t be there…”

You pried her bony, arthritic fingers from around your hand and gently held hers in both of yours.

“I’m okay, Amelie. Please, don’t worry…” you comforted her, but she seemed dissatisfied, her eyes wide as she conceded.

That entire interaction had sat with you for the rest of the day as you’d wandered through the local farmer’s market, picking up fresh vegetables to turn into a casserole for one tonight. It shouldn’t have unnerved you the way it did, such an elderly woman was clearly suffering the effects of an ageing mind and yet, with the experiences of the last few days? Her warning unnerved you.

You headed home long before sunset, and locked the doors and windows like she’d told you to. Did it make you feel any better? Absolutely not… But as you pottered around in the kitchen making the casserole you’d planned, slowly the anxiety started to ease, helped mostly by the music on your little radio.

You ate in peace, scrolling through your phone while you tapped your foot on the tiled floor of the kitchen. You didn’t mind these lonely evenings so much, having grown tired of the bustling city long ago. These days, the quiet of your own company was quite welcome, easily sinking into your own little world.

Even as you stood at the sink, scrubbing at the dishes, you were in your own world, humming along to another overplayed song you’d heard time and time again. You’d find yourself staring out the window in front of you at the sunset, the sky painted pinks and oranges and casting a tranquil glow over the little graveyard out back. Dusk was quickly approaching, the night drawing in as you cleaned.

Just as you placed your plate on the drying rack beside you, you looked out again at the graves, now like silhouettes as the sky turned to a deeper shade of bluey purple. But your heart dropped, every hair on your body standing on end.

The shadow figure. The same shadow figure… Stood out by the graves, looking down at them with its back to you. He seemed to be wearing the same thing as last time you spotted him; slacks, a black coat made of heavy wool that just passed his knees. He was just standing, staring…

You froze in place, watching… You felt paralysed, like you’d spotted a large spider on the wall, staring at it to make sure it didn’t move out of sight because losing it was worse than staring in fear.

It didn’t move, just standing there, staring down.

A rush of anger hit you out of nowhere – this fucker was trespassing on your property, scaring you stupid. You’d locked this prick out when you’d come home, and so he thought it was okay to skulk around your land, trying to frighten you?

Fuck that. No. Enough of this.

You wiped your hands on the dish towel to the side, instinctively reaching for the biggest knife in your knife block on the counter before running to the back door. You unbolted the top and bottom, and ran out into the evening with a surge of adrenaline.

“HEY!” you yelled, like you had when you’d seen him in your hallway, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

The figure didn’t move, still staring down as you approached quickly from behind. You stayed back a few feet, clutching the knife in your hand and ready to use it should this fucker try anything…

“Answer me…” your voice shook with fear, no matter how hard you tried to keep it steady and strong. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing on my land?”

A dark chuckle… The shoulders of the figure shook with his laugh, and it only pissed you off more.

“Your land? Interesting…” the figure muttered, his voice thick with a heavy Italian accent and gruff like he hadn’t spoken aloud in decades.

“I-I’ll call the cops…” you threatened, “just leave and no one gets hurt.”

His head cocked up at that, turning to look over his shoulder. For the first time, you got a small glimpse at his face, and the eye that gleamed brighter than it should. He seemed to be smirking, as if this situation was somehow funny to him.

“You would hurt me, cara mio?” he teased, his eyes flitting down to the knife you held extended towards him. “I did not have you pegged for a violent woman.”

It caught you off guard, the way he spoke to you. Was he trying to belittle you? Make you question your own self-defense to weaken you? You wouldn’t let that happen.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him defiantly, ignoring his comments and still wielding the knife.

“Paying my respects,” he grumbled, as if he were annoyed by an intrusive question.

“Th-this is my property, and you need to leave. I’ve seen you in my house, and you need to go before I call the cops,” you repeated yourself, your voice shaking.

“Why did you buy this house?” he asked, frustratingly ignoring your warnings.

“None of your business-“

“It is my business,” he snapped, “This house belonged to my family,” he span on the spot, finally facing you. His expression was intimidating, his eyes – now visibly different colours – were boring into you, just begging you to try something. “These are their graves. This is their house. It does not, and will never, belong to you.”

“Well you might want to tell the bank that, Mr, uh…” his name escaped you, forgetting the surname that you’d uncovered weeks ago on the graves behind him.

“Emeritus,” he smiled sadistically. “Terzo Emeritus, and this house is mine.”

He took a step closer to you, and naturally you stepped back in fear. The grip on the knife readjusted with the second step he took, readying yourself to use it should you need to.

“But a pretty thing like you? I’m willing to share…”

“Don’t make another move…” you jabbed the knife forward a little, raising your voice in an attempt to appear threatening. “I know there’s some creep going around town, snatching people… And now you’re here, in MY house, threatening me?”

“I think I’m the one being threatened, cara mio…”

“SHUT UP!” you yelled. “Leave, now. Or I will call the fucking police.”

His hands, encased in leather gloves, shot up in a defensive pose, his smile widening sickeningly. He stopped approaching, but his morbidly beautiful eyes slowly scanned you from head to toe, taking you in, analysing. For a moment, you were locked in a stalemate, staring each other down. You thought maybe he was sizing you up, waiting for the opportune moment to strike like a predator hunting its prey.   

But instead of pouncing like you’d expected, he turned back around and knelt down before the graves.

“Penso che forse lei non è così affezionato a me come io sono di lei, non siete d'accordo? (I think maybe she is not as fond of me as I am of her, don’t you agree?)” he mumbled, as if the dead could hear every word. “Non temere, non lascerò che questa bellezza mi scaccia, i miei fratelli. Questa è casa nostra e imparerà a godere della mia compagnia. (Fear not, I will not let this beauty drive me away, my brothers. This is our house, and she will learn to enjoy my company.)”

“W-what did you say?” you stuttered, still wielding the knife. He looked briefly over his shoulder at you.

“Non vedevo tanta bellezza da più di un secolo, (I haven’t seen such beauty in over a century,)” he spoke to the graves again. “Non dal mio esilio e ritorno. (not since my exile and return.)”

You were growing more and more frustrated as he spoke his mother tongue to thin air, waiting for him to do something – even if that something were to force you to defend yourself. This was just… bizarre.

He stood again, kissing the tips of his gloves and pressing them to each headstone, save for one on the end. Why he missed that one, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. He seemed to be saying a goodbye, as if he were actually going to leave upon your request.

“Until next time, bella cosa (pretty thing),” he bowed his head a little and began to walk towards you, giving you a wide berth but keeping his eyes trained on you at all times. You figured he was simply making sure you didn’t try to stab him as he passed, walking himself out of the gates of your land and a little ways down the street before he turned back to you, and blew you a slow, calculated flying kiss.

As he continued to walk away down the lane that stretched towards town, you quickly glanced back at the graves, noting now that the names did indeed all share a common family name.

Primo Emeritus. Secondo Emeritus. Copia Emeritus. Terzo Emeritus.

Your eyes widened. You were sure that was the name he just told you belonged to him? That wasn’t possible… Such an unusual name, and he’d made no mention of being a ‘Terzo Junior’, or ‘Terzo the second’. And it was the only grave he didn’t plant his kiss to…

You span around in the grass beneath your feet, looking out down the lane you’d just seen him walking down and yet, he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t in the fields that lined the lane into town, and the road stretched with no bends for at least two miles, no obstructions at all. You should be able to still see him walking, running even if he had chosen to. He hadn’t had time to vanish like he had, in mere seconds.

Your head whipped back to the grave – his grave? – before you shook your head of the nonsense that he might well be some kind of spirit who can appear or disappear in the blink of an eye. These ‘occurrences’ were nothing more than fuel for a spooky story around a campfire. None of this was true, you’d just… lost sight of him, or misjudged the view of the road. Something, anything, had to explain this away.

But it didn’t stop you from bolting back through the garden and into the kitchen, slamming the door behind you with the knife still in hand and bolting the door shut, heart thumping in your ears.

You slept with that knife under your mattress that night.

His face haunted you, both day and night. No matter what you did, or how you tried to refocus your mind, to fixate on only your renovations, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. In the few days since the incident by the graves, you were questioning your sanity more than ever.

Had that even been real? Was he real? He couldn’t possibly be… The way he disappeared in an instant every time you saw him led you only to the conclusion that you’d lost your mind, officially. You must have concocted this spectre after seeing his name on the grave when you’d cleared the landscaping around them. You told yourself that over and over again.

That became harder to do though, when you’d spot him out by the graves again not even a week after the first time. You’d been installing some small curtains to the window by the kitchen sink for you to hide the site from view when you’d spooked yourself at the mere thought of that night, and yet there he was again.

You stared in shock, frozen and motionless, as he turned his head towards the house, looking it up and down, before his gaze settled on you in the window. He raised his hand, but before he could gesture a wave at you, you shut the new curtains and obscured his view, darting out of the kitchen and hiding in the dining room still full of packed boxes.

Your heart pounded as it always did when your imagination ran away with you and spooked you like this. You shook your head, told yourself to snap the fuck out of it.

But then you saw him every evening.

Always by the graves, always turning to wave at you, no matter from which window you were watching him from. You did your best to hide, to ignore it and tell yourself he wasn’t real. You just had to keep going, to continue your work and maybe find a good psychologist in town one of these days.

This plan of wilful ignorance was barely working, but what else could you do? Giving this apparition any kind of attention would surely only make it worse, whether he was a figment of your imagination or a genuine ghost from the past.

Ignoring him was hard. There was such a large part of you that wanted more information about him, to learn where he’d come from, why he haunted you. He was intriguing, if terrifying. The face that followed your dreams, both day and night, was starting to become all too familiar, all too comfortable. If it weren’t for that ghostly white eye of his, he’d have quite a charming face. His glare wouldn’t seem so dark if it wasn’t pierced by the white glow, and perhaps he wouldn’t be so threatening… Home invasion and grave haunting aside.

Still, you did your best to continue as normal. The renovations continued, and before long you had stripped every room upstairs of the aged and withered wallpaper that desperately needed replacing. Finally, you could start decorating to your own tastes – starting with your bedroom.

After a trip to the nearest hardware store, and a delivery of wooden slats, you got busy creating the wainscoting that was to run along the bottom three feet of the wall in your bedroom. The idea was to panel it, and then paint everything a beautiful deep shade of royal purple. The hardwood floor was going to be stained a dark shade throughout the entire upstairs, but you’d managed to source a stunning Persian rug in a purple that matched the aesthetic you were hoping for. The furniture – the items you’d had moved to the basement – were already perfect for the room, matching the bed that had also been left behind. You’d chosen gold metal accents to replace the handles on the wardrobe and chest of drawers, and sourced lamps and trinkets in the same gold to match.

After no longer than a week, you’d completed the room with a mix and match of modern and Victorian gothic aesthetics. Frankly, it looked like a Pinterest board – but it was so inherently you.

When you’d laid the finishing touches to the room, you stood in the middle of it, proudly looking around with a wide grin on your face at the beautifully finished space. That estate agent couldn’t see the potential of this house, but you had the second you stepped foot inside. And whilst it was only one room, the rest of the house still just the bare skeletal bones of a home, this was a huge victory.

“I like what you’ve done with my bedroom, bella cosa (pretty thing).”

Your body stiffened at the sound of his voice, coming from the doorway behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and willing for the nightmare to stop. You hadn’t heard him, you were imagining it. You had to be.

Except, you heard footsteps behind you, on the hardwood floors. His shoes clacked with every step, slow and deliberate as if he was taking in his surrounding, inspecting your work. When you braved opening your eyes, that’s exactly what he was doing.

He really was here.

“Grazie for keeping my furniture, cara mio. I was always fond of it, and you’ve given it new life,” he said, ogling the wardrobe as he dragged his gloved fingertips along the edge of the wood.

“And purple, too…” he span on his heels to face you, a warm smile crossing his dark features, “My favourite colour.”

“How did you get in here?” you asked, voice shaking as you watched him look around the room.

“I told you, cara, this was my house. I know every entrance and exit there is,” his mismatched eyes settled on you again, “even the ones you don’t.”

He was lying. There were only three ways in or out of the house, and they were all locked – bolted, latched, even the cellar doors in the basement were chained shut.

“This is not your house,” you argued, spitting the words through grit teeth. “You need to leave. I will call the police.”

His eyes darkened again, a veil of threat overcoming him.

“And I told you, this has always been my house.”

You weighed your options. Your phone was on the kitchen counter downstairs; if you were fast enough, you could run down to it and out the back door before he caught you, calling the police as you ran along the road into town. If you didn’t fuck it up, you could even lock him in, taking the key from the back door and locking it shut behind you, leaving him gift wrapped for the cops.

You just had to be quick.

And you tried, you really did. You bolted out of the bedroom, running down the length of the long hall towards the top of the stairs. You hadn’t heard him behind you, his shoes making no noise behind you and so you imagined he’d been left stunned by your sudden departure, giving you a head start.

So you hadn’t expected a pair of large, strong hands to grip you by the tops of your arms at the top of the stairs, and slam your body into the wall. A sharp pain radiated up through your spine, but you cried out in fear more so than pain when you realised he’d trapped you, palms flat against the wall by your head and arms encasing you.

Instinct had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut and waiting for the next blow, or for this nightmare to end. You could feel a cool breeze against your cheek as you turned your head away from the man trapping you, as if his breath were ice cold.

“Look at me, cara mio,” he ordered, his voice deep and slow. You whimpered beneath him, trying to plant yourself flat against the wall to get as far away from him as possible. “Per favore, I want to see you.”

You wanted to deny him, but his silence said he’d wait for an eternity until you did. And you didn’t want to find out just how aggressive he could be, if given the chance. So slowly, you opened your eyes, looking at him through your peripheral vision before you turned your head ever so slightly.

