#and look at Killer! Going from denial to acceptance

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Parentalbond Killer

Okay I am back at it again! Thanks to @spotaus for the original prompt :D

This was the next one I wanted to write about the gang all bonding with Nightmare and separatly growing into their new roles as caretakers/parents. (Nightmare is no doing this on purpose. He is even more surprised than the gang members are)

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Lets see... As always, unbeta'ed and uneditied. We are hanging out and having fun!

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Killer grumbles as he sits on the bench. Trying to ignore the looks thrown his way as parents pull their children away from him.

Which, good! Don't come near him or try to get friendly. He isn't in the mood.

Killer glances around the small park he and Nightmare are in now. And idea from Horror, he figured it would be good for Nightmare to do actual child things which includes going to a park to play and interact wiht others.

Dust, the hovering and motherhenning bastard, had nodded and agreed easily. Until it became obvious that it wouldn't be him that would take Nightmare to the park.

Killer is still not quite sure what caused this... weird thing that Dust got going on. It isn't as if he acts differently, he is still Dust! He is just... Killer doens't know.

Anyway. Dust had been needed to help shadow people for intel. Killer huffs as he crosses hsi arms, he could have gone that just fine.

Horror and Cross however are looking for a magical hotspot to recharge their crystals. Cross could use his knife to cut between dimensions but his power is much more obvious than the crystals and leaves traces.

They pretty much did rock paper scissor to see who would stay with Nightmare. Nightmare hadn't looked like he cared but Dust had looked annoyed at their entics.

Look. Just because Dust was flourishing with taking care of a babybones for some reason meant that they all were!

Killer sighs as his sight easily finds Nightmare. Nightmare is just sitting in the shadw of a tree as he reads his book. Killer isn't surprised. Nightmare isn't exactly the most social babybones, he wasn't either when he was still in his adult form.

All that happened was that Nightmare is now more anxious and shy. Which, fitting for a kid even if Killer keeps getting surprised by it.

He leans back against the bench and jsut closes his sockets for a bit. At least Ngihtmare wasn't trying to run off all the time anymore. That is helpful. Seems that whatever caused Dust to be chill about watching a babybones also caused Nightmare to grow more comfortable with just being near them.

Which is fantastic! Killer had been half convinced Ngihtmare would never forgive them for their betrayal and that they would have had to get him a child leash.

Heh. Maybe still a fun idea to offer.

Killer snorts and chuckles as he imagines the insulted look on tiny boss' face. He would be so mad!

"Well hello there tiny one. What are you reading?"

Killer can't help but focus on the voice... something about it sounds off.

Nightmare's voice is much softer and harder to hear in the crowd but Killer is by now used to picking his voice out.

"... my book..."

A hum "I see. Is it interesting?"

Nightmare gives a non-commiting hum but not much more.

A chuckle "Not much of a talker are you? That is alright. Kids should know when to be quiet after all."

Multiple red flags and alarm bells. Killer's sockets snap open and he looks right back at where Nightmare was. He is still in his spot and he is holding his book close, a larger figure standing close.

Too. Close.

Killer growls as he jumps up from his spot and sprints over.

The other figure reaches for Nightmare but Killer is faster and Killer hits them with a kick right to the head to get them away.

Killer pants as he stands between Nightmare and the grounded being, a human by the looks of it.

Killer feels Nightmare grab his shirt and hide behind him. Good.

Killer puts a hand on top of Nightmare's skull for a moment before finding his shoulder and pushing him closer to his side. His sockets never leaving his target on the ground.

The human looks up annoyed before slight worry goes over their face goes back to annoyance "What was that for?!" they stand up and brush themselves off.

Killer hears other people mumble around them and Nightmare starts to shake under his hand. Killer just holds him closer as he rubs his back. Glaring at the human.

"What was that far?! Why the hell were you getting so close to my babybones?!" Killer hisses as he keeps Nightmare close. Staring the disgusting piece of shit down that tried to get near Nightmare.

The adult looks between Killer and Nightmare with a deep frown "I didn't realise you were his parent. I figured he was alone and was trying to find out where to find his parents." the human stands up and brushes off the dirt on him.

Killer just continues to glare.

The human huffs "Well? apologise."

Killer smirks "Why should I? You were preying on a child." and the only reason that disgusting human isn't dead yet is because there are too many witnesses and Killer doesn't know if the others are done with their job yet. They are trying to stay low profile.

The human gasps "I would never! I can't believe you just said that!"

Killer huffs as he dismisses the useless waste of space as he turns and picks Nightmare up. His soul finally calms down when it feels Nightmare close and safe against Killer and Killer's soul. It should have been uncomfortable but it is surprisingly nice. The way that Nightmare is warm and tiny and perfect to be held.

Okay. Maybe Killer kinda gets now why Dust seems to take personal offence to the idea of putting Nightmare back on the ground.

Killer walks away and is halfway across the park when a hand reaches for him. Killer turns and has his knife out and a snarl on his face in seconds.

The human, a new one, pulls their arm back and holds their hands up in surrender "right! I am sorry. I should have realised that youwould still be tense after... that." they look back at the other human, who is now surrounded by others, before looking back at him with a smile "My dad owns the ice cream store near here. I am sure he will be happy to offer you two a treat to calm down and relax after what just happened."

Killer frowns as he still feels the lightly shaking form of Nightmare in his arms "As... nice as that is... He is stressed and I don't think being around others will help him with that... Ice crema stores tend to be busy." especially as it is summer in this universe.

The human smiles "I will make sure it is empty! Give you two room to relax! If you don't like it you are obivously welcome to go. I just..." they rub their arm "I am sorry I didn't help. I saw it happen and was frozen and stuck on how i should act or behave. What I could do and what was... appropriate for me to do. You just. did whatever was needed!" they smile.

Killer looks at the human as if they are crazy. He shoots Nightmare a look and Nightmare looks just as shocked, through his own still slightly shaky state. Killer raises a brow at him and nods towards the human "What do you think tiny boss? Want ice cream?"

Nightmare pulls a face at his new nickname but gives ashrug as reply.

Okay yeah Killer will assume that means 'yes but i don't want to admit it because wanting things in the past always got me hurt.'

....

Killer is not at all projecting.

Killer nods and not much later finds himself in an empty ice cream store. the human having spoken to an older human, their father, and the grumpy old man just listened before nodding and changing the sign from open to closed.

A lot of taste testing later and they settled on a very sweet sunday of some kind. Some very sweet strawberry mouse kinda thing with white chocolate sauce with blueberries on top.

Killer honestly hadn't expected that but maybe he should have. Back in the castle Nightmare had always drunk his coffee with a lot of cream and sugar cubes. Killer snorts as he watches Nightmare enjoy the treat and slowly relax.

The old grumby owner stands by him "Well? what do you want?"

Killer blinks as he looks over "Oh. It is fine." he shrugs "Only got enough gold with me for his treat." Killer goes back to making sure Nightmare doesn't inhale something in his rush.

The human huffs "None of that. Parents who do the right thing and protect their children deserve a treat as well, what do you want."

It takes a moment for Killer to realise what the other said "Woh! wait! He isn't mine. Well. not technically. I am just watching him for friends!"

The human just raises a brow "Doesn't make your action any less worth. What do you want?"

Killer rubs his neck "Look I can get very specific and weird with my orders. It is fine..." low profile. low profile. You were the one who told everyone to keep a low profile. stick to it yourself.

the human does not look convinced and just waits.

Killer then grins "okay fine. I would love a hot white chocolate milk with cherry syrup." and he waits for the normal disgusted look his order gets. Grinning widely.

The man just nods "Easy enough. You heard that Lass?"

the other human, Lass, nods "Got it!" and they move around the counter.

Killer blinks "But it is weird?"

The human huffs and grins "Kid it is hardly the weirdest thing I have heard in my life." he looks at Ngihtmare "Is the ice cream good?"

Ngithmare freezes at the attention and shoots Killer a glace, relaxes a bit to see him, before looking back at the human and nodding. It takes amoment before Nightmare speaks "It is good... thank you?" it sounds more like a question than anything but Killer will count it! Their little Nightmare may be grumpy but he has manners!

The older human huffs and has a smile on his face "Good to hear. You two take your time." which is when Lass gets to them with Killer's drink before both humans leave to do stuff by the counter and back.

Killer watches them before leaning close to Nightmare "You good? Food actually okay and not bothering you?"

Ngihtmare shrugs as he eats another bite.

