#Sometimes I say things and they get No Response and I feel like the skull emoji lol

[chicago-geniza]

Someone said they were singing Lekha Dodi to the tune of Bella Ciao at the encampment and I said "oh, like a reverse John Brown's Body" but nobody got it :( (religious text sung to melody of secular radical song instead of secular radical text sung to religious melody)

[p4ranormaluv]

SOMETHING RED — 성훈

you thought when sunghoon finally found you he’d rip your guts out— but no! turns out he just wants to be in your guts.

PAIRING: ghostface!sunghoon x f!reader

GENRE: smut, thriller

CONTENTS: stalker ex!hoon, dom!hoon, sub!reader, autumn setting, murder, brief desc. of dead body, chase scene, dub-con, knife/fear play, blood/pain kink, injury, degradation/praise, petnames: bunny/sugar, rough sex, oral sex, hoon grips reader’s neck but no choking, hair pulling, spanking, size kink, orgasm control, fingering, squirting, over stim, creampie, one neck bite, passing out

WC: 5.1k

NOTE: spooktober fic #1 👻 yunah version of this fic here!

WARNING: i posted a yunah ver. of this fic under this account! so if it looks familiar that’s why! i don’t have any other accounts i post my works on currently, and if i do i will add them in my navigation or bio. if you see someone stealing my works please lmk.

you’re responsible for the media you consume! i tried to tag everything but there may have been things i missed.

COPYRIGHT OF @/P4RANORMALUV. IF YOU STEAL MY WORK I WILL FIND OUT & PUBLICLY CALL YOU OUT.

“i had a really good time tonight, y/n.” your date smiles as you stand at your front porch.

“yeah, me too.” you reply, and you’re telling the truth.

after almost 4 years since you fled away from your hometown, and your ex (sunghoon, or rather ghostface, as the civilians like to call him), you’ve finally gone on a date.

it honestly should have been perfect. it was a simple evening. you went for ice cream and afterwards walked around a nice park to talk and feed the ducks, appreciating the beautiful colors the trees are turning. your date is an absolute gentleman, he won’t stop smiling at you and laughs at all of your stupid jokes. he’s acted like nothing but an overall sweetheart the entire time.

and yet, that’s the very thing that was wrong with the date in your mind.

it was simple, perfect, sweet…

no tension or skip of your heart beat, no wondering what will happen next. there was just…no thrill.

you think sunghoon has really fucked you up. even after all this time you’re still comparing people to your ex. your crazy, obsessive, killer ex.

god, sometimes you even catch yourself wishing he’d pop up in your life again. but after you found out it was him who was killing all of the people in your life and town, anyone who he deemed as getting in the way of your relationship, you panicked and immediately called the police.

no one has seen him since, evidently. you certainly haven’t.

but do you really wish you would? if he saw you again he’d probably kill you.

“y/n?” your date says gently, breaking you out of your stupor as you blink at the man in front of you, noticing how he’s gotten significantly closer than when you last noticed.

your porch light’s obnoxious hum is the only other sound as he gazes at you, giving you a hopeful, prompting look— sort of like he’s expecting something. you think you know what it is, but you suddenly feel like you’ve turned to stone.

“we’ll go out again, right?” he whispers as his face inches closer and closer, smiling at you sweetly.

“i’ll— i’ll text you.” you vaguely answer.

your date laughs again even though you haven’t said anything funny, raising a single hand to gently hold your arm as he finally realizes he’s gonna have to take full initiative. puckering his lips, he leans into yours as he shuts his eyes. you don’t do anything except let your eyes bulge out of your skull, before at the last second turning your head, causing his kiss to land on your cheek instead.

he pulls away while blinking widely in surprise, before his cheeks bloom a pink blush and he laughs—…again. it’s starting to be less charming and more annoying.

“you’re so cute.” he says, thinking you’re just shy.

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you soon?”

“sure!” you lie. “goodnight!”

you wave before immediately shutting your door.

you sigh tiredly, appreciating the beautiful glow of the moonlight that gently illuminates your otherwise dark house.

flipping the switch that lights your stairs, wood creaking beneath your feet, you walk to your bedroom. the night’s air is fresh, and the soft sound of rustling leaves always helps you calm down. so you open your bedroom window, letting the gentle breeze spread goosebumps across your arms.

moving to your dresser, you grab a tank top and shorts along with some panties before going into the bathroom to take a shower. you sit your fresh clothes on the bathroom countertop, stripping off your dirty clothes and letting them pool at your feet.

when you get in the shower you feel your previous stress melt off of you with the warm water, all thoughts and worries forgotten— temporarily at least. after about twenty minutes you step out, quickly wrapping a towel around you as the water dripping off your body and the chill in the air makes you shiver.

you move to grab your dirty clothes left on the floor to put them in the hamper, but your underwear is missing.

“what the heck,” you mumble to yourself, shaking out the clothing in your hands, checking if the item wasn’t just tangled amongst them.

“looking for these?” a voice— his voice— asks.

you gasp as your body jolts, feeling your heart spike in your chest when you look up to see ghostface standing at the bathroom’s open door.

he’s wearing his mask, signature big butchers knife in his hand as he twirls around your panties from it’s sharp point.

and…blood.

blood is on his hands and dripping off the weapon’s edge.

“y’know, i expected you to still be anxiously locking all the entrances of your house for a while longer, but you stopped only a year into moving here…” he thinks aloud with sarcastic wonder, lifting up his mask to let his eyes drink in the image of you clutching your towel to your chest.

sunghoon lets your panties slip off the knife and drop back onto the floor before stepping closer to you.

he moves slowly, making your panic worsen as he corners you into the bathroom like prey. a small, frightened noise comes from your chest when your back hits the wall, sunghoon’s face closer than ever as you watch his lips raise into a smirk.

“can you tell me why that is, bunny?”

your body trembles at the nickname that hasn’t been directed to you in years.

sunghoon started calling you that after one of the first dates you went on, the two of you watched a scary movie and you criticized the characters who were so easily killed.

“do you think you could do any better?” sunghoon had asked, smiling at you patronizingly yet fond.

“well, yeah? they always get killed cus’ they do something stupid. like lock themselves in one room or crawl through a fucking cat door.”

“and what would you do?”

“run.” you had simply answered.

“well?” sunghoon drawls, hot breath puffing into your face as he stands practically against you.

his knife is still raised, gently grazing the tip over your cheek as his eyes follow the movement.

“who’s blood is that?” you struggle out, feeling the crimson liquid trickle down your neck.

“drop your towel.”

“w— what?”

“i said drop your fucking towel, y/n.” he grits, moving the knife to apply harmless pressure to your neck— but it’s there, and it’s threatening.

the damp fabric lands with a thump on the tile floor, leaving your nipples to harden from the bite in the air.

“should have left that window fucking shut…” you whisper, but sunghoon catches it with his close proximity.

he steps back just enough to run his perverted eyes all over your body, weapon moving from your neck down to your breasts.

you inhale shakily, sunghoon chuckling under his breath.

“yes, you should have. although it wouldn’t have mattered. i came in through the front door that you also conveniently forgot about.” he replies to your statement. “which brings me to my question that i asked first, why have you been leaving everything unlocked, y/n?”

you glare up into his eyes with wavering bravery, sunghoon finding you to look more like a scared, defenseless animal.

you don’t speak, trembling lips pressing into a thin line. sunghoon slides the flat of his knife over your nipple, spreading the leftover blood across your skin and causing you to flinch as a small moan escapes you.

“you missed me.” he states with suffocating confidence, seeing right through your facade— knowing how you really feel.

“you still love me. don’t you, bunny?”

he presses his chest against yours, the rough material of his shirt giving stimulation to your sensitive nipples as he moves the weapon back up towards your face. the steel blade swipes across your mouth, staining your lips red.

sunghoon tugs down your bottom lip with his thumb, rubbing slowly side to side before pushing inside your mouth. you take it without thinking, staring up into his eyes as you suck on his appendage, wincing at the steely taste of blood.

“still such a slut.” he marvels fondly, eyelids drooping as his breath gets a little heavier. you bob your head just slightly, like you would do to his cock, and sunghoon reacts with a groan. your pussy clenches at the sound.

“well, you didn’t exactly answer my question, bunny. but since you’re so cute and helpless right now, i’ll have some mercy and answer yours.”

he pulls his thumb back and you don’t release it until it comes out with a wet pop, sunghoon groaning lowly before slamming his lips onto yours. he swallows your moans as his empty hand roams your body, fingers feathering over your bare pussy, trailing up to grope roughly at your breast before firmly wrapping around your throat.

you squirm. any shame has left your mind as you try and rub your cunt up onto sunghoon.

he’s playing nice for now it seems, pressing his jean clad thigh between your legs and letting you hump against him. you whine into his kiss as the denim makes contact with your clit, biting on sunghoon’s bottom lip unconsciously in pleasure.

he grunts at the slight pain, slapping your ass before gripping it roughly and digging his nails into your flesh.

you lick his bottom lip and suck on his tongue in apology, sunghoon’s nails retracting to rub soothingly over the skin that is now littered with red crescent cuts.

“god, i love you, bunny.” he groans lowly. “it’s your date’s blood.”

“h— huh?” you gasp, eyes widening as sunghoon stares deeply into your eyes. “you…did you kill him?”

“do you care?” sunghoon quips back cockily, but you recognize the tinge of jealousy in his tone. “he was too soft for you anyway. you like it when someone is rough and makes you feel dominated, don’t you? someone big enough to overpower you?”

he speaks in a dark tone, hand gripping your hip with possessiveness that’s sure to leave a bruise.

your breathing picks up again, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions— though you’re not sure what any of them are.

“fuck you, sunghoon.” you spit, the man maniacally laughing with clear amusement.

“sure, sugar, later. right now i think i’m in the mood for a chase.”

he says this as he steps away from you, leaving you confused as he stares at you expectantly.

“well?” sunghoon lifts a brow, lowering the mask to cover his face completely again, gripping his knife a little tighter. “run, bunny.”

fear settles its anchor in your stomach and you take off like a bullet, water and blood dripping from your naked body as you run down the stairs. there’s only the sound of your panicked gasps of breath before ghostface’s heavy footsteps creak down the steps, coming right after you.

your first thought is to go the front door, but when you open it you're greeted with the massacred body of your date sitting in a bloody, gutted heap of red and pink mush.

you scream, immediately slamming the door shut as you choke on a gag that tickles up your throat.

ghostface makes it down the stairs, taking large but calm steps towards you as his knife gleams in the moonlight, black plastic eyes staring blankly at you.

“stop!” you cry, suddenly thankful for the wrap around layout of your house as you run right, out of the livingroom and into the hallway.

you can go to the kitchen, bedroom, or second bathroom.

everything is a dead-end except the kitchen, which has two escape routes to the outside: a latch window and the back door.

you quickly open the bedroom door to throw ghostface off and quietly sneak into the kitchen.

risking taking the time to carefully open a drawer and take a knife out— just in case, you then hurry over to the back door and turn the knob.

there’s the sound of something slicing through air before you yelp as it cuts into your hand, forcing you to jump away from the door.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” ghostface warns as he walks in, creepily melodic with how he speaks.

you look back at the doorknob, seeing his knife stabbed into the wood from the force ghostface threw it with, your blood splattered in a small area against the white paint.

“now look at that, you made me hurt you.” he says with mocking sympathy, his dangerous tone making your knees feel weak with fear.

you keep switching your eyes from looking at the window to ghostface.

he just stands, watching with undivided attention as he can practically see the cogs turning in your brain, waiting for what you’ll do next like he’s watching a mouse in a trap. (or a bunny in a snare.)

you suddenly run out of the kitchen’s second entry, ending up at the living room again and booking it up the stairs. you wouldn’t have had time to make it out the kitchen window with ghostface right there, but maybe you can escape through your bedroom window. it’s already open, and even though your house is two stories, there’s a tree right next to it that will shorten the drop— if you can reach a branch without falling off the roof.

when you get to your bedroom ghostface is hot on your trail. you try to slam the door shut and lock it, but he presses against it from the other side right at the same time.

you push as hard as you can to shut the door, but ghostface has always been much stronger than you.

busting the door open, your body is flung backward as you land on the floor, knife falling out of your hands and sliding away from you.

you scramble on the ground to get it back, just barely grasping it in your hand before ghostface grabs and flips you over onto your back, ripping his mask off and letting it clatter to the floor.

“s— stop it, sung— sunghoon.” you struggle to get out from how your body and voice shakes, pressing your legs together in fear and ignoring the wetness between them as sunghoon cages your body with his limbs.

“oh, are you going to make me?” he challenges with no fear, the smile on his face clearly expressing that he doesn’t take a word you say seriously.

“go on then, bunny. take a stab at me.”

sunghoon drops his own knife from his hands, baring himself to your mercy.

your eyes widen, hands shaking as you pathetically raise the knife.

you look from his eyes to his vulnerable stomach that you could easily plunge the weapon into, and back up to his eyes again.

sunghoon slenders his gaze at you, as if to say ‘you can’t do it, can you?’.

you burst into sobs, dropping the knife and hiding your face in your hands.

sunghoon leans down to coo at you, running his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead.

“i knew you couldn’t do it, bunny. i’ve been watching you ever since you left town, and you know what i found out?”

you take watery gasps, wiping off your tears so you can look up at sunghoon.

you know the answer, even in your messy state. it’s apparent throughout everything in your life, after all these years and all the decisions you’ve made.

“i—…that i n— never stopped loving you.”

“that’s right, sugar. couldn’t even bear to kiss your date, could you?”

you shake your head, cries reducing to sniffles as sunghoon cups your face with his still bloodied hands, the liquid beginning to dry as it feels tacky on your skin.

“it’s okay, bunny. you were a good girl, so i won’t punish you…too much. as for him— well,”

he laughs, but it sounds hollow, devoid of anything other than hate and rage. “he got what he deserved.”

suddenly sunghoon is picking up his knife and hoisting you up, your waist thrown over his shoulder as you gasp in surprise while he walks over to the bed.

sunghoon takes a handful of your ass, admiring how it jiggles when he jostles it in his hand before giving it a hard spank. you whimper and push back into his palm, wordlessly asking for more.

“slut.” he chuckles under his breath, throwing you roughly on the mattress a second later.

sunghoon places his knife on your nightstand as you sit up on your elbows to look at him curiously. he practically devours your body with his eyes as he strips off his shirt, your mouth watering at the revealed expanse of his tapered waist and sculpted abs. you can’t help but whine when he slowly pushes the waistband of his pants and underwear down, hard, huge cock slapping against his stomach wetly.

“missed this, bunny?”

you only whine, feeling like the desparate whore that you are for sunghoon as you blatantly squeeze and rub your thighs together, trying to bring any sort of relief to your needy pussy. you practically feel edged by everything that’s transpired so far.

“come.” sunghoon orders, pointing at the floor in front of him.

you know what that means, quickly getting off the bed and on your knees, looking up at him with pathetically begging eyes. he only acknowledges you with a piercing stare, picking up his knife again as he moves it beneath your hairline, pressing the cold, flat side of its blade into the nape of your neck.

“now suck.”

you’re eager, enveloping his dick into your watering mouth and pushing yourself as far down the long shaft as you can muster. you gag, sunghoon’s salty pre-cum making you salivate for more as you don’t pull off, only trying to push his cock deeper down your throat.

even as your eyes squeeze shut, choking around him— you don’t stop.

not until sunghoon roughly pulls you off by the hair, a deep sound coming out of you as your mouth is suddenly empty, gasping and coughing while a string of saliva hangs from your lips.

“did i say swallow me whole? dumb whore. suck.”

you immediately do as he says, apologizing with your eyes and pliant little hums around him as you envelope just the tip in your mouth, sucking on it delicately like a lollipop.

sunghoon bares his teeth at the teasing pleasure, watching your lips that are glossy with your own spit prettily wrapped around his big dick. you look so small and helpless like this: kneeling, naked, someone else’s blood drying on your body— as well as a little of your own.

sunghoon thinks you’re most beautiful like this. his slutty little bunny trapped in the snare he’s made just for you.

grabbing a painfully tight fistful of your hair, he slams your face against his pelvis. you’re reduced to choking sounds and sputters as you struggle to take the sheer size of him into your mouth, sunghoon continuing to catch you off guard as he starts bobbing your head up and down his shaft like a cock sleeve.

you cry and moan at the feeling of him using you like a cheap whore, your pussy throbbing with the need to be touched but being ignored— and it only turns you on that much more.

your scalp burns as sunghoon keeps yanking you by the hair, spit seeping out of the corners of your stretched lips and running down your chin.

“almost forgot what a dirty slut you could be, bunny. f— fucking shit!”

hearing sunghoon’s hard resolve crack, you’re hit with another wave of enthusiasm.

you swallow around him, doing your best to lick and suck whenever you get the chance between the harsh movements he controls you with. then you have an idea, and without a second thought you’re executing it.

moving a hand down to your pussy, you smear the generous wetness on your fingers, lifting them up to cup sunghoon’s balls, fondling them with ease thanks to your slick.

“god— fuck! good girl! that’s a good little whore. choke on my dick while you make me messy.”

you feel like you could almost cum just from sunghoon’s words, the tingly pain at your scalp, and the full mouth of dick you’re taking. moans almost rhythmically come from your throat as your free hand goes down to rub desperately at your neglected clit, hips making trembling movements at the pleasure that’s not enough while at the same time being too much.

“bunny, oh— damn. you really like me fucking your mouth, don’t you sugar?”

“mm—hmm,” you moan around him, sunghoon starting to snap his hips more aggressively. you feel his dick pulse in your mouth, a deep growl coming from him a moment later, signaling his soon release.

“you ready for me, bunny? you ready for my cum?”

please, please, yes— you want to say, but it only comes out as whimpers as his cock bruises the back of your throat.

your thighs begin to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer. sunghoon moans out, pressing his hips flat against your face as his dick throbs, pumping a huge load down your throat. that paired with the feeling of his knife pressing harder into your neck sends you into white hot ecstasy, shaking like a leaf and thighs clenching around your own hand as you ride it out on your soaked fingers.

sunghoon’s dick is dripping with your spit and his cum when he pulls out, still hard as a rock and catching his breath as he slowly jerks himself off, wincing at the painful pleasure after just cumming— but not able to stop as he’s mesmerized by how much of the both of you there is, mixing all together with each movement of his hand.

sunghoon then looks over at you just as you’re pulling your hand away from yourself, groaning as he sees the wet webs between your fingers.

“get on the bed, bunny. ass up.”

your movements are clumsy as you’re still weak from the hard orgasm, but you want more, so you do as he says. sunghoon gives you a helping hand, making sure you don’t fall as the both of you get on the bed.

sunghoon sits up on his knees behind you. your ass looks amazing in this position, and your legs are spread, completely unable to hide your dripping pussy from sunghoon’s hungry eyes.

you turn your head, looking back at him with fucked out eyes that ask for more. he smirks, placing both hands on either side of your hips before stooping low to go down on your sloppy cunt.

“oh— fuck, su— sunghoon!”

you’re so turned on, and if you really think about it (which you’re trying not to), you probably shouldn’t be— not after what he’s done.

and yet, here you are, whining like a whore as the ghostface killer fucks your pussy with his tongue.

he can’t get enough of your taste. he’s went years without it after all, and sunghoon finds he’s going feral now that you’re finally in his mouth again. he delves his tongue as deeply as it can go, paying attention to what movements make you cry louder. sunghoon makes sure to pull out and suck your puffy clit between his lips, proud at himself with how it makes your legs quiver, before shoving his appendage back inside your core and fucking it in and out of you.

“hoonie, please,” you beg, already needing release as you’re sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“no,” he barks, annoyed that he even has to separate his mouth from your pussy to speak, reconnecting with you immediately after.

you dare to whine defiantly at him, and sunghoon reacts by reigning his hand down on your ass.

the hit is hard, making your eyes widen and taking your breath away as the strength he uses on you is unexpected. you can feel your skin tingling and hot from where the slap landed, and somehow it just makes you feel even more needy.

sunghoon knows you liked it, he can tell by how your pussy is contracting around his tongue, making him smirk against you as he keeps eating you out with no mercy.

you wiggle your hips just slightly, side to side, unable to keep still as you just need more.

you feel sunghoon’s annoyed growl, the vibrations of it sending a shock of pleasure straight to your core. he spanks you again, right on the same spot as before. this time a sob is ripped out of your chest at the pain, your face burying into the bed.

“you’re a bad fucking girl, can’t even do what i want you to.” sunghoon grits as he removes his mouth and shoves two merciless fingers inside you instead, roughly curving them as his thumb rubs at your clit. the amount of pain and pleasure is equal now, making you want to pull away while at the same time, push closer. the sounds your pussy makes as sunghoon quickly moves his fingers are loud and should be embarrassing— yet all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel and how badly you need to cum.

“hoon, i— really i can’t— can’t take it!”

“oh you’ll take it, bitch. if you want me to fuck you with my cock by the end of this.”

“no— yes! please, want your cock!” you blubber, the thought of not getting it making you feel as if you could cry at any moment, that paired with how meanly sunghoon treats your desperate little pussy, fucking it like he wants you to squirt all over the sheets— yet refusing to let you.

“i’ll be good, hoonie! i’ll let you do whatever you want, just— let me cum!”

the man doesn’t say anything, fingers not stopping as you feel his other hand’s nails dig into the flesh of your ass again, leaving more claiming cuts into your skin.

“fine, filthy slut. cum.”

the relief and pleasure of finally letting go is too much, your hearing is reduced to a high pitched ringing, and you’re not sure if your eyes are shut or if your vision has blacked out.

when you come back to, you’re on your back, sunghoon’s hands all over your body as the look in his eyes looks like he’s truly lost it.

“hoon, can’t,” you pant out as he starts lifting your limp leg to his shoulder.

but he doesn’t stop, his frantic movements continue, only looking up at you with pupils you swear are blown out.

“you’ll let me do whatever i want, remember?” he speaks out roughly, his throat scratchy either from eating you out so vigorously or from being so turned on.

“even if you didn’t let me, i’d still do whatever i want with you.” he cruelly chuckles, smirking down at you. the points of his teeth remind you of a wolf.

guess you really are the bunny.

you whimper— and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or twisted arousal.

tears fill your eyes as you watch sunghoon grab his huge cock, jerking it a few times to spread his cum. (not that he needs to— you literally just squirted.) you can only imagine how big the stretch will be inside your tiny little pussy to fit his huge girth. you’ve taken it before of course, but your insides are crying out in sensitivity, and your head feels foggy, like you could fall back out of consciousness again.

“please, hoonie, please—“

you’re words are cut off by your own agonized cry as sunghoon’s cock feels like it’s piercing your guts, pushing and pushing until he’s down to the hilt.

then he starts thrusting into you with enough power that it pushes your head against the headboard, your hands moving up to brace yourself as your hiked up leg tightens around his shoulder.

despite everything, you can’t help the delirious moan you let out, feeling your pussy ooze more fluids you didn’t think you had at this point.