His face was so close to yours, hovering above you. His eyes flickered across your features, like he was looking for something, or maybe mapping every feature and committing it to his memory for some nefarious reason.

This close to him, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same… You avoided his eyes, noting instead how his skin seemed pale for an Italian man, but soft and smooth without a single imperfection. His jawline was chiselled, like you’d cut your palm if you tried to slap him. He had frown lines in his forehead that came with a life of frustration, yet forked lines from the outer corners of his eyes that came with a life of happiness; neither made him look haggard, yet showed he wasn’t quite as youthful as you.

Despite his pale complexion, his lips remained a soft pink. They were full, parted as you both silently examined each other up close. That breeze you felt was most definitely his breath, which you’d expected to be warmer but given the situation, perhaps it was your fear adding to the chill.

Running out of features to scan, you landed on his eyes; the eyes that haunted you more than any you’d seen. At first glance, the colour mismatch was disconcerting. It would put anybody on edge, perhaps make them wonder if he’d fallen victim to some kind of accident or birth defect but the more you stared, the more you fell into them. You couldn’t place why, but they seemed older than the rest of his features, holding more wisdom than you might have expected.

“Are you real?” you asked him, logic and reason battling against the very real fear that you were imagining him, that he was some kind of spirit that haunted his family home you’d never be rid of. But you’d felt him. His hands had been the ones to throw you against this wall, his body was imposing on yours as he trapped you. He was solid, flesh and blood. But there was an innate and visceral fear that something was wrong.

At your question, his eyes met yours, and his lips quirked into a playful smile.

“I am very real, cara mio,” he assured, taking his hand from beside your head and wrapping his gloved fingers around your wrist. He lifted your palm, gently laying it flat against his chest. “Can you not feel me?”

You could. He was solid, like you’d now discovered and you could feel his heartbeat beneath his shirt. Still, something felt wrong. He had no body heat like a normal living man through a simple cotton shirt should, and the heartbeat you felt was significantly slower than it should be.

“Who are you?” you whimpered, palm to his chest without even an attempt to remove it.

“I told you who I was. Terzo Emeritus.”

“J-junior?” you asked him. His brow creased in confusion, missing what you were asking entirely. “Terzo Junior? The grave, it… it says Terzo.”

Now he understood, sensing your confusion and chuckling lightly at it.

“Just Terzo,” he told you, gentle grip still on your wrist. You could pull your hand away if you tried, and yet, you kept it in place as if his own slow heartbeat was somehow reducing your own to a more comfortable pace.

You were at a loss for words now, brain running far too quickly to settle on something suitable to say to him. But at least now you had grown aware of your palm still settled on his chest, prompting you to rip it from his grip expecting him to put up some kind of resistance, to which you met none.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him, unable to tear your eyes from him in the same manner you’d torn your wrist from him.

“Perhaps only your company,” he shrugged slightly, raising an eyebrow in suggestion. “To exist with you, here.”

“This is my house…”

“Sí, so you keep saying.” A beat of silence passed as you thought of what he was truly asking, what that even meant.

“I want you to stay away from me,” you insisted, finding a shred of strength within you. Terzo took in a deep breath through his nose, letting it go as he studied you.

“I don’t think I can do that, cara mio,” he sighed. His admission had tears forming in your waterline, a new fear that you wouldn’t be able to shake this man’s seemingly growing obsession with you. All you wanted was peace, solitude and an escape but you’d fallen into a web, and the spider was crawling towards you agonisingly slowly.

You took a few deep breaths, each exhale shaky. You just wanted him to go, to leave you alone. Maybe this had been his house once before, but it was yours now, and he couldn’t stay here. He already seemed infatuated with you, if the way he looked at you now was anything to go by. His eyes drank you in like he was a starving man, and you were the ripest of fruits for him to devour.

“Please, I just want to be left alone…” you begged, tilting your head back against the wall and letting the tears fall as you squeezed your eyes shut, suppressing a sob in your chest.

Silence descended, and suddenly the weighted oppression of his presence vanished with a swift breeze. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel he wasn’t entrapping you anymore but when you opened them, you saw he wasn’t anywhere near you at all.

He’d vanished again, faster than a snap of your fingers.

And you were left wondering if any of that, once again, was real or a fantasy of your own making. You were so sure you felt a solid body, a real heartbeat. You weren’t a scientist, nor a paranormal specialist but you would assume if he was the spirit of the man buried in your back yard, you wouldn’t be able to feel him in such a way.

But now he had vanished, the feeling he left with you felt very much like an oppressive presence, a lingering energy. Now he left you with the anxiety of another visit without warning, another appearance to trick you into believing your delusions were true.

You expected to see him again.

Another week passed, a surface layer of anxiety lingering persistently. All you could do was focus your attention on your project, doing your absolute best to continue as normal. Now you had finished the master bedroom, you moved onto the upstairs bathroom, which had needed gutting and refitting.

You’d had a small team of plumbers in to replace the pipes through the house just as you had electricians to rewire the place before you’d moved in, and until now, all you’d had was the bare bones of a shiny new bathroom. You’d installed some counters with a new sink, the gold hardware matching around the bathroom. The marble top was a beautifully tasteful black with gold veins to match the black wood of the cabinets.

Even in here, you stuck to your darker aesthetic. The walls were painted a beautiful matte black, the floor tiled with black and white squares. It took you all week, two of those days on tiling alone. But it was something to focus on, a room that you knew would be frequently used and so needed to be finished now your bedroom was complete.

When it came to adding the finishing touches, it felt like the cherry on top of another beautifully made cake. Your house was quickly turning into a showroom, a place that could be featured in home renovation magazines had you been willing to open it up.

But already, you’d had one too many visitors in your home for your liking…

By the end of the week, you were exhausted – more so than usual. The anxiety of feeling watched, monitored, stalked was taking its toll on you, and you needed some respite. For all you knew, Terzo Emeritus could show up at any moment to frighten, repulse and excite you. It was weighing heavy, and your mind was just as spent as your body was.

As you headed to bed that evening, you allowed yourself some self-care in the bathroom you’d now finished. The point of renovating this house was to enjoy it, right? So why deny yourself that…

You filled the new clawfoot tub with hot water, brimming with bubbles and scents that had you falling into a state of total calm before you’d even sunk into it. Your tiny little radio joined you in the bathroom, tuned to a station that played nothing but classical, and on a bath shelf you’d bought you rested some candles, a book and a full glass of red wine to enjoy as you pampered yourself.

Sinking into the water, you relished in the feeling of being submerged in its warmth. Almost instantly, the tension in your shoulders melted away, eyes closing in bliss as your head slipped back to rest against the tub’s edge. You couldn’t help but let out a hum of satisfaction, the relief and pleasure accumulating in a soft moan.

As you let your body relax, a noise caught your attention; a floorboard, creaking just outside of the bathroom door. Your eyes shot open, your body reacting and freezing in place. However when you let your eyes roam over to the mirror above the bathroom sink, you saw him…

By force of habit, you’d left the bathroom door ajar, a small gap just large enough to be able to see that ghostly eye of his in the dim hallway, and the outline of him peeking through the door. Your heart rate hammered in your chest as it always did when you saw him, but you remained still. For now, he wasn’t making any kind of move, and he didn’t seem to be aware you had seen him.

But he was definitely there, watching you as you bathed. It was violating, invasive, perverse… And yet, you did nothing about it.

Instead, you sank further underneath the bubbles, reaching for your wine glass with your eyes trained on the mirror. You took a sip, relishing in the taste and releasing another satisfied moan as if putting on a damn show for him. What possessed you to do so, you had no idea, but he’d been tormenting your mind for weeks now – why couldn’t you do the same to him?

Reaching for your loofah, you dunked it under the water and sat upright, back exposed to him. You stretched your arm out, running the loofah along your skin in a slow and deliberate manner. You were careful to never expose yourself too much, but to tease with the expanse of pretty, bare skin to conjure enough suggestion in his mind that would leave a man desperate to see more.

When you ran the loofah up the length of your leg just above the water, you heard the floorboards creak again, like he was fidgeting on the other side of the door. You checked in the mirror to see if he was still there, and he most certainly was, but you were having the effect on him you hoped for.

Perhaps you stretched it out a little longer than necessary, running the loofah over your body more than needed but you were making your point. Your wicked little mind was ticking over, aware he could only see what you wanted him to; your shoulders and head above the bubbles from behind. Do you dare to cross the line…?

Perhaps the thrill of being watched was having an effect on you too, because you came to the conclusion that yes, you did dare to cross the line.

You lay back against the tub again, using the loofah now to run across your shoulders and down between the valley of your breasts, which the bubbles were barely covering in your relaxed position. You trailed the loofah further down, reaching over your stomach and between your legs.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you brushed the loofah over your core, now realising that washing yourself so intimately – and being watched while doing so – had aroused you more than you’d first thought. A flash of pleasure had you squeezing your eyes shut again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grazing over your centre with added pressure, hips rocking in the water.

Before long, you abandoned the loofah all together, and from where he was stood, Terzo could see it float and bob up to the surface which had him drawing only one conclusion; you were definitely not just washing yourself.

You worked slowly, methodically. It had been so long since you’d let go like this, since you’d last touched yourself at all and you wanted to savour it, to enjoy it. You were in no rush, working your fingers in gentle and slow circles over your clit under the water. The moans that you let slip weren’t at all restrained or controlled; for all you knew, you were alone, right? So why would you hold back?

 It was impossible not to keep checking the mirror, to make sure he was still there and every time, he was. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run away with you, picturing him entering the room, kneeling down beside the tub and reaching his hand between your legs for you. You pictured him taking you from the bathroom, into the bedroom and having his way with you, dark, handsome and brooding as he always had been.

You imagined his hands beneath his gloves, his bare fingertips tracing patterns into your skin, his full lips trailing kisses down your still wet body. What did he look like under those layers of his? How would he feel under your own fingertips? How would he feel inside you?

But Terzo made no such move. Instead, he watched silently from the shadows, and each time you caught that glimpse of him your hips bucked towards your hand until eventually, you couldn’t hold back anymore and allowed yourself to fall over the precipice.

Your orgasm was powerful, thanks to not only the lack of self love recently, but also, the arousal of becoming an exhibitionist. It rippled through your body like the water around you, and had you crying out wordlessly as you sank further into the water up to your chin. You hadn’t felt so good in a long time, and it worked perfectly to relieve the remainder of that tension in your body.

As you came down from the orgasm, you dared to glance back at the mirror only to find that he’d vanished. Another little disappearing act, only this time, you found yourself free of the anxiety that usually came with that, and instead smug with the knowledge you might have got one over on him for a change. You’d teased him to a point that he couldn’t tear his eyes from you until it was over, and for a moment you felt truly powerful. At least, if he were real… and not a fantasy you’d concocted for yourself. There was still the very real possibility that all of this was just your own madness and loneliness, and you were just now starting to lean into the delusions as a form of self-preservation.

For a little while longer, you stayed put in the tub, enjoying your book, the rest of your wine and the music in the background. Of course, you kept checking on the mirror to see if maybe he’d return for another look, but nothing. It was twisted, the way your stomach drooped in disappointment each time, but you brushed it off. You were sure before long, you would see him again – whether real or fictional.

Once you had finished in the bathroom, draining the tub and rinsing the suds away, you floated back into your bedroom wrapped in a bathrobe and ready to sink into bed with your book. You pottered around, changing into some pyjamas and crawling under the sheets when a glimpse of colour caught the light beside your bed, earning your attention.

Hanging from your bedside lamp was a pendant, and most certainly not one of yours. They were stored in a jewellery box atop the dresser, not hung on display like this… but it was beautiful, and you reached over to lay the charm in your palm and inspect it properly.

It was simple, yet elegant. The charm was shaped like a water drop, except the stone was purple; perhaps amethyst or a rarer sapphire but it caught the light exceptionally. Surrounding it, were smaller stones that resembled diamonds, but your knowledge of precious stones couldn’t confirm whether they were in fact real, or if this were costume jewellery. It didn’t matter though, it was beautiful as it was, sparkling under your bedside lamp.

You had no idea how it got here, but you could hazard a guess. It had been left for you like a gift, delicately placed in a position that would get your attention. There was only one person it could have come from, and as you played with the unusual pendant under the light, you began to realise that maybe he wasn’t the figment of your imagination you were trying to pass him off as…

The next morning, you had a revived energy, a spring in your step from a decent night’s sleep. The time spent on self care seemed to do the job, relieving the stress enough for you to be ready to tackle the downstairs living room next. Truthfully, your new found vigour may have also had something to do with a large part of you giving in to the idea that Terzo was not a fantasy, he’d been very real this whole time.

You still had no idea who he was, or how he was a real person. You were beginning to think that perhaps spirits did walk the earth, just by how he seemed to appear and disappear on a dime. But you remembered the heartbeat, the solid chest under your palm…

There were so many questions. Who was he? A descendant of the family this house once belonged to, and rested in your garden? How does he keep getting in? He mentioned entrances you might not know about, but you’d searched thoroughly, or so you thought. Was he obsessed with you? Stalking you?

Was he dangerous?

His behaviour was most definitely shady – people don’t just come and go in other people’s homes as they please. But you’d never reported him, no matter how much you’d threatened it. To begin with you’d hoped the threat of calling the cops would be enough to deter him, but he always came back. And at every opportunity, he could have done something to hurt you, yet never did. Even last night, you were in a completely vulnerable position. And whilst peeping on you in the bath was absolutely a violation and a crime in itself, all he did was watch. And you let him.

His existence was confusing, but you’d surrendered to the notion that he did in fact exist; and honestly, that in itself was quite freeing. It felt like some kind of weight had lifted, and it made beginning work on the living room easier to stomach.