Killer grins "Come on tiny boss. Gotta use words or I will just keep talking and tlaking and talking-"

Nightmare groans and shoots him a glare. There is his grumpy buddy! Nightmare turns back to his treat before answering "It is good... Teeth hurt a tiny bit still..."

Killer nods with a frown "Probably still sensitive. We will have to look out for it..." make sure to keep his teeth healthy. Horror hadn't seen anything wrong with his teeth before and it may just be sensitive but they will have to make sure it doesn't get worse.

Killer takes his drink and sips it. Oh god it is so good! It is warm and soft and sweet and holy shit they but a full scoop of ice cream in there?! Amazing.

Killer purrs loudly as he drinks his drink. Loud enough to cause Nightmare to snort and look at him amused. Killer grins back and nudges Nightmare "Eat your own ice cream. this hot chocolate it mine." Most shops don't even try to make it good but this is sooooooo goooooooood!

Nightmare nods and eats his ice cream. Looking content and actually relaxed.

Killer... Killer feels warm and content. Just making sure the other is okay.

He for now is just going to ignore these changes and thoughts. They don't matter too much in the grand scheme of things. Nothing changes after all. Just that he may actually get why Dust wants to look after Nightmare so much.

Well! Guess Dusty is going to have to learn how to share!

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[ghosts-to-reid]

Red Herrings

~SPENCER REID REQUESTS OPEN~

Request: Heyyy, so I don’t know if you even like Taylor Swift, but I NEED a smutty Spencer fic inspired by Guilty as Sin x So Highschool…I‘m talking build up and idk after a case the team all go to Rossi‘s house and the next thing they know is they‘re drunkenly playing spin the bottle…maybe Spence getting jealous or something? And once reader spins again and it lands on him he can’t hold back anymore, so they make the best of the time they have going at it like horny teenagers. She‘s been waiting for that since she first met him. Imagining how it would feel to finally touch him. @mariechristine00

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, Unprotected sex, dom!spencer, sub!reader, kinda emily x reader??? not really, spin the bottle, Fingering, teasing, jealousy, orgasm denial, creampie, rough sex, cockwarming

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I have had very bad writers block, i hope this is ok!

Four women had died before the team had arrived in Arkansas. All of them had been sex workers, murdered in the same fashion as Jack The Ripper's victims. It wasn’t uncommon for serial killers to replicate Jack the Ripper, but this Unsub had paid incredibly close attention to the habits of the original Jack, which should’ve made him easy to find, right? Predict his next move based on the timeline of the original crimes. Except- This unsub had adapted Jack the Rippers techniques to the modern day, even sending red herrings, making him harder to catch. After 8 days though, the team had finally done just that, leaving everyone to finally feel the full effect of exhaustion.

The jet journey back had been fairly quiet, you and Spencer had fallen asleep on the couch together, your head leaning against his shoulder, his head resting on top of yours. The team had shared a look after spotting the pair of you in such a position. 

They had noticed shared glances between you both, how Reid would always bring you cups of coffee, how you’d bring enough lunch for two- knowing he wouldn’t eat if you didn’t. They’d heard all about your weekend hangouts, nights at the movies, dinners at each of your apartments. More often than not, you’d find both of you at one of your apartments, having stayed too late from a movie marathon, or even simply just wanting to stay  in each other's company.

Any outsider who saw you both would think you were together, but you weren’t. Not like it want something either of you wanted, no it was quite the opposite. There were definite feelings between you both, and neither of you denied it. Both of you were just afraid to ruin what you had, so instead of facing them, you both lived in willful ignorance. Something the team were becoming exceedingly frustrated to watch, but neither of you would take their advice either. Leaving them stewing in frustration as the pair of you willfully ignored your feelings.

So, seeing you both sleeping on one another? Not as exciting as it used to be, but still made them happy to see.

Rossi is the one who woke the two of you up after the jet had landed. The rest of the team were gathering their things as the two of you stirred, sitting up straight at the sight of the older man before you, making him chuckle.

“Just wanted to let the pair of you know that we're having a dinner party at my house tomorrow night. 6pm Sharp, okay?” Spencer glanced over to you, whilst you rubbed your eyes, sleepily muttering an agreement. Following your lead, he smiled at Rossi, accepting the invitation on his own behalf. 

Spencer helped you gather your things before guiding you out to his car, you often carpooled together and when you were at work the day of the case was no exception. You were still half asleep as he sat you down in the passenger seat of his beat up car, before sitting himself in the driver's seat.

“Can I stay at your house tonight, please?” You quietly asked, head leaning on the window, gazing at him through half lidded eyes “I feel bad for you driving all the way to my house, and doubling back to your apartment.”

The man driving smiled and muttered a small ‘Of course’, keeping his eyes on the nearly empty road. This wasn’t uncommon, ever since a mix up with hotel rooms a few months back, sleepovers had been added to your roster of ‘totally platonic’ activities you did together. Cuddling, sharing space, even beds, was now normal for you two. The rest of the team, if privy to this information, would point out how this was a manifestation of your feelings for each other; pushing the boundaries between friendship and romance, to try and fulfil your longing for each other subconsciously. Damn profilers.

The fact that this aspect of your relationship was secret from the team was also further proof that you both understood the implications. But you were just friends, right?

The car journey was quiet and quick, Spencer passed your go bag to you, mirroring you when he slung his own over his shoulder before grabbing your hand and leading you inside of his building.

Once inside, the pair of you set about your bedtime routines, changing in the same room, backs to each other. Brushing your teeth together, and slowly sliding into the warmth of Spencer’s Dark green covers. Small good nights are bid as Spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, leg habitually landing over your him, effectively caging you as close to his chest as he could.  Though, you were no different, lacing your arms around his middle, crossing your leg over his, if you could get any closer you could. It was just natural to the pair of you, being as close as possible to one another just made you both feel better, but you both would never mention that to anyone. 

After a few minutes, when Spencer is sure you have fallen asleep, he places a small kiss to the crown of your head. Gently stroking the back of your head till he soon follows suit.

The next day, the two of you wake up entangled in each other's arms still. The mid morning light streamed through the curtains, gently rousing you both from your slumber.

Spencer lazily rubbed his fingers along your arm, up and down, until you finally roused fully. Sleepily smiling up at him, you hum as you bring your hand to meet his, intertwining your fingers together. Nudging yourself closer into his chest, he lets out a small chuckle.

“Morning, sleepy head.” He smiled as he squeezed your hand, he could hear a muffled “g'morning’” from you. Slowly, and hesitantly, he pulls his hand from yours, moving your head from his shoulder so he can look at you. He loved how you looked when you just woke up. Lips in a pout, eyes still half lidded, a slightly confused look on your face; he thought it was the cutest thing. As your eyes met his, his smile grew at the sight of your slightly messy hair. The hand holding your face slowly smoothes it down as he speaks.

“Do you want to shower and I'll go make breakfast?” He asked quietly, you nodded, still half asleep. Neither of you wanted to move yet, content in each other's arms. If you were lovers, it would be acceptable to say ‘no, I want to stay in bed with you’- But you are only best friends, nothing more. The realisation dawns on you both simultaneously as you both finally break from each other's hold. Though now feeling empty, you both move to perform your respective routines for the morning. It was around three that afternoon that you finally left Spencer’s house. After breakfast, the two of you had settled on his couch watching TV all morning, until you realised that you should probably go home to get ready for Rossi’s party tonight, Spencer offered to come to your house instead and sit with you as you got ready. He showered quickly, grabbing a change of clothes, before driving you both to your apartment around four.

Sitting with you was exactly what he did as you got ready, he sat in your room reading through your bookshelf as he waited, occasionally watching you as you put on your makeup and did your hair. When you were ready, he had changed as well, the pair of you dressed smart  but not too fancy. Your idea, of course.

“I’m sorry but there is no way I was going to a Rossi party in a tight dress,  I want to comfortably eat as much pasta as I want without feeling like I can’t move” Was what you had said.He laughed, and you both climbed into your car. You had worn a long summer dress, it flowed loosely around your frame, landing just below your knees. The dress was a a darker lilac, with dark purple flowers haphazardly splashed around the fabric. He had picked it for you when you had asked him to choose between two, unsure which you wanted to wear. Obviously, he chose his favourite colour. The thin straps accentuated the curve of your shoulders, he found his gaze landing on your neck for a moment too long before he reminded himself that you were just friends.