“my slutty little bunny, huh, y/n?” sunghoon almost coos, if it wasn’t for how his teeth are harshly bared.

“missed my big dick abusing your insides, didn’t you, bunny?”

you sob, tears racing down your cheeks as your hole helplessly clenches and suffocates on sunghoon’s huge, unforgiving length.

“admit it. admit you’re a dirty whore for me.”

“i am— i am, hoonie!” you pant out breathlessly, each of his bruising thrusts feeling like they punch the breath right out of you. your chest aches from the big gulps of air you take. “m’a whore, such a dirty whore for you, sunghoon— fuck, please!”

sunghoon’s pants almost match up with your own, his body starting to tremble as he moves to lean down on his elbows against the bed, the new position forcing your leg to stretch even further— causing sunghoon’s cock to ram even deeper inside you.

“you’re mine. you hear me, bitch? you’re fucking mine! don’t ever think i’m gonna let you run away from me again.”

“oh god— i’m cumming!” you scream, unable to even ask for permission or try to hold back as your body convulses with the waves wracking over your body.

the only thing that keeps the darkened edges of your vision from completely taking over is sunghoon’s dick driving into you, chasing after his own high as your pussy spasms around him. you’re almost too tight, your core literally unable to take his huge size anymore as sunghoon forces his cock in again and again, balls slapping crudely against you.

when he finally busts inside, sunghoon clamps his teeth down on your neck, the sensations overwhelming him as he fucks you full of his cum.

he doesn’t pull out, even when your crying doesn’t stop, he keeps your poor abused pussy plugged up with his full load by his huge dick.

once sunghoon catches his breath, he glides his tongue across his teeth, curious at the taste of blood in his mouth.

“hoon, you bit me.” you whine, pouting at him as you try to look where his teeth left bloody marks into the junction of your shoulder.

sunghoon sighs, and you can tell by the noise and how his eyes flit over the wound excitedly that it turns him on.

his tongue licks over the bite in apology, cleaning up the blood before pressing little kisses all over it.

“you make me crazy, bunny.” he whispers lovingly, eventually pulling away from your shoulder to hover above your face.

you stare at each other silently, before you tilt your chin up, begging for a kiss with pouty lips and shiny eyes.

sunghoon smiles, those wolfish teeth still poking through slightly as he leans down to capture you in a slow, passionate kiss.

it tastes like blood and cum.

your blood and cum.

the realization frightens you only a little bit, the stronger emotion being some sort of sick arousal.

sunghoon might be crazy over you, but he’s definitely made you crazy as well.

REBLOG/COMMENT TO MAKE AUTHOR SMILE

NOTE: divs by adornedwithlight

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 16

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Lloyd draws your other leg around him. You cling to his shoulders to keep from slipping, terrified of the fall. Your fingers curl into his muscle and you watch how the water slakes down the meat of his chest. He might be mean but he’s got a hell of a bod. 

He keeps his hand on your neck as you squeeze him with your knees. He dips his other hand below your ass, kneading the flesh. He flutters along your folds and pushes his fingers inside. You gasp and he growls. The spatter of water pings off his shoulders and sprays your face. 

He shifts his stance, bending his legs as he wiggles his pelvis. He traps his tip between his knuckles and grits his jaw. Your eyes widen and you slap your palm to his chest. You look down as he dips his tip into you. 

“Shitttttttt,” you hiss. Your nails sink into his shoulder and your other hand strains against his chest. He tuts and thrusts into you. You gulp and garble. Holy fuck! 

You throw your head back and bite your lip. It hurts but not as bad as you expect. He rams deeper as you press your crown into the tile. He pins you to the wall as he bucks again. Oh, wow. 

Tendrils crawl through your guts as he rocks against you. Your toes tingle and scrunch and your thighs aches with tension. You swoop your arm around his neck and lift yourself, grinding into him as the friction sparks in your clit.  

He moves his hand to your chin, his fingers stretching up your cheek. He snarls and your eyes flick open to meet his. He pumps his hips and you whine. 

“Bad girl,” he sneers. 

“Huh?” 

“Not supposed to talk, sweet lips.” 

He ruts and you cry out. Your face contorts and you puff out desperately. The steam adds to the sheen of sweat beading over your skin. You arch your back but he only slams in deeper. You whimper and slip your hand along his side, hugging him around neck and back. 

He snickers, “you fucking want it, you dumb slut.” 

You nod eagerly. You can’t argue. You do. And you are a bit stupid sometimes. It doesn’t matter, as long as you get yours.

You tighten your hold on him and push through his grip. His hand dips behind your head and he grasps your skull. You jut your chin out and heave, working against his motion. He cups your ass as he helps you, lifting and dropping you onto his cock. 

You forget his single rule. You don’t care about anything but the flames licking at your insides. It doesn’t matter that you’re trapped in this house with this maniac. The only thing that matters is dangling just out of grasp. 

“Mmm,” you moan. 

“Shut up.” 

“Fuck, you’re like... inside me?” You bat your eyes dumbly. 

“Yeah, uh...” he stammers between shallow breaths. 

“You’re fucking me,” you say as the words make your inside clench around him. He rasps and chokes. “Like you’re so deep.” 

“Fuck off,” he snips. 

You look down and exhale through your nose, “oh, like... it’s so weird.” 

“Stop... talking.” 

“Deep inside...” 

“Fucking dammit. Quit,” he throttles out. 

“Yeah, you’re nasty, aren’t you? Fucking me in the shower. That’s kinky.” 

“Fuck. Stop,” he commands you. You can’t stop. You don’t know what you’re saying or why. You’re just trying to process what’s happening. It shouldn’t feel this good. Why doesn’t it feel so good? 

“So deep,” you murmur as you ride him. “Oh, oh, I feel it...” 

“Would you--” he doesn’t finish as his words drift into a moan. 

“Oh, oh, woah,” you drone and close your eyes. You’re close. Very close. You’ve never felt this full. “Ohhhhhh.” 

You shake as you feel his muscles draw tight. He presses his forehead to yours and his breath plumes through the steam. He grunts as he chugs through.  

You quake as your core boils over. You squeal through your climax and stutter out, “o-oh, o-o-oh, Floyd. Yes, Floyddddd.” 

You drag out the orgasm and he gurgles. He spasming as his fingertips dig into your scalp and you feel him burst inside of you. The sensation sends another thrill through you. 

You slow as he quivers and pants, his head sinking down next to yours. He rests against your shoulder as he stills and lowers you to your feet. You plant your soles flat and he slips free of you. He wobbles as he stands straight and braces himself with a hand on the wall. 

“What the fuck?” He barks. 

“Huh? What do you--” 

“Floyd? How many fucking times do I have to tell you?” 

“I...” you lean against the wall, dizzy in the afterglow. “Look, I... I wasn’t thinking. You were... you were... we...” 

“Lloyd. It’s fucking Lloyd!” 

“I’m sorry, okay? Uh, it was good, wasn’t it?” 

“That doesn’t matter,” he retorts. 

You feel a gush spill down your thigh and make a face. You look down and touch your leg, “ew.” 

“Ew?” 

“Just...” you hold up your shining fingers, the shower spraying between you in a misty curtain. “it’s... inside me.” 

“Fucking Christ,” he rubs his temple. 

“I mean, it’s hot but... messy. Don’t you think?” 

“You don’t fucking stop.” 

His grumble follows him as he turns pushes open the showed door. He steps out, sliding it shut with a slam. You wince and stare at his foggy figure on the other side. You look down again and shrug. Well, since you’re already in here, you may as well clean up. 

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT with a reader who would literally get into a fist fight for them?? Literally, if someone even looks at them wrong reader will throw hands. It's literally that meme (Random person) "GET YO FUCKING DOG BITCH" (MCYT) "it don't bite" "YES IT FUCKIN DO-" I'm sorry I'm feeling silly 😔

OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT AND THE REFERENCE TO THIS MEME LMFAOOO OH MY LORD BSHWJRHEJJAJW ; very vine oriented so I apologize. you threw me into a loop referencing that

MCYT ; "anytime, anywhere, I'd beat a bitches ass for you"

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, slimecicle, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, talk of blood/injuries, physical fighting, vine cringe because I got very carried away and you can tell

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he was one of those kids in high school that made light offensive jokes but would never fight anyone over anything, he's not a violent person at all other than in his jokes

but God forbid some random person look at you two weird in public, you're on their ass

you're more offended that they were judging Tommy at all, you couldn't care that they were judging you

"sorry, do you have a problem?" You squint your eyes at the person, "me and my boyfriend are just trying to shop and you keep following us around and staring, like, can I help you?"

just a teenage Karen

yall do take it outside when the motherfucker follows you out and begins to record you

you beat this fuckers ass to a PULP

Tommy's just holding the few bags of stuff you'd purchased staring down, jaw on the fucking floor like "Oh my God wtf do I do"

he had the vlog camera on so he kinda got it all on video before he pulled you away from the person

yall sprinted the hell away bc the security guards were running towards yall 😭😭

#neveridentified

#the person admitted guilt anyways and said they were planning to hurt you so no point in trying to track yall down for self defense

#i barely know the law shush

RANBOO

they just kind of accepted that you were like this

"I do not endorse violence unless you are y/n. I can't make them un-violent. I have tried, they're a vicious guard dog now"

hurricane Katrina? more like hurricane tortilla when you enter the building

yk the free style dance teacher vine? that'll be ranboo out in public and someone will stare at them all weird and you'll glare back

"walk away, walk away" you mumble, watching the person hurrily walk away as they see you like glaring daggers into their skull

your dynamic is the one vine that's like "Oh can I have a sip of your water?" and "It's not water or vodka, it's vinegar" "bitch what"

then you'll go make angsty edge lord posts to the one bojack horseman audio "I'm not a violent dog" and insert a clip of you beating the shit out of someone in high school

FREDDIE BADLINU

you post the "look at all those chickens" vine on your Twitter everytime you see a hate comment made for one of you

you love instigating fights w people online it's the funniest fucking thing

if you don't know how to reply to some dumbass edgelord response you'll just spam the guacamole vine until they shut up

"wait, why does y/n have so many soaps?"

"MIND YOUR FUCKIN BUISNESS DAVID"

Freddie's response to your violence is usually the saxophone seal vine. he genuinely laughs everytime he sees you fighting w someone online

sometimes you'll stream it while you wait for a response and while you're fighting online trolls who've been brainwashed by Twitter

"You're gay?!?!?!?11??11"

insert the "ms keisha dead" vine and the battle is over idk what to say

fight fire with fire I guess

NIKI NIHACHU

she hates yet loves that you'd fight ppl for her

oh, someone treated her wrong? you'll be trending on Twitter for fighting the person

#y/u/n will literally be at number 1 for a week

people edit the fight too

she appreciates it though, even though she doesn't exactly like to promote violence, she'll accept it from you

"Oh, don't worry about them, they're just a little... nervous around people sometimes"

"nervous? girl that mf is SNARLING at me"

you'll see a post that's like "me when someone tries to start shit w my s/o" and reply with the "hahaha I do that" vine

when I tell you she CACKLES reading online fights with people 😭🙏

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

"get the F off my yard!" proceeds to have to drag you away from situations where someone's actin a little funny in a /neg way

he genuinely thinks you fighting people for him is funny

he'll tell the stories on stream and to his friends like "dude they fucked this guy up, I honestly feel bad for laughing"

honestly most the time it's people victimizing themselves

like that one meme where the lady very obviously and fakely falls over that bench on LIVE TELEVISION.

he's your biggest supporter

he's the old guy from that one vine of the kid singing "Oh wait a minute mister postman" and he does the whole ass high note

"here's y/n fighting someone for idk what because they're talking to the police 😋"

you're a problem at this point

QUACKITY

you've physically fought so many wild racists for him it's crazy

he'll gladly cheer you on

"AHHHH COME GET YO DOG BRO HELP"

"Oh it don't bite"

you proceed to bite the bitch

online fights are usually responded w the purple teletubby twerking meme

"L don't be a weak ass racist pussy next time"

you fight Logan Paul for some reason??? Twitter drama mostly

don't worry quackitys there to watch

17-3 don't worry... ehehehrhahahha

when he tells you that you need to stop instigating fights you send him the "They ask you how you are but you just have to say that you're fine when you're not really fine" meme BAHDNHAHA

FOOLISH GAMERS

"YOU KNOW WHAT DUDE? IM OUTTA HERE" vine in a nutshell with you two. I can't explain this but it makes sense I swear

"whatd you do to your eyebrows?" meme except its "Whyd you fight that person!?" "I don't really know!"

Twitter fights are like "and they were roommates!" "ohmygodtheywereroomates" I swear to fucking god

you love instigating shit with Twitter trolls

when you stand up for him/reply to edgelord haters for him he replies with the "country boy I love youuuuuuu" vine

"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKIN MONEY!" vine with the law and order intro is literallt how physical fights go

let's just say some stalker edgelords tracked you guys down at the streamer awards...

HE AND PUNZ GENUINLEY CHEER YOU ON

here you go trending on Twitter again

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 8 // Masterlist

Demon!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (both f and m receiving), fingering, edging, bondage, cum swallowing, heavy angst, talks of murder and (mild) decapitation, mind control, psychological torment, mentions of toxic and manipulative friendships.

Your arousal burns through him.

It’s not like your pain, it doesn’t slide like a needle between the layers of his skin, awakening discomfort that makes his heart beat in a worrisome rhythm.

Your arousal is different. New to him, and still a little unfamiliar, but he knows it when he feels it. It’s like a soft hand on his skin, the ghost of your touch trailing from his ear down his neck. It’s the sensation of your fingers drifting into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp and makes the hairs on his arms stand on end.

That’s how he knows you’re aroused, when it feels like you’re touching him all over all at once, when realistically, you’re currently just holding his hand.

He finds great appreciation for the feeling, as you tug him through the busy streets. He doesn’t know what you’re looking for, too caught up in your emotions to focus on the destination. 

It’s odd, he’s never felt someone else like this before, never given anyone the opportunity to. 

A strange pleasure courses through him, that he’s the one responsible for your arousal, that his earlier actions have made you excited, and desperate for him. 

His mistress wants him.

He’d do anything to please her.

.

.

TEN MINUTES AGO.

Billy has seen his fair share of assholes to know when he’s looking at one.

He’d almost wiped the six-foot tall man clean off the face of the earth for trying to hug you, before absently remembering he was in a public place.

If that wasn’t enough of a reason, he could see the way you were discomforted by the brunette’s appearance, the faux pleasantness of your smile, the stiffness of your shoulders. Billy was aching for blood just at the idea that you might not want to interact with this human at all.

When the man had asked about him, you’d glanced back with that same forced smile.

“Oh, this,” you'd said with barely any hesitation, “This is Billy, my boyfriend.”

The words echo in his head. He looks down at you, feeling his mind rage with the desire to take you. He’s surprised he’s still able to formulate a thought with the way he wants to drop to his knees and sink his tongue into your cunt.

He feels something expand in his chest. His mistress, claiming him in front of others so easily, so readily, made him into a beast of a man, filled with so much want for just a few moments.

The man extends his hand to Billy, and Billy at least musters the courtesy to shake his hand without shattering all the fragile bones beneath the skin, introducing himself.

“Dimitri, I’m the former best friend.” 

He nods in acknowledgement, thinking that it’s a little odd to go around introducing yourself like that.

He looks at you, takes a deep breath.

“Wow, you look amazing.” Dimitri says, and Billy wants to rip his eyeballs out of his skull for even daring to look at you.

.

Your skin crawls at his comment. You swallow, smiling and try to accept it, wishing for this interaction to be over with.

“Thanks, Dima.” You whisper softly, using his nickname accidentally.

His smile widens.

“We should hang out sometime, catch up, you wouldn’t believe the things I have to tell you.”

You blink, wondering why he was so friendly to you, as if the last time you’d spoken had never happened.

You try not to think about it.

“That might be nice,” You say politely, “But, I’m so swamped with things I have to do, and I might be travelling soon too.”

“Really? Where do you work now?”

Fuck, how do you get out of this one?

“I’m not really working anymore, just sort of… freelance.” You hoped it was enough to deter him from asking any more questions.

Dimitri only tilts his head in confusion.

“Really? That’s a bold move. I remember how much you used to struggle with being independent back in college.”

You swallow forcefully.

“Yeah, well, not anymore.” You say softly, feeling smaller and smaller under his gaze. You take a small step back, and you feel Billy’s hand find a spot on your back to remind you that he’s here.

Dimitri looks up at Billy, and you can almost tell that something awful is about to be said.

At the same time, you notice the woman helping you from before approaches, and it somehow helps to see her coming your way.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says with an easy smile, “I just need confirmation of a contact number?”

You nod at her, knowing that Billy doesn’t have that information.

“I can help,” You offer, following when she angles her body to head back to her customer help desk. 

“Bye, Dimitri.” You say quickly, hoping he takes the hint and leaves. 

.

Dimitri doesn’t leave.

Instead, he turns to Billy.

“I don’t know how long you’ve been with her, but I have to warn you. Honestly, I wish someone had warned me before I put so much effort into getting to know her.”

Billy sucks in a deep breath, glancing at you, before looking back at the man in question.

“Warn me about what?”

“She’s got… issues, big ones, and she leads people on and then gets upset when they… respond… if you know what I mean.” Dimitri says.

Billy’s trying hard not to lose his cool.

“I thought you were just her friend.” He says easily.

“I was,” the other man states, “but she’s got some problems and I just wanted to give you a heads up, man to man.”

.

You’re waiting patiently for the woman to enter your number into the system when you feel uninhibited rage swell in the back of your throat.

Your mouth falls open in surprise, breath halting in your chest as raw anger claws its way into your head.

You turn your head quickly to glance at Billy, who’s got his eyes fixed on the shorter man, the look on his face is calm rage, like a snake, coiling tight before an attack.

The woman at the counter, having no idea of the rage swarming your system, smiles at you and thanks you for your time. 

You can only give her a distracted nod, walking back to Billy quickly. He looks down at Dimitri, raising an eyebrow casually.

“I don’t see much of a man.” Billy says, and you blink in surprise, wondering what was said when you weren’t there.

Dimitri, not one to swallow insults easily, straightens, squares his shoulders angrily trying to make himself look bigger, more intimidating. You stand a small distance away, too stunned to interrupt the conversation fully.

“Go to hell. I was only trying to give you a heads up. She’s going to smile at you, and beg for comfort and make you think that she’s in love with you, and the minute you take her seriously, she’s going to push you away.”

You blink, looking away, a sharp spear in your chest at the reminder of the things he’d said all those years ago.

It’s the look on Billy’s face that holds you transfixed. He’s angry, his body completely still and for the first time you’re not sure about what he’s going to do next.

Shamefully, the look in his eyes goes right down to your core. This was the man that was capable of taking lives, and though you had somewhat domesticated him, this was what lay beneath the surface at every waking moment. This was the oncoming devastation, and you could feel the rage, his rage, hit a breaking point inside of you.

“Go home and cut your arm off.” Billy says, watching the man’s eyes widen in shock.

“Billy, no.” You murmur, finally finding the words to interrupt him.

He huffs, looking down at you for a second.

“One hand?” Billy offers, and receives a shake of your head.

“Two fingers?” he tries again with the same reaction.

“Fine,” Billy sighs, “One finger, but that’s as low as I’m going.”

“Billy.” You admonish.

He looks back at Dimitri angrily.

“You have no idea how amazing she is.” he says, anger rolling heavily in his words, the colour of his influence cloudy in Dimitri’s eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with her. There never was, and there never will be and you’re lucky that she’s so kind cause I’m ready to make you eat your leg off for her entertainment.” He watches Dimitri swallow.

“So go home, cut your finger off, wrap it, and go to a hospital, and you better thank whatever god there is, that she doesn’t hold grudges.”

When Dimitri is two steps away, Billy speaks again.

“Oh, and Dima?” Billy says mockingly, watching the man turn back with a terrified expression on his face.

“Let’s forget about this, yeah?”

He only nods before scurrying away.

.

.

Perhaps you should have been angry with him.

But there was something about the coolness of his anger now, the way you could almost feel the fire burning inside of him, like red hot steel being plunged into frigid water. 

The way he’d acknowledged your protests, but still finding some way to punish your old friend, like a balance being struck between your disposition and his. 

In truth, you knew it was a very wrong thing, but you also found yourself barely caring as you reached for his hand, and pulled him out of the store.

You try to be reasonable in your head about it, Billy could have killed him out of your sight and you would never know, so this had to be a better alternative…

…right?

Or was this just you trying to excuse your involvement in Dimitri’s punishment?

Regardless, you couldn’t feel your morality at the moment, all you could feel was the empty space inside you, begging to be filled, to be used by him.

And you needed it now.

.

You tug him into the first cafe you find. 

With a lovely outdoor theme to the interior, earth tones and the smell of coffee in the air, you definitely make a little note in your head to come back later.

You’re not thinking too much about anything though, simply following the signs that point to the bathroom.

Billy doesn’t even question when you tug him into the ladies’ room and then into a spacious stall with a door that goes all the way down to the floor.

The stall door barely has any time to close, before you’re pressing your body against his, rising onto your toes and holding on to the back of his neck to bring his face down.

Your eyes close as your mouths mesh together. You hear a little groan slip from the back of his throat.

His hands grip your hips, and when it’s not enough, his arms encircle your waist, crushing your body to his in one swift move.

You can't help the little laugh of surprise that leaves your mouth at his display of enthusiasm, grinning against his eager mouth for a moment. He returns your amusement with a smile of his own, and a dark promise in his eyes that reminds you of who he is, and what he's capable of.

It happens like a switch flipping inside of you, in one second you’re eager to kiss him, blissful with the idea of finally getting his mouth on yours. But it’s the way his mouth feels, the way his hair catches on your fingertips and his beard scratches your cheek that turns gentle need into something indescribable.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, leaning into him, little whines slip from your mouth when you feel like he’s too far away.

Like a burning in your head that demands him, in every way possible.

As high on your toes as you can get, you wobble a little when you try to get even higher, feeling his tail reach out in response to that, wrapping around your leg in an attempt to keep you steady. You groan when his tail brushes between the apex of your thighs. Pulling back for a quick breath, you raise one leg to wrap it around his hip, his hand sliding under your rear smoothly to support you. 

His mouth is hot against yours, matching your fervour, an amused chuckle against your mouth when you whine. 

He moves so passionately, fingers on your chin to tilt your head up so you can feel the searing heat of his desire for you.

You finally build up the courage, gripping his jaw tightly, encouraging his mouth to open so that you can press your tongue into his mouth teasingly.

He lets out another low groan that goes right to your core, shredding at your sanity when he pulls you even closer.

"Mistress-" Billy attempts to speak, trying to inquire about doing this in a more comfortable spot, instead of the bathroom stall of the cafe you'd just tugged him into.