This room had suffered in the years the house sat in decay. The old windows had made way for black mould to grow around it, and whilst you’d had the windows replaced since, the mould was still present. Your first job was to clean the walls and potentially replace some of the floorboards, if the moisture had taken hold of the wood.

Armed with a bucket of diluted bleach and a sponge, you got to work scrubbing at the walls and the large window sill that you were planning to convert into a cosy nook; a perfect place to sit and watch the world go by, book in hand. Your little radio sat on the mantelpiece of the stunning fireplace you were going to bring back to life, blaring out the same cycle of tunes you were used to now you’d tuned it back from the classical of last night.

You let yourself zone out as you scrubbed at the mould, singing along to the radio now you knew most of the songs blaring from it. It was a wonder you weren’t sick of them yet, but you still hadn’t got around to unpacking your record player that was supposed to have a home in this particular room. First, you had to finish it though, of course.

As one song ended, the radio host announced a lunchtime bulletin. By this time you were only half listening, fixated on the satisfying cleaning job.

“It’s 1pm, you’re listening to 108.3fm – here’s your lunchtime bulletin. Police have made a shocking discovery after the disappearance of 25 year old Amanda Riley just three days ago.”

Your ears perked up at the news, now getting your attention. Another one? This was concerning, terrifying even. And now they’d made a discovery?

“Human remains were discovered just outside of town in a wooded area yesterday, which police have now confirmed are that of Amanda. Family members formally identified the body, and police have given a statement to locals urging caution and vigilance. Sheriff Ansel had this to say…

“‘We believe Ms. Riley’s murder to be connected to the string of disappearances in the area in the last few months. The victim was found with all her personal belongings still on her person, including wallet, cash, ID and mobile phone, however when the family came to formally identify the body, they noted that the only thing taken from her was her unusual pendant…’”

Your blood turned cold. The hand still scrubbing at the wall froze in place, and slowly, you turned to look at the radio as if it was speaking directly to you.

“‘The pendant is recognisable as a purple amethyst in a teardrop shape, surrounded by smaller white diamonds. While the item is valuable, we believe that the killer may have taken such a personal item as a trophy, which could be part of their M.O. Still, we are urging the public to please keep an eye out to see if we can trace this item, either in pawn shops or perhaps being sold online. We ask that you not panic, and please get in touch if you note anything suspicious. Thank you.’”

Your hand dropped the sponge back into the bucket of diluted bleach, drifting up to your chest where that very same pendant was sat against your skin. You’d put it on that morning, barely even thinking about it, just because you liked it.

But he’d given it to you. Left it out in the open for you, like he was proud of it. He’d given you a dead girl’s fucking necklace. And there was only one way he could have got it…

You stood up, running into the kitchen and colliding with the sink before your body displayed it’s disgust by vomiting violently. All those unanswered questions, and yet, one of them had been answered.

Who was he? A murderer.

As you coughed and spluttered your breakfast into the sink, your mind raced. She wasn’t the only missing person, just the first body to have been found. There were others. So many others, for nine months. Thirteen missing people, one of which found dead with this fucking necklace missing.

You felt dizzy, like a wave of vertigo hit you in an instant. You hobbled over to the fridge, clutching at the kitchen counter to keep yourself steady and rooting around for a bottle of water. Your hands shook as you unscrewed the lid, taking a sip to rinse out your mouth as you stumbled back to the sink to spit. You took another sip, this time swallowing and trying your best to focus on the sensation of the cool water trickling down your throat. But your head was too busy.

Trophies. He was taking trophies? Why? This sick bastard must enjoy it, he must relish in his kills, wanting something to remember each one by. What else had he taken…? And then you remembered.

The box under the floorboards.

You slammed the water bottle down on the side, a jet propelling out onto the work surface from the force. Before you knew it your feet were moving of their own accord, up the stairs and down the hall. You were unsteady, tripping into the walls as you walked. You needed to know, but you didn’t want to.

Stumbling into the bare room, you fell to your knees with a hard smack where the floorboard was loose. Shaking hands lifted the plank, reaching underneath to check the box was still there; it was. You pulled it from its hiding place setting it down on the floor while you racked up the courage to open it again.

In one quick motion, you unlocked the latch and flung the lid open like ripping off a band aid. All the items were still there, just the way you’d left them, including the watch that had made you question them in the first place. It looked like it could have been vintage, save for the date wound to March of this year.

You looked at the collection of random items; the watch, the cuff links, the old red lipstick, the cheap bracelet, a skeleton key, a tiny used bottle of perfume, a red comb, an old butterfly hairpin, a daisy pin badge, a rusty swiss army knife, a fountain pen and a vintage zippo lighter.

Twelve items.

With the necklace, that made thirteen. Thirteen items. Thirteen victims. Thirteen trophies.

“I should have hidden them better, eh?”

The sound of his voice had your body stiffening in fear, skin instantly peppered with goosebumps. You hadn’t even begun to think about confronting him or having to see him. You weren’t sure what you were going to do yet, but you’d have hoped to have time to calm yourself down and think rationally about your options.

But you were going to have to do this ad-hoc.

“I don’t often make mistakes, bella cosa, but when I do… They haunt me. I suppose my kindness is coming back to bite me on the culo (ass).”

He sounded surprisingly calm for a man who’d just been found out to be a serial killer. It unnerved you, and no part of you could figure out his next move. You were a sitting duck.

Slowly, and carefully, you stood up, turning around to look at him. Part of you worried if you startled him with sudden movement, he might strike like any predator would its prey.

He was stood in the doorway, leaning up against the wood with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks, coat pushed back behind them. He looked far too casual, his face hinting at neither anger nor humour – nowhere on the emotional spectrum.

“Kindness?” you asked, ruminating over his use of the word. “There’s no kindness in what you’ve done.” Perhaps it was dangerous to speak so ill of the murderer in front of you, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His neutral expression darkened in a warning glare, his chin tipping up so he was looking down on you, adding to his intimidating aura.

“Not everybody deserves kindness, cara mio. Some deserve far less,” he challenged, pushing himself off the doorframe and taking slow steps into the room, keeping a distance from you still.

“No one deserves that…”

Terzo scoffed, looking off to gaze out of the window and shaking his head as if what you said offended him in some way.

“So now you know,” he shrugged, looking back towards you, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. You kept an eye on them, mind racing with all kinds of possibilities – he could have a weapon of some sorts hidden from view. You needed to be on your guard. “I suppose you will report me now, sí?”

There was a playful glint in his eyes that you didn’t miss, like he was taunting you, waving a red flag to a bull. If you said you were, would he attack you too? But surely he couldn’t simply take your word for it if you said you wouldn’t either… Truthfully, you weren’t sure what you were going to do. Your only instinct was to run – fast.

You let his question linger in the air, far too much silence going by as he watched you, assuming you’d frozen in fear. He hadn’t expected you to dart towards the door, your only goal to get downstairs and out of the house as quickly as possible. So when you did exactly that, he watched for a split second, anger snapping inside him.

You barely made it out of the room before you felt a sudden force slam you forwards and into the wall of the corridor. A scream erupted from your chest, blood-curdling and gut-wrenching to anyone who would have heard it – but out here? No one would. How he’d moved so fast, you had no idea, but he had both of your wrists behind your back, and his whole body weight held you tightly against the wall.

“You are leaving so soon?” he asked, leaning in to speak directly in your ear as you writhed under him to try and escape, but his grip was too strong even without him putting seemingly any effort into it. “I was just getting used to you living in my house…”

“This is MY house,” you growled, gritting your teeth and avoiding his eyes.

“Then why should you want to leave? Are you scared I might hurt you, cara mio?”

Tears spilled from your waterline, giving away your fear and distress. Of course you were scared he was going to hurt you. He’d already hurt so many…

When he received no answer from you other than a sob in defeat and the stilling of your limbs as you gave up fighting his grip, he manhandled you until you span around, your back now against the wall just like it had been the other day.

“Th-this isn’t real… You’re not real…” you whispered to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in the hopes you might wake up from your nightmare. You did not.

“I’m quite real, cara. We’ve been over this, no?” he lifted your wrist again like he had the other day, this time settling your hand delicately on his cheek and holding it there with his much bigger palm. “See?”

His gentility confused you, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a strange softness in his face. For a moment, you almost thought his expression was one of admiration. It didn’t matter what it was, but you couldn’t look away. This man – this serial killer – was being so gentle with you, his eyes cast over you like he was utterly obsessed with you.

“Why?” you whispered, more tears spilling over your cheeks. Still, you held his, despite his grip on your hand lessening ever so slightly. You wanted to understand, talk him down maybe just enough to let you go. You wanted to appeal to the softness you saw in him.

“I have no choice,” he said flatly, almost with a hint of shame. But that only crossed the wires in your mind more.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I choose them carefully… They are not good people, cara. They have ruined others lives, even taken them and I-“ he stopped himself, looking down at the floor in shame. Your brows creased together, trying to piece your thoughts into coherency.

“It’s always a choice,” you started to argue back, softly so as not to raise any more rage within him in such a precarious position such as the one you found yourself in beneath him. But his head snapped back up nonetheless, his hand gripping onto yours and throwing it back down beside you. He kept you caged beneath him still, hands planted firmly on the wall.

“I assure you, bella ragazza (pretty girl), there is no choice. It is me or them.”

Slowly, he raised his head from where he’d stared at the floorboards between your feet. His eyes watched you closely as he tilted his head back a little, and his lips parted until you could clearly see two very white, very sharp fangs protruding from under his top lip.

For a moment you didn’t react at all, calculating what you were seeing. His hands hadn’t moved, so he hadn’t put them in himself. You’d seen him so many times, and up close too, and never saw them before… They had to be real. He had fangs.

“That’s impossible…” you whispered, “there’s no such thing as-“

“Vampires?” he finished your sentence for you, “I’m sorry to shatter your illusion of a perfect world, cara mio, but I can assure you, there certainly is.”

Finally, your survival instincts kicked in, adrenaline pumping through your veins almost in an instant. You shoved your hands against his chest and pushed with all the strength you had, trying to get him away from you, to preserve yourself. All this time you had felt like prey, and it had been instinct all along. You were prey.

Your shove did nothing. He remained unmoving, like stone encasing you against the wall. You thrashed your arms around, trying to escape him but it was completely useless. You were already trapped, and at the mercy of a real vampire.

“I’m sorry, cara mio, but you will not overcome my strength nor my speed. This is useless, I assure you.” His voice had no hint of patronising, instead of genuine sorrow. It felt as if he knew he had to kill you now, but he didn’t want to kill you. You gave up, your fists balling up against his chest as you lay your head back against the wall, out of breath and sobbing as you accepted your fate.

“Please… don’t kill me, Terzo…” you wept, head lolling forward to look into his eyes for what you thought might be the last time.

His brow was creased, his lips parted in horror as he looked back at you. He raised his gloved hand and wiped at the tracks on your cheek. “I don’t wish to kill you, cara mio… You understand, no? I must kill to stay alive, but not you – never you.”

You barely registered what he was saying before you were shooting questions at him again, needing to know more, to understand why he chose those people. Why he kept their trophies…

“Why them? Why did you choose them? They were innocent, just like me. Why did they deserve that?” you sobbed, your chest heaving as he held your cheek, still caging you against the wall.

“The girl they found? What the polizia (police) don’t know is she was behind the wheel of an intentional hit and run a few years ago. The store clerk a few weeks back? You do not want to see what was on his hard drive. All of them, vile humans. There is more evil in this world than you could possibly fathom, tesoro. They even tasted different…” he shrivelled his face in disgust, “but it keeps me alive, and my conscience semi-clear.”

The shock of his revelation did nothing to help your racing heart or foggy mind, processing everything far slower than you would like in this tumultuous situation.

“Suppose that was true, why do you keep their things?” you prodded further – there must be some part of him that enjoys it. Even if only the fact he were proud of removing scum from the earth, if that were true.

“Because I carry their souls with me… No matter how evil, they are people, and I take their life. Each one is a burden, and I must never forget that.”

There was genuine sorrow, genuine regret there. You could see it. But it changed nothing, he was still a murderer, a monster. And you were still trapped underneath him, literally backed up against a wall and inches away from deadly threat.

“But… it’s sick, Terzo! They’re kept like trophies, like you’re proud of what you do to them!” you protested. He hollowed his cheeks in annoyance, becoming more defensive as you accused him.

The hand that wiped your tears lowered to your neck, his fingertips tracing along the chain of the necklace you had yet to take off, until it reached the unusual pendant, where he played with it against your collarbone.

“And yet, you still wear it. You had time to take it off, if you were so disgusted by it. But here it is, looking so pretty around your… beautiful neck,” he sighed, his eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin he so clearly wanted to puncture and drink from. The fear in you started to rise again, your pulse that had just started to settle raising. More hot tears fell over your waterline as you took a deep, shaky breath.

“What… what do you want from me?” you pleaded, your voice trembling and squeaky. His eyes flickered up to yours, fingertips still playing with the pendant, grazing the skin so gently it left goosebumps. You would never admit to the thrill his touch seemed to be giving you, knowing what you know of him now.

But Terzo leaned in further, his hips meeting yours and pressing you further against the wall. The hand that had been keeping you caged against the wall all this time dropped to your waist, holding you just enough to send a wave of curious gratification through your abdomen. He was close enough that your noses would touch, should he tip his head down to you. You could feel his icy breath against your face again – a symptom of his state of undead, you now understood.

“I want you to love me, tesoro…” he confessed in a whisper, watching for your reaction.

“I only fear you,” you defied, unable to admit the curiosity his request sparked.