Pulling up to Rossi’s house, you parked the car. As you learnt into the back seat to grab your purse, he quickly hopped out of the car to open your door for you. He took your hand, closing the car door with the other. You smile at how much of a gentleman he is, intertwining your fingers with his before he has a chance to pull away. Hands staying intertwined the entirety of the walk into Rossi’s living room, breaking only to greet the rest of the team.

As the night flowed on, so did the wine. Dinner had been eaten, Spencer was amused at your gleeful motions as you reached for seconds, having your fill without worry. The team imbibed hard, bottles of Rossi’s expensive wine collection had been emptied before he had shooed the team away. Penelope, always the party animal, invited the team to continue the party at her place. Hotch was the only one who refused, wanting to get home to Jack. JJ and Will had agreed without hesitation, JJ’s mother being in town they had the whole night off, Emily followed suit of JJ, Derek agreeing without hesitation of course. The team glanced at you, Spencer and yourself sharing a look, silently communicating before you both agreed. Ordering a taxi to Penelope's house, you all piled into the minibus they sent. 

One quick trip to the 24/7 liquor store around the corner, the team minus Rossi and Hoth were gathered in Penelope’s living room. Spencer sat behind you on the sofa whilst you sat on the floor, between his legs. The team were thoroughly drunk now, enjoying their time off as best they could. Derek, ever the party animal, finished his beer with a loud ‘Ahhh’, grabbing everyone's attention. He held the now empty bottle into the air with a triumphant grin.

“Do you know what time it is, ladies and gentleman?” He smirked, an evil glint in his eye as he scanned the room. Confusion painting the faces of everyone around you. “Spin the bottle!” He laughed, moving to sit on the floor in line with you. Penelope squealed in glee, clapping her hands as she moved from her position to sit across from Derek. JJ shrugged to Will, who chuckled and joined the rest of the team on the carpet. Emily sat beside you soon after, and Spencer, albeit reluctantly, slinked from his place on the sofa behind you to sit. Once the team had gathered, Derek explained the rules as he moved the bottle into the middle of the newly formed circle.

“Ok, we’ve all played before. You spin, and whoever it lands on you give them a big old kiss” He paused to wiggle his eyebrows at Penelope, who giggled at him “If it lands on yourself, spin again”

The man looked around, seeing the team ready, before starting the game. He gave the bottle a quick spin, and leant back as he watched the bottle spin. After a few moments, the bottle lands on JJ, who he respectfully pecs quickly on the corner of the mouth, like she was his grandmother, Obviously slightly disappointed to land on the one married woman in the circle. 

“My turn?” JJ asked with a small slur,  she held a glass of white wine in her hand carefully, leaning to spin the bottle. Landing on Emily, There is a small pause between them before they share a longer peck, Emily quickly moving on.

“Please, God, do not make me kiss Reid.” She joked, making the team laugh as she spun the bottle. Whilst the team watched the bottle spin, You nudged Spencer’s shoulder comfortingly. You knew Emily wasn't being mean, and so did he.

The bottle did, however, land on you. Raising your eyebrows in surprise, Emily clapped her hands

“That was close!” She laughed, JJ smirking and shaking her head amused. Penelope sighed 

“I want a go” She pouted “I want a chance to kiss the one and only Derek Morgan.” She complained loudly. Everyone laughed at her fake tantrum, before Emily quickly moved in before you, softly grabbing the sides of your face, and bringing you in for a big closed mouthed kiss. It took you by surprise, and after a few seconds she pulled away, patting you on the shoulder.

“You’re welcome.” She deadpanned, making the rest of the team laugh once more. Still taken aback, you didn’t notice how Spencer had tensed up beside you after he saw your bewilderment from Emily’s short kiss. He watched silently as you leant forward to take your turn, eyes shooting up in surprise when he realised the bottle had landed on him. 

A chorus of ‘OOO’s’ rang through the living room, Red painted both his face and yours as you turned to each other. He blinked slowly at you and, after a second, the wine he had been drinking flushed him with confidence, he softly grabbed the side of your face, kissing you deeply, tongue running lightly over your bottom lip before he pulled away.

 Another chorus of cheers were heard from around you, the team celebrating seeing one of you finally make a move. Spencer smirked as he pulled away, seeing your shocked face from Emily’s kiss change. You were staring at him, pupils blown and  doe eyed, panting lightly through parted lips, cheeks flushed. He didn’t have a moment to enjoy it, as a knock ripped through Penelope’s apartment. She jumped quickly, answering to find her elderly neighbour, complaining about the noise. 

That was your cue to go. Spencer called a taxi for you both, you had already planned for him to stay the night. Both of you had shared a few bottles of wine between Rossi’s and Penelope’s, but that kiss seemed to have sober the two of you up. The taxi ride wasn’t awkward, more so quiet. Neither of you knew what to say after the kiss, just sharing the occasional joke about the night. 

Walking up to your house, you opened the door silently. After you both take your shoes off, he takes your hand once more, leading you to your bedroom- Once more setting off into your night time routine. Once you are changed, you sit on the edge of your bed, busying yourself by putting on hand lotion, you hardly register that Spencer has finished in the bathroom until you feel the bed dip behind you. Without thinking much of it, you continue slowly rubbing your hands together when you feel Spencers hands grab your hips. A jolt of electricity shot up your spine before Spencer’s lips connected to your neck. 

The surprise caused you to let out a gasp, your hand shooting up to hold his curls.

“S-Spencer?” You gasped the question as his grip tightened, continuing to kiss and nip at your exposed neck. It felt amazing, his lips against your skin, tender yet hungry. His desperation for you translated through every touch of his lips to flesh. Eventually, his lips assault reached your jawline, You heard him moan as you lightly tugged at his hair, an involuntary action after he lightly nipped at your earlobe, eliciting a low gasp of pleasure from you. One of his hands let your hip go, moving your head to face him. He stared at you with such hunger, such adoration, his eyes were full of so much love, but painted with a dark lust. His eyes flickered between your eyes and lips, he was just inches away. Both of you panted as you looked at one another, Spencer leaned in first, crashing his lips to yours. He kissed you with such fervour, it caught you off guard. Eventually, you melted into his kiss, moving from his grip to face him head on. His arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Snaking your arms around his neck, he sighed into the kiss. After a moment he pulls away and begins to plaster kisses all over your face

“I don't…” he kisses your forehead “want you” he kisses your cheek “ Kissing anyone”  He kisses your nose “But me.” He locks eyes with you for an intense moment before placing another kiss to your lips. 

When he pulls away, he's still got one hand on your hip. You are both out of breath after his massacre of kisses. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He meets your eyes, searching for any regret of what you just did. He finds none, but he needs to hear you tell him. He watches as you bite your swollen lip, he stops himself from letting out a small groan at the sight of you like this. Your face is flushed, hair messy, giving him that wide doe eyed look once more. He can’t help the rush of heat that travels through him at the sight of you, shifting himself in hopes you do not notice. 

“Don’t stop…” You spoke quietly, and before you knew it, Spencer had you pinned on your back to the bed. His mouth was on yours, a feverish pace as he kissed you, hands now exploring every inch of you he could. He slotted himself between your legs as you opened them, wanting him closer. You had become a moaning mess at this point, muffled only by his lips on yours. He explored your mouth with his tongue, hand dipping to the hemline of your pyjama shorts. His fingers played with them for a moment before you pulled them down, along with your underwear. Spencer smirked at your action, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“You’re so eager…” He purrs,  eyes moving slowly down to see you, his words suddenly make you self conscious. Making a move to close your legs the best you could with him between them, he quickly stopped you, prying your knees wide. He lets out a low moan as he looks down at the state of you, already wet for him. The way he looks at you makes you squirm, never had you seen someone so excited to see you, all of you. The look in his eyes was dark as one of his hands grazed slowly down your thigh. His eyes move to meet yours in question as his fingers inched closer and closer to your throbbing core. Nodding feverishly, he smirked once more.

“Use your words. Tell me what you want.” His voice was harsher than the Spencer you knew, his tone was authoritative, nothing like the timid man you knew.

“I want you, Spencer.” Was all you could whisper out, overwhelmed by how he was making you feel. Without any further hesitation, his lips caught yours in another fervent kiss. One hand held your cheek, whilst the other was making its way down between your legs. 

Smirking at you squirm under him, his hand finally reaches its destination. Long fingers begin to explore your folds, occasionally bumping your clit as he gathers your slik. From his position over you, you can see how much he's enjoying this. How he knows he has power over you, the look on his face says it all. He’s almost observing you, brows furrowed as his eyes are glued to your face. He smirks at every pleasured moan, every twisted expression as you grind against his palm involuntarily. 