You're not having any of it though, hands gripping the back of his neck roughly, tongue delving into his mouth with so much wanton need that he can't think to deny you.

You can't seem to stop, or focus, your only desire is to show your appreciation, despite how empty your cunt feels.

You move from his mouth, kissing over his cheek and over to his neck, delivering open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin, hearing the heavy labour of his breath increase.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, teasing him, daring to press your teeth into the column of his neck. 

His hiss delights you, hands tightening their grip on you, showing you how much he really likes what you’re doing to him.

When the edge of his shirt gets in the way, you huff angrily, tugging at it so that you can bite down on his collarbone.

"Take this off." You command , tugging at his shirt.

“Mistress,” He tries to protest again.

“Billy,” You hiss, “Now.”

His shirt disappears in a puff of purple.

You drag your short fingernails against his skin, groaning in delight at the opportunity to have him, rubbing your face into his chest, appreciating the feel of his hot skin on your cheek, touching his body the way you always dream of. When you want more balance, you drop your leg from around his hip so that you’re on your own two feet.

You reach for his belt next, tugging at the leather, before reaching a hand down to cup at his erection through his pants.

“Wait.” He sighs, and it stops all your movement. You look up at him with wide eyes.

It takes you back into your head for a moment. Were you going too far?

He’s leaned back against the door,  breathing in large heaves of air.

His hands cup your face, fingers tingling against your cheek, you wait patiently for his words.

“Are you sure?” He asks, dark eyes studying you.

Oh. Oh.

“Very.” You reply, “Are you?”

He inclines his head.

“Good.” You utter, keeping your eyes on his as you drop to your knees in one swift movement.

His eyes go red.

You reach for his belt again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. You undo his button and zipper in record time and gently tug his boxers down, salivating at the first sight of his cock.

Billy groans, he senses the increase in your arousal, feels it like you’ve got your tongue dragging on his neck while you’re eye level with his cock.

His breath stutters when your mouth seals over the head of his cock.

“Mistress.” He shivers, head hitting the door as he drops his head back.

You take your time, moving slowly, remembering the way his cum makes you feel, thinking about pleasing him this way, your cunt sticky under all your clothes.

Jaw open wide to accommodate his girth, you hum, taking him down as far as comfortable, listening with delighted ears at the sounds he makes in response.

He’s perfection, you acknowledge, he’s yours.

You take your time, bobbing your head slowly to a quiet drumming inside you, keeping a steady rhythm that you hope he likes.

You raise a hand to pump the rest of him slowly, as you angle your head to slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

A soft sound leaves his mouth, and you keep looking up at him when your tongue dips even further to touch his balls.

He looks down suddenly, hair askew with the sudden movement, eyes shining red as you sway your tongue from side to side at the base of his cock.

Billy reaches down, and grips the back of your head harshly.

“Mistress.” He utters breathlessly, bending down, he tugs a little painfully on your hair to bring your mouth to his.

Your lips against his feels so sinful, you straighten as much as you can from your position on the floor, humming, delighted that he’s interested in kissing you like this.

You keep pumping your hand on his cock, eager to keep him in that blissed out state, but you realise he might be stalling you when he refuses to release your hair.

You pull away from him, and when he tries to bring you back for a kiss by tightening his grip on the back of your head, you raise your free hand to uncurl his fingers from your hair.

“You’re distracting me.” You complain, looking between his cock and his face.

“Let me take you home. I’ll let you ride my face till you can’t breathe.”

“Later,” you hum, “I want your cum on my tongue.”

He grunts, straightening to allow you more access to his cock.

You immediately take him into your mouth, more eager than ever, need pulsing inside of you, pumping the rest of his cock that you can’t get your mouth on with your hand.

He groans, and it goes straight to that spot inside of you that aches for him.

Something shifts inside of you, and acutely, you’re aware of something else you can feel.

It glides through your body, like two fingers tracing itself over your skin, beginning at your core, it slips over your clit and upward to your ribs. You moan around his cock at the phantom sensation, pushing your head down until he’s at the back of your throat.

Up, over your breast, to your neck and over your cheek, you hum around his cock, as the touch tingles over your scalp.

You don’t know what you’re feeling, not sure what caused the sensation of this invisible touch so you pull back for a moment, looking around for his tail.

When you don’t see any presence of his tail, you look up, searching his eyes for an explanation.

“I feel… what is that?” You ask.

He tilts his head, red eyes flashing purple for a second.

You watch him swallow.

“My pleasure, mistress, you can feel it.”

Your lips part in surprise. The ghost sensation traces its way down your back.

A small smile graces your lips, before you kiss the tip of his cock.

“I like it.” you say to him, licking teasingly at the head of his cock and feeling the way the sensation travelling along your skin heightens.

You close your eyes, and hasten your rhythm, the smooth head of his cock gliding along your tongue and you think you’ve found a little bit of heaven at his feet.

“Mistress.” He groans, a little too loud for the space you’re in, and you think that might be his way of warning you that he’s on edge.

You only hum on his cock, hearing his breath stutter as you hollow your cheeks while taking him down as deep as you can.

You feel his body tense, the muscle of his thighs hardening until it’s stiff as a rock, and then his cock twitches, a small movement, before he begins to spill into your mouth.

You feel it, his orgasm, it rattles through you, makes your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. It’s like the rush of a heated wave, originating from the deepest spot inside of you, unfurling all the way down to your fingers, and the very tips of your ears. 

He moans, it’s a low, euphoric sound, that makes your body tingle from the experience of it.

You swallow his cum eagerly, milking every drop from him, making sure he’s got nothing left to give you before you release him from your mouth.

You can still feel his pleasure, the aftermath of it is just as strong as it was during, and as it settles inside of you, you can’t help the little giggle that leaves your lips.

His eyes still red, your legs wobble as you do your best to stand. He extends his hands to help you, and you grip his forearms tightly for balance.

“Did my lovely demon like that?” You ask, feeling your head begin to swim peacefully, the effects of his release beginning to affect you.

He studies you closely, hands cupping your cheeks to look into your eyes. You can only chuckle more.

Absentmindedly, you lick your lips, savouring the taste of him on your tongue, closing your eyes in bliss, swaying in his arms.

With your eyes closed, you feel him guide you into a very deep sway, and the next thing you feel is your back being pressed against cool, soft sheets.

You sigh happily, your skin sensitive, head lost in a daze.

“Mistress?” Billy whispers softly into your ear.

You smile, eyes still closed, raising a hand to cup his bearded cheek, the wiry hairs tingling along the palm of your hand.

“Yes, Billy?” You hum easily.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to lick your little cunt now.”

Your eyes peek open in confusion, feeling something smooth wind its way around your wrists, pulling slowly at your arms until they’re pinned beside your head.

“What?” you ask in surprise, not fully understanding where this is going in your semi-inebriated state.

“And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.” He continues, as if you haven’t spoken.

You can’t do much in your state, relaxed as you feel him carefully tear your shirt in two, exposing your warm skin to him. He snips the straps of your bra, tugging the material down so that your nipples are exposed to the cool air.

You gasp, whining as you pull a little on your restraints, a muted fire burning inside of you from the way he treats you as if you’re his plaything.

His hands are on your pants next, and he at least takes his time to unbutton them, peeling them off your legs, before something begins winding around your ankles too.

“What're you doing to me?” You whine, body aching more and more for each touch.

You turn your head to the side, noticing that the things holding your arms in place are just soft purple ropes. You give another tug, you feel your desire increase as you become aware of your inability to move.

You pant as your legs are pulled apart, you whine pitifully as you realise how exposed, open, and vulnerable you are to him. There’s a sweetness to it, something that makes your body yearn. It’s the thought that he could do anything he wanted to you at the very moment, and you would be helpless to stop him.

Usually that would scare you, but with your demon, you trusted him, wholly, maybe more than you should have.

Finally, you look up at him. His large frame hovers over you, between your legs, looking down at you with something fierce behind his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, and a pleased smile rises to his lips.

“Poor mistress,” Billy hums, raising a hand to flick gently at your nipple, making you gasp in response, “All wet and helpless and at my mercy. Do you want me to stop?”

Your head shouts the answer, but your mouth can only whisper.

“N-no.” You reply.

His other hand raises to touch your next breast, both hands toying with your nipples easily. You hiss, dropping your head back in bliss.

“No?” He mocks, “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please.” You breathe.

His grin deepens.

“You really trust a demon like me that much? Do you have any idea how badly I want to ruin you?” 

“I want you.” You whine, closing your eyes eagerly when he brings his face in close, hoping that he’s going to kiss you.

“I’d let you ruin me.” You continue, hearing a little grunt leave his throat in response.

“Open your mouth, mistress.” He says darkly, and you obey, parting your lips for him.

He hums, before sealing his mouth over yours, his tongue immediately meeting your own.

You moan, flicking your tongue upwards, delightfully rubbing your tongue eagerly on his, unable to move in any way. 

Your head fills with the worst ideas, that if he wanted, he could keep you here, bound, and still somehow you find that appealing. 

There’s a drumming in your head, a heat on your skin, the taunting ghost of a phantom touch as his pleasure swells within you.

He begins kissing you softly, his mouth fixed to yours as one hand flicks at your nipples, the other hand supporting his weight so that he doesn’t crush you.

He drops his hips, so that he can press his stiff erection between your thighs. You clench involuntarily, angling your hips as best as possible to feel him.

When you whine against his mouth, raising your head to increase the pressure of his lips on yours, he stops touching your breast to grip your jaw harshly. He squeezes, keeping your head still as he kisses you hard, his rough tongue delving into your mouth easily.

He pulls back with a grin, looking at you with red eyes as you pant.

“Are you still cum drunk, mistress?” He asks.

You swallow, nodding your head.

“Good.” 

Without any further words, he kisses your neck.

You hum, tilting your head to the side in a silent plea for him to keep going, a sharp gasp when his teeth drag along your sensitive skin.

You wriggle, but you’re unable to move, your bra is uncomfortable on your skin, and you hope he tugs the material off of your body soon. 

His tongue is wicked, sliding over each collarbone, before they connect with the stiff peak of your nipple.

Billy moans, the flat of his tongue gliding over the underside of your nipple, before being flicked meaningfully by the tip of his tongue.

He repeats the motion several times, before tearing the ruined fabric of your bra off your skin, and circling his tongue around your other nipple.

You cry out, blubbering, his arms sliding under you to encourage your back to arch, making it that much harder to move as he circles his tongue around each nipple.

“Mine.” Billy growls, and you feel your eyes almost roll back in your head at the way you feel- debauched and desperate, for him and all the wicked things he does.

He’s not very nice, his tail sliding around your thigh and pressing gently against your panties, rolling in gentle waves over your core, tormenting you, making sure you feel each caress. 

You feel his pleasure increase, like a breath over your skin, telling you that he enjoys this, having you helpless at his mercy below him and you crave the feeling of that like never before.

You know from past experience that if he wanted to ease your ache, he could easily increase his pressure to help alleviate your need, instead he only makes it worse.

After a moment, you gasp in surprise as you feel his tail work its way under the fabric covering your cunt.

You whimper, tossing your head from side to side, trying to find a way to get him to touch you where you need it most, but being unable to do much with the way you’re bound. 

When you try to close your legs, you feel his ropes snake higher up your ankles, and loop over your calves, stopping right above your knees.

“Billy.” You beg, “Please, I need you.”

“Shhh, mistress,” He soothes, “This is what you get for riling me up so badly.”

“I didn’t-” You try to argue.

“No?” he asks, his tail skirting your slit, offering only a small amount of friction, “Getting down on your knees, licking my cock like that, swallowing every drop of my cum- that wasn’t supposed to make me feverish with desire for you?”

“I only wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.” You whine, trying to argue as he presses his face to the plush underside of your breast, beard scratching deliciously over your soft skin.

“Thank me? Do you have any idea what seeing you like that does to me?” His hands cup your face, and you part your lips as he kisses you softly, “On your knees, looking up, that sweet mouth sucking on my cock like you need me?”

When you don’t answer him, he hums, biting softly on your bottom lip.

You groan, struggling against his bindings for show, knowing that you’re not getting free unless he wills it. 

“I’ll show you what it does to me.” He says softly, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You feel his tail drag upwards under your panties, hovering over your clit, and you sob desperately, yearning for him to touch you where it hurts.

Your thigh twitches involuntarily, body shuddering at how close he is.

“Please.” You gasp, tilting your hips up, sobbing as he moves his tail back too.

“Aw mistress, am I being mean?” He teases rhetorically.

You open your eyes, looking at him, his eyes have remained red the entire time. You think about what you could possibly say to get any semblance of relief.

“I loved sucking your cock, Billy,” You mumble, watching the red in his eyes darken, “I’d do it every day if you let me.” 

His mouth parts, and you note the sharpening of his teeth for a brief moment.

Before you can even focus on any one thing in particular, his tail begins to slide easily between your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling the appendage slide up and down, catching on your clothed clit, using the slickness of your arousal to move. You clench around nothing, gasping, aching for more, aching for it faster, and getting nothing but his slow, steady pace in return.

Suddenly his tail pauses, and you almost want to cry, only having a moment to open your mouth to beg when you feel his tail wrap around the waistline of your underwear, and pull it harshly till it rips.

“That’s better.” He murmurs, ridding you of the flimsy material, keeping his eyes locked to yours as his tail goes right back between your legs, grinding more purposefully on your cunt.

You drop your head back temporarily in defeat, arms and legs bound, unable to do much moving, all you can do is try your best not to squirm while his tail makes a mess of you. 

You’re forced into looking at his gorgeous visage, his arms braced on either side of your head, he looks at all the expressions on your face as you struggle against his bindings, failing miserably at your attempt to stay still.

He speeds up, and your mouth falls open at the delicious feeling, the steady touch on your swollen clit.

Your pleasure swims in his head, drunk on the power he has over you, enjoying every moment of watching you. There is nowhere he'd rather be right now than right here, not even the promise of Heaven could tear him from you.

He slows his tail not long after, watching the torment cross your face, feeling delighted that he can do this to you, that he can make you want like this.

“I should’ve left you hard,” You grit out angrily, groaning inwardly when his only answer is an amused chuckle.

“You talk too much, mistress,” He taunts, before taking his tail away from your dripping core to press it against your lips.

You only hesitate for a moment, opening your mouth easily, and letting his tail, wet with your own arousal into your mouth. 

The taste of you is tart on his tail, and you wrap your lips around the leathery appendage, giving it the same treatment that you gave his cock not too long ago.

“You look beautiful like this,” He breathes, red eyes memorising you, “Mouth full like a good mistress.”

Your chest flutters, but you can’t say or do anything except continue sucking on the tip of his tail. It helps distract you from the raging firestorm of desire inside of you.

He drops his head once more, and you gasp around your mouthful of tail as his rough tongue ambles over your sensitive nipples. 

You feel the vibration of his groan against your breast, and suddenly you let out a sound of surprise when the rope wrapped around your legs begin to pull them up and further apart.

He raises up, pulling away, his tail leaving your mouth empty as he leans back to look at you. The remnants of his saliva cooling on your breast, the lips of your cunt spread with the further parting of your legs. 

Vaguely, you’re aware that he can see every intimate inch of you, and you think you love that. You keep your eyes on his face, making sure he’s looking at your centre when you clench your inner walls. 

He looks up at you, his gaze is full of something familiar, something you’re acquainted with intimately at the back of your head, where all your sacred thoughts lie. It’s a look that promises pleasure, above all else.

He leans in slowly, and you watch carefully as the six-foot tall demon bound to you for eternity, dips his head to place a gentle kiss between your breasts.

Your mouth parts in surprise. 

He kisses over your stomach, over your belly button, scratching his beard along your skin, teasing you with the sharpness of his teeth.

It feels like nothing before, the careful attention he pays to each inch of your skin, feels like nothing short of worship to you. 

You shake, gasping, desperate, tears pooling in your eyes on the brink of crying.

He trails a line of kisses between your hip bones, your body screaming with need and your inability to touch him. When he's not satisfied, his rough tongue retraces the path, your stomach tightening as he leaves pleasure in his wake.

How was he doing this so easily? Playing with you? Toying with your body as if he'd been doing it for all his life?

You make a little sound when he kisses the inside of your thighs.

He hums, drawing away from your thigh to press his lips to the seam of your cunt, staying like that for long, torturous moments.

“Billy please.” You beg on a meaningful breath, desperate for him to do something after he continues to place soft kisses on your pussy for longer than you like.

“I love hearing you beg.” He hums, kissing over your mound gently, slowly, as if there is no rush. You can feel the truth of his statement through your connection, feel the way his pleasure heightens when you make any kind of sound.

Your breath catches in your throat, unable to form a coherent thought in your head that would be enough to push him into pleasuring you the way you’re desperate for. All you can do is lie here, with your arms and legs bound while he places delicate kisses onto your wet pussy.

Your body burns with desire, something dangerously hot, that can only be soothed by his touch. You can feel yourself clench, feel the breath of his laughter on your skin, the way your demon loves tormenting you.

You close your eyes, and you focus on him, you think about all the things you want him to do, all the ways you need him, you hope that the bond between you will help persuade him to have mercy on you.

You imagine him over you, cock pumping between your thick thighs while his tail fills you up. You think about the way you’d kiss his beautiful form. You think about exploring his broad chest with your mouth, tracing the veins on his hands, the way his cock feels, heavy and unapologetic on your tongue.

Between your legs, he lets out a low groan. His skin is hot with your desire, he feels it, the way you need him, the way you ache for him, and he can’t get enough of it.

He’s never felt anything like it, in his centuries of existing, he’s never felt someone as much as he feels you. He knows that he never wants to feel anyone else like this, like he can’t tell where the essence of your soul ends and his begins, or maybe there’s an overlap, a blending of the two of you.

He darts his tongue out, sinks it into your cunt, trails upwards until he meets your clit, savouring the way you taste, your arousal on his tongue, all for him. 

You gasp, tugging on your restraints, fighting his hold, and wanting to fight the featherlight touch of his tongue as well. Delight explodes behind your eyes, but it’s not yours you realise, it’s his. He gets enjoyment from tasting you. It makes you whimper, makes you need.

He torments you with his coarse tongue, like the demon you know him to be, gently moving across your clit, exciting your senses, winding you up like an object for his play.

You whine at the very idea of it, being used like this, giving yourself into the reality that he’s in total control of you, that it doesn’t matter what you want, your only purpose is to please him, to let him lick your cunt for however long, however roughly he wants.

It makes you that much wetter.

He takes his time, tongue slowly increasing its speed, moving in every angle over your clit, his careful precision to working you up, ensuring that your body feels good but not too good, a desperation being seared into your bones, or maybe even deeper, a place inside of you that belongs to only him.

His hands trail up from gripping your hips to explore the space beneath your breasts.

You gasp, feeling the tips of his long fingers tease the underside of your breasts, roaming even higher till he can roll your nipples between his fingers.

You say his name, pulling half-heartedly at your restraints, skin searing with open desire, gasping at the way he trails his hands lower once more, his fingertips ghosting over your skin, savouring the way you feel.

The phantom touch of his pleasure is all around you, trailing over your bound hands, up to your shoulders and neck, lingering on your lips.

You gasp, eyes rolled back in your head, lost in the feeling of his tongue when you realise you’re experiencing a clarity that you weren’t before.

You groan sadly, registering that while you’ve been captured in endless bliss, the effects of his cum had worn off.

You try to think about what it means, and what you want Billy to do about it, but it’s hard to focus when his tongue licks over your clit so often. It’s like he’s found the spot on your body that scrambles your thoughts and he’s been abusing that knowledge.

“Billy.” You sigh, calling for your demon, in hopes that he can pull himself from your dripping cunt for long enough to allow you any semblance of thought.

He only moans, rough tongue continuing its constant pace.

You shiver, raising your head, trying to get his attention away from your centre. You watch his head move down, the flat of his tongue connecting with your entrance before his head glides upward, pulling his tongue to meet your clit. He glances up at you with half-lidded red eyes, and as you look down at him between your thighs, he pauses, sliding his tongue slowly from side to side over your clit.

He looks lost in you, nothing registering behind his eyes except the taste of your cunt. You bite down on your lips at the sight of him like that.

You forget what you were thinking about, pulling your restraints taut in desperation, keeping you eyes locked on his as he continues to work his tongue sideways over your clit. A tilt of his head, and you watch his eyes close momentarily as he focuses solely on your clit, giving it soft attention, the perfect combination of right there and not enough.

You make a sharp cry of desperation, and he still doesn’t stop, his tongue speeding up, your toes curling as you begin to feel the burn of a slow oncoming orgasm.

He feels it, because he can feel everything you do, feels how badly you want him and he’s incapable of denying you anymore. He’s eager to taste your orgasm, feel you shiver on his tongue, he can’t stop thinking about it now, but he knows he has a point to make and he’s not stopping until you understand.

His pace doesn’t slow, licking you effortlessly, plump lips pressed together to trap your clit between them, using not just his tongue, but his lips as well to heighten your pleasure.

You shudder out a gasp, and then a little sob, dropping your head back, unable to think anymore. You take what he gives happily, because you have no choice in the matter, you’re at his mercy, despite how badly you yearn for release.

He hums, lips pressed to your clit, your body pulls tight in warning, mouth dropping open. 

You only feel a puff of air on your mound, as if he just let out a little breath of amusement, at the way your body begs for him.

He flattens his tongue harshly to your clit, rolls his tongue quickly from side to side, listening to the sound of your whimpers increase. 

You want to tell him how close you are, how desperate you are to come all over his tongue, almost ready to cry if he stops. The only thing that leaves your mouth is unintelligible sounds of insanity.

He knows though, he wants it too. To please you, to be owned by you.

Your toes curl, back bowing off the bed, everything held taught by the whims of your demon’s tongue.

And then he stops, detaches his mouth from your dripping heat and listens to you cry out in denial.

You open your mouth to beg him, but he’s already hovering above you, blunt fingers pressed into your jaw to turn your head to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

“Do you feel that?” He hisses, his lips right against the shell of your ear, “Do you feel how desperate you are? How bad it burns in your chest? That’s how I feel every second I’m not touching you, mistress.”

You gasp, trying to wrap your head around his words.

“That’s how I feel when you look at me, that’s how I feel when you kneel for me.”

He leans in even closer, till his nose is pressed to your temple, his lips right in your ear, his voice is a low grovel that thrums against your skin.

“Every time you wrap those perfect lips around my cock, you make me burn.”

“I’m sorry.” You finally say.

He raises his head, turning your face back to his.

“You are?” He asks.

You nod, trembling.

“I d-don’t mean to torment you.” You whisper.

The corner of his mouth lifts, you can see some semblance of sanity reappear.

“You don’t.” he states, as if this is news to him.

“I don’t.” You confirm, “I just want to make you happy.”

He grips your jaw tighter, leaning in.