“Are they not the same?” His eyebrow arched up in question, waiting for your response. But honestly, you had none. You were dumbfounded, wondering what on earth he meant by that. Of course they weren’t the same, nothing about love and fear are the same. The attraction you had felt towards him in recent encounters was fleeting; a right place, right time kind of attraction. It had nothing to do with him, and now knowing what he was, it could never be him again.

Terzo understood your silence to be an internal monologue, a debate in your own mind. He pressed further, illustrating his point.

“Let me ask you, tesoro, does the thought of me make your hairs stand on end?” his fingertips grazed along the length of your collarbone, the grip on your waist squeezing slightly, “Does it make your stomach fill with the flutter of butterfly wings? Does it make your heart beat like the thrum of a hummingbird’s wings?”

You couldn’t deny it, but those were markers of fear as well as love. It didn’t mean they were synonymous. You refused to answer him.

“I can hear it, you know…” his hand flattened against your collarbone, “The pounding in your chest, the rushing of your blood through your veins. I hear them, working so hard when you are near me.”

Terzo leaned into your neck, his nose brushing against your jugular so tenderly as he breathed in deeply, enjoying your scent to the point of near intoxication. Little did you know, it was that scent that drew him out of hiding in the first place. He simply couldn’t stay away from you, and when he saw where the scent was coming from, saw your sheer beauty, he understood why you smelled as tempting as you did.

“Fear smells just like love to me, tesoro. It adds a sweetness to your already saccharine scent. Just like nectar appeals to a honey bee, you appeal to me much the same,” he continued to nuzzle his nose against your skin, his breath fanning over your collarbone. Every so often in his clumsy, inebriated state his lips would gently tickle the skin, sending a rush through you that now you were certain he could smell. “That nectar can be turned into honey, no? I wonder if I could do the same for you…”

You bit your lip, looking up towards the ceiling in an attempt to avoid his eyes that frankly were too hypnotic for their own good.

“They are all markers of fear, Terzo…” you whimpered. You felt his breath as he chuckled against your skin.

“Then tell me why I can smell the sweetest honey already pooling between your legs, cara mio…”

Your head snapped down to look at him, and you met his eyes already waiting for you, a smirk on his lips. You wanted to deny it, to slap him, to push him away from you but what was the point? He was right. There was no denying it. He could smell you.

The shame you felt, letting a monster like him have such an effect on you, was astronomical.

“Please…”  you pleaded; for what, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, cara mio? What can I give you?” he asked, straightening up and again cupping your cheek with his gloved hand, still holding your waist, still pressing his hips to yours. His lips were so close, all you could do was stare at them until you snapped yourself out of it, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Everything.”

It took no longer than a heartbeat for Terzo to process your answer, before his lips attached to yours so fast and hard you felt his fangs scrape against your bottom lip. A thrill zapped your core, and your balled up fists against his chest gripped the lapels of his coat to bring him impossibly close. You succumbed so quickly to him, desperate to feel his lips against yours.

While you were sure this feeling was not love, it was certainly not fear either. ‘Infatuation’ felt closer to the truth, borderline obsession just as Terzo had exhibited towards you. But denying it was futile now, and so instead, you leaned into it. The pair of you desperately held onto each other, kissing as if this was the only way you could get oxygen, and you’d been suffocating without each other.

Terzo started to move, trailing his passion down to your jawline, underneath your ear and down to your neck. Your heartrate quickened again, knowing that his mouth near your neck could go only one of two ways. Both options seemed to excite you in equal measures…

“W-will it hurt…?” you asked him, as you felt his fangs graze against your skin lightly, like he was holding himself back.

“Just for a second…” he panted like a dog laying out in the sun. And he wasn’t wrong, the pain would be momentary, his fangs emitting a small amount of venom that acts as an anaesthetic. That wasn’t the problem, and it wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks. “But I can’t…”

You cupped his cheeks, lifting his head to look him in the eye again. “What’s wrong?”

He looked as if he were in pain, his face screwed up in utter agony. He kept shaking his head, like he didn’t want to say it, like he was hiding a secret that would break him just to say aloud.

“If… If I do this, I might not be able to stop,” he whined, “and even if I do, how could I ever let you go after tasting you?”

You searched his eyes, saw the pain and the uncertainty in them. He truly didn’t want to hurt you, and right now he looked more vulnerable than you would think a creature of the night was capable of being.

“When you moved in I couldn’t leave you, I couldn’t stay away… And that was merely your smell, Tesoro. I’m afraid if I taste you, I could never leave you alone again.”

His admission floored you, and as much as the idea of giving yourself over to him willingly seemed to appeal to you, the rational part of your brain was still working enough to understand that that was a line that should not be crossed just yet.

“It’s okay… It’s okay,” you told him sincerely, comforting his distress before bringing his lips back to yours and resuming your heated exchange. Perhaps someday you would allow him that taste, a way of committing deeper than you could possibly comprehend at this stage. But there was a reason for the phrase “blood pact”, and it didn’t originate with the exchange of open wounds between two mortals.

As enthralled as he was in your lips, feeling your pulse beneath them tempting him, Terzo had to push the thought to the back of his mind. He couldn’t lose himself to the temptation so soon. He��d frighten you away if you saw him so feral, and he couldn’t let you disappear like everyone else in his life – not the only woman to ever have smelled so divine to him. Only he knew what that meant, that pull…  You were it for him. His obsession was unavoidable, you were his promised love.

It happened instantaneously for his kind, but for you? It would take time for you to see it, to feel what he felt. Human sense of smell was nowhere near as powerful, and so you could never know just by his scent that he was the one for you, the soul on the other end of the red string tied around your wrist.

To rid his mind of the temptation, he focussed on the moment at hand. His intense grip on your waste drifted over your hips and to the backs of your thighs until he was lifting them, using his hips to ground you against the wall so you wouldn’t fall. It was as if you were weightless to him, his inhuman strength making such light work of carrying you further down the hall and into your bedroom – his bedroom – until you both fell onto the bed.

No part of you thought for even a millisecond of stopping him, an intense need for him screaming from within you. You pushed his coat from his shoulders, diverting to his shirt buttons as soon as he began pulling at his sleeves to rid himself of the heavy wool. In no time at all, his chest was bare to you, peppered with dark hair that you’d expect from a man of Italian descent. You pulled him closer to you, reattaching your lips desperately.

His gloves disappeared as you kissed him, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the touch of his cold skin on yours, his hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt to hold you. He paused for a moment, searching your face for any sign his touch wasn’t welcome.

“Just cold…” you assured him, running your fingers through the dark locks of hair that had fallen over his face as he hovered above you.

“I, eh… sí, mi scusi, I am cold to the touch…” he apologised, a wave of insecurity flashing through his expression.

“I don’t mind,” you smiled sweetly, pulling him down with your hand woven into his hair and kissing his insecurity away. He regained his confidence, grip returning to your bare waist under your shirt and tightening with gratitude at your reassurance.

The way he kissed you was like worship, like he valued every second you allowed him to touch you, to be with you – and as he slowly began to undress you, his worship continued. He started with your shirt, pushing it up your abdomen and peppering the skin with more kisses as he exposed it. Over the curve of your breast peaking from above the cup of your bra, you felt the low rumble of a groan against your chest that was suppressed as he buried his face into your flesh. He was so gentle, so calculated in his motions and it was driving you crazy already.

Once your shirt was finally above your head and discarded somewhere to the side, he pulled the straps of your bra down, kissing along your shoulders and down your arms until he reached behind you to unclasp it. Your breasts bounced before him, and he immediately began to leave open mouthed kisses over them, laving his tongue over your nipples as they stood to attention under the chill of his lips. His free hand worked at your other breast, kneading like he was making the finest ricciarelli biscuit dough.

You couldn’t help the soft whines and hums that left your body as he worshipped you, hips rolling under him in a desperate attempt to feel something more. You wanted him so badly, already overcome with desire.

His hand came to rest on your hip, squeezing and he continued to suckle at your breast. His fingers dipped easily into the waistband of your paint-smeared sweats – one of several pairs you alternated when working on the house renovations. Before long, he was dragging them down your thighs, his cold knuckles grazing at the skin and sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

Terzo was taking his time without wasting any. He knew what he wanted, what you wanted, but he spent just enough time working your body, lavishing it to build anticipation. But before long, his kisses began to travel south, leaving a path of wet little marks down between the valley of your breasts and your navel until he was tracing the hem of your underwear, daring to run his finger along the sensitive skin.

It took a formidable amount of strength and restraint to keep your hips as still as you did, and even then, you were wriggling under his touch. But when he could tell you were growing restless, he wrapped his arm underneath your thigh and lifted it above his shoulder. Naturally, you spread wider for him, giving him complete access to your covered core where he could see so clearly the stain of arousal.

He was so close to you, the scent of your sweet honey so intoxicating. You could never understand how divine that scent was with your own human senses, but to him? It cemented itself in his memory. He knew that after today, he would never forget it. He didn’t want to rush, but frankly, it was getting impossible to resist a taste.

He lifted the hem of your panties and pierced the material beneath it with his fangs, easily tearing it away from your body before he pressed his nose to your mound, and took in a deep inhale. He growled between your legs, the vibration and exhale teasing your nerves until you were clenching around nothing.

He could wait no longer, his tongue reaching out to lap between your folds in one slow motion. He savoured the taste on his tongue, making sure to collect as much honey as he could for a truly overwhelming taste. You watched as his hips rocked into the bed below him, his hands tightening on your thighs. His tongue felt cold too, but the pressure was so welcome, a wave of euphoria passing through your core.

Expertly, Terzo used his whole mouth to bring you the pleasure he thought you deserved and yet, not once did you worry about the sharp fangs he’d used to strip you. He had the ability to retract them should he need to, and for this particularly delicate activity, he did just that. But his lips and tongue worked together to have you moaning at every lap, hips rolling underneath him.

Your hands found their way to his hair for purchase, tugging at the roots every time he sent a surge of pleasure through your clit. He loved it, moaning with you as if he too was close to an orgasm. Both of you had lost yourselves to the moment, completely enthralled in lust.

Terzo was becoming more and more desperate to have you finish on his tongue. Each pretty little sound he caused only made him want to hear more, and as you grew closer and closer to orgasm, you sweetened with added hormones that drove him wild. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and easily slid two fingers inside, not bothering nor needing to tease with how your body already gave itself over to him. He curled his fingers inside you, a shock of pleasure forcing your back to arch from the mattress as he found the perfect position.

His pace increased with every moan he elicited, the tension in your lower abdomen growing until you were on the verge of snapping.

“T-Terzo… Please,” you begged him. He chuckled darkly as he buried his face deeper within you, his nose adding to the equation and making your hips writhe until finally, that tension inside you snapped.

He didn’t stop, holding you down with inhuman strength as you erupted in cries of bliss. Your muscles contracted, thighs trapping his head in place and fingers pulling painfully at his hair.

Terzo slurped at your core, not letting a single drop of arousal go to waste. You tasted different as you came, the rush of hormones adding something so damn addictive that it wasn’t until you physically tried pushing his head away in oversensitivity that he snapped out of his trance, his head jolting up to look at you with his mouth and skin shimmering. He looked completely feral, his eyes wide, and you watched as his fangs returned with a snarl of a hungry animal locking onto its kill.

Your heart jumped in your chest; out of fear or lust you couldn’t be sure. But he heard it, the irregular thump as you lay vulnerable and weak beneath him. It only served to make his erection twitch in his slacks… Fear was a powerful feeling, and mixed with lust it was one of the most erotic combinations.

He crawled his way back up your body, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before diving into a punishing kiss that knocked any remaining wind out of you. You could feel his length pressing into your hip, and while you were certainly already struggling with exertion you wanted nothing more than to know how he’d feel inside you.

So you reached between you both for his belt, fiddling with the buckle as you kissed him. Taking the hint, he kicked his shoes off over the edge of the bed, and when you’d managed to undo his belt and slacks, he helped to kick them with his underwear passed his knees to follow suit. With him bared to you and pressing into your hip once again, you could feel just how endowed he was, and just how ready for you he was.

“You are so beautiful, cara mio…” he mused between kisses, his cold fingertips trailing down your neck and arm, then back up. “And you can’t ever understand how exquisite you taste.”

“To an extent, I can…” you teased with a flirty smile, “I can taste myself on your tongue.”

He stared down at you for a moment, until realisation finally settled and his lips curled into a devilish grin.

“Tu sei una tentatrice, amore mio… (you are a temptress, my love…)” he whispered, lowering himself to your lips once again.

As you both lost yourself in another steamy kiss, you couldn’t help rolling your hips up to meet his. He hummed into your mouth, understanding that you wanted him completely, and reached between the two of you to grip himself. You spread your legs a little wider to make it easier for him, feeling how he prodded at your entrance once he’d lined himself up.

“Are you sure, amore?” he stopped to ask, and you nodded, biting your lip to contain the smile as you cupped his cheeks. With your permission, he slowly pushed forwards, filling you slowly as he glided through your slick. You fought to keep your eyes open, if only to watch the look of bliss that overcame his face – and boy was it worth it.

He looked so ethereal, like his pale skin had been carved by the finest of Greek sculptors in marble burdened with the curse of perfection. The chill of his skin did nothing to quell the burning heat of yours, finding the perfect balance.

“You’re so… warm,” he moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he enjoyed the feeling for a moment. “Sembra fottutamente incredibile. (feels fucking incredible.)”

Given a moment to compose himself, he began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, gritting his teeth from the sensation alone. You would be the first to admit that he, too, felt incredible inside you, reaching places his fingers had only moments ago and sending waves of a dull pleasure through you once again at the embers of your last orgasm were being stoked.

His hand gripped your thigh and lifted it around his waist, obtaining a better angle and something for him to grip onto to stop his mind spiralling into sheer madness. Already, you were so difficult to resist; temptation was calling to him in the form of your steady, yet thundering pulse where his face lay against your neck. But if he lost himself, lost control like he was so terrified to, he was afraid resistance would fail him.