“You like that?” He asks you, smugly. A long finger now teasing your entrance, you can’t help but whine in response. He lets a low chuckle out, finger dipping into you, only slightly. His grin widens when he hears the strangled moan, disrupted by disappointment. 

“More…” You gasp, he has sat up straight now, one hand still teasing your entrance, whilst the other moves to hold down your hips.

“You want more? I’ll give you more.” He bites his bottom lip as he pushes his finger knuckle deep, he doesn’t let you adjust as he begins to fuck you steadily. Absent-mindedly, you grind down once more, only to be stopped by Spencer’s grip. “No, not yet, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He cooed, sounding entirely unsympathetic as he slid another finger in.

This was a side of Spencer that you’d never thought to exist. The look in his eyes, the way he moved, the way he spoke to you- It was primal. The sweet, innocent nerdy bookworm was currently ruthlessly finger fucking you. You never thought a day like this would happen, but with the way he was making you feel, it was almost electric. 

As he continued, he brought his other hand down to your clit, massaging small circles into the sensitive nub. Gasping his name, you can’t help but grind your hips against his hand, seeking any kind of relief you could.

“I-I’m so close-” You manage to choke out “Im gonna cum-” 

Spencer quickly removed his fingers from their place inside of you, causing you to let out a frustrated cry “No! Sp-encer… WHy” You pant, it was embarrassing how needy your best friend had managed to make you. As you slowly managed to recollect yourself, you managed to meet his gaze. A smirk was still present as he brought his fingers to his mouth, popping them into his mouth. Biting back a whimper, you watch him suck your slick clean from his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn't help but watch him, lips a part, eyes doe like, a dumbfounded expression that he loved. The same expression you gave him after he kissed you. Letting out a low groan, he began to remove his sweatpants, keeping his eyes trained to yours as you watched him release himself. 

He made quick work of aligning himself with your aching entrance, looking up to give you one last mischievous smirk before leaning in to whisper to your ear

“When I do this, you're gonna promise to be just mine?” His breath is hot against your skin, you eagerly agree. HHe stays leaning over you as he slides in, slowly. A  groan is muffled in your shoulder as he bottoms out, staying still for a moment. You can't help but dig your nails into his back, the way he felt filling you up was just too good.

Without warning, Spencer began to move, sluggish at first, but he quickly began to gain speed. A loud moan escaped you as he sped up, lewd sounds filling the room as he began to fuck you relentlessly. 

“Spencer!” YOu cry, he leans up, pulling you down the bed by your hips, he pulls your legs around his shoulders as he finds a new purchase. The new position makes him hit your core in a way you’ve never experienced. “Dont stop”

He doesn't reply,distracted by the feeling of your pussy around him. A tight knot began to wind in your stomach, once more threatening to snap.

“I'm gonna cum, please can i cum?” You begged through tears of pleasure. Spencer let out a malicious laugh, loving the mess you had  become. He didn’t reply, simply speeding up his hips, answering your question. All you could do was grab the bedsheets as he brought you to your climax, a loud groan filling the space as he continued to fuck you, cooing praises as he rides you through it. 

As your orgasm winds down, you feel his hips begin to stutter irregularly. He grunts with effort, hair sweatily covering his face. “Where can i cum, baby?” He gasps, hips tense as he tries to hold on. Involuntarily, the sight of him now struggling turned you on, making you clench around him. A loud gasp interrupts him “Fuck, let me cum inside, please?” He begs

“Yes!” You moan, without a second thought, you felt the man release, filling you up completely. He lets a loud strangled groan as he bottoms himself out once more, collapsing on top of your body.

There is a moment of silence as you both lie there. It seems to dawn on you that you have just been fucked by your bestfriend, making you panic momentarily. The panic subsides when you notice the tickle of his fingers on your bare side, tracing small patterns as he nuzzles closer into your neck. Bringing a hand up to play with his hair, you let yourself melt into his touch. His weight on top of you was a comfort, his warmth radiated from his skin to yours, and all you could do was feel safe. 

After a moment, your clarity comes back. Curiosity takes over, you weren’t complaining about what had happened between you both, in fact, you wanted this for years. But why now?

“Baby?” You hum out, testing the waters of your new predicament. Though, it seems silly to be hesitant in a pet name when he was still currently inside of you. His head perks up nonetheless, the usual sweet and smiley Spencer seemingly coming  back as he gives you a soft smil;e at the nickname.

“Yes, baby?” He hummed back, a dopey smile on his face as he emphasised the pet name, Making your heart flutter.

“Not that i'm complaining about this… but what brought this on?” You asked, quaking a brow in question. A blush creeps across Spencer’s face, shifting slightly in his place on top of you. 

“I… Well. I was jealous…” He mutters, now exceedingly shy compared to the side of him he has just shown you. The surprise made your brows shoot up, giving him a questioning look, spurring him to continue “When Emily kissed you… I just got jealous, the look on your face… I’d never seen it before. I didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, but after your turn…” He trailed off, eyes trailing your naked body underneath him. The sight of you seemed to re awaken his dominant side as he caught sight of where you were both still connected. He lets a huff of a laugh out as he drags his hips out slowly, before slamming himself back into you, happy at the moan he managed to take from you. That cocky grin found his lips once more as he continued his motions, slowly dragging his hips out and slamming himself back in, all the way to the base.

He didn’t need to say anything else, as soon you were both too preoccupied in the feeling of one another once more.

When the two of you return to the office together on Monday, Hand in hand, Spencer still in the same suit the team had seen him in Friday, the team all but threw a parade. Derek dejectedly passed Emily a twenty as they watched the man, not so secretly, kiss you in the kitchenette.

[quin-ns]

Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I���m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

[fushipurro]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter 3 - Malevolent Desire

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, cowboy!au, darker themes, yandereish!sukuna, sukuna is bad at feelings, brief mention of an implied kidnapping/murders, brat taming, orgasm denial, vaginal/nipple foreplay, cunnilingus, creampie, sukuna calls you a slut (affectionate), biting/small blood mentions

☆ Word Count: 5.9k

Never in your life did you think one town could look as good as it does right now. It’s like a desert mirage that calls your name, urging you closer with the promise of rest.

After reclaiming your fateful bay mare, the trip home felt greater in lengths, heightened by the midday rays of the hot sun down the back of your neck. Now, the city of Valentine sits ahead of you, basked in rich golden hues.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the levels of exhaustion you face now. It pulls on your mind, body, and soul alike ─ demanding everything you’re able to give.

Upon your return with the empty-handed lawmen, Satoru offers a not-so-subtle notion that if you’re sore or injured after any “strenuous activities” to stop in at the neighboring doctor’s office for some care.

You decide to take him up on it, hoping to find some sort of reprieve, at least from the warm sensations where clothes couldn’t protect you from the harsh touch of sunlight. There, you find a woman by the name of Shoko Ieiri ─ an old friend of the two you had spent your day with, and the resident physician.

She proves especially helpful in restocking whatever medical supplies you needed, and even more understanding with any matters relating to ones with Satoru’s involvement. In fact, all you had to do was mention his name and referral, and it was as though you gave her the key to a closet full of tonics dedicated in his name.

During your time shopping, a man clad in dark jeans, a purple button up, and a black vest steps into the office. Just like you, he’s here to restock, claiming to be on the hunt of a local predator who recently claimed another victim.

Turns out, the man you had a shootout with went missing sometime late last night, leaving behind a trail of blood that didn’t go far. The modus operandi matches that of the killer he and his partner are after. Whether they’re alive still or not is unknown, but it won’t be long before a decaying body surfaces with a cryptic message to follow.

You’ve always been intrigued with bounty hunters, at times becoming one yourself to make a few extra bucks if need be. It was something your father had done on the side to put food on the table considering how picky businesses can get with new hires.

In your discussion with Shoko and the man called Choso, you made a mention to your little adventure with Satoru and what all your poor Valentine has been through. Surprisingly, Choso claims to have some veterinary knowledge, offering to look her over for any potential injuries, free of charge.

You accept of course, her health is of the upmost importance to you. Even if you don’t believe Suguru would have purposely harmed her, you can’t say the same for his crew. That, and how she was in the middle of an ongoing robbery. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

Choso not only ensures that Valentine’s in tip top form, but also checks over Clementine. You appreciate it, knowing how much you’d hate yourself if something were to happen before she’s reunited with Kento.