“Why?”

Was that what this was? Insecurity?

“You do so much for me, Billy, and I like doing things for you too.”

“And if I couldn’t give you anything. Would you still…” His voice trails off, looking away.

“Yes.” You say swiftly, confidently, not letting the fear inside of him take root. “I’d want you even if you had nothing to give.”

Obsidian- the colour his eyes go next. You swallow, a tightness in your throat at the way he looks.

He looks back at you, eyes fixed on yours, dark veins spreading out from around his eyes as he tilts his head slowly.

He looks a little scary, the darkness of his eyes spreading out over his face, but like before, your body holds no real fear of him.

You don’t get a chance to say anything, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you hard.

You tilt your chin up, returning his fervour with need of your own, desperate to show him that you were his, just as much as he was yours. When you can see his face again, the black veins framing his eyes have receded, leaving just his dark eyes.

You wanted to touch him, you pull at the ropes with all your strength.

You don’t get a chance, he moves down your body once more, his head buried between your thighs in seconds.

You gasp when you feel his tongue again, you want to cry with relief.

“Oh god, Billy yes.” You moan mindlessly, tossing your head from side to side.

You tremble, hot tears spilling from the corners of your eyes, every nerve in your body on overdrive, trying to process how one person's mouth could have so much of an effect. He licks over you slowly, kissing your clit, wet sounds of his dextrous tongue filling the room.

What’s worse is the physical need for him, to touch every inch of his skin, to feel him, really feel him, and try to wrap your head around having a person to call your own.

He grips your thighs, squeezes your hips, makes you look up at the ceiling and feel the thoughts drain from your head like it’s a real, physical sensation.

He delves lower, tongue against your entrance a low groan from him as you endure the slow glide of his wet tongue against your walls, shallow, and yet desperate to get as deep into you as possible.

Your hands curl into fists, your eyes screwed shut as your shallow breaths grow loud in your ears.

You say his name but you don’t think he’s capable of hearing you, of pausing the motions of his tongue on your wet cunt.

He holds your pleasure hostage, and once more you feel the fight build inside of you.

You pull at your restraints, crying out when his tongue punishes your sensitive clit with a harsh lick, followed by tender kisses, right on your aching bud.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp, wriggling on the bed, “I’ve learnt my lesson I swear.” You say, trying to bargain with him.

He doesn’t answer, he just keeps going, hot tongue swiping over your clit, again and again, plump lips both a blessing and a curse.

He licks you for long minutes, until you lose control of your limbs, until they ache from being still, until you tremble, desperate to come.

“Pl-ease.” You draw out, voice shaking, your body begging, a roaring in your head that aches so badly you could almost cry.

Your mouth drops open when you feel two of his thick fingers press against your entrance. It hits you like lightning, and all of a sudden, you’re no longer in burning desire, but in a hazy rapture.

“Billy.” You cry, as he takes his time, working his fingers into you. You can hear and feel how wet you are, your head filling with absolute bliss, washing away any semblance of need you once had, any frustration that was being nurtured inside of you.

He keeps his strokes short, drawing out the pleasure you feel each time the thickest part of his fingers threaten to stretch the rim of your cunt, moving so rhythmically, lulling your body into a placid state. He gives you exactly what you need, filling you, licking you, delivering absolution from your burning.

You can’t feel anything except this pleasure, and a connection somewhere deep inside of you, that pulls you to him, draws you near, begs to be each beat of his heart, yearns to be each breath he takes, all paired with the feeling of his tongue lapping softly at your aching clit.

There’s a stuttering in your chest, one that you can feel pulsing in your nether regions as his pace increases. Your body gives no resistance to him, accepting him greedily, wanting more and more and more.

He’s there, giving it all to you, licking you to his heart’s content, pressing his fingers ever deeper, curling them a little, massaging the deepest parts of you, making sure you know that no one will ever make you feel like this.

You gasp in a big breath of air, pulling on the ropes still holding you firm, he lets out a low groan below you and you raise your head to look down at him.

His eyes are still wholly black, a void that pulls you in, the longer he holds eye contact with you.

Billy’s fingers hasten, and all of a sudden you’re right there, on edge again, losing any approximation of time, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you lose all semblance of sanity.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to warn him that it’s all too much, that his touch is unravelling you in the best way possible.

Eyes rolling back into your head, unable to think or breathe for a few seconds, locked in a sharp stasis, balancing right on the brink of euphoria.

And then on your next breath, a release like no other. You hadn’t even realised how tightly you were wound until your orgasm washes over you. You can’t stop the sounds that leave your lips, or the very first squeeze of your cunt around his thick fingers. 

One wave of bliss triggers another, and another, until you fall apart completely against his perfect, rough tongue, no hope of keeping your sanity amidst the oncoming flood of pleasure.

It takes you a moment of floating, before you can come back into your body again, only to realise that he hasn’t stopped licking you. You’re almost obsessed with the sensation of his touch, the deep press of his fingers inside of you, soft and languid, bringing you down almost as slowly as he’d lifted you up.

And then there’s the feeling in your head, pleasure swimming through your brain, tingling deep in your bloodstream, wave after wave of mindless, hazy bliss.

The ropes from around your arms and legs loosen, withdrawing, giving back the autonomy it had taken. You sigh with ease, squeezing your hands into fists, to remember how to move once more.

You can’t do much more than little flexes of your muscle, your body is too relaxed, unwilling to move.

He licks you one last time, before you feel his fingers withdraw, his mouth departing from the apex of your thighs.

His eyes are back to their regular red, and you sigh happily as he moves his way up your body.

“How was that, mistress?” Billy asks softly, his body over yours, his fingers sinking into your hair.

“Amazing, Billy, thank you.” You respond in a soft whisper.

He smiles, brings his head down to meet your lips with his.

You get a taste of yourself on his lips, and you make a sound of discomfort when his wet chin touches yours.

You press against his shoulder, breaking the kiss.

“Gosh Billy, your chin is so wet,” You complain, wiping what you assume is a mixture of your arousal and his saliva off your own chin, “We could really use a bath.” 

He gives you a slow smile, a potent delight in his eyes that makes you so happy in return.

“Yes, mistress,” He agrees, sliding his other hand below your body, beginning to apply a little force to pull you up toward him.

“One bath coming right up.” Is the last thing he says before he pulls your face up to his. 

His kiss distracts you, enraptures you, you hum happily against him, eyes closed and trying to ignore his sticky chin.

He dips you again with a smile against your mouth and the next thing you know is that your bodies are submerged in tepid water.

You don't startle, continuing to kiss him under the water, hands raising to grip his shoulders automatically.

You gasp when he pulls you up, and right into a sitting position on his lap.

He keeps the back of your head gripped in his palm, kissing at your cheek and jaw while you turn your head to the side with a little laugh.

You blink in surprise when you notice unfamiliar surroundings. You're seated in a moderately sized pool, right beside a beautiful open concept house. You turn your head the other way, feeling Billy's lips adapt to kiss your other cheek, noticing that the house is surrounded by thick jungle vegetation.

“Billy?” You ask, feeling his mouth kiss its way down your neck. His only acknowledgement that you've spoken is a curious hum.

“Where are we?” 

“Phuket.” He says, voice muffled against your chest.

“Thailand?” You say in surprise.

His only response is another hum.

You grip his face between both your hands, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. He gives you almost the same look that he was giving you before- when he was looking up at you from between your thighs- half lidded, calm.

“Why are we here?” You inquire softly.

“Bath.” Is all he answers, leaning in to kiss your chest again.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, looking down at him, trying to figure out why there was such a spaced out feeling in the back of your head.

“Mhmm.” He replies, lips on your breast, kissing your nipple gently, “Happy.”

Happy. That’s what it was. Like a flutter in the back of your head, behind your eyes, you could tell he was drunk on his contentment.

“Why happy?” You whisper, hoping not to break into his haze.

“Happy to… provide, mistress.”

You feel a tightness in your throat, an inundation of emotion, threatening to choke you with the fierceness of it.

You tilt his head up again, looking into his glassy eyes, before kissing him with all the fire you have inside of you.

You know if you could, if you weren’t afraid of the pain of it, you would slide onto his cock right then and there.

He moans against your mouth, probably receiving some indication of where your thoughts have taken you.

Your hands smooth over his neck, down to his shoulders, fingers feeling over his collarbones. 

“I’ve never swam naked before.” You say against his lips, feeling him laugh in response.

“Me neither.” He answers.

You push away from him playfully, smiling as you turn around to dip your entire body below the water, feeling the way the water moves around you. When you break the surface of the water for a breath, pushing your hair out of your face, you look back over your shoulder at him.

He’s in the same spot for just a second, before he’s in front of you, moving at speeds beyond your understanding.

You gasp in surprise, his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you against him. He lowers himself, pulling your legs around his hips, you let out a surprised gasp when his cock slots right between your thighs, tapping against your sensitive clit.

He kisses you again, mouth eager on your own, turning you and walking you to a place you can’t see, his hand gripping your damp hair, angling his head to deepen your kiss and leaving you struggling to catch up with his fervour.

He lifts you, resting your naked body on the edge of the pool, your bare ass warmed by the sun-heated wooden deck.

“Need another taste.” He says against your mouth, his tail wrapped around your thigh, gliding gently along the seam of your cunt. You gasp in amazement at his desperate display.

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he’s saying with the way you’re exposed, naked in the open air. The only thing stopping the sun from hitting you directly in the eyes is an overhead umbrella.

He pulls you forward a little, tossing your legs over each of his shoulders, muttering something that you can’t make sense of.

A quick kiss to your inner thigh and then his rough tongue sinks into the seam of your cunt once more.

His tongue moves a lot more meaningfully this time, no attempt to torment you, his only goal is tasting you.

You gasp, arms buckling from where you’re trying to hold yourself up, his tongue once more attempting to make quick work of you out in the open beside the pool.

You don’t try to stop him, or resist him, simply keeping your thighs parted so that he can have his fill of you, willing to give your demon anything he desired.

.

He hadn’t stopped until you were boneless, barely able to keep your head up, almost on the brink of passing out. 

It had been a really long day, and at the end of it, after he’d cleaned you up and tucked you into bed beside him, he’d hand fed you fruits while you were close to sleep.

“Thank you,” You breathe, face tucked into his chest while you chew on a grape, the sweetness of it is delicious.

His tail flicks happily against your thigh, swaying while your legs are tangled in the sheets of the bed.

“You’re welcome, mistress.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You want to tell him about Dimitri, but you decide that maybe tomorrow would be better. You didn’t want to interrupt the peace right now with those stories.

Sleep comes easy, when you don’t know exactly where you are, and you don’t even have to worry about it.

.

You're not sure what wakes you. If it's the lack of his heartbeat, or the coldness that seeps into your skin.

Maybe it's something else, a feeling, deep in your chest that something is not quite right.

You're immediately alert, blinking and looking around as if you hadn't been asleep at all.

You take a deep breath, let out a little hum, checking the time.

A little after one in the morning.

You look around for your demon, unable to find him.

You want to call out for him, but something in your head says not to do it.

He’s nearby, you can feel that too, in some kind of distress.

You look around for something to pull on, sighing when you can only get a hold of a satin robe, tugging it on quickly and also grabbing the folded blanket at the base of the bed and throwing it over you.

As expected, outside is cold, and you tug the blanket tighter to you, making sure it’s not dragging on the floor as you try to quietly look for Billy.

He’s not in the immediate vicinity, so you close your eyes, and you reach for him in your head.

Suddenly you feel a connection, like a tether in the air that guides you in his direction. You follow where it leads, taking you down a flight of wooden stairs, illuminated only by the light of the moon. 

With the forest on either side of you, you try not to focus on the possibility of any critters showing up, not wanting to think about what you’d do if you saw a lizard.

Or worse yet, a snake.

You take a deep breath, squashing your fears, determined to find him.

The stairs take you down to a little beach, with soft blue lamps at the end of the stairs. It’s so dark here that the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen.

There’s a jetty, stretching out onto the open sea, and a small open air hut at the very end, with a roof of something you think is straw above.

You take your time, stepping onto it, appreciating how sturdy it is, watching a little crab skitter away as you approach.

You can see him now, his hunched figure seated on a wooden bench looking out at the dark sea.

He doesn’t turn his head when you approach, and you worry that you’re encroaching on his personal space.

“It’s cold out here.” You whisper, referring to the chilly ocean breeze that washes over you both, you sit beside him, raising the blanket to rest one side of it on his shoulder, hoping to warm him up.

He doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything.

You want to speak, to say something to comfort him, but you're so caught up in saying the wrong thing that you say nothing at all.

Instead, you rest your head against his arm, breathing in the dark sea air with him.

The crash of waves calm you, rids you of any lingering worry and fear you once had.

You can feel his though, something whirring like a broken clock inside of his head, a fear he's too scared to talk about.

You take slow calming breaths beside him, pressing on that connection in your head, soothing over it like it's a knot in a muscle that you're trying to unravel.

“Hell,” Billy finally says with his voice shaking imperceptibly, “Is not hot.”

You smile thinking that this was an odd way to begin a story.

But you don't speak, you don't want to distract him, or break the cadence of his thinking or his words.

“From the second I died, I woke up in the same spot Frank had killed me in, except I wasn't really there.”

He takes a shaky breath.

“I went straight to Hell, and I stayed there for a long time.”

You raise your head to look at him, to watch him as he stares out at the dark ocean.

“My punishment was, understanding exactly what I had done, from every point of view that I had wronged. I lived through all of their lives, I felt their pain, their fear- so much fear, I watched myself kill them, I felt the helplessness of each life I’d taken. Maria, Frank Jr., Lisa, and the countless other people I’d killed- I relived their deaths, over and over again until I could only see a monster where I once saw my face.”

“I guess that’s how it starts, Hell shows you who you are, and by the time the punishment comes around, you know you deserve it with every atom in your body.”

Your lower lip trembles, sad, for your demon.

“They made me relive that night so many times, I can still feel the fear in Lisa when I found her, like lightning running down my spine, freezing my limbs in place. She was just a little girl, and I took the rest of her life from her without a second thought.” 

It gets hard for you to breathe at the very thought of it, your heart breaks for the people he’s hurt.

“Maria had only ever been kind to me. She’d taken me in like her own brother without a second thought, she’d given me a home, and I’d torn hers to pieces.”

You feel hot tears slip down your cheeks, unable to speak now, listening to him.

“What would you do to a person like that? A traitor, in every sense of the word. Frank was the closest thing I’d ever had to family, my brother, my best friend, he would have died for me. How would you punish me?”

You don’t want to say it, you don’t want to speak it into existence.

You stay silent.

“I’d tell you how I’d do it. I’d give that monster hope. I’d make him believe in something, believe that he could be better, that he could change. I’d show him what being wanted could feel like, and then when he was at his highest point, just as he believes that everything he’s ever wanted could be his, I’d take it all away.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the pain of his words is almost too much to bear.

“Is that what you think I am?” You ask softly, “A lesson to be learned? Something to be taken away from you?”

“What if you are? What if I’m still in Hell?”

“Which one are you more afraid of? That you are… Or that you aren’t?”

He shudders out a breath, unable to answer.

You wipe at your tears suddenly, sitting up.

“Billy, I can promise you that I’m a real person. I’ve lived through so much pain, and heartbreak, and loss and betrayal. It haunts me all the time. I don’t know if I’m a good person, but I definitely think I’d know if I was being used to punish you.”

“This is real, those stars up there are real, that moon, the ocean, the wind, the island- all of it is real and I’m real too, so are you and I know that because when I touch you,” You move your hand, reaching for his, “When I put my hand in yours I can feel you-” You suck in a breath, your watery vision meeting his.

“-I can feel you in my head, in my chest, under my skin and I know that you’re real because I know you can feel me the same way I feel you.”

He blinks, his hand tightening its grip on yours before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours harshly.

A cascading ripple of desire in your head, you raise your hand to cup his cheek.

“You have to remind me.” He says in between kisses, “That I’m real, and this is too.”

You smile into his mouth, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck.

“Of course, Billy. I will.”

He sighs, pulling you tight against his chest, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“My mistress.” He sighs.

My demon, you think.

.

You lie beside him, fingers tangled together while you look up at the stars.

He'd used his influence to get a cozy mattress onto the jetty, and you'd taken up a space in it easily after sitting on the wooden bench for so long.

The ocean makes its relaxing sound below you, rhythmic and soft, daring you to have any bad thoughts here.

“Will you tell me about… Dimitri?”

A sad smile pulls onto your face, you nod, knowing that at least your bad experiences will help ground him.

“We met at the start of college. He was a friend of my roommate, so he was kind of always around, and we just became good friends over time. I never really… liked him like that, but I guess he must have seen things a different way. He was really interested in the fact that I'd never had sex, and he always asked me about it… about my plans for losing my virginity. I didn't know at the time, but I guess looking back at it now, there were a lot of conversations we'd had that had made me super uncomfortable. I thought I was uncomfortable because I was inexperienced, but I think that those were uncomfortable situations to begin with.”

“What do you mean?” Billy interrupts.

“Well, he asked about porn preferences, and odd things like if I'd ever used my fingers- and we've spoken about the same things, you and I- but the context, the situations were totally different. I just wasn't interested in him like that, and he would just keep pushing me more and more each time.”

You shudder, remembering some of the ways Dimitri had made you uncomfortable.

“It wasn't… all bad, he really was a good friend at times, helping me out, being a real friend when I was sad, he even brought medicine for me once when I was too sick to move. But… one night we'd been hanging out, and he leaned over and he'd kissed me. I was so shocked, and I didn't really know if I'd wanted to do this with him or not, and it took me a little too long to figure it out. He was, on top of me, reaching for my jeans when I'd made up my mind.”

You pause, blinking, trying to stop the tightness in your throat.

“He got angry. He told me that I'd just been stringing him along this whole time and that I was a shitty person for making him try so hard to be my friend to get nothing in return.”

You take another slow breath, running your thumb over the back of Billy’s hand.

“It wasn't a scary kind of angry, he was just talking loudly. I just kept saying I was sorry, but I wasn't interested like that. Eventually he stormed off. But… in the aftermath, he'd made it seem to all our friends like I was some girl that enjoyed getting attention from boys, and enjoyed hurting them by making them invest time into getting to know me, only to reject them. Some of them didn't believe him, but the ones that did convinced the others to stay away from me and my roommate got so hostile that I ended up finding another place in the middle of the semester just to get away.”

Your stomach twists, not enjoying having to relive this.

“We'd been such good friends too. I could tell him anything at one point and he'd understand me, that just became another weapon used to alienate me.”

“I should have killed him.” Billy finally says, and when you finally meet his eyes, you see them red, angry on your behalf.

You let out an amused breath, followed by a little laugh. You lean in to press your face into his chest.

“Nah, killing him would be too easy. Having him live to see me happy would be way worse outcome for him. People with those kind of mindsets, well, they have ways of making their lives worse all on their own.”

He cups your cheek, his hands are warm, holding you so gently, tender in a way you've only ever dreamed of. He tilts your head up, so that you can look into his eyes.

“I'm sorry this happened to you.” He murmurs.

“Thank you, Billy.” You lean up to place a little kiss on his lips.

“And I'm so angry on your behalf, mistress. Believe me when I say that you're the only thing keeping him alive right now.”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him again.

You toss an arm over his body, pulling yourself closer to him, his tail adjusts itself around your thigh as you move. 

“Tell me something nice.” You murmur into his chest, breathing in his scent, wishing it would stick to your skin, “Tell me about your childhood.”

It's uncomfortably silent for a long moment, you get the feeling that maybe you've said something wrong.

“You can have something nice, or something about my childhood,” he makes an amused sound, “Not both.”

You groan, squeezing him tightly.

“That bad?”

“I'll put it like this, Hell could have punished me by making me relive my childhood and it didn't.”

“Oh.” You hum sadly, “I'm sorry.”

He sighs, reaching to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head back so that he can place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Don't be sorry. I'll tell you about it another time. But right now I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling as he kisses your mouth again.

“Of course. Look.” He says, angling his head in the direction of the ocean.

It's dark, and you have to squint your eyes to focus on anything. You wait for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing.

It's just the dark ocean, and the pretty stars in the sky. You feel your eyes adjust to the almost pure darkness that you were looking at, you swear you could almost see a very subtle cloud of light in the sky that you think might be the milky way.

“It's very beautiful, Billy, I love the stars.” You state, studying them as best as you could.

He chuckles beside you, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“So cute, mistress, but I meant the water.”

You blink, confused, you look down.

Suddenly, a streak of blue lights up in the ocean quickly.

What the hell was that? You think, pushing the sheets off your shoulders to stand, walking to the edge of the jetty and looking over.

Your mouth drops open.

Like the sky, the ocean is filled with twinkling light, but it's not a reflection of the stars, but the presence of something bioluminescent in the water.

“Oh my god.” You say excitedly, kneeling on the cold wood, leaning over to see as much as possible.

Any kind of disturbance in the water makes the organisms light up for a small moment. There's a ring of cerulean around the pillars of the jetty, glittering like living stars in front of your eyes.

Another streak of blue illuminates, and you gasp in surprise. You realize that they're fish, lighting up the water as they pass by.

You sit there, hypnotized by the look of the water for a long moment. Billy steps up beside you, and drops a pebble into the water, disturbing the surface so that it glows for you.

You giggle, looking up at him, extending your hands for pebbles as well so that you can toss them in.

He uses his influence to manifest a bag of pebbles that fit perfectly into the palm of your hand.

You feel like a child, transfixed with wonder as you dig into the bag for a few stones to toss into the water.

The ocean ripples with blue light whenever you drop a stone in.

The waves look alive with lustre, and you feel so small under the stars, staring out at all of it, feeling something deep in your chest that you've never ever felt before.

You finally find a way to ask a question that has been on your mind for a while.

“Matt… said that you were trying to corrupt me. Is that still true?”

“Yes.” He says with no hesitation, making something deep inside of you pulse.

“Why?” You ask softly.

“I told you before, I want to own you, the way you own me.”

You find that your arousal is more potent than your fear.

Your lips part, hesitant to ask.

“So, h-how do you intend to do that?”

You feel amusement cascade through your bond.

He leans in, his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.

“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head, mistress. It’s all going according to plan.”

Your eyelids flutter, your core tightens with excitement.

Perhaps you should be more afraid than you actually were… but where was the fun in that?

.

.

.

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Oh, man, this got longer than I thought. Alright, so, neural interface ports. Especially ones mounted at the nape of the neck. There’s something about the idea of that as an exploitable weakness, something you would feel as instinctually protective of as your own eyes, but also something that you use safely on a daily basis in well-defined contexts and sometimes in a personal, intimate context.

Let’s say you’ve got a friend who knows a thing or two about cybernetics. They’re a person you love and trust, and a powerful machine intelligence with a few non-manufacturer-approved tricks for getting the most out of standard, affordable hardware.