It was like torture. How could he feel so incredible pumping his length inside you while simultaneously experiencing the physical strain of holding his thirst back. You were his, he’d decided that long ago. But to truly make you his, all he would need to do was to give in, to sink his fangs into the skin he was peppering with kisses. He felt like a recovering addict desperately trying to resist as someone waved a hit under his nose. In some ways, that was exactly what he was.

But not yet. It was too soon. He had to resist for now, to let you make up your mind without ancient ritual influences before he allowed himself to truly make you his. He couldn’t bind himself to you, only for you to walk away when it all became too much, or hell forbid, you found someone more human to settle down with.

Instead, he focussed on the pleasure filling his cock as he pistoned in and out of you. He focussed on your pretty moans, and the way you clenched around him. He focussed on kisses to your neck instead of bites, groaning against your skin as he indulged in you. But too easily he lost himself, and soon he couldn’t help but drag his tongue from the bottom of your neck, to right underneath your ear.

You loved how it felt, completely oblivious to just how close you were to becoming a meal to him. To you it was simply another thing to drive you wild, and when you once again wrapped your fingers in his hair, your other arm pushing down on his back to pull him against you, you had no clue you were making it so much harder for him.

He kept suckling, licking, even nipping so gently at your neck – so fucking close to what he truly wanted as his instincts began to take over. He fought them as hard as he could snarling at himself in warning but still, you were oblivious to his internal fight and mistook his anguish for noises of pleasure.

Truly, he hadn’t meant to let it get this far; but when the sharp tip of his fang grazed just a little too close to where your pulse thundered against his tongue, and you writhed under him with a targeted hit to your g-spot, he nicked your skin just enough to draw the tiniest spec of blood… He hadn’t even noticed, your scent already filling his nose that he didn’t sense it intensify just a fraction until it was too late, and he’d laved his tongue over the graze.

It all happened too fast, then.

You were mid-moan when you felt an excruciating pain where his tongue had just been, the noise catching in your throat with a sudden choke. Your fingers naturally tightened in his hair, and your nails dug into the cold flesh of his back as a scream travelled its way through your ribcage and you couldn’t help but let it out. Your back arched and your muscles constricted, but Terzo’s hips never stopped and now that he’d got a taste of you – a real taste – he growled a visceral growl that you felt rumble in the pit of your stomach.

If he thought you’d tasted good between your legs, this was the most intensely delicious thing he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. Such pure, untainted blood coated his tongue, dribbling down your neck as he ravished it. He’d known this was dangerous, that one bite would bind him to you for eternity after the first whiff of your scent when you moved in. But now that he’d tasted you, he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he’d fought so hard to stave off.

“T-Terzo, you-“ you tried to stop him, remembering how pained he’d looked when he explained why he really couldn’t do this, but it truly was too late. All it took was one drop. He cut you off with a hand clamping over your jaw, his other holding your hip in place with bruising force.

His hips never stopped, every sensation he felt only pushing him to fuck into you harder like a rabid monster. In that moment, that was exactly what he was. In that first split-second, he frightened you. You saw the side of him he’d tried so hard to hide, and coupled with the pain in your neck, your body flooded with adrenaline – which of course, only added to the sublime taste of your blood.

But like he had promised, the venom acted fast. The pain ebbed away into nothing but a sensation of being prodded and sucked at. Still you held onto him tightly, unable to deny that this was possible one of the most intimate feelings you’d ever felt, and the pleasure started to stack up.

Even to a point, where the rush of blood through the two puncture wounds in your neck became a pleasurable experience. You’d have trouble explaining just how, but it felt unbelievable, like a massage that tickled and sent endorphins flooding your mind. Little did you know, that was also the venom coursing through your body. But it didn’t matter, because coupled with Terzo’s cock thrusting against your g-spot it was the most glorious feeling in the entire world.

As you barrelled closer to a second orgasm, Terzo ripped his fangs from your neck and looked down at you beneath him. He had a look in his eye that was so predatory that you knew immediately you belonged to him now, whether you liked it or not. As luck would have it, you did like it; very much. That obsessive look, that ownership turned you on to a point that had you squealing for him beneath his hand.

Quickly, you reached your peak for a second time, holding him so tightly you thought that maybe even you would draw blood with your nails in his back. Just as that second burst of pleasure coursed through you, Terzo reattached himself to your neck, drinking in the newly sweetened blood that a rush of hormones created for him. If you could imagine the most expensive, and decadent wine you had ever tasted, it wouldn’t hold a candle to the taste of your blood to him right now.

Suddenly he lurched back again, this time removing his hands from your body and holding himself up, only to dive in and sink his fangs into the swell of your breast as it bounced with the force of each of his trusts. Again, you were met with pain the flooded your body but mixed with the high of your orgasm, you could only scream in pleasure. He drank from you again, kneading at your other breast as he too hurtled towards an orgasm.

The pain subsided quickly thanks to another dose of his venom, but he continued to drink from you, prolonging your euphoria just long enough for him to finally and violently reach his own high.

He erupted inside you, his head throwing back as he growled and lost his rhythm, pounding sloppily into you with each twitch of his cock. In your post-orgasm haze, you witnessed the look of bliss on his face, seeing for the first time the distinct red that coated his lips and dripped from his fangs down to his chin. He looked manic, but holy shit it was intensely erotic.

With the small amount of strength left in you, you sat up just enough to push your lips to his. You don’t know why you did it, or even that you had until you could taste the metallic twang of iron on your tongue. Terzo collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around you as he rolled to the side, taking you along with him. With the mess he created of your core, he slipped from inside you, now simply intent on holding you close while he processed that you were kissing him, despite being tainted with your blood. But it grounded him, and slowly, his orgasm subsided and his mind cleared of its fog.

Your kiss came to a natural end, the pair of you exhausted, and without a word you lay yourself on his chest, not bothering to wipe away the smears of blood around your own mouth as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry…” he whimpered, pulling you tighter against him and obscuring your view of his face so you wouldn’t have to witness the shame that settled there. You didn’t have the energy to speak, instead hoping that the circling of your thumb over the cool skin of his chest was enough comfort for now to show him you didn’t mind, that you’d wanted that as much as he had.

You let some time pass, calming yourselves down in each other’s arms. His grip on you lessened as the minutes passed, and eventually, you were able to look up at his face. To your shock and heartbreak, you noticed his cheeks were wet with something other than blood – Terzo was crying.

“Hey…” you soothed, shuffling further up the bed to hover above him. He covered his face with his hand, hiding himself but you pulled it away, cupping his cheek and swiping at the tear tracks. “No, no no… Stop this, it’s okay.”

“Mi dispiace tantissimo, (I’m so sorry,)” he cried, “I hurt you. I did the one thing I should never have done…”

“Shhh,” you hushed him like a newborn who couldn’t sleep, “I wanted that, remember? I told you you could.”

“You don’t understand, I… I have bound myself to you, and now, when you leave… it will devastate me,” he sobbed, staring straight up at the canopy of the large bed, unable to look you in the eye.

“What makes you think I will leave?” you asked him gently, still gently swiping his fresh tears away whilst fighting your own.

“Amore mio, I have lost everybody I have ever cared about,” he told you, finally looking you in the eye. “I have either outlived them, or watched as they turned their back on me. And now I have selfishly bound myself to you, knowing that I cannot ever let you go.”

His admission broke your heart. You certainly had no intention of going anywhere, the bond you now shared with him feeling strangely cemented and more intimate than any you’d had with another. But in the end, time would come for you just as it had the rest of his family, lying under the earth of your own back garden.

“How does someone… become like you?” you asked tentatively, absentmindedly, playing with the chest hair the covered his pecks.

Terzo’s brow creased in confusion. “Why would you ask such a thing? I couldn’t condemn you to a life like this…” After all he’d been through; the killings, loss, isolation, and even the exile he’d faced decades ago when the townspeople discovered what he was… He couldn’t put you in a position like that. He didn’t want you to become part of the dark legend of the Emeritus house, another spooky story passed from generation to generation to tell around campfires for years to come.

“Just tell me, how?” you pressed. He sighed, laying his head back on the pillow and staring back up at the canopy.

“You would need to drink the blood of my kind,” he stated simply, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “I could not ask that of you. The process is not an easy one, and to become like me is to be condemned to a life of heartache.”

You thought for a moment, acknowledging his concerns but deciding that whilst that had been his experience, it didn’t need to be yours. Not with him beside you – neither of you would need to be lonely ever again.

“I’m so sorry you’ve felt that heartache, but I believe that the two of us together could avoid that.”

He raised his head to look at you again, examining your face for a moment while he contemplated what some kind of future might look like with you.

“Perhaps not yet, I understand. But Terzo, I will prove that I intend on going nowhere. And when you feel like you might be ready to trust that, I’ll be waiting,” you promised him, cupping his jaw and stroking your thumb gently over his cheek. “Until then, I can be your very own personal supply, hm?” you smiled, “You won’t need to take a life, so long as you have me little and often, right?”

“You… would do that? For me?” his eyebrows creased together in question, truly in disbelief you would offer him such a thing.

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I mean as long as every time feels as incredible as that,” you giggled. “And besides, you’ll get a decent meal at least once a month,” you joked, lightening the mood a little with a cheeky smirk.

Terzo rolled his eyes with a laugh that vibrated his chest beneath you. He shook his head at the absurdity of your offer, no matter how technically practical that sort of arrangement would actually be to a man of his kind.

“Oh, amore… sei davvero una tentatrice (you really are a temptress)…” he grinned, leaning up to capture your lips in a sweet, blood-stained kiss.

A/N: Huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading! If you'd like to leave me a tip, you can do so here.

If you'd like to read any of my other works, you can find them here.

[sundrop-writes]

Damn The Man, Save The Empire

(Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!GN!Reader

Heaven is a place we can't afford.

Summary:

Vanessa has always taken care of you.

Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you.

(Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).

Word Count: 6,100

Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This fic contains major spoilers for the film (even though it takes place before the main bulk of the film) - if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you want to watch it spoiler-free, be cautious; general toxic relationship - the two main characters have a very toxic relationship; there is a power imbalance in the relationship due to one of the characters being a police officer; both of the main characters have a lot of childhood trauma and they show it in their actions; there is underlying dom/sub dynamics - the reader is submissive and Vanessa is dominant; somewhat dubious consent - the whole interaction starts out as an argument rather than something explicitly sexual, but the reader still enjoys it the whole time (one of those safe, consensual, but not ‘sane’ situations). The reader’s gender is completely ambiguous - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours, and the reader’s genitals are described in a way that could be interpreted as the character being amab or afab, no specific gendered terms are used; mentions of the reader having sex with someone who is not Vanessa (a random unnamed man); mentions of the reader having sex in the back of someone’s car and being caught by a police officer who is not Vanessa (and then being passed off to Vanessa); dark!Vanessa, jealous!Vanessa, possessive!Vanessa (she hates that the reader had sex with someone else earlier that night).

The reader and Vanessa have been friends since childhood; mention of the reader drinking/ingesting alcohol - not enough to impair consent or impair the general senses; the reader calls Vanessa ‘Ness’ or ‘Nessa’ as a nickname; technically, Vanessa does ‘arrest’ the reader (she doesn’t bring the reader into a police station or file any official paperwork); Vanessa puts the reader in handcuffs in a non-sexual way, and later those handcuffs are used for sexual bondage; use of Y/N (and L/N, meaning Last Name); mention of the reader character stealing and doing other petty crimes; mentions of Vanessa’s childhood trauma - her father murdering children and forcing her to help cover it up (implications that she also participated in the killings in some way); the reader witnessed one of the killings as a child and has also kept it a secret; somewhat graphic descriptions of murder/a child being killed.

Some manhandling but nothing that would insist that Vanessa has inhuman strength; hair-pulling - kind of in a sexy way, kind of in a violent way; Vanessa literally steps on the reader (again, kind of violent, kind of sexy) - some breath restriction due to being stepped on; general pain kink; the characters in this fic have a poor attitude toward casual hook-ups; there is a hand on the neck but no purposeful choking (very little restriction of breath); nipple play - Vanessa painfully tugs the reader’s nipple; something like subspace is described, but the word ‘subspace’ isn’t specifically used; slight inspection kink; spanking - on the reader’s thighs and on the reader’s genitals; Vanessa calls the reader ‘brat’; a lot of this could be seen as brat-taming/brat tamer!Vanessa; Vanessa uses her hand on the reader - because the reader’s genitals are not described, this could be interpreted as a handjob or fingering (but there are no mentions of penetration); Vanessa fucks herself against the reader’s thigh; Vanessa edges the reader (once); asking permission to orgasm; biting/marking kink; I believe that's finally everything.

A/N: This fic is named after a Pierce The Veil song of the same name. I definitely recommend listening to the song, because the lyrics fit with this fic so so well. A very large part of her characterization in this is informed by the 'if you bring Abby back here again, I will shoot you' moment from the movie - rage fuelled by compassion and love and protectiveness for another person. I really love that part and I think it's such an interesting aspect to her character. Also, I put a lot of thought into making this completely gender neutral, making sure the reader could be interpreted as amab or afab, so I hope that everyone enjoys it! Also - I know that it might be weird for Vanessa's nickname in this fic to be 'Ness' because that's the name of Matpat's diner character (named after a character in one of his theories??) but I think it's a cute nickname, and if I actually knew her, that's what I would call her. So I am going off the idea that neither of the characters in this fic know Ness the diner waiter, and the reader has just always called Vanessa 'Ness'. So - yeah.

...

“Get in the car.” Vanessa barked - the pure anger and annoyance in her voice echoed through the night. 

You hated that it brought you a certain kind of warped joy. 