The two of you are joined by his partner, Yuki, who had been resupplying at the weapon’s shop across the street. She reminds you a lot of yourself, perhaps even cut from the same cloth. It’s always a pleasure to meet another woman on the frontier that can hold her own, and you hope to run into her again someday ─ maybe while hunting a bounty to compare skills.

In the meantime, she can’t help but swoon over the two mares in your care, even showing off her own that she raised from a filly ─ a silver turkoman dubbed Garuda. Choso’s steed on the other hand is a leopard appaloosa gelding by the name of Nova.

When everything’s said and done and the hunters take their leave, dusk has settled over Valentine with a thick blanket of stars. All that’s left for you to do now is to get your meat and you can be on your way for some food and rest.

…so long as the butcher’s stall is actually open, which in this case ─ it’s not.

Tough luck.

So much for getting your dinner now, guess you’ll be going to bed hungry. You opt to head for the hotel, which only serves to sour your mood further as the clerk tells you your stay is up and there’s no other rooms left to rent out. At the very least, you’re still able to pay for a bath to wash off the various dirt, grime, and other slick stuck to your body.

Now you could head off into the nearby prairie, or down by the Dakota River to camp, but as highlighted earlier, you’re exhausted. With two horses under your care and all your worldly possessions, you need to be extra careful what you do and where you go as a woman in this wild age.

Luckily, there’s a dozen barns to choose from in town, and even more available stalls to sneak into. At this point, straw poking your back is the least of your problems if it means getting a night of rest.

You lead the two mares over to an empty corral behind one such stable, freeing them from their tack and hiding the evidence under a pile of alfalfa bales. Save for the saloon, the rest of town has quieted down as others have now retreated to their homes and families.

That used to be you once when you were younger, now here you are sneaking inside a barn to get some shuteye. Oh, how your father would be so proud.

There’s just one problem.

You’re not alone.

As soon as you enter through the barn doors, you’re met with a few lit lanterns and a huge horse on the crossties. We’re talking the definition of a war horse here, with a blood bay coat to match. Their feathering is light, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find out there’s some warmblood mixed in with some draft breed. At the sound of their deep, echoing neigh, a head pops up from between their hindquarters.

“Who the fuck ─ ahh, it’s you,” the voice remarks, and it’s one you remember quite well.

The Butcher.

“Come to finally collect what’s yours?” he asks, a tinge of playful annoyance lacing in his words.

You approach the man, narrowing your eyes. He spares you his own sharp look before resuming his work clipping the giant’s hoof.

“Since when does Valentine’s butcher do farrier work?” you question, admiring the look of dark chaps around his beefy legs. It pairs nicely with his black pants and the red shirt he has on.

He snorts, “I do a lot of different work ‘round here, sweetheart.” His nickname falls short when paired with sarcasm. “Whatever pays the bills while I’m here, and besides, this is my own mare so it’s not like I’m being paid.”

“Leave it to a bloodied man to ride a red mare,” you mutter under your tongue, hearing him huff anyways. “Can’t lie though, she’s a beauty.” You reach out to pet the girl, only to retract your hand the second her ears pin backwards and she about bites your hand off.

“That she is,” he chuckles lowly, uncaring to what almost occurred, “Calamity here is loyal and obedient, just how I like it.”

You scowl in response, ultimately realizing any interactions with this man require a level of caution to be taken. He’s not to be trifled with.

Then again, Daddy didn’t raise no coward.

“You sure you’re not compensating for something?”

Not that he needs to. Appearance wise, he’s very attractive, even if he waves enough red flags at you to be called a matador. You are a stubborn bull at times, so it may be a fair tradeoff. Being tired and hungry don’t mix well for any wicked cowgirl.

“Please,” the butcher scoffs. “I have no reason to need to. Why, you interested in taking me on?” He throws a smirk at you from over his shoulder, grabbing a large file in the process to shave down the mare’s hoof.

You roll your eyes, leaning up against a wooden post to admire his workmanship. “Please,” you mock, “I think you’re exactly the type of man my father would tell me to put a bullet into and call it a day.”

“If you think my ‘services’ are inadequate, then you’re more than welcome to,” he retorts, finishing up the hoof with a beautifully crafted horseshoe nailed perfectly on. He stands up after, dusting off his hands and turning to you in full. He certainly has a height advantage on you amongst other things.

You don’t back down, not even when you’re at the disadvantage. “We’re still talking about work, right? ‘Cause you have something of mine.”

The butcher steps forward into your space, like a predator stalking its prey into a corner, only you don’t move. “Is that really why you came creeping in here? Or maybe you’ve been following me,” he muses with sultry words.

“I’m not here for you, your highness.” Those choice words deepen his annoying grin. “But since you are here, then I’d like to get my meat and go. I’ve had quite a long day.”

His eyes darken as a thought crosses his mind. “I think I can help with that… if you’ll give in to me,” he says, moving one hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. You slap him away, earning a click of his tongue, “Don’t be a tease.”

You ignore his accusation. “What exactly are you offering here?”

“Instead of sleeping in a stall full of shit…” he pauses, letting his words register that yes ─ he knew exactly why you were here to begin with. He’s as smart as he is cocky, that’s for sure. Not a bad combination, but only if you can back it up. “…why don’t you come back home with me, and I’ll treat you to some care?”

A tempting offer, but full of risk.

“And how am I supposed to believe you aren’t planning on robbing or gutting me the moment we’re alone?”

He laughs again, only this time it resembles some cackling coyote in the dead of night. “Guess you’ll just have to be good and trust me.”

“Howreassuring of you,” you reply sarcastically.

“It’s up to you, brat.” He shrugs nonchalantly, picking up his heavy western saddle. “Whether you want it or not, make your choice now or forever hold your peace.”

You keep a horse-length behind the man, Sukuna, atop your mare; your eyes are glued to the back of his head with one hand close to your iron if the situation warrants the need. The environment around you both is eerily calm ─ as if nature knows something about a potential threat that you don’t.

Perhaps your foremost thought about him being a serial killer on the side wasn’t too far off.

It doesn’t help your nerves either or his case for that matter when his home happens to be a cabin in the woods. There’s a set of storm doors that immediately catch your eyes upon arrival. They’re tightly bound and sealed with the use of heavy chains but at this point, would it really surprise you if there’s something down there he doesn’t want others to see?

Rationally, it could just be where he stores excess meats and other parts of his work, and that the chains are only there to keep predators out. He is a butcher after all, that would be the safest option.

…Unless of course the seal exists to prevent anything from escaping.

You decide to push those thoughts away for now. You’ve wrestled with bears numerous times after all; if Sukuna decides to betray the trust you’re giving him, then you won’t be going down easily.

Sukuna rides up to the pasture gate, hitching Calamity up to a post to untack her. You join him near his side with both Valentine and Clementine to do the same. Hopefully his mare’s temperament doesn’t affect either of your girls in the field after Choso gave them the okay. Explaining any new injuries to Kento would not be easy after he’s already gone out on a limb for you.

You’re then led up into his cabin, where the interior is surprisingly clean. For a butcher, he seems careful enough about it, as nothing you see has a speck of blood staining it.

“Take a seat,” he practically demands, pulling out one of his dining chairs for you on his way into the kitchen. You oblige, choosing not to comment on his tone.

You watch him from afar as he cooks, to which it appears to be yet another skill he excels in. His precision with a knife also tells you that in the event of any fights to the death, you’re gonna need a gun to win. He spares you a few glances here and there, but otherwise his focus is kept solely on the stovetop until he’s walking back into the room with dishes in hand.

You can honestly say that Sukuna’s cooking is one of, if not, the best you’ve had the privilege to eat. He’s prepared a selection of different meats paired with fresh vegetables and is eager for you to try everything he’s whipped up.

Conversation is kept to a minimum, not that you can complain. His earlier attitude seems to have softened after a good meal, yet the tension still hasn’t let up. After dinner, you offer to help clean up as thanks, but he shuts you down, even taking your plate straight from your hands.

There’s a look of mischief that plays across his crimson eyes as you’re turning back to the table. Now there’s one thing to always be cautious of when sharing company with a predator, and that’s to never turn your back on one.

A full belly must’ve dulled your senses, subsequently lowering your guard to forget that rule. Your mistake comes with a consequence, or maybe a blessing ─ Sukuna now caging you between himself and the dinner table.

His voice, deep and velvety, murmurs in your ear, “Ready to discuss payment?”

It makes your body shiver, and you hope it wasn’t too obvious. He chuckles, so you know that was a bust. Good thing you’ve still got some sass in you.