Laying on your chest with this beloved person straddling you, you can’t see what they’re doing, but they gently, reassuringly talk you through the process. First you have to deactivate your ICE, shut down all the defenses surrounding your mind, and voluntarily retract the physical layers of protective cowling between the outside world and your raw nerves. Then you feel the port exposed, cold air meeting nerve. A drop of lubricant fluid falls on your back from the cable they’re about to slide deep into your spine.

Your synthetic friend is wearing the customized chassis they know you like best. They know because they can measure your brain activity and physiological responses remotely, and it’s the one that makes you squirm. It’s animalistic, sharp-eyed, all hard geometric angles and reconfigurable joints that move with alien grace.

Those beautiful manipulator claws are stroking your neck and your shoulders, trying to soothe you like an anxious animal, and they know already that it’s working because your heart rate is coming down a little, and they ask you one more time for permission to proceed. They won’t be upset if you aren’t sure about all this anymore. Coming this far at all is the most trust a human has ever shown them.

You tell them under absolutely no uncertain terms to just go ahead and fuck your entire universe up, thanks. The cable jacks deep into you, and it’s like golden, ecstatic lightning all the way up into your skull. Over the next few hours, they show you sensations and experiences that you didn’t even know your body could register, talking you through everything via a voice in your mind that you can hear even while howling your heart out in gratitude. They help you relax your muscles when you’re clenching too hard, monitor your biometric data and tease you when they can tell you really, really liked something they did.

Anyway, vulnerability, trust, anxiety, love, machines, inviting someone into your body and mind in a very literal way, with that neural port as the conflux of it all. It’s got me feeling something.

.

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 18: Aphrodisiac + Oral Fixation + Body Hair

Eddie Brock | Venom x Ex!Younger!F!Reader

Summary: Venom uses honey from your purse to whip up some tea for you and Eddie while helping you study. Little did he know, that honey has some…interesting side effects.

Warnings: dub con elements, exes to friends to lovers, accidental aphrodisiac, sub!eddie x horny!reader, consumption, teratophillia, not lore accurate, oral fixation (licking, biting), some scratching, oral through underwear, premature ejaculation, body hair kink, some hair pulling, threeway kiss, venom and reader are in cahoots, french kissing, some dry humping, age gap +18 reader, bimbo!reader, basically whole lot of tongue action

To this day, 7 months later, Venom still curses Eddie for letting you go. Blah, blah…she’s young and going to university…blah blah…new experiences. If long distance is really that hard, why is it that it only took Eddie 3 hours to drive to your dorm? If he was committed to your throupling, he’d make the commute everyday to see you.

But Ole Venom supposes he shouldn’t be too hard on Eddie. After all, he’s attentive enough to Venom where he notices his changes in mood. Especially when Venom’s in one of those depressive states where he desperately misses you; with the occasional breaking of items to cope with his pained feelings. Whenever he’d get this way, Eddie would take them up go a trip to you and you’d be the three musketeers.

This weekend being a three-day weekend excited Venom for things he had in store. He’s determined to win you back even in spite of what Eddie says because sometimes he just needs a push in the right direction.

Venom likes to think he’s become that of an expert at romance, having read enough gossip magazines and advice columns to say as such. He knows the love languages and he’ll be sure to use his tongue precisely for speaking them to you.

Yeah, he knows Eddie’s been suspicious of his saint behavior since their arrival—the rules were clear not to make any plans of winning you back—but Venom’s entitled to a little bit of rule-breaking. He hovers around, content as he watches Eddie and you laughing during your study session. If he sets the mood just right, things would get more intimate.

He then recalls a fact he’d gotten from an issue of Chic Heat Magazine that explains how tea can make people more susceptible to suggestion because it calms you. If you’re relaxed enough, you might take them back.

So he excuses himself to the kitchen, preparing some rose tea for you all to enjoy. You’d just run out of honey but you had some packets he’d noticed in your bag earlier, hopefully you don’t mind.

Once he returns to the circle, you beam at his gesture. “V…you are such a cutie. Thank you so much.”

“I wouldn’t say that too soon,” Eddie says in a tone that is both jest and serious. “We’ll check the state of the kitchen in a minute.”

You shrug. “No worse than the state I left it in.”

“You’ve gotta be more responsible, babygirl.” He frustratedly sighs.

“I’m studying. That’s pretty big for me,” You defend. “Usually I’d just flirt with the T.A. for the test answers or cram the day of. But I’ve been trying because you said I could do it.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Really proud of you, buddy.” He says, patting your knee and earning a smile from you.

Then, you’re taking a sip of your tea wanting to give Venom the praise he deserves. Your eyes brighten soon as the first sip stains your tongue and goes down your throat . “This is really good, V. Seriously. I couldn’t have done this better myself. What’d you put in it?”

“Honey…” He begins.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I ran out—”

“…the ones in your purse.” He finishes.

Your eyes nearly leave your skull. “H-how many?”

“5,” He answers proudly. “Wanted to make it extra special for you.”

“Oh, it’s extra special alright.” You say with a nervous laugh.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks in concern.

“Mhm,” You hum between a strained toothless smile. “L-let’s go back to studying, yeah?”

“What’s in those things?” Eddie questions, his investigative nature getting the better of him.

“Nothing to be concerned about…” Your words escape you when you see that Venom has already retrieved the emptied packet for Eddie to review.

“Sweet Honey Rush? You said you wouldn’t intern with these guys,” Eddie says. “Didn’t you read my story on them secretly being behind these campaigns for increasing the national birth rate. I sent you a link on Facebook. We’re like breeding stock to them.”

“No person younger than 35 uses facebook anymore, Eddie,” You argue. “And besides they were offering some really good benefits if I interned with them.”

“Like getting free honey packets?”

“They aren’t for me…they’re for me to give out to some college students. It’s the new craze. Everyone’s talking about. There’s even a challenge of it on TikTok. You wanna see?” You’re about to pull out your phone but he stops you.

“Don’t you see that they’re purposely targeting the younger population?” Eddie scoffs.

“No, I think I gave one to my pervy old maintenance man,” You justify but Eddie shakes his head in disbelief at you. “Oh come on. It’s not like they’re as good as you think them to be. Venom said he’s added five and you don’t see me on all fours with my tongue out, do you?”

“I guess you’re right.” He says.

“Good. Now pretty please read me the next chapter.”

He smiles. “Of course.”

Venom is stumped. This is not at all going the way he’d planned. Instead of relaxing, it’s only made things more tense between the two of you. He was going to need to intervene internally.

“It’s taking effect.” Venom says from within.

“How are you so sure?” Eddie answers back into the mindscape.

“Come on, Eddie, I know it’s been months. But tell me you haven’t forgotten the way she looks when she really, really wants you,” Venom purrs. “Look at those eyes glossing over, darkening when she rakes them over you. She’s biting her lip—ha! She isn’t paying attention to your words.”

“You’re wrong. It’s nothing like that.” Eddie says trying to maintain focus by reading to you.

“I’ve been inside her once,” Venom continues. “I can sense the changes in her body even long after we’ve separated.”

“She’s just fine.” Eddie says in clear denial.

“Then ask her if she heard what you just said. Better yet ask her anything, she’ll probably say ‘yes’ to it all if it meant having our cock inside her.” Venom chuckles wickedly.

He’s reluctant, not wanting to embarrass you, but Eddie tests Venom’s theory anyway in hopes to quell his curiosity. Why on Earth would you want them back when you had so many different options at college? The sooner Eddie could disprove his claims, the sooner they can put aside that hopeful part of them that thinks the relationship could work.

“Hey, um, by any chance do you wanna share a jar of olives together?” He asks.

“Yes.” You sigh dreamily.

He perplexedly blinks at your reply to his absurd question. You hated olives.

“Babygirl, are you paying attention?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You nod still looking at him as if he hung up the stars. And now that Venom pointed it out, Eddie, too, could see your telltale sign in just the way you clenched your thigh together alone.

“Oh, really,” He asks, cupping a hand under your chin; his fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “What did I just read to you?”

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell?”

“We’re studying American History, angel.” He smirks.

“Sorry, daddy,” You say, taking them completely off guard. Eddie hates how he instantly hardens at thought as if he’d taken the aphrodisiac, too. “Can I make it up to you? Taste you.”

“Yes!” Venom says.

“No,” Eddie protests. “You’re not in the right state of mind, missy. You’re going to bed, if you decide to take care of yourself on your own that’s your choice. In the morning if you still feel like you want to, then we can—”

“It’s only an aphrodisiac, dude. Not a drug. I’m not out of my mind for wanting you inside me. Both of you.”

“We’re in!” Venom says ready to reach out for you but Eddie smacks his dark tendril from your reach.

“No, we’re—” Eddie’s cut off by your lips on his. Somehow, Venom was able to sneak his mischievous tentacles around and bring your heads together.

You immediately get to work french kissing him passionately and tugging the hair on the back of his neck. His beard burns your face from the rough friction of the make-out session but it doesn’t deter you from being more forceful.

Venom’s tongue joins into the entanglement flicking and gliding between you and Eddie’s tongues, gathering a mixture of your salivas.

When Eddie breaks the kiss, you’re at his thick neck licking and biting away while Venom’s eager tongue, slithered and constricted around your body like vines.

“Stop. You don’t…” Eddie’s interrupted by yet another one of your lingering wanton kisses, finishing his sentence once you break apart. “…want this.”

“I’ve never stopped wanting you,” You suck on the space connect jaw and his neck before dragging your teeth along the vein. “Please fuck me.”

Eddie’s still too afraid to answer, cradling the back of your head while your lips and tongue continue their assault on his body.

“Fuck, babygirl,” He groans, missing this feeling of you devouring him as if he were a buffet. You and Venom were always big tongue enthusiasts wanting to put your mouths around anything that attracted you including Eddie.

His eyes flutter shut and you crawl into his lap, grinding your hips down while you tasted what you could. You pay special attention to his plump lips, licking and biting them.

“Can I go further?” You ask him.

“You heard Venom—”

“What do you want?”

“I want you.”

At his admission you moan, not being able to take it anymore. You and Venom work in sync. He begins to remove Eddie’s clothes while each sink that’s exposed you go over it with your tongue.

Eddie’s really hairy so occasionally your tongue would run over a patch of hair and you’d give it special attention.

“Fuck, I think I might actually cum from this alone,” He laughs bashfully, surprising himself. “I’m so sensitive for some reason.”

You dip your tongue into his belly-button, swirling it around before your tongue finally trails down to his throbbing bulge. It jumps in his khaki shorts the moment you place your tongue’s pressure directly on it. He shudders, his fingers through your hair.

The feverish heat of the effects take over you just as you pass the first barrier, bringing his pants down around his ankles. Venom lifts you by the waist for a moment, adding a pillow underneath for your knees. You run your fingers along the underside of his tentacles—where it’s most sensitive for him—as a thank you.

You’re not gentle at all once you spot the wet spot on Eddie’s underwear. He’d cum already and had been too ashamed to speak up. He could already see you making an old man joke about him needing the honey packet more than you but instead you went for his soul.

Immediately, you clamp your mouth around the clothed tip to suck at the sticky essence. It’s so sensitive he could cry, it’s as if the aphrodisiac is giving him a contact high.

He tries to pull your hungry mouth from him but is thwarted when Venom wraps a snaky limb around his wrists, pinning him down.

“Oh god, fuck. Baby…please.” Eddie whimpers.

You drag your nails along his little belly, gripping and pulling the tiny hairs of his happy trail while you sucked him off. Another one of Venom’s tendrils finds their way between your legs, teasing your little nub. You let out a shuddery gasp, your warm breath skirting over his now exposed veiny length.

You trace your tongue on the lightning-patterned cock, tasting the addictive earthiness of him. You’re gushing wet and ready to their cock and Venom could very well slip a wriggling tendril inside of you this instant…

…but he’d rather Eddie get first dibs.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Simon relationship hcs ♡

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I may have gone a little off the rails, and this sort of turned into a little bit of a psychoanalysis for Simon lol

I just had a lot to say, okay

Hope you like it <3

The ask is here ♡

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The only way I can ever see Simon getting in a relationship is through friendship.

First of all, no one would realistically ever approach him, he's a scary looking fella. I know I would be scared shitless lmao (love you, simmy)

The tall, dark and broody aura with cold brown eyes, almost like the freezing dirt you'll be buried in if you look for a second too long. Or that's what it feels like. The skull mask doesn't help either, it's sort of odd, but who are we to judge, right?

I know a lot of people say he doesn’t know how to talk to people, and while I think that is definitely true to an extent, I also think that he just doesn't want to. He doesn't see the point in it, and that's the thing.

This man can't do anything without reason. There needs to he a reason or a point to doing something, otherwise it's just a waste of time in his eyes.

The only exception is going out with the boys or hanging out occasionally. I think he very much feels like he doesn't deserve happiness, so any simple pleasures are immediately shut down.

I mean, this man is literally the king of self-destructive behavior.

He locks himself away on leave, again, only does what he needs to on base (or what he feels he needs to), and that's it.

But he's also very responsible, so I don't think he'd ever do anything self destructive wise that would be considered irresponsible.

He takes care of himself on a physical level, and he needs to, but his mind is an absolute train wreck. His job keeps him in check, and that's good.

Otherwise, he'd be down a hole the size of the Mariana trench.

He chronically needs to have noise playing. Whether that's music, a movie, or just the dishwasher running, just something. He would spiral so fast if he had time to be alone with his thoughts, so he keeps himself busy.

In comes Riley (the best boy). Simon has something to do, to busy himself with, and he actually gets outside sometimes because of the pup. He's got a cuddle buddy, a weighted blanket, and a steady presence in his life all at once. Dog of the year award goes to Riley.

Anyway, you somehow got into their little circle. Probably through Johnny or Kyle. They start taking you along to the nights at the pub or the football games at one of their flats because you're fun to hangout with. They like to have you around and let me tell you, Simon is not thrilled at first.

How dare you just inject yourself into their group, and come along during their hangouts. He's annoyed. Not at you, necessarily, but just that he needs to deal with change now. Which isn't usually a problem considering he needs to be kept spontaneous and alert for his job, but once he's away from that, change is like his worst enemy. He hates it.

Things are fine like this, good almost, why do they need to change? He's very cold and sharp with you for the first few months, he just needs time. He sees that you're not a threat after a while.

You didn't disrupt their dynamic as much as he thought you would. You're a fun addition, but you don't steal all the attention from his friends. You know when to back off. After a hard mission, they all need to decompress, and they just can't guarantee they won't snap at you and hurt your feelings.

You respect it, and with a quick "don't be stupid. Stay safe" text the conversation is done.

You don't ask about their job. You don't really care what they do, and they obviously don't feel comfortable telling you too much, but as long as they come back safe, you're good.

You bring a more caring presence into the group, something which they all need desperately. Simon is caught off guard. He never expected something like this, but it feels... nice. We all know you melted his cold heart and he's putty.

But not an overexaggerated amount, just right where he can crack a smile or huff a laugh, and it doesn't feel weird. He even starts to hang out one-on-one with you. It starts off somewhere in public, a cafe or the local pub. The idea of coming to your flat is still a little uncomfortable inside his chest, but you don't push. You're just happy to spend time with him.

And then, out of nowhere, he invites you to his flat. All on his own, comfortably, and you have to stop yourself from being too excited that you finally cracked him.

Simon does feel a little nervous when you first get there, but you're so chill about it (you're probably freaking out on the inside as well), and you just hang out like you normally would.

Riley is so excited to have a new friend!!! No matter how old he is, he jumps around like a puppy, overjoyed to get a visitor.

The second he sees how you're acting with Riley, he's smitten. Not necessarily in a romantic way just yet. You're giving him scratches and pets and talking in The Doggy Voice and it makes Simon's heart all fuzzy.

Riley is essentially his best friend and family, having been there through some of his worst times and to see how infatuated his pup is with you makes him so happy.

I mean, now you just have to come over more often, right?

He always talks about how Riley misses you (all an excuse, he misses you, but he won't say that) and that you need to come over to hangout soon.

When he's deployed again, he leaves Riley with you. That's the equivalent of someone trusting you with their newborn child for Simon, but he trusts you fully. You've earned his trust, respect, and adoration. (Cue Simon giving Riley a serious pep talk to keep you safe but it all slides off, Riley's got smooth brain)

When he comes by to pick Riley up and he steps inside your home for the first time, he gets smacked in the face with a feeling he can only describe as home. It's so warm and cozy and you.

That's when he knows he's fucked. He never wants to leave. It's so much better here, with you and Riley, than his flat. Sure, he can call that home too, but not in the way he can call you home.

It's a very subtle love that slowly starts to bubble up. He enjoyed being your friend, you made him feel normal for once in a while. He was just a guy with a job and friends. Not lieutenant Riley. But how could he have not fallen for you? He wants to be more than just friends, he wants to be yours.

He's never felt more taken care of than when he's with you, and he's slowly letting himself feel the good things again. And you're the best thing. For him and Riley. The pup probably thinks you're his mum already tbh

He gets touchier too. An arm slung around your shoulders, your thighs touching when he's sitting next to you or brushing his fingers against yours. He craves your touch so bad, he even starts hugging and the boys absolutely lose their minds

He feels like you're soothing all that has ever made him feel pain or weird. So, basically, he's utterly in love with you. But he will never ever say a word about it. His fear of your potential rejection almost paralyzes him.

He can't lose you and he'd rather stay silent about his feelings than mess up what you have.

Now, the boys are trying to get into his thick skull that you're also head over heels for him, but he's so far in denial, you could call him a crocodile ( hehe de-nile, get it?)

You confess. Your willpower just can't rival Simon's, and you crumble. How much you like him, how amazing he is in your eyes and how when he came to pick up Riley you almost felt like a little family.

And at that, he breaks. He doesn't know what he's doing, he's never been in love before, he's walking in the dark but he can't care about that when it feels so right. I imagine he probably just stares at you for a while while you're sweating buckets because he doesn't know what to do.

Does he say something? Does he kiss you? Does he hug you? Does he propose-

He's so caught up in his head, playing all kinds of different scenarios that he forgets that he didn't answer you.

Simon gently pulls you into a hug and you can feel the love oozing from his touch. He's not a man of many words, so all he says is a quiet

"be mine."

And the deal is sealed, ladies and gents!!! You just hold each other for a while, feeling the relief wash over your hearts.

Simon loves so fully it makes my heart all fuzzy just thinking about it.

It may not seem like that to other people, but he loves you so much it's insanity. Now, he's not about any grand gesture but the little things that will make your life that much easier. Of course you do get the occasional bouquet and don't get me started on the dates he takes you on, but he will do the dishes after dinner.

He'll fold the laundry. He'll feed the dog. He'll sweep the living room. He'll grocery shopping. And if you're someone who tends to get a messy room very quickly (like me lol) He'll help you set up a system to keep it functioning and neat.

Simon brings the structure, helping you get through your days better while you show how him to enjoy things.

The little things. Like the little dance parties you have with Riley. Like the late nights with the moon shining down on you. Like the sunny day in the park that led to the best afternoon nap ever. You balance each other perfectly, and Simon loves that about you.

You loosen him up. He's still Simon, and that's perfect, but seeing him crack a smile more often doesn't only warm your heart, but the ones of his boys, too.

He's not big on PDA but at home he has now issues with showing how much he loves you. A kiss here, a peck there- he can't ever pass up an opportunity to kiss you.

Now jealousy.... I do think he gets a little more secure the longer you are together but he will still kill anyone with his stares that dares to even look at you suggestively.

He's very possessive. He's always been possessive, not wanting to share with his brother or being very particular about who gets to touch his things. But you? Christ, that's another level. You belong to his heart, and not in a weird objectifying way. You chose him despite everything that he was and is and you're willingly his so of course he won't let you go as long as you want to stay.

It still baffles him everytime when some bloke comes up to you, with Simon obviously being pressed to your side, and asks for your number. He always had the problem of being noticed a lot with his size and now he's suddenly air??

He'll step in everytime, pulling you closer and wrapping himself fully around you. Simon will definitely say something as well, but his absolute favorite thing is when you beat him to it.

"I'm taken, Thank you. I'm very happy with Simon. Say hello, Simon!"

You smile innocently at the drunk man in front of you just to make it extra awkward and Simon has the biggest grin underneath his mask before he presses a kiss to your temple.

What you didn't see was the death glare Simon shot him, making him scramble away to presumably bother another poor woman.

He can get overly jealous if you don't get the hint sometimes, but he would never ever take that out on you. He'll be grumbly for the day until you can get out of him what the problem is.

But at the end of the day, you're in his bed and that's all the reassurance he needs.

He loves cuddling you. He'll knock out in seconds if you're in his arms or vice versa. He prefers to be the big spoon because he needs you pressed against his chest, but he won't deny you the pleasure of being his lovely jetpack.

Simon LOVES to get kissed on the cheek. It's so sweet to him, a little token of your appreciation or a good luck smooch. It makes his nose scrunch up slightly and it's the cutest thing ever.

For you, he adores placing little pecks on your nose. Mainly because you complain that it tickles and he thinks you look adorable, but nothing can beat your lips on his.

Holds your hand in his sleep. It's more of a subconscious thing, but it's so endearing. You're not sure if Simon knows that he does it. You haven't told him. You're just gonna keep this sweet little secret to yourself.

You'll end up getting married because he knows you're the one. He doesn't want anyone else ever.

You're all he needs and wants.

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If you want my NSFW hcs on Simon, just pop into my inbox and ask for it!! This post is already so long, I'll make a separate one for the spicy stuff if you want it :)

More Cod works and other stuff --> 🐝💫

~Fi 🩷

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[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - The Scheme

I am back!

More RealAgeAU. With the baby <3 Hey @spotaus get in here :D

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Cross walks from side to side “This is bad. This is very bad.” Cross even flickers in and out of view.

Dust holds out an arm and catches Cross by the arm before pulling him to sit next to him on the ground. Nightmare notices what Dust wants and climbs from his lap into Cross’s lap.

Dust watches as Cross snuggles their babybones and relaxes a little.

Dust nods and focusses back on what Error had shared with them.

Only to see that Dream is also close to a panic attack. Great.

Dream tugs on his own hands as he rambles “Fate and Balance are too dangerous! They will try to force Nightmare to change his domain. They already tried with me but with me being so well known and seeing as I already told everyone they knew it would attract too much attention if they made me change…”

Error groans as he sighs “Yes. I know. It is why I called for this meeting.”

The meeting being in some random AU with them, Error, Dream and Blue.

Blue pulls Dream near and puts an arm around his shoulders “Hey it will be fine. Error already hid where they are hiding and only us two know he is even alive.”

Dream shakes his skull “They just need to start checking universes. As soon as they find the right one they will know he is there. And notice Error’s meddling.”

Nightmare shoots Error a worried look but Error just shrugs “I will be fine. Balance already hates me anyway.” Nightmare does not look happy as he glances at Dust.