She put a hand flat on your back, between your shoulder blades, and roughly shoved you toward the back bumper of her police cruiser. 

You purposefully walked slower, just to mock her, and she let out a harsh sigh. You bit your lip to hold back a grin. At this point in your lives, this was just the nature of your relationship with your best friend. You didn’t just get under her skin, you lived there. 

“God, I can’t believe you!” She shouted. “Public indecency? You’ve gotten in shit for some pretty stupid things, but having sex in the back of some random asshole’s car-?!” 

“The back of someone’s car should not be considered ‘public’!” You argued, laughter edging on your voice. 

It was difficult to take things seriously when you knew that the consequences wouldn’t be too severe. Vanessa always swooped in to save you. She would just bring you home, scold you a bit. But she wouldn’t do anything that would leave a lasting mark. 

“Did you even know the guy you were fucking? Did you even use a fucking condom?” She screeched at you. 

Did you know the guy? Sort of. Did you use a condom? Yes, you did. 

But you were in the mood to annoy Vanessa even more. 

You shrugged. “Why does it matter? Your stupid cop friend interrupted us before we could even finish, so-” 

“Ugh, get in the car!”

She was lucky that Officer Lamontange had been on duty, and he owed her a favor. Anybody else would have slapped a pair of cuffs on you and hauled you to the station without a second thought. You’d be in processing by now, and you’d be in jail for the next few weeks before they could even get you a public defender. 

But that was you and Vanessa. You fucked up, she stuck her neck out for you. This was probably going to be one time too many. This was going to be the one that got her fired. She had already been warned about letting you off, performing ‘special favors’. 

“Get in the car!” You repeated back, mocking her voice in a silly way before you let out a chuckling howl. 

So what? You liked to party. So what? Those parties got a little out of control. 

It’s not your fault some uptight suburban yuppies called the cops on you for having fun. You didn’t even know that having an ‘open container’ of booze and having sex in the back of someone’s car was illegal anyway. Live and learn. 

“God, how much have you had to drink?” Vanessa gritted through her teeth, low and full of breath, the way she always did when she was angry. 

It was something that made your stomach twist and made you far dizzier than the alcohol did. You weren’t sure if it was from lust - from your underlying attraction toward her, or if it was from fear. Perhaps a bit of both. 

“Let me smell your breath.” She demanded. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t had that much to drink. One or two sips from a bottle, enough to get you a bit buzzed. You had been planning on having more later. But you were in a nagging mood, and didn’t want to give into her so easily. 

“Ness, I’m not a fucking teenager-” You argued, still facing away from her as you trudged toward the car with lazy steps. 

She put a hand on your elbow and whipped you around with a surprising strength, forcing you to face her. She was tight in your personal space before you could blink, and instinctively, you clamped your mouth closed and held your breath - though you knew that the smell of Jack Daniels would be apparent coming off your nose and lips whether you breathed on her or not. 

“You’re not a teenager anymore, but you’re sure as fuck acting like one.” She said harshly. 

You finally released your breath, giving another laugh and a shrug. 

“At least I know how to have fun.” You argued, entirely careless about the situation. 

You expected that you would get into the front seat of the car and she would drive you home. She’d probably make you drink some water before tucking you into bed, and you would fall asleep to her giving you a long lecture about responsibility. She would come by in the morning with coffee and bagels (despite the stereotypes about cops, Vanessa was not much of a donut person). 

But instead of partaking in this predictable routine, Vanessa surprised you with her next move. 

She put a hand in the middle of your back and shoved you toward the car again. This time you were closer - your stomach landed against the back bumper, and you let out a small grunt as you collided with it. You turned your head over your shoulder to question her, but before you could get any words out, she pulled one of your forearms to the middle of your back and you felt cold steel on your wrist. 

“Y/N L/N, you’re under arrest for Public Intoxication and Public Indecency,” She announced, her voice deadly calm, and stern. 

“Ness, you’re seriously arresting me?” You asked, insult and scorn running through your voice. 

Her answer came in the form of her bringing your other wrist to the middle of your back - she joined it into the cuffs with the harsh, echoing grind of metal as the cuffs slid into place. 

“You have the right to remain silent-” She said, continuing to go about the routine in a very unfeeling tone. 

“You have the right to fuck off.” You bit back bitterly. 

“Anything you say can and will be used against you-” 

“Is that everything I’ve ever told you from when we were kids, or is that just starting now?” You asked, feeling spite rise up in you. 

“Will you ever learn to shut up?” She replied with a sarcastic, spiteful question of her own, and grabbed you to bring you around to the back door of the car. 

You heaved out a sigh as she opened the door. As she put a hand on the top of your head and tried to push you into the car, you resisted further. 

“Ness, seriously?” You said, hoping one last push against her would get her to take off the cuffs. 

“Just get in the car.” She repeated again, her voice entirely stern. 

You sagged, and let yourself become pliant to her motions as she guided you into the backseat. 

It wasn’t the first time you had been in the back of her police car. But it was always under other circumstances. If something else was occupying the front seat, like a large tool box or her gym bag, then she would make you sit in the back. Sometimes, if you were too drunk to sit up and she was afraid you would puke on her, then she would make you sit in the back. You found it to be a decent place to fall asleep. 

However, this was the first time you had been in the backseat in handcuffs. 

This was the first time she had officially arrested you. 

You found it uncomfortable to sit with your wrists behind your back, but you knew that was currently the least of your problems. Vanessa leaned in, reaching for the seatbelt, ready to strap you in, fiddling with it for a moment before she grunted with frustration. 

“The seatbelt back here is still broken.” She said through gritted teeth as she moved to stand at her full height outside the car. “Because someone insisted on-” 

“Oh, shut up.” You barked back. “Where else was I supposed to strap in Sir Bearrington?” 

A few weeks ago she had picked you up from a carnival. 

You had been detained by security there for stealing a large lock box of money from one of the vendors - it had been out in the open, too tempting. When you had taken it with no real plan and simply started running, you had eventually been caught by the security staff on the grounds. 

And when you had been locked up in the office, you had called Vanessa - and she had arrived to bail you out without question. Earlier in the night, you had won an oversized teddy bear and refused to give it up even when Vanessa insisted that it was stupid. 

Apparently your insistence to try and strap the bear into her back seat, the ensuing argument the two of you had over it, grabbing the seatbelt and tugging at it - had broken the seatbelt. You hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. 

“You’re not cute.” Vanessa mumbled, clearly disgruntled by the whole thing. 

She slammed the back door closed, leaving you unrestrained in the back of the car, fully prone to be injured in a car accident. Though, you supposed she didn’t care about that with how angry she was at you right now. 

She walked around to the front seat and got in, leaving the two of you in a sullen silence as she started the car and drove away. She didn’t even bother putting on the radio to buffer that silence, and you hated how much it made you feel like a child sitting in the principal’s office. 

You stared at the back of her head through the metal mesh of the cage separating the front and the back - something that supposedly kept her safe from the dangerous criminal that you were. You felt a deep bitter ache form inside of you as all of it truly set in. With the handcuffs biting into your wrists and your fingers beginning to tingle with numbness, it truly hit you. 

Vanessa wasn’t going to protect you anymore. 

“You’re seriously bringing me in?” You choked out, not intending for the hurt to come through in your voice as much as it did. 

“Yes.” Vanessa replied. “You did something wrong. You deserve to see justice.” 

“Justice?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You sure have a funny sense of that.” 

“How so?” Vanessa asked, her voice entirely timid. 

She kept her eyes straight ahead, not daring to catch a glimpse of your disappointed face in the rearview mirror. She had a feeling that she knew what you were going to say, and she wasn’t going to like it. 

“If you had any sense of justice, you wouldn’t have begged me not to rat out your father all those years ago.” You said, your voice choked off by emotion. “I would have told everyone what I saw, and he’d be in jail. You would have gone into foster care with some other family, and you’d be miles and miles away from this shithole town. And… I’d probably be in the psych ward. Making paper crafts with some nice woman named Martha.” 

“Please don’t talk about my father.” Vanessa gritted out - it was a very tender spot for her, which was something that you already knew. 

The day you met Vanessa was one of the worst days of your life. 

It started out as a day that was entirely unassuming, at best. You had divorced parents, and when your father got you on weekends, he didn’t like to try too hard. He was the type of dad who turned on the TV and fell asleep, left you to your own devices. You liked it that way. 

That weekend, he had brought you out. Freddy Fazbear’s was a place kids could have fun, and their parents could sit back and forget about them. You liked it there - just like any other kid would. You ran around, played arcade games, ate pizza. You gawked at the animatronic band and danced to their songs. 

At one point, you ran into a shy little blond girl and she introduced herself to you as Vanessa. She told you that sometimes being at Freddy’s got boring for her because her father worked there and she was there all the time. She showed you all the best arcade games, and a hack to get a free play (unplugging them and plugging them back in, which reset them to ‘demo mode’). She even snuck behind the prize counter and got you a decoder ring that you had been admiring, but didn’t have enough tickets for. 

The two of you had the best afternoon together. And you hated it when your father shouted your name and told you that you were going home. So you told him that you needed a spare minute to say goodbye to your new friend Vanessa. And then, innocently enough - you sought her out. 

This search for her mistakenly led you into one of the back rooms.

The horrors you saw could barely be described. A Yellow Rabbit mascot missing its head. A twisted, laughing face covered in blood. A horrifically large knife plunging into a small body. Bright red, thick blood. Guts, flesh. Carnage. 

Vanessa found you just as her father spotted you out of the corner of his eye. He came at you with the bloody knife at the ready. That crazed expression on his face was the most unforgettable thing about him. Whenever you closed your eyes and thought back to that day - the expression on his face was the thing that you remembered most. 

Vanessa threw herself in front of you and begged for your life. The discussion between them that followed was a blur in your mind as your heart thumped hard between your ears. Something about ‘witnesses’ and ‘loose ends’. All you knew for certain was that Vanessa had saved your life. 

At one point, using his large, yellow mascot hand, he thrust a knife toward her, forcing it into her small fist - and he told her that it was time for her to start ‘pulling her weight’. Vanessa took you by the wrist and took you to another room. 

But you never felt afraid with her, not for a moment. 

She made you swear not to tell anyone what you had seen, and you did. And because she just didn’t have it in her to take a life, especially not yours - she let you live. 

It was too weekends later when your father brought you back to Freddy’s. 

You were excited to see Vanessa. Her father was not excited to see you. When he pulled you into one of the back rooms and berated Vanessa about why you were still ‘around’ - you finally found your courage, and told him that you ‘wouldn’t tell’. The smile he gave you was almost as horrifying as the killing had been. He patted you on the head, and said that he liked loyalty ‘in his friends’. 

The Bonnie plushie that he gave you - a kind of reward for your silence, felt tainted. You threw it away at the closest opportunity, but you kept the decoder ring. You still had it in your jewelry box, even to this day. 

Strangely enough, that wasn’t the last time you saw Vanessa. The two of you spent more and more time together, quickly becoming best friends. You were two lost children in the world, two warped branches of a tree growing to lean on each other, desperate to find the sun. You were the only person who knew all of her dark secrets and didn’t care. You were the only person around her who wasn’t dead, or didn’t fear the rumors about her after Freddy’s shut down - even after she started going by her mother’s maiden name, desperate to escape the dark shadow her father had created over her life. 

Being around Vanessa, spending more time with her - it meant that you did see her father in passing. Every time you did, it felt like seeing a ghost. It did feel like the man with the knife and the crazed expression on his face was a completely different person from the man with the thick glasses who sat across from you at the dinner table, offering you more peas and asking about how your classes were going. 

Vanessa was always the same person. She was always stubborn. She was always a champion for the innocent. She was always someone who needed intense control over every aspect of her life. You thought she would have been destined to become a social worker - but you guessed that she had seen too many broken, dead kids for a lifetime. And she liked the security of having a gun on her belt. So that’s why she became a cop. 

You became a highschool drop-out, part-time drunk, petty criminal, sex degenerate, and general failure. 

It was a real case study of the two roads that trauma corrupted people can take. If anybody were ever willing to take a closer look. 

Vanessa fuelled her anxiety and anger into going forward, charging ahead without thinking, and your anxiety and nightmares caused you to fall more and more backward by the minute. 

“How is dear old daddy, by the way?” You asked, picking at the raw nerve out of spite. “Has he missed me at family dinners?” 

“Shut up!” Vanessa barked. Then after a heavy moment, she let out another quiet, mousy sentence. “I haven’t seen him in years. You know that.” 

“Oh, but your bank account says otherwise.” You replied, a cocky tone breaching through. “The new apartment is so nice. I know you’re not bankrolling all that on a cop’s salary. What kind of dirty work does he have you doing these days?” 

Vanessa’s silence was painfully knowledgeable. 

He had sucked her back in somehow. 

“I knew that you always had a soft spot for him.” You sighed. “You probably wish he had gotten rid of me all those years ago, huh?” You mumbled quietly. “It’s not like you ever actually cared about me.” 

Of course, you were feeling hurt by her putting you in handcuffs, threatening to turn you in, something that felt like the ultimate betrayal - so the words slipped out. 

You were shocked when Vanessa slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt. It was lucky that you were on a desolate backroad with nobody else to rear-end you at the sudden stop. If not for your instincts (even while slightly inebriated) to put your foot against the cage, keeping yourself from smacking forward, then you likely would have had the harsh shape of that mesh imprinted on your cheek. 

“I never cared about you?” Vanessa asked, her voice filled with an intense, dark rage. 

You caught her eye in the rearview mirror, and save for the tears dancing on her waterline - she had a look almost identical to that same crazed look her father had worn all those years ago. You almost would have mocked her for it if you didn’t feel your stomach clenching up with fear. 

You had to remind yourself that this was your Vanessa. This wasn’t him. 