“You’re telling me you didn’t do this out of the kindness of your heart?” you tease with the man.

“Fuck no.” Sukuna inhales your scent, making your eyes flutter shut. “I’m not about to let some other maggot get in my way,” he says, brushing the hair off the side of your neck, revealing splotches of red and purple bruising. “This time…you’re mine.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you tell him, but your efforts to remain in control are in vain.

Sukuna starts to pepper kisses across every discoloration his eyes can find, his other hand now pulling you closer to his body.

He’s hard, and nor was he lying either when he said he has nothing to compensate for.

With one hand placed inches above your needy core, he encourages you to grind against his own. It’s an action so specific, you can’t help but wonder if there’s some hidden meaning to it. Either way, Sukuna knows right where to get you along your neck until you’re weak in the knees and grasping the edge of the table for stability.

“What’s the matter?” he asks between kisses. “No more bratty comments?” You can feel his lips hovering over your carotid artery, smiling against the flesh as your heartbeat quickens in response.

“Fuck you,” you spit in a low volume, your grip on the table growing stronger as Sukuna’s hand moves fast to cup your sex.

“There’s plenty of time for that,” he muses. “I intend to enjoy every minute of this.” He lifts his hand upwards, pulling you off your feet for a hot second causing a gasp to leave your mouth. He then lets go of your body, backing away a few steps.

“Strip,” he commands, and you find yourself throwing caution to the wind. As you start to unbutton your shirt, he stops you, “Aht aht, turn around.” He motions with his finger almost impatiently so.

You roll your eyes before doing so, continuing where you left off. “Better, my lord?”

“That’s it,” he drawls, ignoring your snarky tone in favor of the new title of worship. “You’ll do well to listen and take orders.”

“You know, maybe I should put a bullet in you if you think I’m gonna sit back and become one of your pets. Better yet, I could always just cut your dick right off or maybe gelding would be more fun,” you warn him with an amused smile.

“Your words only arouse me, brat.” He stalks closer, baring his canines towards you with a similar, more salacious grin. “Stick around long enough with me and I’ll show you the best way how to do all of those things.”

Unlike you, you don’t believe he’s joking.

Sukuna takes a moment to admire your body, feeling his own cock strain in his pants. He leans his head down, taking you by your mouth in a ravenous embrace. He roughly bites your bottom lip, making you gasp yet again. Sukuna uses this chance to slip his tongue past your teeth, savoring the metallic flavor all while a free hand slips between your thighs.

He spreads you open, prodding his middle finger against your opening. “My… so wet already? I’ve hardly touched you.”

For how much you hate him for his arrogance, he certainly knows how to make a gal feel oh so aroused. You’re enjoying this more than you had expected to.

Without warning, he thrusts his finger upwards, lifting your body to rest atop the dining table. “Fuck!” you shriek, the pain turning to pleasure when his thumb coos your throbbing clit. With deft motions, he pumps his finger in and out.

Sukuna laughs in an almost sadistic manner, thoroughly enjoying the reactions you’re giving him. It’s always more fun when his prey has some fire that makes his efforts to break them all the more satisfying. Pretty soon, you’re rolling your hips against his knuckles on your own, aiding his motions.

“Look at you, slut,” his voice, full of sin, whispers in your ear. He bites the sides of your neck overtop the pre-existing marks, thus overriding the claims. “So desperate. You want to cum, don’t you? I can feel it.”

You nod your head, unable to hold back your noises as you grow closer to that sweet release. His touch is like wildfire against your body, igniting you with otherworldly passion.

“I wonder, what would happen if I were to deny you?” His grin widens and he retracts his hand from your body.

“Asshole!” you hiss breathlessly, groaning from the loss.

Sukuna loves how easy it is to push your buttons. Each action serving to intoxicate you under his full control. If one simple finger of his could do all of this for you, then he can’t waitto impale you with his cock.

“Such a bad girl,” he purrs against your ear once again. Both of Sukuna’s hands hold you at the hip while he rubs his clothed self against you. “Tell me you’re mine and I’ll please you over and over again until all you can think about is me.”

“I’m starting to think it was love at first sight with you,” you chuckle through a moan, “Can’t ask a girl out like a normal person?” That remark earns you another reprimand as he suddenly pushes himself hard against you, forcing you back onto your forearms.

“Last I checked, I already made you dinner and offered you my home. If you’re having second thoughts then I’ll gladly let you go,” he states, but you can tell that’s a lie.

Sukuna would much rather you stay and give in to his desires. The offer is quite tempting to, as with any deal with a devil. It proves even harder to deny the effects Sukuna has on you, your stomach endlessly performing flips with emotions.

His whole domineering self is a forbidden type of decadence that draws you in, hypnotizingly so. There’s a lot you don’t know yet about him, and if one thing is obvious, it’s that the longer you stay at his side, the more you want to slip into depravity with Sukuna.

It might even help you become a better version of yourself. No longer would you be alone trying to survive in a world pitted against you.

Then again, your feisty nature is what got you here to begin with. Where’s the fun in letting that go now when you have someone that can keep up with you, with plenty to offer if he stays true to his word.

With a devious grin of your own, you tell him, “Fuck. You.” Emphasizing each word to better toy with him.

He laughs again, louder, and more boastful this time. He knew you would continue to deny yourself, punishing yourself in the process. You’re only making this easier for him to have his way.

“You won’t say it?” He stares down at you with a darkened expression, flashing those wolfish fangs again. One of his hands swoops up to cup your breast, pinching the bud as he makes you lie flat for him. “Oh, I’ll make you say it.”

In the blink of an eye, his mouth latches onto your swollen pearl, sucking with an intense force that leaves you writhing beneath him. One way or another, he’ll shatter your will. He knows it’s just a matter of time before you admit what you already know to be true.

Sukuna’s tongue swipes upwards once before pushing inside. He licks up every last drop of your arousal, feeding into his own animalistic desire to claim you.

To ruin you.

He moans at this thought, savoring your delectable taste like it’s his last meal on earth. The sweet flavoring pairs perfectly the way you cry his name out. One of your hands even holds the table in a white-knuckle grip, with the other struggling against his head. You can’t escape his touch, even if you tried. His own hands brandish your hips tight enough to bruise ─ making you in his name.

“S’kuna,” you groan, feeling your mind reaching a state where it has no choice but to unravel.

“Just say those three words,” Sukuna insists, spelling it out for you with the tip of his tongue. He’s edging you a second time now, knowing all too well how close you are. “Three words, and I’m all yours,” he urges.

“Fuck! Please, please, let me cum!” you beg the man, rocking yourself against his mouth for the needed stimulation. Sukuna clicks his tongue but doesn’t let up, sucking more vigorously now. Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head, your spine arching off the table from the force your climax hits you with. “Sukun-aah!” you cry out in pleasure.

Your mouth falls agape with a silent scream, falling limp against the wood. It takes a minute to come down off the high, but when your vision clears, you look to Sukuna whose shirt has been discarded. Now, you can clearly see his sculpted chest and all the black ink that adorns his body.

The sound of metal teeth fills your ears, and his jeans are the next to go. He doesn’t even give you a chance to see the rest of him in his full glory before you’re scooped into his arms, forced to wrap your tired legs around his waist. Contrary to his abrasive personality, he holds you with a lot of care, and you think you if this goes on, you could fall asleep just like this.

Sukuna lowers himself onto his bed, and in the process forces you into a straddling position. He briefly kisses your lips ─ another sweet act ─ and then leans back, tucking his hands behind his head.

“Ride me,” he commands. You shoot him a questioning glare in response. “What, you thought I was going to do all the work tonight?” he scoffs, “I told you already what I want to hear.”

You sigh, lips stretching into a fine line. It doesn’t seem like any amount of begging will save you from those three words he wants you to say, but are you ready to admit it?

“Come on, cowgirl.” Both his tone and expression carry a hint of mocking, albeit playful as part of his nature. “Let’s see some bareback riding… I want to watch you make yourself cum on my cock.” Sukuna pats your thigh before pulling it back behind his head.

You lift upwards, feeling a burn in your legs as you do so. Between days of being on the saddle and Sukuna marking the fourth man in your unintentional conquest of the city of Valentine, you ought to get a medal for how hard you’re working. At this rate, you may as well embrace the buckle bunny trope.

Reaching between your thighs, you take his cock in hand. The size is bigger than you imagined, even after feeling it through his denim. He’s no doubt the biggest you’ve taken thus far, and you can’t even feel the tips of your fingers around his girth.