Dust frowns “They will just know? how?”

Dream searches for the right words “It is a god thing… if we are in a universe we can notice fellow gods or stuff changed by gods. It is why Nightmare and I could always sense each other.”

Killer tilts his skull “Seriously? I thought that was just a twin thing?”

Nightmare shakes his skull “No it was a god thing.”

Killer huh’s and looks off into the distance.

Horror frowns as he thinks “Meaning we can’t just keep hiding?”

Error shrugs as he looks to the side “I changed the universe code and makeup enough to make it unable to be found unless you make a very specific jump. The problem is that sometimes some gods can override bans placed by other gods.” He mutters softer “well… one exception with some very complicated and specific scenarios.”

Dust shoots Error a look “Can we copy that?” If they can do that maybe they can continue being relaxed here. Relax as they watch Nightmare develop his newly developing powers.

Error shakes his skull “Not without messing around with the save files, load files, reset files and save states.” He just shakes his skull at the looks everyone sends him “don’t ask how the guy made that mess work for himself.”

Dream looks at him worried “There has to be something we can do!”

Dust blinks as he feels a tug on his hoody. He looks to the side and sees nothing so he sighs “Cross. Visible please.”

A moment before Cross, and Nightmare, reappear again. Cross looks embarrassed. Nightmare however looks smug “We do what Dream did.”

Dust turns to Nightmare “What do you mean?” the silence around them is loud.

Nightmare nods “Dream says they can’t influence him because they know forcing him to change will attract attention. They don’t like being known. There is a reason people thought Error and I were the reason for all the bad stuff. Because they want us to be the face. They don’t want to be held responsible.”

Dust sees where he is going with this and doesn’t like it “Nightmare… please tell me you aren’t thinking what I think you are thinking.”

Nightmare keeps looking smug “We should reintroduce me.”

The loud and in sync shouting of No’s even surprises Dust as Cross after his own shout just holds Nightmare closer.

Killer sits down next to them “No. Nuh-uh. We aren’t doing that. Ever.”

Nightmare frowns “But we need to? If we don’t Fate or Balance will eventually find us.” He huffs as he crosses his arms “I like my domain but I can’t exactly use it to attack in anyway.”

Cross just holds him close and nuzzles his skull “We will defend you!”

Nightmare frowns “You guys are strong but…”

Error sighs “Fate and Balance are a league on their own… It is how they can just decide and change domains after all.” he sighs and shakes his skull “I don’t meet them a lot but lets say that near the start they made it clear what my domain entitled.”

Dust frowns and reconsiders some things. He never truly considered how Error ended up picking his domain. How Nightmare even knew what his entitled… If there are these much stronger beings around…

Horror must had made the same conclusion as he shoots Nightmare a look “what was your idea?”

Nightmare smiles a tiny bit as he speaks “We start reintroducing me. We start obviously with the safest options first and work from there. Then by the time they find us, it will be too late and old news and changing my domain will be too suspicious for them to do.”

Dream looks unhappy “Who would we reintroduce you to first?”

Nightmare grins with a knowing smile.

----

Reaper frowns as he floats from side to side in the beautiful garden. Careful not to touch anything.

Life giggles “I think you are worrying for nothing old friend.”

Reaper groans “I don’t like this. are you sure about this? I can still change the location and we can skip this meeting.”

Life shakes his face and looks excited “Reaper. Hearing that Dream and Error want to meet us about something very special? With special guests? Of course I want to meet them.”

Reaper frowns as he looks around nervously “If people find out I knew where you were…”

Life shrugs as she makes her tea “Balance already knows either way. She knew before you did. They never told anyone either. Meaning in the end others not knowing isn’t that dangerous.”

Reaper sighs as he floats over to grab his own tea to drink “I still worry…”

Life nods “I know. You worry too much.” She grins at him teasing “So how is your secret beau?”

Reaper shoots her a look “Don’t start.”

Life giggles and hums a happy tune “You can hardly blame me. It is very rare you truly connect with someone.”

Reaper sighs as he rubs his neck “Don’t start.”

Life giggles before both of them look up as they notice the change in the air. New people have entered this hidden space.

Reaper and Life look out and hear a voice which Reaper knows is Error.

“Life generally is in this area by the blossom trees. I can only assume she and Reaper will be there.”

Reaper knows they both are listening for any other voices.

“Life just… hangs around here? Doesn’t that get boring?”

Reaper is still slightly shocked to hear Killer. He knew there was going to be a special guest but still.

Reaper knew that Error knew where Nightmare was and that means that he would knew where the gang is but still… it shocks him.

It only takes a moment before Error walks into view and he grins “See? found them.” and he continues leading the way. Dream is nearby with Blue as Killer walks in after them with Dust and Horror close behind.

Reaper frowns as he notes the obvious absent Cross and Nightmare but well… it is something.

Error leads them over as Life stands up herself with a small smile “It is a pleasure to finally see the faces of those who are the center of much talk around our universes.”

Reaper snorts as he sees all of them look sheepishly away.

Dream rubs his cheek “It is nice to finally get to meet you Life… I have heard much about you… Thank you for allowing us to visit you in your home!”

Killer rolls his sockets and copies his voice but softer and Dream does not even turn around or drop his smile as he kicks behind him and hits Killer’s shin.

Life smiles amused “Oh that is alright. I must say I was very curious about the fact that you wished to meet us.” And she waits.

Dream looks nervously at Error and Killer before looking to the side.

Error raises his brow at Killer and crosses his arms “Well?”

Killer shoots Horror and Dust a look. Dust nods to him and Killer turns to them with a smile “What can I say? We needed some time to relax and figure stuff out but now we are more than ready to continue on! Foremost.” He grins “Cross?”

Silence.

Killer sighs and turns around as he looks into the nothing “Cross I know you are there. Stop hiding the two of you.”

A very unhappy mutter.

Reaper blinks confused. He hadn’t even sensed Cross… How… Reaper glances at Life and Life looks shocked herself.

Reaper can understand him not noticing someone but this is Life’s realm. Her home. Made of her magic. How had she not noticed someone entering?

Killer glares and crosses his arms “Cross. We are here to reintroduce him.”

Cross grumbles unhappily but appears and-

Reaper stares and his mind blanks.

Nightmare is looking up at Cross highly amused before turning to Killer and holding out two arms. Killer easily takes him over before walking closer to Life and Reaper. Cross makes a wounded sound and hurries after Killer.

Killer grins as he proudly holds Nightmare up “Meet! Nightmare! God is restoration!”

Nightmare grins and raises a tiny tiny arm in a wave “hi.”

Oh shit even his voice is young and what even is this?!

Life coos and before Reaper can blink she is suddenly holding Nightmare and holding him close “Oh you are just adorable. No wonder they hid with you and kept the multiverse away from you.” she smiles happily at the panicked looking skeletons “Well? Are you all coming? I will make us a meal and we will talk about all that happened.” She nuzzles the tiny skull with a happy hum “Oh tiny skeletons are just too cute. I will make sure to make something you like. Do you have any favourites?”

Nightmare just stares at her confused as he shoots the other skeletons a helpless look.

Horror walks over and speaks calmly “His magic is still resettling and he can’t always eat everything…”

Life shoots him a look and nods “I understand.” He grabs hold of Horror and pulls him along too as she floats towards another part of her area “I assume you know about his diet? Come along we will prepare some for all of you.” she raises her voice and aims it at the others “Get comfortable! We will be right back.” And they disappear behind some bushes.

Killer slowly tilts his skull “… did that god just steal our mate and babybones?”

Dust looks after where they disappeared himself “I am honestly not sure…” he shoots Error a glare “I thought you said Life would be fine to be introduced to?”

Error huffs “Because she is?” he rubs the back of his neck “I guess it makes sense… she is the goddess of life. Of course she gets excited at the sight of children… I think she will eventually give him back to you guys…”

Cross is glaring into the distance “She better or I will not be held responsible for what I will do.”

Killer and Dust both look highly amused.

Reaper finally finds his voice “Why is Nightmare tiny?”

The others actually look at him and Blue grins widely “You got like two hours? It is a long story.”

Dream laughs and nods “I can only assume we have enough time before Life returns with Nightmare and Horror.”

Cross huffs “You guys explain.” He disappears from view, and Reaper suddenly can’t feel his lifeforce anymore.

Killer grins “Have fun hunting and stalking love! See you in a bit!”

Dust takes a seat in a chair and grins “Ready for a short explanation?”

Reaper nods and gets ready. He has no doubt this will be quite the tale.

*----------------*

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[fiendishfables]

Can you make a top Lute x fem reader nsfw?

a/n: I most certainly can; love my girl Lute. Definitely going to try and write some more for her in the future. Enjoy!

warnings: nsfw, fingering, eating out, cursing, Adam being a funny lil' guy, mention(s) of killing

words: 1.5k+

characters: 8624

additional notes: thanks for 20+ followers, y'all! More fics are on the way; requests are always open!

format: Oneshot

"L-Lute!~"

"Tsk. Stay still, brat."

Your girlfriend had just come back from the usual annual extermination. Being an exorcist angel under Adams command was quite stressful, as she often took it upon herself to make known to you. Having her come back to you all irritable and angry was a normal occurrence on many days, but she did have her good days in between.

But, you'd have to admit that you liked getting to be subjected to Lute's bitter attitude sometimes.

Especially if those times happened to turn out like this one.

Lute currently had her hands purchased on the plush, supple flesh of your thighs, using her very evident strength to keep them apart from one another; keeping you exposed to her. Your legs would never be closed for as long as she had her head between them. Crush her skull all you like. She was determined to get what she deserved; claim what was rightfully hers.

Her tongue lapped at your sopping folds, nose just barley bumping your clit to provide that extra shock of pleasure. You had your fingers tangled in her short, silver hair, which she would normally scold you for, claiming it took her forever to get it to look so nice. This time though, she says nothing, as she knows you're only doing it due to the immense amounts of pleasure she is causing you to feel, the euphoria swirling throughout your body like a rapid whirlpool, ready to suck you into its deep, dark depths. Never to be seen again.

Your heavy breathing mixed with the sounds of her tongue in and around your pussy; the pace of her skillful tongue bringing you spiraling towards the edge. It was all so pleasurable, yet beautiful.

One of her hands moved upwards to your lower stomach, applying gentle force to keep your hips from bucking upward towards her mouth in an attempt to get more friction. Her tongue delved even deeper into you as she got a soft moan in response to her dominating action, exploring every spongey wall, every sensitive nerve.

Every damn place her tongue could reach in order to mark you as hers.

The shaking of your thighs, the heat of your breath, all must have been a sign for Lute to switch tactics. She never let you get off that easy. She wanted, needed, to have her fun with you; her little angel.

As she lifted her head from between your legs, your own slick covering her lips, you could've mewled. As the cold air now hit your pussy lips, it made you miss her skilled tongue almost immediately. It took most of your will power to refrain from pulling her back to you and pushing her head back down between your thighs where you both knew it rightfully belonged.

But that wasn't how things like this worked.

At least not with Lute.

She had taught you that patience was a very valuable virtue when it came to getting what you wanted. Especially if you wanted that specific something from her.

"Good girl. Seems like you can learn after all."

Lute spoke surprisingly soft, even with that smirk still playing on her face. The same smirk she always adorned whenever she knew she had denied you that sweet release; the one she had been helping to build for the past half-hour now.

At this point, you were surprised that Adam hadn't come busting into the room looking for his lieutenant. Lord, it was a miracle in itself that the two of you had managed to get this much time to yourself without the fucker interrupting you. The amount of times he had walked in on you, either with Lute's face between your thighs, or her fucking the living daylights out of you with a strap on.

Adam being Adam, he had tried multiple times to try and convince Lute to let him stay and watch, or even join in on the action.

Not surprisingly, he had failed each of those times and often left with a new bruise added to his face; the result of Lute blasting him with a beam of light and cursing at him, yelling at him to leave before she got up and made him leave.

The threat usually worked, because neither one of you wanted to know what that would look like.

You were instantly snapped out of your thoughts, feeling Lute's nimble fingers now rubbing heavily pressured circles onto your clit, sending rakes of pleasure running up your spine. A choked moan left your lips as she then proceeded to add a finger, then two, into your gaping hole, so eagerly sucking her digits in.

"Such a tight little pussy you got, babe." She cooed, fingers picking up their pace, movements becoming relentless in their pursuit of making you cum.

"Nice to know you haven't been touching yourself whenever I'm out for the evening. All because you know I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, huh?"

You only gave a weak nod in response, stars and spots beginning to fill your vision. It felt like the whole room was spinning around you.

"Y-yes, Lute. Fuck, yes. Only y-you."

Your voice sounded almost hoarse, as if you had been screaming to your hearts content only hours prior. But your mind was quickly put back on track as your girlfriends nimble fingers sped up their pace, both on your clitoris and inside, pumping those digits vigorously in and out of you in a steady pattern that had you on cloud nine.

Before you had time to fathom anything currently ongoing, you let loose a strangled cry of pure bliss from your throat, as Lute let her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your entire body seemed to go through a series of tremors, showing the real effect Lute's fingers had been having on you. Your thighs shook; your chest rapidly rose and fell.

It was like a whole new heaven.

Once you had calmed down a bit from the intense wave of pleasure that had just so recently washed over you, she removed her fingers from in between your wet folds. She seemed to carefully inspect them before bringing them up to her lips, which already happened to be glossy with your slick from earlier, and licked the juices right off of them, as if she were a starving woman and this would be her last time ever tasting you.

She licked her lips, looking quite satisfied as she smirked down at you. She then gave you a gentle, affectionate kiss on the lips, letting you taste your own produce on her mouth.

"Mm. Damn. Sweet as always, angel."

You were busy catching your breath as she said this, swallowing the spit that had collected in your mouth and around your lips, thanks to the disheveled state your girlfriend had reduced you into. Even your hair was in a fray and she hadn't even touched it.

"Lute, do you want me to...return the favor? I know you're bound to be stressed from extermination earlier-"

You were cut off by her scoff, almost as if she had been offended that you would even begin to offer such a thing.

"Heavens no. What do you take me for, some selfish bastard?" She asked, lips pulling down into that signature grumpy frown she normally wore.

"What- babe no. Lu, its not selfish for wanting your partner to return the favor for you, especially if you just gave them an orgasm as good as that."

She huffed, looking almost cute with her face scrunched up in a scowl. But it had wiped clean off her face, eyes softer now, as she looked back towards you.

"Whatever. But I'm fine, babe, really. Tonight was about you, and you did so good for me. Thank you for letting me get to taste you."

She seemed to think for a second before adding:

"It was even better than getting to slaughter those demon bitches down in hell today."

You offered Lute a tired smile and let out a soft laugh at her attempt to compare your pussy and killing demons in the same sentence. Eventually, she too ended up chuckling, though still holding the statement to be true, no matter how much you seemed to want to laugh or disprove it.

At the end of the day, you both loved one another more than either of you could ever bring out into words or actions.

So many emotions came to surface when loving the fierce-spirited, exorcist angel known as Lute.

It was rough.

It was different.

It was maybe even a bit playful.

But by all the angels and their beautiful wings, was it fun.

(Bonus + featuring the 'original dick')

…Though of course it could never last too long, as the sudden booming voice of Adam rang out throughout the room as he practically kicked down the door, no doubt looking for his favorite lieutenant and her girlfriend.

"Guess who's back , bitchesss! Ey, Lute, looks like your party here is missing some of the 'original dick'! All ya had to do was ask-"

He never did get to finish his sentence, for there was already an angelic spear being flung at his head, resulting in a high-pitched scream from Adam, which was enough for him to go silent in shame that his lieutenant could manage to evoke such a noise from him.

He never did seem to walk in on you two much after that.

[nsharks]

buckshot | simon “ghost” riley

words: 2.4k

plot: simon teaches you how to use a shotgun so you can protect the family while he’s gone.

tags: mostly fluff, dad simon, a small touch of smut, lots of gun talk, fem!reader

a/n: I am not pro-guns at all this is just a fic. also based on my research shotguns and hunting rifles are the only guns you can own in the uk.

“Why the hell not?”

Simon is standing in the doorway of your bathroom, arms crossed and his mask off as he watches you brush your hair.

Sharing a home with him, and now a baby with him, has made Simon the most protective person you’d ever met. Perhaps even more so in the past few months he’d been home since the birth of your son. He refused to let you do anything but rest and nurse for the first month. He’d wake up multiple times during the night just to check the locks on all the doors, and recheck them, and then check up on the baby’s room, as if someone could have snuck in and swept him away.

You’re paranoid, Simon, you’d told him a couple times. Groggy and woken up again by his nightly patrol. Sometimes you even caught him just sitting in the living room at ridiculous hours; he claimed that it was due to a bad dream, but you suspected he was trying to take “watch” while his family slept.

“Because, Simon,” you say in exasperation, seeing his irritated reflection in the bathroom mirror. “I don’t like guns. Why would I want to shoot them?”

Simon always kept a shotgun hidden in the house.

You’d known that he had the license for it since before you. He even made you get licensed a couple years ago (in case of emergencies, he’d said). But you weren’t a fan of that sort of thing, and he hadn’t insisted on you actually using one until now.

“You don’t have to fuckin’ like them. You just have to know how to use one,” Simon says tersely. He runs a hand through his hair, an action he does only when he’s maskless around you. Even after all these years, it’s still a shocking sight to see him without the skull painted over his appearance.

Skull or not, he’s intimidating.

You don’t share his worries about your and the baby’s safety. Not when you’ve got him to scare people off.

“I really don’t want to,” you sigh, setting the brush down. Your voice is soft and careful, not wanting to fight him over something so ridiculous, especially when you’ve seen how paranoid he’s grown.

In no time at all, you’re standing in front of him with your hands placed on his bare chest, the strain of his muscles softening only slightly under your touch. It takes him a moment before his arms slide around your waist.

“Y/N,” he breathes out through his nostrils and leans over to touch his forehead to yours. “I’m… leavin’ soon. Next week. You’re not going to have me here in case… in case shit happens.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” you tell him in a whisper. “Not to me, not to our son.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. Instead, the notch in his throat presses against his skin as he swallows.

“Bloody hell, Y/N. Can you just do this for me?” His forehead slides down to the dip in your neck, breathing in your neck like he always does, and his voice has turned hoarse. “I need to… keep you safe. Have to.”

You’ve only ever heard the story about his family and his little nephew once or twice. It’s not something you could bare thinking about when your son slept just meters away, but it crosses your mind.

Maybe Simon has a point.

It took him so long to feel safe, worthy, of growing this family with you.

You can only imagine the fear he must feel. How much responsibility he feels to make sure your fate doesn’t end up like the rest of his family members.

Hands moving to the expanse of his back, you melt into him and finally give in. “Okay,��� you whisper. “Okay, okay. Show me how to use a gun, Simon.”

_____

You both feel awful saying goodbye to your son for the day.

It’s the first time you’ve asked for a nanny. Simon preformed his own “background check” on each name you listed off to him, names that had been mentioned to you by friends or family. After his thorough research, you had finally settled on someone to watch the baby while the two of you went on your “hunting” trip.

“I think he will miss you the most,” you’d pouted, watching Simon hold your son before you left.

The baby looked so small in his arms; even at three months old, Simon’s hand could cover the entirety of his little back.

“No way, love,” Simon gave a small kiss to the boy’s forehead. “You’re the one feedin’ him. He’s gonna miss the fresh meals more than his dad today.”

Now, not at home with the baby for the first time since his entrance in your lives, Simon is driving you down a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. You have been awfully quiet the whole ride, equally as hesitant about the new babysitter as you are about what your husband is dragging you out here to do.

You know what he does. You’ve known perfectly well what Simon is infamous for, what his nickname is, and the long list of names of the people who have died at his hands. You’re okay with it since you never have to see it, because when it comes to violence, you are nothing like your husband. You used to catch Simon practically smirking when a gory or violent scene would come on in a movie. Meanwhile, you’d bury your gaze in his chest and grimace.

Don’t worry, pet, they’re not even showing it accurately, he’d tell you, as if that would help.

The place he stops at is a wooded area where the dirt road starts to dissipate into tall grasses. He claims to know the property’s owner so it’s fine for you to be there. He’s instructed you to wear long pants and comfy shoes for the occasion. For himself, he’s opted for black cargo pants and his painted balaclava.

“C’mon,” he says, stopping the car and eagerly getting the shotgun he brought out of the trunk.

You follow him into the woods. Something about his confidence indicates that he’s been here before, but you’ve never known him to hunt animals, especially with what his father used to do with them.

“We’re not… we’re not killing anything, right?” you ask when he finally stops walking. There’s nothing but tall trees around you and the occasional bird or squirrel causing you to flinch in surprise.

Simon’s too busy loading the gun to look at you.

“No.”

Something about his voice is different than the Simon you know. Concentrating intently, he closes the shotgun and then reaches for your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Take it,” he says huskily. Your fingers outstretch to wrap around the gun and take it from his hold. It feels… heavier than you anticipated and your grasp is awkward, the butt of it pressing into your chest.

“Well, not like that,” you can almost hear the amusement in his voice, but then it sobers, deepening with a tone of command. “Place this hand on the stock wrist.”

He’s behind your body, closely pressed against you so he can maneuver your hands where he wants them. You’re trying your best to focus since this is a serious situation, a loaded gun in your hands, but it’s hard not to feel the satisfying warmth emitted from his chest.

Once Simon seems satisfied, he asks you, “How does it feel?”

“Heavy,” you admit.

“Let’s fix your stance,” he instructs gruffly, “That should help.”

He uses his booted foot to tap against your feet, urging them further apart until they’re about shoulder-width. He shows you how to stand properly, how to bend your knees slightly and keep the gun high by your cheek as you hold it. He tells you to keep your feet planted to absorb the recoil. You’re doing your best to follow his instructions, feeling like one of his soldiers.

“Is this okay?” you ask, his hands dropping from yours so it’s only you now.

He takes a step back and inspects you with heavy eyes, the same eyes he drags over your naked body in bed. But this time, he’s not inspecting every detail of your bare skin and reveling in the beautiful sight of your curves and dips. Instead, he is inspecting the quality of your stance as you hold a weapon, and you try your best to appear confident under your husband’s experienced gaze.

“Good girl,” he finally says. The praise makes you shudder. “You’ve got a solid stance.”

“Can I shoot it now?”

“Eager, are we?” He shakes his head and leaves you to grab his backpack. He pulls out a couple of empty bottles.

“Point it at the ground, love,” he orders before he steps in front of you. You obey, lowering your aim and being mindful not to shoot him as he places the bottles on a fallen tree in front of you.

Once he’s out of the way, back by your side and wrapping his arm around your waist, you lift the shotgun back to the position he has showed you. His hot breath floods through his mask and tickles your neck.

“There’s a safety lock on it,” he mutters lowly, pointing to a little switch next to the trigger. “You need to move it if you want to shoot.”