“I never cared about you?” She repeated, so utterly insulted by what you had said that she could feel her reality tearing apart. She almost could believe that you had said it. 

“Vanessa-” You choked out, calling her by her full name for the first time in so long. 

Before you could beg for mercy or apologize, she abruptly cut you off. 

“No.” She said. “Shut up.” 

The pure force of her voice sent chills through you, and this time you couldn’t help but to comply. 

You sat in a dizzying silence as she slammed on the gas pedal again, and the car went speeding off. She seemed very determined with where she was going. After a minute or two, where you were becoming increasingly light-headed from your worry, Vanessa whipped the cruiser into an empty lot - a random patch of old pavement that looked like it was on the back end of a place used to keep scrap cars. 

It was dark and secluded. Nobody would find you here. 

She turned off the car and got out, and the back door was open before you could blink. 

“Vanes-” 

You tried to speak to her again, but she reached into the back and grabbed you harshly. One hand tight in your hair, fierce, like a catty teenage fight, and the other on the collar of your crappy old band shirt. She tore your body out of the car (once again, her strength amazed you), stretching out the neck of your shirt in the process. You pattered along with your feet, struggling to keep up and whining in pain as she tugged harshly on your roots, likely pulling hair out in some places. 

You would deny that you liked the pain, especially when it was inflicted onto you by her. 

She tossed you onto the ground and the roughness of the pavement bit into your skin. You let out a sharp groan as you felt some of the skin on your elbow being scraped away.

“Ness-” 

Before you could speak, she put a hefty boot on your hip and turned you over, turning you over onto your back. She then pushed that boot into the middle of your stomach, forcing all the air out of you. With the force pushing down on you, your arms became numb as your hands got pushed into the pavement, the metal of the cuffs biting into your wrists even more now. 

You looked up the length of her body at her, admiring her like a monument in the darkness. Oddly enough, equal parts fear and lust tingled through you as you had nothing but her in your view. Your mind became hazy from the grounding weight of her boot pushing down against the middle of your body. She was a goddess - piercing blue eyes, glassy and crazed, and the swell of her breasts, tightly pressed against her blue uniform shirt, the slight of her shoulders just barely blocking out the inky blue of the night sky as she towered over you. 

You knew that she could have killed you. She could have easily shot you and left your body there, and nobody would have cared about a petty criminal fuck-up like you turning up dead. 

But in that moment, you weren’t afraid. You never had to be afraid with her. 

“Vanessa-” 

“Shut. Up.” She ground out, the words harsh through her teeth. 

She pressed her foot down slightly, causing you to moan out in pain. 

“Do not, for a moment, even begin to judge-” She almost choked on the words, grinding like harsh knives against her throat. “Do not begin to perceive how much I do or do not care about you.” She said, the words harsh and venomous in the cool air. “If I didn’t care about you, you would fucking know it.” 

You knew there was more to it, more waiting on her tongue. Words she couldn’t say. 

‘If I didn’t care about you, you wouldn’t be here right now.’ 

You were lucky to have her. You knew that. 

“I’m sorry.” You croaked out, finding it hard to breathe around the boot pressing into your diaphragm. 

Once again, this reminded you of her power over you - the way she towered over you like a proud monument. You hated the fact that even as you struggled for air, you felt a demanding need growing between your thighs. 

It certainly didn’t help that you hadn’t been able to cum earlier. Like you had said, you had been interrupted before you and your ‘friend’ (acquaintance, a random guy you kind of knew) could finish up. And although you hadn’t been expecting that to be a very satisfying sexual encounter, you were hoping for it to be distracting and take the edge off of your general horniness, at the very least. 

Now you were here - unintentionally edged and hornier than ever. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you sorry.” Vanessa muttered, that anger still ripe on her breath. 

You thought maybe she would hit you. 

It wouldn’t be the first time that the two of you had gotten into a physical fight, volatile and wonderful as your relationship was. You did think it was unfair that this time you were so unmatched, with your hands cuffed behind your back. But she surprised you when, instead of punching you, she took her foot off your stomach completely. And then she came down to straddle you, sitting on that same sore spot above your waistband where her foot had just been. 

Oh, so it was that kind of sorry. 

This wouldn’t be the first time you and Vanessa had sex either. Frankly, you should have been expecting this. 

A lot of your arguments with Vanessa ended in fistfighting - or fucking. Sometimes a combination of both. 

She glared down the length of her body at you and you were aggravated. She wasn’t sitting low enough on your waist for you to grind yourself against her, to get any good friction where you needed it most. You whined with torment and pain as more pressure, the whole weight of her body and yours was put on your cuffed wrists and they were pushed into the ground. 

Your wrists were going to be so fucked - but you tried to make that a problem for your later self. 

You squirmed helplessly, trying to get more comfortable. Vanessa put a stop to your movements with a hand around your neck, shoving your head backwards into the pavement. You instantly stilled against the tightness of her fingers, especially as she pressed into the tender point at the side of your jaw with her thumb. 

She didn’t apply any intense pressure - as long as you sat with your head back and stayed still, she only used the touch to make you pliant and trap you there. 

She put her other hand above your head and leaned down slightly, creating a looming shadow over you as she spoke. 

“Do not ever accuse me of not caring about you.” She said, her voice still painted dark with anger. “Do you think that random guy you were fucking cared about you?” 

You knew the question was a trap. 

“No.” You said, your voice the timid one now. 

“Do you think he would give a shit if you live or die?” She asked, moving her free hand to skim her knuckles across the side of your cheek - a touch so gentle that it made you shiver. “Do you think he would give his life for yours?” 

“No.” You whimpered in return, feeling that aching need between your thighs growing more hot and prominent. 

“Do you think he would even give a fuck if he made you cum or not?” 

With these words, she reached down suddenly and - with picture perfect aim, grabbed your nipple through your shirt, giving it a harsh twist. The pain shot through you, causing you to arch up against the hold she had on your neck. This made you lightheaded, but you knew better than to keep her waiting for an answer. 

“No!” You whined out breathlessly. “No, he wouldn’t care!” 

“Exactly.” She growled out. “I care. I’m the only one who cares about you in this godforsaken world.” 

She was probably right. 

You sucked in a breath, desperate to fill your lungs when she let you go. 

You looked on with intrigue as she descended down your body. While sitting on your knees, keeping you pinned to the ground, she opened the button and zipper of your jeans. She dug her fingers into the waistband and yanked them down. 

It was a bit of a struggle with you acting as deadweight against her, becoming more dizzy as heat swelled between your legs and made you dumb between the ears. She managed to get your pants down to your midthigh before she left the fabric there. This left your bare ass scraping against the roughness of the pavement, left all of you exposed to the cool night air - open, waiting for her. 

You clenched your thighs tight together, waiting with nervous impatience as she looked down at you. Her jaw was tight, tern; her blue eyes glistening with rage and betrayal. 

“Did he cum inside of you?” She growled. 

All at once, she lifted her weight off your legs, sitting up onto her knees. She hovered above you as she put her hands on your inner thighs and ripped your legs apart - as far as they would go with the waistband of your jeans holding you in place. 

“Ness!” You protested quietly, knowing it was in vain. 

You felt open and exposed to her as she blatantly inspected you - her fingers dug in, holding tight against your squirming attempts to close your legs once again. She knew that even past your embarrassment, you were turned on by this. Blatant evidence of that came before her eyes as a bit of wetness pathetically leaked out of you, glistening in the low light for her to see, smearing across your skin as you struggled against her. 

“Stay still!” She snapped, giving a harsh smack to your inner thigh that resonated through the air, chasing air out of your lungs. You thrashed from the pain for a moment before going still upon instinct, knowing that your hole was now visibly clenching around nothing, waiting for her. “So misbehaved. Such a brat. It’s like you don’t even want me to fuck you at all.” 

She sat herself on top of you once again, sitting on your thighs right where your jeans were, causing the denim to cut into your skin as she weighed on it. She specifically barred your thighs open against the ground, and you made no protest as she placed a hand between your thighs and began touching you. She worked in slow, teasing strokes that made the muscles of your thighs quiver and made a moan get caught in the back of your throat. 

“Look at me.” She ordered - you hadn’t even realized that your head was tilting back, your body so loyal to her that the pleasure of such a simple touch from her already overwhelmed you. “Y/N. Look at me.” 

She put her free hand on your neck again, slowing down the hand that was between your thighs until she was just barely teasing her fingertips against you. She used two fingers on your jaw to force your eyes toward her, and then she put that hold back on your neck - not yet putting any pressure, but making her presence well known to you. 

You were powerless against her, perfect below her - and you knew that’s where you belonged. 

“Who’s in charge?” She demanded, her voice low, scraping against her throat in a way that made goosebumps form all over your skin. 

She was still touching you in that slow, barely there way. You swallowed down a whimper and resisted the urge to buck your hips up into her, knowing that it would only get you spanked in a very sensitive place. 

“You are.” You said, your voice cradling around the words in a very pathetic, fucked-out kind of way. 

“And who takes care of you?” She asked, ever present to remind you of this. 

“You do.” You told her. 

“Good.” She growled. 

Then she sped up her hand, her movements almost vengeful as she worked between your legs, touching you in a way that she distinctly knew would make you fall apart. 

“Ness!” You shouted, not even slightly mindful to keep quiet. If you were even slightly present mentally, you would have remembered that’s why she chose this location. She liked to hear you scream. “Oh fuck me!” 

“That’s the plan.” She chuckled. 

She worked you hard and fast, made you breathless. Your mouth gaped like a fish on land as you desperately tried to steal air into your lungs, ever mindful of the hold she had on your neck - a presence, not a hold, not yet. 

Just when your thighs were quivering and you were on the brink of orgasm, she pulled back. Before you could curse on her, she hauled her touch back from you completely and delivered a harsh, sharp spank to the most sensitive part of you. 

“Fuck!” You screamed. “Fuck you, Vanessa, I’ve been good!” You quickly argued, anger surging through you. 

You didn’t even hesitate before you gathered spit in your mouth and launched at her savagely, bitterly angry with her as the pain stung through you. You would never admit that in this state, it mixed with the pleasure in a deliriously confusing way, and might have brought you to orgasm if she had done it again too quickly. 

The glob of your spit landed on her shirt, making a small spot, and she glared down at it for a moment. She didn’t seem to pay it much mind. 

“No, you haven’t been.” She told you, her voice stern. “You need to remember how to be good.” 

She landed another spank between your legs, and as your almost-there orgasm faded from your stomach, this one stung a lot more. 

“Fuck!” You cursed again. 

“Now ask me nicely.” She demanded. “I won’t take care of some brat who doesn’t appreciate it. I’ll take care of someone who asks me nicely, and says thank you.” 

You were too far gone to argue against her. 

“Please.” You begged, tilting your head up to look at her. 

She was still so well composed, not a single hair out of place - the only evidence of sex on her being the stain you had left on her shirt and a tinge of pink coming across her cheeks from the obvious heat you were drawing out of her. 

“Please, Nessa. Please, I need it.” You begged, your voice breathy and fucked out. “I need you.” 

Those were the magic words. 

She put her hand back on you - gently, this time, and began steadily working you. 

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you!” You sighed. 

You were now making a slightly sloppy sound with your own wetness as her hand moved - she pushed a steady stream of moans out of you as she worked up the rhythm. It wasn’t long before you noticed her weight shift, and felt her rubbing herself against your thigh. You loved the impressive heat coming off her cunt, even through her pants it was apparent. From the way she moved her hips with intense urgency, she needed this too. 

You felt yourself getting close again, that deadly heat curling in your gut. You knew what needed to happen, and you weren’t going to make the same mistake again. 

“Please!” You begged, breathless. “Please, Ness, let me cum!” 

“Why should I?” She growled, working her hand even faster now, vengeful as she pumped her wrist and canted her hips against your thigh. 

“Cause - cause you’re the only one who cares about me!” You replied. “Please!” 

It seemed that this was enough to satisfy her. 

“Cum for me.” She growled out. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to disobey. 

She worked you through it - part skill, part knowing from exploring your body so many times before, from being the only person who knew you like this. She moved her hand from your neck and leaned down to sink her teeth into the skin there. The feeling of her canines digging into you while you arched up as the orgasm rocked your body only made everything more dizzying. 

The sharp pain of her bite was grounding, and as your body quaked through the last aftershocks of your orgasm, you whimpered out her name. She hushed you, gently petting her hands all over you before she soothed her tongue over the stinging bite. 

“It’s okay.” She whispered into your neck. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

After a few moments of stillness, Vanessa helped pull your pants up, silently admiring the mess you had made all over your own thighs. And then - she sat you up and unlocked the cuffs. Your wrists were incredibly sore and raw in some places from the metal cutting into your skin, but neither of you said anything about it. 

She opened the door for you to get into the front seat, and wordlessly, she drove you home. When you used your key for the front door, you left it open - a silent invitation for her to come inside after you, and she sighed loudly before doing so. 

That night, she slept in your bed. Both of you pretended that everything was okay. 

You and Vanessa were both very broken people. That wasn’t going to change anytime soon. You showed that brokenness in very different ways, and ultimately, she probably handled it a lot better than you did. 

But one thing would always be true - she took care of you, no matter what.

...

If you enjoyed this work, you are heavily encouraged to share it by reblogging or leave a comment (or an ask) telling me what you enjoyed about it! Commenting and reblogging goes a long way to encouraging writers and fuelling future works!

[kazumiku]

Hi Kazu!! I hope you've been well and taking care of yourself!!<3 Can I request something silly if you have time? Maybe modern au bf Scara X reader fluff and they're dating and and and reader comes to him for comfort because they're tired? Pretty please pretty please? Pretty pretty please?