There’s a bit of uncertainty that starts to bubble up, but as the famous saying goes ─ country girls make do.

And so, you line him up, rolling the fat mushroom tip across your slit to gather the necessary lubricant before even attempting to sit over this monster. You wince at the first stretch, your insides burning unimaginably so.

Sukuna wants to laugh. He’d love to keep teasing you but even he’s having trouble forming words in this situation. It’s hard enough resisting the urge to go all in and get it over with, but that won’t end well for him.

He wants you to trust him after all.

He wants you to be his.

After what feels like a century, you finally bottom out, hips kissing his pelvis in full with a deep, guttural moan to follow. Any slight movement on either of your parts sends shockwaves heavier than his heavyweight draft.

In this moment, Sukuna decides to play nice. His hands move from his head down to the dips of your hips, helping you through the motions with a gentle touch. It’s mostly an excuse to get you moving already, but also due to how deeply he wants to feel every bit of you.

Pretty soon he lets you take over, as he originally planned. At first, your pace is agonizingly slow, fueled from your exhausted state much to his discontent. Despite this being his way of tormenting you, it affects him equally so. Sukuna’s also punishing himself for not making his move earlier when he had the chance.

“Is that all you got? Here I thought you wanted to cum,” he teases. “You look so pretty with my cock buried in you, slut.”

The degrading term aside, his sudden compliment has you moaning a saccharine tune. Your body hunches forward, curving his length to reach greater depths you didn’t think possible.

“Oh?” Sukuna groans deeply. “Does someone enjoy being praised?”

“Y-yes, ‘Kuna.”

“Good girl,” he hisses with lustful joy, clenching his teeth together. Sukuna wasn’t prepared for the feeling you created by saying his name in such a delectable way.

He could eat you right up for that.

“My dove is doing so well,” he murmurs against your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth. “Now if only you’ll say those three words already,” he urges you once more, wishing for you to give into him.

You huff, “What haa-happened to saying please?”

“Tch.” The palm of his hand meets your ass. You gasp into a cry, clenching around his length. “Don’t be a brat after I’ve been nice and complimenting you.”

Fresh tears gloss your eyes but are quickly soothed by him rubbing circles over the forming red handprint. That hand then moves deftly over your stomach to where it had rested earlier. Sukuna pushes with his palm slightly, feeling himself deep within you.

Fuck, it feels good, but it’s not enough.

Your pace begins to slow as your body tries desperately to balance exhaustion with your building orgasm. Sukuna’s breathing turns disheveled, a sign that even he’s losing his patience ─ ready to fill you to the brim with his seed.

Nearing the precipice of your release, you finally come to terms with your inner turmoil. You’re here now, you may as well make the most of it. As downright intimidating as Sukuna can be, he just wants to please you in his twisted sort of way.

It’s not easy to admit, but in a way, he reminds you of your father ─ always pushing you past pain to grow stronger. It’s what made you into a rattlesnake in a world full of predators. Sukuna brings out that venomous side of you but also rewards you with subtle soft touches.

One might argue that your affection for Sukuna could be the result of losing your father years ago. On the other hand, this possessiveness Sukuna shows might be his own way of dealing with issues from his past. Whatever the case may be, you hope the lengths he’d go to protect what he deems his isn’t anything too maniacal in nature.

Maybe for the first time in your life, you will let go of control ─ let someone else carry your burden without always needing to put up a strong front.

“’Kuna,” you whine, leaning down in front of his face, cupping both sides of his jaw. A bead of sweat falls from a strand of your hair, disappearing in an instant from his hot flesh.

His eyes narrow in your hold, obsidian swallowing garnet. “Say it.”

And you finally do.

“I’m yours, Sukuna. All yours.”

That’s all he needed to hear for everything to snap into place. Sukuna’s arms reach around your torso, holding you tight to thrust himself into a brutal pace. His cabin now but a domain of lust, fueled by a cadence of sounds as body and souls unite as one.

“’Bout time,” he growls, the pitch of his voice noticeably lower. “I was just gonna mess with ya at first, tease you a bit ─ see how far I could back you into a corner,” Sukuna starts to reveal, his pace unrelenting. “Then I saw you showin’ off at the bar, fucking that bastard’s hand up without breaking a sweat. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my life.”

The two of you bury your faces in each other’s neck, your hands struggling to find a grip anywhere to provide relief from the mounting state of rapture. The knot in your abdomen growing tighter and tighter by the second.

“Had to watch that blond fuck get to you before I could, and then,” he growls, “you ran off with that white-haired freak of a sheriff this morning.” His arms coil around you with more force. “Don’t think I’m not aware these marks are from him.”

“’Kuna, please,” you whimper into his collar.

“That’s right, tell the world who you belong to ─ who’s ruining you,” Sukuna’s laugh mixes with deep, groaning exhales. “Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my fat cock. You better be proud of yourself for what you’re doing to me.”

You cry out his name a dozen more times as he ravishes you, no sooner reaching the plateau of an ecstasy that unravels every fiber of your being. Your only thoughts now are of the man beneath you, drunk off his cock now shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

The stimulation gets to be too much that you feel the overwhelming desire to bite down on his neck. Sukuna revels in this, spilling out every last drop he can manage until it overflows from within you and around the base of him.

You relinquish your hold on him, allowing your body to slump against his. “You’re mine now,” Sukuna declares with your name following his words. He moves one hand up and down your back, reminding you of his softer side, all before flipping your positions, still nestled within your body.

“Suku–“ You’re cut short by his lips pressing against yours in a warm embrace.

He kisses every tear down your face, and even the drool that trails the sides of your mouth before returning to your lips. Amongst everything else, you can still taste yourself on his tongue, paired perfectly with his own like seasoning on the finest of meals.

“Did you think we were done?” One hand moves to hook the backing of your knee, lifting it up to grant him better access. “I said I’d take good care of you, and all you had to do was submit your trust to me.”

You might’ve just created a monster without realizing.

“Take every bit of me now… you’ve earned it.”

You have no memory of when sleep overtook you. Sunlight peeks through the curtains now, illuminating the cabin in warm, rich tones. Your body, while sore and aching, feels renewed in all aspects ─ mind, body, and soul.

Sukuna’s arm is wrapped around your waist, with his other acting as a pillow beneath your head. Feeling you stirring, his eyes flutter open, glaring at you with his own tired expression.

“Mornin’, dove,” he greets, voice thick with sleep.

You stretch in his arms, moaning slightly as you wiggle closer for comfort and warmth. Sukuna smiles against your forehead, tightening his arms around you like he’s afraid you’ll fly away if he lets go. It’s fine for now. After all, you made your choice to give in and it’s one you don’t regret.

He may joke about “fucking the brat out of you”, but let’s face it ─ Sukuna had plenty of frustrations of his own to get out. Now, you get to experience his softer side. While Sukuna will never admit he has one, he is glad you’re here and wants to keep it that way.

After another bout of sleep, he prepares a nice, fulfilling breakfast for you. It’s quiet as the two of you eat, both knowing full well you weren’t going to be staying for another night.

The fact remains that Sukuna has some unfinished business to attend to, and you yourself must return Clementine to Kento before making any lifechanging decisions in your journey of life.

On your way out the door, Sukuna grabs your wrist, spinning you back and up against the door. His knee wedges between your legs, one hand holding your jaw up for him to claim your lips in a fervent kiss goodbye.

“Come back to me soon, dove. I’m not finished with you.” He smiles, but it lacks the malicious intent he held earlier.

You think.

“See you around, cowboy.” You tap the back of your hand to his chest when he releases you, walking off from the porch and over to the pasture. “Oh, and by the way,” you call out from over your shoulder, “I give you five stars for your excellent service.” You wink, licking your lips.

Sukuna smirks from afar, remaining by his doorstep until you’re nothing but a shadow in the distance. His eyes pan over in the direction of his cellar, eager to pass the time until your hopeful return.

…but will you?

☆ Notes: I got stuck on this for a while during my writing slump as I’ve come to realize I’m not all that big on smut writing, tbh. It’s not something I feel confident with, nor is it something I actively seek out to read.

But god, writing Sukuna was a BLAST and a nice start for me cause I have several ideas I want to do for him in the future <3 I hope you guys enjoyed how I wrote him though; I tried to balance all my favorite aspects his personality and my own little headcanons.