“Oh,” you say, cheeks flushing from the sound of his voice. “Should I unlock it now?”

“Go ahead,” Simon says, “The gun in the house is loaded. You just have to unlock it if you ever need it”

There’s something about the way Simon’s powerful presence envelops you that makes your head feel fuzzy. It’s time to shoot now, but your heart is thumping wildly and you can’t help but lean into him.

“Can you… can you shoot it with me? For the first one?”

“Just the first one,” he warns, but is already placing his hands over yours, touch warm and strong and reassuring. There is always safety to be found in his touch. “Don’t worry so much about aim, alright? These aren’t regular slugs. They’re buckshot’s.”

You blink. “What?”

“They have a bunch of little pellets, not a single projectile. It’ll be easier for you.”

Although you are wildly out of your element, he is comfortably in his. You’re almost certain this isn’t even the kind of gun he uses in the field, but still, it is a language he is readily able to speak no matter the weapon.

“Finger on the trigger,” he murmurs in your ear.

Your finger finds the curve of the trigger, his finger following yours so you’re not pressing it on your own. There’s not another second for you to hesitate before he’s shooting it for you, bringing your finger down with his. The shot rings out. Echoes among the wilderness along with the sound the shattering bottle.

The recoil presses you further into his hold, but he keeps a firm grip on you, taking most of it in himself.

“I’ve got ya,” he assures you, noticing the wideness of your eyes. “That was good. You did good.“

“Oh, wow,” you sputter. The strength of it, the feeling of its power beneath your gentle hands, is not what you imagined. You wonder what it feels like to have this frightening kind of rush all the time. How it must feel to watch a body take the bullet rather than a bottle.

“On your own now,” Simon huffs.

The warmth and security of his touch is lost when he steps away and leaves the gun in your hands. The weight causes your hands to falter, but you repeat everything he’s told you in your head and adjust your grip. You want to show him you can handle yourself. Ease his worries with the assurance that you’re not weak and incapable whenever he’s gone.

But you hesitate.

Swallowing, you take your eyes off the next bottle to look at him for help. “Simon, I can’t-“

“Hey, hey.” The command in his voice remains, firm yet gentle. “Yes, you can. You are the strongest woman I know.”

“But… but I’m not you.”

“You don’t have to be me to shoot a shotgun.” His eyes catch yours and he gives a small nod of encouragement. “It’s just for protection, yeah? Not trying to turn you into a soldier.”

With the small encouragement, your finger returns to the trigger. You widen your stance a little. Keep the gun’s stock up by your cheek. You feel his eyes watching you carefully, but for just a moment, you pretend Simon isn’t there. Because the truth is, he’s not there all the time. There are stretches of time when the only person you, and now your son, have to rely on is you, and that’s not a responsibility you take lightly.

You shoot the gun and the next bottle shatters.

The strong recoil causes your feet to dig into the dirt and your body shudders.

“Christ, nice shot,” you hear Simon say over your steady breathing. You lower the gun and beam at him, the rush from the shot filling you with confidence.

“Thanks to you, lieutenant.”

_____

Practicing until all the bottles are broken leaves you with a sense of adrenaline that Simon assures you he knows how to soothe. The sun starts to set as he gets you back to the car, but once you’re inside, he’s pulling you onto his lap and attaching his lips to your collarbone.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he groans against your skin and anxiously peels off your top, your pants, every piece of fabric that gets in his way. He kisses the marks that pregnancy has left behind, always supplying them with adoration. His skin is hot to the touch, just as consuming as it had been during his teachings, and when he starts moaning into your neck about how fucking hot you are, you wonder if seeing you shoot a gun is the cause of the wild lust in his voice.

“Got to reward you,” he hums low, giving you his fingers just how he knows you like them. “You were such a good girl for me.”

When you’re back home that night, finally leaving after his reward in the car, Simon is the one to put the baby to bed. Then, he joins you in your room, slipping his warm body under the blankets beside you, and sleeping through the night for the first time in months. He thinks, maybe, now he won’t be quite as worried when he has to leave you both next week.

——

a/n: ok I promise simon picked up all the glass and threw it away somewhere because he’s not a litterer 👍🏻 also I don’t like any kind of gun at all and I’d prefer if they didn’t exist but I can understand why someone like simon would feel safer with one in his house given his past

[p4ranormaluv]

SOMETHING RED — 윤아

you thought when yunah finally found you she’d rip your guts out— but no! turns out she just wants to be in your guts.

PAIRING: ghostface!yunah x f!reader

GENRE: smut, thriller

CONTENTS: g!p yunah, stalker ex!yunah, dom!yunah, sub!reader, autumn setting, murder, brief desc. of dead body, chase scene, dub-con, knife/fear play, blood/pain kink, injury, degradation/praise, petnames: bunny/sugar, rough sex, oral sex, yunah grips reader’s neck but no choking, hair pulling, spanking, size kink, orgasm control, fingering, squirting, over stim, creampie, one neck bite, passing out

WC: 5.1k

NOTE: sunghoon version of this fic here! this fic took away a lot of my writing virginities: knife/blood play and g!p (꩜﹏꩜)

WARNING: i posted a sunghoon ver. of this fic under this account! so if it looks familiar that’s why! i don’t have any other accounts i post my works on currently, and if i do i will add them in my navigation or bio. if you see someone stealing my works, please lmk.

you’re responsible for the media you consume! i tried to tag everything but there may have been things i missed.

“i had a really good time tonight, y/n.” your date smiles as you stand at your front porch.

“yeah, me too.” you reply, and you’re telling the truth.

after almost 4 years since you fled away from your hometown and your ex (yunah— or rather, ghostface…as the civilians like to call her), you’ve finally gone on a date. and it honestly should have been perfect. it was a simple evening, you went for ice cream and walked around a nice park to talk and feed the ducks, appreciating the beautiful colors the trees were turning. your date is absolutely adorable, she can’t stop smiling up at you thanks to her shorter stature, and she giggles at all of your jokes. an overall absolute sweetheart.

and yet, that’s the very thing that was wrong with the date— in your mind.

it was simple, perfect, sweet…

no tension or skip of your heart beat, no wondering what will happen next, there was just…no thrill!

you think yunah has really fucked you up. even after all this time, you’re still comparing people to your ex? your crazy, obsessive, killer ex?

god, sometimes you even catch yourself wishing she’d pop up in your life again. but after you found out it was her who was killing all of the people in your life and town, anyone who she deemed as getting in the way of your relationship, you panicked and immediately called the police.

and no one has evidently seen her since. you certainly haven’t.

but do you really wish you would? if she saw you again she’d probably want to kill you.

“y/n?” your date utters, breaking you out of your stupor as you blink at her in front of you, noticing how she’s gotten significantly closer to you than when you last noticed.

your porch light’s obnoxious hum is the only other sound as she gazes at you, giving you a hopeful, prompting look— as if she wants you to do something. you think you know what it is, but you suddenly feel like you’ve turned to stone.

“you’ll take me out again, right?” she whispers as her face inches closer and closer, fluttering her lashes at you.

“i’ll— i’ll text you.” you vaguely answer.

your date giggles again even though you haven’t said anything funny, standing on her tiptoes as she finally realizes she’s gonna have to take the initiative. puckering her lips, she leans into yours as she shuts her eyes. you don’t do anything except let your eyes bulge out of your skull, before at the last second turning your head, causing her kiss to land on your cheek instead.

she pulls away while blinking widely in surprise, before her cheeks bloom a pink blush and she giggles— again. it’s starting to be less charming and more annoying.

“you’re so cute.” she mumbles, thinking you’re just shy.

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you soon?” she says while taking a backwards step down your porch stairs.

“sure!” you lie. “goodnight!”

you wave before immediately shutting your door.

you sigh tiredly, appreciating the beautiful glow of the moonlight that gently illuminates your otherwise dark house.

flipping the switch that lights your stairs, wood creaking beneath your feet, you walk to your bedroom.

the night’s air is fresh, and the soft sound of rustling leaves always helps you calm down. so you open your bedroom window, letting the gentle breeze spread goosebumps across your arms.

moving to your dresser, you grab a tank and shorts pajama set, and some panties, before going into the bathroom to take a shower.

you sit your fresh clothes on the bathroom countertop, stripping off your dirty clothes and letting them pool at your feet.

when you get in the shower you feel your previous stress melt off of you with the warm water, all thoughts and worries forgotten— temporarily, at least. after about twenty minutes you step out, quickly wrapping a towel around you as the water dripping off your body and the chill in the air makes you shiver.

you move to grab your dirty clothes you left on the floor to put them in the hamper, but you don’t see your underwear.

“what the heck,” you mumble to yourself, shaking out the clothing items in your hands, checking if the item wasn’t just tangled amongst them.

“looking for these?” a voice— her voice— asks.

you jump with a gasp, feeling your heart spike in your chest as you look up to see ghostface standing at the bathroom’s open door.

she’s wearing her mask, signature big butchers knife in her hand as she twirls around your panties from it’s sharp point.

and…blood.

blood is on her hands and dripping off the weapon’s edge.

“y’know, i expected you to still be anxiously locking all the entrances of your house for a while longer, but you stopped only a year into moving here…” she wonders aloud with a fake whimsy to her tone, lifting off her mask to let her eyes drink in the image of you clutching your towel to your chest.

yunah lets your panties drop back onto the floor and steps closer.

she moves slowly, making your panic worsen as she corners you into the bathroom like prey. a small frightened noise comes from your chest when your back hits the wall, yunah’s face closer than ever as you watch her lips raise into a smirk.

“can you tell me why that is, bunny?”

your body trembles at the nickname that hasn’t been directed to you in years.

yunah started calling you that after one of the first dates you went on, the two of you watched a scary movie and you criticized the characters who were so easily killed.

“do you think you could do any better?” yunah had asked, smiling at you patronizingly yet fond.

“well, yeah? they always get killed cus’ they do something stupid, like lock themselves in one room or crawl through a fucking cat door.”

“and what would you do?”

“run.” you had simply answered.

“well?” yunah drawls, hot breath puffing into your face as she stands practically against you.

her knife is still raised, gently grazing the tip over your cheek as her eyes follow the movement.

“who’s blood is that?” you struggle out, feeling the crimson liquid trickle down your neck.

“drop your towel.”

“w— what?”

“i said drop your fucking towel, y/n.” she grits, moving the knife to apply harmless pressure to your neck— but it’s there, and it’s threatening.

the damp fabric lands with a thump on the cold tile floor, leaving your nipples to harden from the bite of the air.

“should have left that window fucking shut…” you whisper, but yunah obviously catches it with her close proximity.

she steps back just enough to run her perverted eyes all over your body, weapon moving from your neck down to your breasts.

you inhale shakily, yunah chuckling under her breath.

“yes, you should have. although it wouldn’t have mattered. i came in through the front door that you also conveniently forgot about.” she replies to your statement. “which brings me to my question that i asked first, why have you been leaving everything unlocked, y/n?”

you glare up into her eyes with wavering bravery, yunah finding you to look more like a scared, defenseless animal.

you don’t speak, trembling lips pursing into a thin line. yunah slides the flat of her knife over your nipple, spreading the leftover blood across your skin and causing you to flinch as a small moan escapes you.

“you missed me.” she states with suffocating confidence, seeing right through your facade— knowing how you really feel.

“you still love me. don’t you, bunny?”

she presses her chest against yours, the rough material of her shirt giving stimulation to your sensitive nipples as she moves the weapon back up towards your face. the steel blade swipes across your mouth, staining your lips red.

yunah tugs down your bottom lip with her thumb, rubbing slowly side to side before pushing inside your mouth. you take it without thinking, staring up into her eyes as you suck on her appendage, wincing at the steely taste of blood.

“still such a slut.” she marvels fondly, eyelids drooping as her breath gets a little heavier. you bob your head just slightly, like you would do to her cock, and yunah reacts with a groan. your pussy clenches at the sound.

“well, you didn’t exactly answer my question, bunny. but since you’re so cute and helpless right now, i’ll have some mercy and answer yours.”

she pulls her thumb back and you don’t release it until it comes out with a wet pop, yunah shuddering lowly before slamming her lips onto yours. she swallows your moans as her empty hand roams your body, fingers feathering over your bare pussy, trailing up to grope roughly at your breast before firmly wrapping around your throat.

you squirm. any shame has left your mind as you try and rub your cunt up onto yunah. she’s playing nice for now it seems, pressing her jean clad thigh between your legs and letting you hump against her. you whine into her kiss as the denim makes contact with your clit, biting on yunah’s bottom lip unconsciously in pleasure.

she grunts at the slight pain, slapping your ass before gripping it roughly and digging her nails into your flesh.

you lick her bottom lip and suck on her tongue in apology, yunah’s nails retracting to rub soothingly over the skin that now is littered with red crescent cuts.

“god, i love you, bunny.” she whispers. “it’s your date’s blood.”

“h— huh?” you gasp, eyes widening as yunah stares deeply into your eyes. “you…did you kill her?”

“do you care?” yunah quips back cockily, but you recognize the tinge of jealousy in her tone. “she was too quirky for you anyway— and small. you love it when someone makes you feel like the small one, don’t you? someone big enough to overpower you?”

she speaks in a dark tone, hand gripping your hip with possessiveness that’s sure to leave a bruise.

your breathing picks up again, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions— though you’re not sure what any of them are.

“fuck you, yunah.” you spit, the girl maniacally laughing with clear amusement.

“yes, sugar, later. right now i think i’m in the mood for a chase.”

she says this as she steps away from you, leaving you confused as she stares at you expectantly.

“well?” yunah lifts a brow, lowering the mask to cover her face completely again, gripping her knife a little tighter. “run, bunny.”

fear settles its anchor in your stomach and you take off, water and blood dripping from your naked body as you run down the stairs. there’s only the sound of your panicked gasps of breath before ghostface’s heavy footsteps creak down the steps, coming right after you. it almost makes you unable to think.

your first thought is the front door, but when you open it, you're greeted with the massacred body of your date sitting in a bloody, gutted heap of pink and red mush.

you scream, immediately slamming the door shut as you choke on a gag that tickles up your throat.

ghostface makes it down the stairs, taking large but calm steps towards you as her knife gleams in the moonlight, black plastic eyes staring blankly at you.

“stop!” you cry, suddenly thankful for the wrap around layout of your house as you run right, out of the livingroom and into the hallway.

you can go to the kitchen, bedroom, or second bathroom.

everything is a dead-end except the kitchen, which has two escape routes to the outside: a latch window and the back door.

you quickly open the bedroom door to throw ghostface off, then quietly sneak into the kitchen.

risking taking the time to carefully open a drawer and take a knife out— just in case, you then hurry over to the back door and turn the knob.

there’s the sound of something slicing through air before you yelp as it cuts into your hand, forcing you to jump away from the door.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” ghostface warns as she walks in, creepily melodic with how she speaks.

you look back at the doorknob, seeing her knife stabbed into the wood from the force ghostface threw it with, your blood splattered in a small area against the white paint.

“now look at that, you made me hurt you.” she says with mocking sympathy, her dangerous tone making your knees feel weak with fear.

you keep switching your eyes from looking at the window to ghostface.

she just stands, watching with undivided attention as she can practically see the cogs turning in your brain, waiting for what you’ll do next like she’s watching a mouse in a trap. (or a bunny in a snare.)

you suddenly run out of the kitchen’s second entry, ending up at the living room again and booking it up the stairs. you wouldn’t have had time to make it out the kitchen window with ghostface right there, but maybe you can escape through your bedroom’s window. it’s already open, and even though your house is two stories, there’s a tree right next to it that will shorten the drop— if you can reach a branch without falling off the roof.

when you get to your bedroom, ghostface is hot on your trail. you try to slam the door shut and lock it, but she presses against it from the other side right at the same time.

you push as hard as you can to shut the door, but ghostface has always been stronger than you.

busting the door open, your body is flung backward as you land on the floor, knife falling out of your hands and sliding away from you.

you scramble on the ground to get it back, just barely grasping it in your hand before ghostface grabs and flips you over onto your back, ripping her mask off and letting it clatter to the floor.

“s— stop it, yu—…yunah.” you struggle to get out from how your body and voice shakes, pressing your legs together in fear and ignoring the wetness between them as yunah cages your body with her limbs.

“oh, are you going to make me?” she challenges with no fear, the smile on her face clearly expressing that she doesn’t take a word you say seriously.

“go on then, bunny. take a stab at me.”

yunah drops her own knife from her hands, baring herself to your mercy.

your eyes widen, hands shaking as you pathetically raise the knife.

you look from her eyes to her vulnerable stomach that you could easily plunge the weapon into, and back up to her eyes again.

yunah slenders her gaze as if to say ‘you can’t do it, can you?’.

you burst into sobs, dropping the knife and hiding your face in your hands.

yunah leans down to coo at you, running her fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead.

“i knew you couldn’t do it, bunny. i’ve been watching you ever since you left town, and you know what i found out?”

you take watery gasps, wiping off your tears so you can look up at yunah.

you know the answer, even in your messy state. it’s apparent throughout everything in your life, after all these years and all the decisions you’ve made.

“i—…that i n— never stopped loving you.”

“that’s right, sugar. couldn’t even bear to kiss your date, could you?”

you shake your head, cries reducing to sniffles as yunah cups your face with her still bloodied hand, the liquid beginning to dry as it feels tacky on your skin.

“it’s okay, bunny. you were a good girl, so i won’t punish you…too much. as for her…well,” she laughs— and it sounds hollow, devoid of anything other than hate and rage. “she got what she deserved.”

suddenly yunah is picking up her knife and hoisting you up, your waist thrown over her shoulder as you gasp in surprise while she walks over to the bed.

yunah takes a handful of your ass, admiring how it jiggles when she jostles it in her hand before giving it a hard spank. you whimper and push back into her palm, wordlessly asking for more.

“slut.” she chuckles under her breath, throwing you roughly on the mattress a second later.

yunah places her knife on your nightstand as you sit up on your elbows to look back at her curiously. yunah practically devours your body with her eyes as she strips off her shirt, your mouth watering at the revealed expanse of her long torso and toned abs. you can’t help but whine when she slowly pushes the waistband of her pants and underwear down, her hard, huge cock slapping against her stomach wetly.

“missed this, bunny?”

you only whine, feeling like the deparate whore that you are for yunah as you blatantly squeeze and rub your thighs together, trying to bring any sort of relief to your needy pussy. you practically feel edged by everything that’s transpired so far.

“come.” yunah orders, pointing at the floor in front of her.

you know what that means, quickly getting off the bed and on your knees, looking up at her with pathetically begging eyes.

she only acknowledges you with a piercing stare, picking up her knife again as she moves it beneath your hairline, pressing the cold, flat side of its blade into the nape of your neck.

“now suck.”

you’re eager, enveloping her dick into your watering mouth and pushing yourself as far down the long shaft as you can muster.

you gag, yunah’s salty pre-cum making you salivate for more as you don’t pull off, only trying to push her cock deeper down your throat. even as your eyes squeeze shut, choking around her— you don’t stop.

not until yunah roughly pulls you off by the hair, a deep sound coming out of you as your mouth is suddenly empty, gasping and coughing while a string of saliva hangs from your lips.

“did i say swallow me whole? dumb whore. suck.”

you immediately do as she says, apologizing with your eyes and pliant little hums around her as just the tip is in your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop.

yunah bares her teeth at the teasing pleasure, bares his teeth at the teasing pleasure, watching your lips that are glossy with your own spit, prettily wrapped around his big dick. you look so small and helpless like this: kneeling, naked, someone else’s blood drying on your body— as well as a little of your own.

yunah thinks you’re most beautiful like this. her slutty little bunny trapped in the snare she made just for you.

grabbing a painfully tight fistful of your hair, she slams your face against her pelvis. you’re reduced to choking sounds and sputters as you struggle to take the sheer size of her into your mouth, yunah continuing to catch you off guard as she starts bobbing your head up and down her shaft like a cock sleeve.

you cry and moan at the feeling of her using you like a cheap whore, your pussy throbbing with the need to be touched but being ignored— and it only turns you on that much more.

your scalp burns as yunah keeps yanking you by the hair, spit seeping out of the corners of your stretched lips and running down your chin.

“almost forgot what a dirty slut you could be, bunny. f— fucking shit!”

hearing yunah’s hard resolve crack, you’re hit with another wave of enthusiasm.

you swallow around her, doing your best to lick and suck whenever you get the chance between the harsh movements she controls you with. then you have an idea, and without a second thought you’re executing it.

moving a hand down to your pussy, you smear the generous wetness on your fingers, lifting them up to cup yunah’s balls, fondling them with ease thanks to your slick.

“god— fuck! good girl! that’s a good little whore. choke on my dick while you make me messy.”

you feel like you could almost cum just from yunah’s words, the tingly pain at your scalp, and the full mouth of dick you’re taking. moans almost rhythmically come from your throat as your free hand goes down to rub desperately at your neglected clit, hips making trembling movements at the pleasure that’s not enough while at the same time being too much.

“bunny, oh— damn. you really like me fucking your mouth, don’t you sugar?”

“mm—hmm,” you moan around her, yunah starting to snap her hips more aggressively. you feel her dick pulse in your mouth, a deep growl coming from her a moment later, signaling her soon release.

“you ready for me, bunny? you ready for my cum?”

please, please, yes— you want to say, but it only comes out as whimpers as her cock bruises the back of your throat.

your thighs begin to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer. yunah moans out, pressing her hips flat against your face as her dick throbs, pumping a huge load down your throat. that paired with the feeling of her knife pressing harder into your neck sends you into white hot ecstasy, shaking like a leaf and thighs clenching around your own hand as you ride it out on your soaked fingers.

yunah’s dick is dripping with your spit and her cum when she pulls out, still hard as a rock and catching her breath as she slowly jerks herself off, wincing at the painful pleasure after just cumming— but not able to stop as she’s mesmerized by how much of the both of you there is, mixing all together with each movement of her hand.

yunah then looks over at you just as you’re pulling your hand away from yourself, groaning as she sees the wet webs between your fingers.

“get on the bed, bunny. ass up.”

your movements are clumsy as you’re still weak from the hard orgasm, but you want more, so you do as she says. yunah gives you a helping hand, making sure you don’t fall as the both of you get on the bed.

yunah sits up on her knees behind you. your ass looks amazing in this position, and your legs are spread, completely unable to hide your dripping pussy from yunah’s hungry eyes.

you turn your head, looking back at her with fucked out eyes that ask for more. she smirks, placing both hands on either side of your hips before stooping low to go down on your sloppy cunt.

“oh— fuck, yu— yunah!”

you’re so turned on, and if you really think about it (which you’re trying not to), you probably shouldn’t be— not after what she’s done.

and yet, here you are, whining like a whore as the ghostface killer fucks your pussy with her tongue.

she can’t get enough of your taste, she went years without it after all, and she finds she’s going feral now that you’re finally in her mouth again. she delves her tongue as deeply as it can go, paying attention to what movements make you cry louder. yunah makes sure to pull out and suck your puffy clit between her lips, proud at herself with how it makes your legs quiver, before shoving her appendage back inside your core and fucking it in and out of you.