HAI SEL!!!!!!!!! i wish you well in return, i miss your silly a lot :3 this is such a cute prompt i hope i wrote it correctly!! ive been having bad mental blocks as of late and its getting to me

gn!reader, fluff, angst (?), some tw stuff in there (implied ed), this is a lil specific, scara issa lil meanie, 1110 words !!!

Your head has been buzzing since earlier notice, the walls of paper stacked on your desk made out to be your torture chamber as your back slouched over the table. Words made little sense as your eyes tiredly skirt over the page of your textbook, but nothing is tarrying into your brain, either way. An ultimate decision to retire for the night came to you, as you lazily dragged your feet to plop at the edge of your bed.

"Kuni, I'm tired." Your eyes scrunch at the brightness of your phone screen as you type onto your messaging app. The name of your boyfriend resides at the top of the conversation, accompanied with a singular purple heart that complimented his aesthetic. It didn't take long for him to respond.

"You're still awake?" A question from him. "I couldn't sleep." An answer from you.

It was silence on the other line, your phone tinged in time as you yawn. "I'm coming over."

Scaramouche didn't waste his time, too. Your clock was only about to hit a few minutes till your door clicks twice and footsteps enter to your room, the jingle of the spare keys you lent him followed after each step till he reached your bedroom.

"I was going to say you didn't have to," you sighed as the sight of him greeted your muddy vision, the unders of your eyes much darker compared to the rest of your tone. "You could've went to sleep."

Your choice of words didn't rub him the right way, as his eyes squinted immediately to glare sharp daggers towards your way. "Don't go all pissy-baby on me, I brought food. The least you could do is thank me for taking action." Scaramouche scolds, tongue clicking on his teeth.

"My knight in shining armour, thank you so much for being a good boyfriend!" with a tone leaking with sarcasm, your lips tug into a grin as you motion him over. "Come here, I missed my cute little princess."

"The thank you was enough, but you kept opening your mouth," his arms crossed over his chest as he slowly walked your way. "Like a rat. Suck it up, Mickey Mouse." Scaramouche threw the plastic bag in your arms before settling beside you, the bed dipping due to the shared weight.

His chest felt lighter as he watches you immediately scavenge the insides of the bag, which had a surprising amouth of snacks than you first expected. "Ice cream! Ohh, candies, too," your eyes swiveled to the treats before looking over to Scaramouche who settled by your side. "You brought a lot! Can I even finish all of this?"

"You look like you can."

"Excuse me?" your brows creased, and the shift of your expression earning you a chuckle that sounds from his chest.

"I'm kidding. You can save the rest for later." Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your slightly pouty look, yet the upturn on one corner of his lip couldn't be helped. He doesn't seem to mind if you stuff up your cheeks with food, anyway. A tug in his heart leaves him to find it adorable, to an extent, he never brought himself to hate the foreign feeling.

Just as you go to town with the snacks offered, a warm palm pressed up your cheek, pinching the plush fat. Soft, he pulls on your face.

"Ow! Kuni, what're you doing?" your head tugged to the side, offering him a clear display of the bags weighing heavy under your eyes.

"You weren't lying," a sigh left his chest, "You look tired, too." Scaramouche could dissect the different reasons that brought you up to this point of lassitude. You've ran your brain too much so to the point your body couldn't chase the speed of where your mind started and ended. The telltale signs of fatigue told him far more than the words you offered to him for that evening; "tired" barely scratched the surface.

You look like you've barely eaten too.

His eyes drifted around your room in search, only to be met with a pile of books on your desk, loose stacks of paper barely held by clips, and the trash bin filled to the brim with crumpled notes and an empty cup of noodles which seemed to be opened a day ago… that was one thing. He couldn't find any other signs of you sustaining your body.

"What have you eaten this past week?" Scaramouche questions with urgency underlying his voice. "I passed by your kitchen and your dishes were unmoved, the fridge was just as full as the last time I went over here, and I only found three empty wraps of mints and a finished cup of noodles so far." his eyes scan you, as they always do, watchig your frown deepen at the realization of how much time has passed since you started to engross yourself in education.

"Sorry. I got carried away," it came out as a grumble in your chest, leaning onto the palm of his hand as it shifted to cup your face. "It's too late now, anyway. My body caught up with my head, I'm tired. Would it be too greedy of me if I ask you to hold me?"

Scaramouche clicked his tongue, his hand dropping from your face entirely to hold you in his reach wordlessly. "Greedy? You're spouting nonsense again. How bad did you fry your brain? You barely had one to begin with," he mumbled under the light hearted tone of his breath. He's moreso frustrated on the fact you're capable of neglecting yourself this much, and brushing it under the rug like it's nothing. Although you're not wrong, anyway, he doesn't put up more of a fight than he already is.

"Don't eat too much of the snacks or you'll get a bad ache in your stomach. Give me a minute, I'll order a meal," he instructs, pulling his phone from out of his pocket and typing away.

You idly blink to his way as he does so, stuffing your cheek with a biscuit while a soft hue coloured the tips of your ears. "Nnh, you love me." you grinned at Scaramouche's unquestioning aid, leaning against him with a drowsy, dreamy sigh.

"Of course I do, dumbass. Have I ever made you thought otherwise?"

"No. I have you wrapped around my pinky finger."

"Exactly, now shut the fuck up. Food will be here in a few minutes, and I still need you awake by then. Don't force yourself to speak, I'll handle what I can."

Could you really fight back now, when he's so adamant in taking care of you?

"Mhm…"

main navi!

[verystrxxwberry]

I don't know if you take really explicit asks but what about the eldarya guys eating p/ssy? Thank you so much, stay safe alex!

ELDARYA; the routes eating you out (NSFW)

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, dirty words and scenarios, ANE & TO routes, reader with vag, oral sex. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Thank you, stay safe too! :)

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

EZAREL

A tease.

For him, eating you out is like a way to prepare you for the real action, it’s a part of the foreplay. Yet he is so intense that you might need a break after it.

His lips did a great path from your neck to your collarbones, then chest, then stomach until he found your thighs. He is playful even when it comes to sex, testing your patience with his way to edge you. 

The moment he lowers your panties and can get to admire your pussy, he doesn’t wait a single bit to taste it. He uses his tongue to part your folds, doing slight pressure against your entrance and then going all the way up to lick your button playfully. He uses his hands to keep your thighs apart, adding some strength at some point to keep them separated.

He focuses mainly on making your entrance prepared for later, his tongue adding more lube to it. The tip of his tongue presses gently against your entrance, seeming to enter, but then he licks all the way up to find your clit and sucks on it once again. He does this several times, edging those urges you had of feeling him inside one way or another.

Ezarel is addicted to the way you gasp and whine under his actions, looking up at him with a mocking grin as he keeps licking your sensitive button once, twice.. Again, and again…

He focuses then on sucking the button, giving you enough stimulation as one of his hands gently caresses your entrance. Soon you’d be feeling two fingers scissoring your insides, making sure you enjoy but you also can get used to the space they take.

He’d make sure his fingers go along with the pace of his licks, guiding himself by the sounds of pleasure you made to go faster… 

And right when you feel that ticklish feeling forming in your lower stomach, everything stops. You stop feeling your sensitive button being sucked and you feel empty- when you look up you only find his amused expression as he is sucking his fingers. He just edged you.

But do not worry, he will make your orgasm more intense after it.

NEVRA

Drowns himself in it.

Nevra’s touch never fails to make you shiver and he is aware of the reactions he can get from you. He kneels in between your legs and kisses your thighs, where he'd give a bite to, until he reaches your pubic bone.

Your fluids never fail to make him even more turned on, making him sigh as he feels you squirm due to the bite. But then he aims to give a kiss to your lower lips, taking his time to kiss the small button, giving it small, slow licks. Then he goes down and licks your entrance. 

Nevra becomes handsy when he is eating you out, holding you by the waist as his thumbs give you small caresses as his tongue explores your insides. His hands would also play with your nipples, adding more stimulation to the situation so you can enjoy it. 

He buries his tongue as much as he can inside of you, tongue-fucking you in a slow yet precise way to make you squirm greatly right under him. He absolutely adores being the reason why the room is filled with so many pretty sounds. 

His free hand travels down to help him make you feel more intense stuff. His fingers lazily circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure around your body. He can even feel that pleasure on his tongue due to your walls clenching around him.

Nevra aims to make you cum in his tongue, no matter the time he needs to be working on it. He gets addicted to your taste, basically making out with your hole and tongue-fucking you with an increased speed. 

No matter if he makes you reach the orgasm once, he won’t stop until you seriously need a rest. His nasty ass will decide to kiss you so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

VALKYON

Your chair.

Not even kidding. When he said that you could sit on his face, he truly meant it. And bold of you to assume that he would feel bothered by your weight, just sit down and let yourself enjoy the wonders his mouth can do.

He would hold you down onto his face as he kisses and sucks your sensitive button with gentleness yet a passion that Valkyon holds deep inside. His hands caress your waist and go down your hips, until they rest on your ass firmly.

Valkyon focuses on using his tongue on your hole as his nose brushes against your clit, not even minding if he can’t breath for a few seconds. He needs you to ride his face, and he will encourage you to do it if you don’t dare.

He is a big and strong man, do not fear crushing him. He is achieving a nice dream of his which is being in between your thighs, eating you out as you sit on his face.

Feeling the desperate way you ride his mouth to reach the orgasm fuels his desire, making him moan against your clit as he sucks it, using his tongue to rapidly hit it. The vibrations of his moaning only helps you to feel even better. 

Be as loud as you need to be, he will be grateful. His hands would gently squeeze the flesh of your ass as you moved against his mouth, helping the angle to make you cum in his mouth.

He cleans your juices with his tongue, groaning as he enjoys the taste of it. As you moved from his face, you could see that he needed his time to accept that he was in paradise just now. You could even see a stain through his boxers from how much pleasure he also received from it.

LEIFTAN

Slow and gentle, he enjoys it.

His favorite moment of the week is when he can be squeezed by your thighs as he worships your pussy. I always mention this, but I can see Leiftan adoring to give you oral since the first moment he went down on you. He feels like he can relieve your stress, he can also show you his love for you but the most important is that you can feel great thanks to him.

He takes his time to admire every part of your body with his hands as he kisses you, going slow to check that he has your consent at every moment. He firstly starts with his fingers, using the same juices that were on your needy hole to rub against your clit; using this lube to make the friction better.

Once he sees that you are sensitive enough, he lies down in the bed, right in between your legs and places them right over his shoulders. He looks up at you and asks softly “are you alright?”, the warm breath brushing against your clit as he gently kisses it.

God, he adores it when you answer with a shaky tone. He feels proud of himself for achieving those reactions from you. He slowly meets your clit with his tongue.

He uses the tongue and fingers combination. His mouth is mainly focused on your clit, and sometimes kissing around the area or parting your lips with his tongue– In the meantime his fingers gently pound into you. 

His free hand is holding yours, interlocking fingers gently. He likes to feel when you squeeze it <3.

Leiftan’s eyes focus on you to check your expression, finding it both adorable and hot. The moment he feels that you are close, he hums and closes his eyes, his attention completely on you and your sounds. 

It reaches a point in which you can hear the slaps of his palm against your skin as he fingers you precisely and fast enough to your liking, soon making you see the stars. As you recover from your high he gives small kisses around your thighs.

LANCE

Eats you as if you were his last meal.

Oh, he is eager, and even if he mixes it with playful behavior, at some point he’d be forgetting about taking a breath and he’d be devouring you for his own pleasure. Of course he will be attentive in case you want him to stop, always respecting your limits. But expect to be overstimulated.

Lance is a greedy man, and when he sees something he likes, he needs it. And when he saw your pussy exposed for him, he knew clearly what he needed. You didn't even expect him to lean in and lick your clit, the shiver you felt made him realize that he wanted to see you shiver some more.

He adores when you pull his hair as he hungrily sucks and licks your clit, his hands gripping your thighs apart. He only has a goal, and it is to taste your juices. When your clit is reddened and erected enough, he goes down to lick and tease your entrance, groaning at the taste of something he liked.

He will slow down his pace if he sees that you are close, edging you slightly so you can have a more intense orgasm and you can give him even more of his favorite juices.

You could hear him groan and whisper some stuff related to how good it tastes, or the pretty view he has, or the pretty noises you make. He lowkey talks with your cunt at some point…

Lance would have to separate a little to gasp for air, but then go back to job.

If he gets thirsty he will use his fingers inside you, making sure you can get to squirt at least once for him. He wants to refresh his mouth it seems.

He wouldn’t be satisfied with you coming only once. He needs more of your juices, more of your moans, and he won’t stop until his jaw already hurts from the exercise.

MATHIEU

Inexperienced.

He is a nervous mess because he has never eaten a pussy before and he is afraid of your clit falling off or him doing a terrible job that will disappoint you. So he asks you to guide him at first, because he needs to explore what are your preferences when it gets to be eaten out. 

He would hold both of your hands down, interlocking your fingers together as he kneels on the floor, your legs resting over his shoulders. Mathieu starts slowly, kissing your lips gently, going up and giving small kisses to your little button, his tongue being curious and giving soft licks around it. 

Seeing the way your breath seems to get heavy when he does that, he carefully makes it constant and slow, licking your clit in circles, slowly and careful to not make your cunt hurt. He wants to treat it wonderfully for next times.

You should remind him that you also have a hole to stimulate, because he’d be so focused on making out with your clit that he’d forget about it. But hey, if you are fine with only that stimulation, then he will keep going. 

His hands squeeze yours, moaning softly against your clit as he licks and sucks it. He is enjoying it more than words can tell, yet your reactions, the situation and him doing such a dirty thing for the pleasure of you both will make him easily stain his pants.

Mathieu loved the experience, and he knows that with practice he will get much better at it. So he needs to practice with you :^

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