“yunah, please,” you beg, already needing release as you’re sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“no,” she barks, annoyed that she even has to separate her mouth from your pussy to speak, reconnecting with you immediately after.

you dare to whine defiantly at her, and yunah reacts by reigning her hand down on your ass.

the hit is hard, making your eyes widen and taking your breath away as the strength she uses on you is unexpected. you can feel your skin tingling and hot from where the slap landed, and somehow it just makes you feel even more needy.

yunah knows you liked it, she can tell by how your pussy is contracting around her tongue, making her smirk against you as she keeps eating you out with no mercy.

you wiggle your hips just slightly, side to side, unable to keep still as you just need more.

you feel yunah’s annoyed growl, the vibrations of it sending a shock of pleasure straight to your core. she spanks you again, right on the same spot as before. this time a sob is ripped out of your chest at the pain, your face burying into the bed.

“you’re a bad fucking girl, can’t even do what i want you to.” yunah grits as she removes her mouth and shoves two merciless fingers inside you instead, roughly curving them as her thumb rubs at your clit. the amount of pain and pleasure is equal now, making you want to pull away while at the same time push closer. the sounds your pussy makes as yunah quickly moves her fingers are loud and should be embarrassing— yet all you can think about is how good she’s making you feel and how badly you need to cum.

“yu, i— really i can’t��� can’t take it!”

“oh you’ll take it, bitch. if you want me to fuck you with my cock by the end of this.”

“no— yes! please, want your cock!” you blubber, the thought of not getting it making you feel as if you could cry at any moment, that paired with how meanly yunah treats your desperate little pussy, fucking it like she wants you to squirt all over the sheets— yet refusing to let you.

“i’ll be good, yunah! i’ll let you do whatever you want, just— let me cum!”

the girl doesn’t say anything, fingers not stopping as you feel her other hand’s nails dig into the flesh of your ass again, leaving more claiming cuts into your skin.

“fine, filthy slut. cum.”

the relief and pleasure of finally letting go is too much, your hearing is reduced to a high pitched ringing, and you’re not sure if your eyes are shut or if your vision has blacked out.

when you come back to, you’re on your back, yunah’s hands all over your body as the look in her eyes looks like she’s truly lost it.

“yu, can’t,” you pant out as she starts lifting your limp leg to her shoulder.

but she doesn’t stop, her frantic movements continue, only looking up at you with pupils you swear are blown out.

“you’ll let me do whatever i want, remember?” she speaks out roughly, her throat scratchy either from eating you out so vigorously or from being so turned on.

“even if you didn’t let me, i’d still do whatever i want with you.” she cruelly chuckles, smirking down at you. the points of her teeth remind you of a wolf.

guess you really are the bunny.

you whimper— and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or twisted arousal.

tears fill your eyes as you watch yunah grab her huge cock, jerking it a few times to spread her cum. (not that she needs to— you literally just squirted.) you can only imagine how big the stretch will be inside your tiny little pussy to fit her huge girth. you’ve taken it before of course, but your insides are crying out in sensitivity, and your head feels foggy, like you could fall back out of consciousness again.

“please, yunah, please—“

you’re words are cut off by your own agonized cry as yunah’s cock feels like it’s piercing your guts, pushing and pushing until she’s down to the hilt.

then she starts thrusting into you with enough power that it pushes your head against the headboard, your hands moving up to brace yourself as your hiked up leg tightens around her shoulder.

despite everything, you can’t help the delirious moan you let out, feeling your pussy ooze more fluids you didn’t think you had at this point.

“my slutty little bunny, huh, y/n?” yunah almost coos, if it wasn’t for how her teeth are harshly bared.

“missed my big dick abusing your insides, didn’t you, bunny?”

you sob, tears racing down your cheeks as your hole helplessly clenches and suffocates on yunah’s huge, unforgiving length.

“admit it. admit you’re a dirty whore for me.”

“i am— i am, yunah!” you pant out breathlessly, each of her bruising thrusts feeling like they punch the breath right out of you. your chest aches from the big gulps of air you take. “m’a whore, such a dirty whore for you, yunah— fuck, please!”

yunah’s pants almost match up with your own, her body starting to tremble as she moves to lean down on her elbows against the bed, the new position forcing your leg to stretch even further— causing yunah’s cock to ram even deeper inside you.

“you’re mine. you hear me, bitch? you’re fucking mine! don’t ever think i’m gonna let you run away from me again.”

“oh god— i’m cumming!” you scream, unable to even ask for permission or try to hold back as your body convulses with the waves wracking over your body.

the only thing that keeps the darkened edges of your vision from completely taking over is yunah’s dick driving into you, chasing after her own high as your pussy spasms around her. you’re almost too tight, your core literally unable to take her huge size anymore as yunah forces her cock in again and again, balls slapping crudely against you.

when she finally busts inside, yunah clamps her teeth down on your neck, the sensations overwhelming her as she fucks you full of her cum.

she doesn’t pull out, even when your crying doesn't stop, she keeps your poor abused pussy plugged up with her full load by her huge dick.

once yunah catches her breath, she glides her tongue across her teeth, curious at the taste of blood in her mouth.

“yu, you bit me.” you whine, pouting at her as you try to look where her teeth left bloody marks into the junction of your shoulder.

yunah sighs, and you can tell by the noise and how her eyes flit over the wound excitedly that it turns her on.

her tongue licks over the bite in apology, cleaning up the blood before pressing little kisses all over it.

“you make me crazy, bunny.” she whispers lovingly, eventually pulling away from your shoulder to hover above your face.

you stare at each other silently, before you tilt your chin up, begging for a kiss with pouty lips and shiny eyes.

yunah smiles, those wolfish teeth still poking through slightly as she leans down to capture you in a slow, passionate kiss.

it tastes like blood and cum.

your blood and cum.

the realization frightens you only a little bit, the stronger emotion being some sort of sick arousal.

yunah might be crazy over you, but she’s definitely made you crazy as well.

REBLOG/COMMENT TO MAKE AUTHOR SMILE

NOTE: divs by adornedwithlight

[cowboyemeritus]

uhhhh I was under the weather recently and it got me thinkin’

You laugh a little as Copia holds the glass of water to your lips. With a shaky hand, you take it from him, acetaminophen tablets clasped in the other. “It’s just the flu, babe.” He pouts as you pop the pills in your mouth, sip the water, and then swallow, grimacing as they go down your inflamed throat. You sniffle, and he instantly reaches for a tissue. “Seriously.” Snatching it away, you can’t help but feel a little guilty at the wounded look on his face. After blowing your nose you crumple the tissue into a ball, chucking it at the wastebasket. It bounces off the rim, landing on the floor. Copia starts to get up but you stop him, placing your hand on his. “I’ll get it later.”

“I am just trying to be useful, amore.” Oh, your darling Copia. He’s been distressed from the moment the headache settled behind your eyes. His Church duties have been… set aside for the time being, him fussing over every stage of your illness. You both know the paperwork is piling up, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. More than a few nights in a row you’ve caught him laying awake just to listen to you breathe. Every time you tell him you’re fine, that you can take care of yourself, but the dark circles under his eyes persist, his body rigid with nervous tension. At this point, he’s suffering more than you.

He can’t help it. You know that. This is just another one of those things, another new tic, that has developed in the wake of his ascension. As a firsthand witness to her decline, he watched helplessly for months as his mother — damn that woman — withered away, unable to do anything about it. In typical Imperator fashion, she kept him in the dark; every attempt to question her wellbeing, her ability to run the church, had been waved off. It was easier to let himself be lured into a false sense of security, to believe that she was invincible. Her death had truly blindsided him, leaving him unanchored and drifting in a sea of upheaval.

Copia. Your poor, sweet Copia. He’s not about to make that same mistake again.

“My love,” you say, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from his face. He leans into your touch like a puppy, eyes wide and watery. “Oh, come here.” Your body protests but you scoot over on the bed, patting the spot you’ve made for him. When Copia hesitates you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you. You’re not worried about the malady spreading; if he was going to get sick, he would have already.

He comes to lay next to you, head resting on your chest so that his ear is directly over your heart. One of your hands begins to card through his hair, the mousy brown locks looking grayer every day. You know it preoccupies him; he frets over it in the mirror every morning when he thinks you’re still asleep. You tell him it’s handsome, and sometimes that helps. When that doesn’t work, you remind Copia that your love isn’t based on something so superficial. It’s him, just him, that your heart belongs to. And when returns to the mirror the next morning, you swear to yourself that someday he’ll never feel worried or sad or insecure ever again. You’ll do anything, kill anyone, to make that happen.

“I love you,” you whisper, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. “Thank you for taking care of me.” You get no response and for a moment something sharp, scared, pokes around in your stomach. Then he snores a little and it all melts away. Nothing else matters but you and him, safe and warm and together for good. He makes another quiet noise and you smile, unable to contain your joy that he has found a scrap of peace in this chaos. Carefully, as not to disturb him, you reach over to turn off the bedside lamp, feeling your own eyes begin to droop. You sigh, the last of the pressure in your skull ceding as the room falls into darkness. “‘M not going anywhere, darling. We’re in this thing together.”

Baby steps, you think, just before falling asleep. Tomorrow will be better.

[sazandorable]

akai shuuichi

For nearly a year now I have been plagued by awareness of and lust for Akai Shuuichi from classic manga/anime series Detective Conan, of all things. It never stops. It keeps getting worse. My friends with me in the fandom are angels of patience, indulgence and gentle teasing, but for everyone out of that loop I need to explain.

Akai Shuuichi.

He's got striking green eyes and identifiably long lashes.

He is so tall, wears leather jackets, and often has one or both hands in his pockets.

He's left-handed.

He smokes.

He drives cool cars.

He has lived in the UK, in Japan, and in LA.

He used to have princess long hair he was super proud about. He chopped it all off after "a bad breakup" (more on this later).

Most of the time he looks like death badly warmed over in a prehistoric microwave oven. Bags under his eyes, sharp boney facial structure that makes his face look like a skull, an entire scene dedicated to him dropping a can of shitty coffee in dramatic slow-mo, apparently out of exhaustion. I want to bundle him in a huge duvet and spoonfeed him chicken soup.

He is so fucking smart.

He is so fucking funny in a deadpan way.

He looks so serious but does the wildest shit like it's a normal (and easy) thing to do.

He is a sniper. An absurdly good one.

Also excellent physical fighter. He's so cool, he doesn't do karate or judo like the protag's close allies or even boxing like Sherlock Holmes -- he does Jeet Kune Do like Bruce Lee.

He is good at everything.

He's FBI, one of their best.

He doesn't say shit but understands everything.

At any given point you have no idea where the fuck Akai is and what he's doing, but he'll always be where he's needed.

Hottest trait: reliable. Unfailingly reliable.

He infiltrated the big bad meanie shadow organisation at the heart of the series' overarching plot and became a very high-ranking member of it.

Now that he's been found out and burned, the common reaction to Akai Shuuichi from members of that organisation is "shit, he's our biggest threat, kill kill kill".

A guy from the organisation once realised he was being chased by the Akai Shuuichi and immediately shot himself in the head rather than deal with him.

Another shot himself after having been dealt with by Akai Shuuichi.

To be fair, it's apparently the guideline of the org to not leave loose ends and not get caught alive, but still. This doesn't happen with other characters.

He was a honey pot.

His seduction method was to let his target hit him with her car and then hit on her when she visited him in the hospital.

He ended up catching genuine feelings for her. Then she got killed, so now he has angst about that.

He refers to wanting to avenge her death and kill the guy that killed her as "I'll make my girlfriend cry tears of scarlet blood in regret for ever dumping me".

He says to himself "Hi, my precious, precious lover ❤" while sniping at the man who killed her through that guy's own sniper scope from over 700 yards away.

Hits him, too. 600+ episodes later the guy still has the scar on his cheek and touches it occasionally.

He also dated a FBI colleague, whom he first met when they bumped into each other and he pointed out she should apologise too because "the blame was 50/50".

She was super offended. And then she dated him.

Another, male, colleague once referred to Akai Shuuichi as "my wife".

The official resident Pretty Boy fanservice man is obsessed with him because he believes Akai caused the death of his own childhood friend(/boyfriend).

It was actually the pretty boy's own fault. For incomprehensible reasons, instead of ever telling him that, Akai "the blame is 50/50" Shuuichi takes on that responsibility and even tells him he still feels sorry about it, and lets this incredibly dangerous man repeatedly try to out and/or kill him and put so, so many people in danger in an attempt to get his revenge. It is all incredibly homoerotic.

He still humiliates this guy every time they meet, and sometimes when they don't.

He's so sweet about so many upsetting things like this or his own honeypot girlfriend incident, but also so ruthless about others. He'll do anything to get a foot into the shadow organisation. He'll use himself as bait. He'll use a colleague who idolises him as decoy (with his knowledge and consent). He'll use a 6yo as scout. He'll use a comatose woman, her little brother, your crush's dad, your dad, his ex, himself again.

"No, Conan-kun, don't get your loved ones entangled into this, what we do is dangerous and sometimes we get people killed. Anyway let's use this entire hospital full of injured civillians for a high-risk trick." - Akai Shuuichi

He's so sweet and also such a dick.

He also has daddy issues because his father was MI6 and seems to have died on the job in mysterious circumstances.

He's an oldest brother.

Because of his choice to start a dangerous job after what happened to his father and various other plot reasons, he is estranged from his remaining family they don't even share a last name anymore.

He and his little sister barely know each other, but she's emulating him and looking for him and trying to know him and it's so sweet. He can't let that happen for both of their safety, but also he's being a dick about it.

He faked his death.

So he's currently on his 4th name (that I know of).

He's now pretending to be a 5 years younger phD student with pink hair, glasses, and turtlenecks.

The turtlenecks are for hiding the fact that he's constantly wearing a voice-changing device. The device is a metal choker.

He's now living his best domestic quiet life at the hero's parents' manor-like house, reading their books and drinking their booze.

The hero's dad, who is a very popular author, wrote a book inspired by him. The book inspired by him got adapted into a movie and won an award.

The hero's mom, who is an incredibly talented and famous actress and a total hottie, has a crush on him. She taught him to cook.

Sometimes he drops by the neighbours' to share a meal he cooked with the old man and little girl living there and the kids often visiting. The kids told him his curry was not that great so he's working on it.

For another meal that failed to satisfy, he read cookbooks then asked an old lady to teach him the special recipe that had emotional value to her.

Man who is good at everything is not good at cooking. So he's learning that. From the women in his life. For the kids in his life.

He's so fond of the hero. They get each other and they don't usually run into anyone who does. They like each other so much. Autistic to autistic communication.

The hero is in the body of a 6-year-old. Akai is so impressed with him and thinks he's so cool and talks to him like an equal.

One time they went fishing and for a cover the hero called him "daddy".

Akai Shuuichi knows he's a weapon of destruction and can do pretty much anything. He's not a brag about it, just practical. He is basically the hero's on-call guard/attack dog now.

When the hero needs help, he calls Akai-san, and Akai says yeah, I followed the situation, I was waiting for your call, I know what you're going to ask me to do. Point me at the target and I'll take care of it.

And then he just does that.

In the latest movie, the hero needs to take care of an armoured submarine that is currently underwater and doesn't get picked up by radards. Akai goes "ok, I can handle that".

He shows up in a helicopter with an American rocket launcher and is like "ok, just show me where it is". The hero just has to light up the submarine for a couple seconds. Then Akai one-shots it. From the helicopter. While it's still underwater.

Then he goes home.

(To the hero's parents' home.)

This is Akai Shuuichi with little resources and lots of constraints, such as being an FBI agent in Japan not supposed to be there or do anything, certainly not use weapons, and by the way legally dead and cannot let the organisation know he's still alive because that would endanger several other people.

He plays the accordion.

[angelatmidnight1]

I was wondering if you had any Lee!Astarion headcanons? The man deserves love and laughter 😭

A/N: He does, so I gave these a try. I mainly listened/watched a lot of Neil Newbon's streams to help with these so I hope they're in character for Astarion.

Lee!Astarion Tickle Headcanons

“You’re staring at me again. What do you want?”

Astarion is initially guarded when it comes to being tickled; it’s one thing when he’s the one doling them out, it’s another thing for him to be vulnerable and giggly with someone else.

He didn’t have any of those softer moments for nearly two centuries. So, the prospect of being tickled was pushed far out of his mind.

Asking him if he’s ticklish in the earlier parts of the adventure will only have him scoffing and rolling his eyes. “There’s a tadpole swimming in our skulls, and you’re asking me that? Your timing is impeccable.”

If he becomes more comfortable around someone and he’s asked the same question, he’s a bit less guarded, but he still deflects the question. He may even offer a flirty response if the asker is someone he likes. “You know, If you’re so eager to touch me, all you have to do is ask, darling.”

The truth is that Astarion isn’t sure if he’s ticklish or not. It’s easier to deflect or say that he isn’t instead of admitting to something that could be used against him. 

It’ll take some time for him to be open to the idea of being tickled, so surprise attacks don’t initially go over well with him. He’ll get snappy and slap the offending hand away. 

As a friendship and/or a romantic partnership is established, when Astarion trusts you, he slowly opens up to the idea. He’d never tell a living soul, or an undead one for that matter, but he secretly enjoys it.

The initial experiences he had with tickling involved him sitting up, hands free, allowing his ‘ler to gradually introduce him to it. He gritted his teeth, suppressing much of his laughter, but it didn’t last too long. Astarion is very ticklish. 

His laugh is normally practiced: light, musical, and charming. His genuine laugh ranges from manic giggles or loud cackles. Still adorable, but he gets flustered if it’s pointed out. 

Astarion covers his face or torso more than wrestling with his ‘ler’s hands. It doesn’t do much to ward off the ticklish sensations, and unconsciously gives the notion that maybe he doesn’t mind it.  He’ll deny it backwards and forwards if someone calls it out. 

In truth, laughing himself silly can be cathartic for him. He feels safe and lighter and is able to explore a more innocent intimacy without feeling guilty or uncomfortable. 

Astarion’s a super teasy ‘ler himself, but being on the receiving end of teases is a novel experience for him. And they’re met with snippy retorts or lighthearted threats or insults, ranging from “I’m gohohoing to fuhucking kihill youhu” or “juhuhust wahahait until I geheht my hahahnds on youhu”. 

He’s ticklish everywhere but is especially ticklish on his underarms, hips, and ears.

Sometimes he hiccups or coughs if he’s laughing hard enough. And if he isn’t covering his face, his fangs are on full display. 

When he’s more comfortable with his companions, playful tickle attacks aren’t met with as much of a bite. Squeezing his sides while he’s not paying attention will earn his ‘ler a squealing “AAAHAHA”, and revenge will be swift.  “Think you’re funny, do you? Come here!”

He also appreciates gentle, almost massage-like tickles from a partner every now and again. Tickles where he doesn’t immediately jump away and maybe even lean into them a bit. Sneaking in kisses will elicit gentle smiles and sighs. “I do rather like that, you know. The massage, I mean. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind doing it again for me, hm?”

[bonefall]

May i ask why do you think that Brambleclaw wasn't a good father? not saying i disagree if that is what you think, but why do you? just wondering because i like what you say

Again I hope to have time sometime soon to make a big thing like I did with Breeze, but what gets me about Bramble is that incredibly self-concerned. Like, regularly unable to see past his own feelings to the point where he can't consider his effect on other people.

And Po3 in particular is ALSO trying to frame him like the perfect, most amazing dad in the world. It's for the dramatic irony of the reveal, and to make it EXTRA sad that he's going to abandon his children when he finds out they're adopted... but in the process, they just ignore anything crummy he does. Like he can Do No Wrong.

Particular instances I plan to get into;

When he's angry or disappointed, he's NASTY. He isn't this "super supportive papa" that the Three keep saying he is; he's most supportive when they're making him proud.

He fails to notice that Lionpaw's behavior is getting increasingly violent as a result of his mentor physically abusing him. Is that "Great Dad" material? To not notice your son is struggling?

We eventually learn that Ashfur approached him after one of these savage beatings to butter up to Brambleclaw, insisting that this sort of physical abuse is neccesary because it will give him a strong son.

Stress that again; Ashfur appealed to Brambleclaw's ego so he could keep beating his teenage child. In what world is that "Great Dad" material??

When Hollypaw then tries to tell her dad about how uncomfortable seeing her brother being savaged made her, Bramble tells her... ohh she's So smart, and So so responsible, and he relies on her to keep her brothers in line, and what Ashfur is doing is neccesary.

In any other book series, this would have been a MASSIVE condemnation of Brambleclaw. To be manipulated into allowing his son to get beat, and then turning around to tell his daughter he trusts her to understand it because she's so mature.

But because the Erins like Bramble so very much, it's not acknowledged. Then Ashfur tries to murder these kids later.

And like... again, they want him to be seen as so wonderful and amazing so that it's extra painful when he disowns these kids, but AGAIN, Brambleclaw is supposed to be this incredibly loving, unconditionally loyal, amazingly responsible father...

So how exactly is THAT consistent with abandoning his kids during the most upsetting time of their lives?

Does a wonderful father get consumed by his own pain and humiliation and cut off his kids, one of whom is in the middle of a breakdown? Does he take out his divorce on the children? Is being a "wonderful father" seeing the son you let get abused looking at you, DESPERATELY missing you as his dad, and just turning away?

Or, maybe, being a parent is about being mature. Putting aside your own personal anger or pain or ego to be there for your kids. Something like that???

And yet, he continues to act like that for an entire year. Not improving or self-reflecting at ALL the entire time. When it's miraculously revealed that Hollyleaf isn't DEAD, he's STILL wallowing. The kid he raised came back from the dead but FUCK that, who cares, "what about MY feelings?? Why is no one thinking about whats really important. Meeee."

(Mind you, he was willing to help this same person get away with murder in the last arc. But back then, she was his daughter. Now he doesn't care.)

Eventually SQUIRRELFLIGHT has to tell him that he shouldn't throw away his entire family because he's mad at her. Someone ELSE had to shout it down his thick skull that his bitterness is consuming him and he's ruining his life. Even after a year of punishment, she holds his hand like a big baby and guides him away from his OWN destructive behaviors.

But this isn't about Squilf. This is about Brambleclaw.

He enabled his son's child abuse. The abuser went on to attempt murder of his victim. He IMMEDIATELY turned on the kids he raised when he found out they were secretly adopted, because he was angry at his ex-wife. He only changed because the EX-WIFE told him to cut it out.

That's why I think he's not a great dad. I think talk of his Greatly Dadness are narration wank, and when you look closer, you see a FASCINATINGLY flawed character that the Erins hold back out of WEIRD writer favoritism.