Also had to throw in my own choso & yuki cowboy headcanons… originally I was gonna have choso working in the office with shoko, but I ship him with yuki hard and really wanted to include them one way or another in the series. blood manip just screams doctor AUs to me, and I think he’d be an awesome vet or peds doctor!!

For all the red dead 2 players though… do you recognize what house we’re in? :3

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know, I can't stop thinking about the fact that everyone around Killer knows that he's prone to relapsing in the Color ending, and all of them have hear him wonder out loud if he misses Nightmare or not and if he'd like to go back.

So, if Nightmare forcibly takes him back they'll probably assume he went of his own free will. Would be even worse if Nightmare forces him to fabricate a letter or something of that sort to say he did. No one would question it. And it's not because they don't care or because they're happy to be rid of him, but literally because, well, they heard him talk about going back before.

And this is the first time that any of the Epic Sanses deal with a victim of abuse (and almost of a cult-like scenario, but that's a rant for another day) they don't know that this kind of talk is actually quite normal. They don't know that it's actually quite impressive that Killer, at the end of the day, never actually went back. They kinda just assume this is his choice, and he gets to make his choices

why would you say this to me. (Please say more 🙏. And especially about the cult-like elements of Nighmare’s gang.)

But yeah, this completely makes sense. I mean, from what i can tell, Epic has a history of abuse (thanks a fucking lot Epic Gaster you prick), and it’s hc by delta anon and I that Beta had a history of abuse too—but its a little different than what killer went through. nothing like being made to murder and torture, nor the same intense type of persuasive coercion that leaves killer dissociative, dependent, and attached on to any form of reality or direction or stability.

so they may understand wanting to go back. but they don’t know the full extent of what killer experienced with both Chara and nightmare, and they likely never will. neither were exactly conditioned the way killer was, nor had their codes reprogrammed.

i can’t picture color just easily accepting that letter, though. for my own sanity—especially if he and killer often had talks about killers feelings and thoughts about nightmare, and that killer was showing very clear signs of progress, despite the understandable relapses and instinctive behavior/actions.

imagine color keeps vehemently denying that killer wanted this, that he wants to see and hear it from killer himself—he wants to get a good look at him. he goes and talks to anyone he can for help—makes his case. he’ll do it himself if he has to.

and everywhere he goes, people just look at him with pity. because they think he just can’t accept it, and is in denial about it.

{ @stellocchia }

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: transmasc Character: Eustass Kid Vibe: NSFW Yandere AU: Canon Prompt: Pliant When Horny Gift Giver: @remisloves

Summary: You brushed Kid off, unintentionally, but that matters little, and now he's going to ensure you're willing to rely on him.

Content Notes: bondage, that kind of ambiguous consent that comes with yandere, fingering, light breath play, forced orgasm, edging, denial, public viewing (the 18+ crew watches the events unfold), mdni

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

No one was allowed to touch you - not even you yourself.

Your hands and ankles were tied to the main mast on the deck of the Victoria Punk. It wasn’t a punishment, not really, but Kid wanted something from you and you weren’t in the mood to give it to him. So he was going to make sure you got there. One way or another.

Aside from the rope holding you against the mast, the only other thing you wore was a custom leather collar with a little heart dangling from the front of it that said “Good Boy”. Your legs were parted enough that everyone could see your cunt, and most of the crew had taken to taking their breaks right next to you.

Being watched so casually was driving you crazy.

No one dared to break Kid’s rule, but they did talk to you. Some mentioned how cute you were, some gave you water to drink, some pointed out how wet and turned on you looked.

Killer would check in on you, letting you down from the mast to go to the bathroom and eat, watching you carefully during it all. If you wanted relief, you were going to get it from Kid.

It was all because he caught you humping a pillow, and when he offered to take care of you, you’d told him he didn’t have to. You’d just meant he didn’t need to waste his time, but Kid took it as a rejection. Honestly, you should’ve known better. It’s been a year since Kid declared you his, and while you’ve long since come to accept your situation, you’d think you would’ve learned your lessons better at this point.

When Killer tied you back to the mast after dinner, using leather cuffs to keep your wrists and ankles from chaffing, he’d put a slender, but bumpy, metal dildo into your vagina. You hadn’t realized how worked up the day had made you until you nearly came from the cold metal. Killer tied it in place with rope, warning you not to cum, if you came while he was tightening the makeshift harness he’d have to tell Kid.

Killer, at least, was merciful enough to not tease you on purpose while he worked.

Still you were panting by the time he was done.

“Please,” you sigh as he straightens up. “Please, Killer, I… I need him.” You admit, looking in the direction of the workshop.

“I’ll let him know, little one.” He promises, walking away and leaving you where you were.

The cool metal was warming up thanks to your body heat, but it was so hard and bumpy it was impossible to ignore. Killer had done you a kindness, the ropes keeping it inside weren’t run up against your clit, but the ropes themselves seemed to be trying to work you up.

By the time Kid came out onto the deck you were gasping and squirming, unable to find relief, and unable to calm yourself down. You were needy, so terribly needy, and he just stood there and watched you for a long moment before finally saying something.

“Need a hand, little mouse?” Kid asks finally and you nod your head, nearly crying.

“Yes, yes! Please! I’m… I’m sorry.” You whine as he tilts your head up with a finger. “Please, I - I just… you’re so,” you gasp your sentence cut short as the metal inside your pussy starts to move. “Important! You’re so important I didn’t want buh-bother you!”

“Mm, and what have you learned?”

“I’ll - ahhh! - I’ll come to you!” You cry, toes curling as you try desperately to not cum. “Cum for you, cum when you tell me too!”

“An if I tell you no?”

You nearly sob. “I’ll wait, I’ll wait,” you gasp the words, vision hazy as tears well up in your eyes. You’re so close, but you can’t cum yet, you know that much. “I’mma good boy, I’ll be good!”

Kid snaps the ropes keeping the metal dildo inside you, letting it fall onto the deck.

“Want me to help, little mouse?” Kid questions flatly and you nod.

“Please.”

Kid kneels down on the deck, eyes holding yours as he licks your wet slit. You moan, shifting in your bonds, the rough wood of the mast against your back. He puts his hands on your thighs, holding you still as he slowly, carefully, and tenderly licks and sucks your clit.

It’s not enough to push you over the edge, but it’s enough to make you moan and whimper, garbled pleas falling from your lips. You don’t even care that the rest of the crew is watching, or that Killer is standing nearby, cock heavy and hard in his hand as he strokes himself lazily.

Kid flicks his hand and something cuts the ropes holding your arms. Your hands disappear into his hair as you lean forward, holding onto him for balance.

“More, please, Kid,” you risk the request, voice dripping with need and he hums. You’re certain you can feel him smiling against you as his tongue gets heavier against your clit.

Two thick, hot fingers push into your cunt and you buck, your hips grinding into his face, as the orgasm nearly takes you. As close as you are, as needy and desperate as you are, there’s at least one lesson you know well enough.

“Please, please let me cum!” You cry as Kid drives you closer and closer. “Please, please, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum, please let me, please!”

Crying you try to pull him away, but even as you tug on his hair you know it’s useless. Eustass Kid is a mountain and you’re a mouse.

“Fuck, fuck, please, fuck, I can’t - I can’t!” You writhe and struggle and beg, with your legs still held to the mast you can’t squirm enough to give yourself a break.

Just as you think you’re going to disobey him, his hand’s at your throat, holding you harshly against the mast again. “Cum, mouse.” He commands, fingers plunging deep as his thumb teases your clit and his hand cuts your air supply thin.

There’s no denying the command. It’s a mercy and you know it. You clench down on his fingers, mind hazy with euphoria, relief, and lack of oxygen. He doesn’t leave you to black out, easing up and letting you pull in big heavy gasps as you sob and cry, the wet moans of your orgasm leaking from your lips as much as your sloppy cunt is dripping on the deck.

“Good boy.” Kid grins, not stopping and watching you. “Don’t let the crew down,” he grins, and you become keenly aware of everyone watching you. Touching themselves. The most dressed person was Kid. The attention sent another rush through you. “Cum again, little mouse.”

“Ah, please,” you shivered the words, you were close but you came so hard you weren’t sure what would happen. It was too much.

“Mouse.” Kid’s voice forces you to focus. The golden brown eyes have you entirely, even though you know everyone else is watching. “Cum.”

Kid curls his fingers and the second orgasm slams into you so forcefully you squirt. Pleasure cascades down Kid’s arm, splattering onto the deck as your body convulses against the mast, ropes groaning as your legs try desperately to close. Hot liquid splashes against your skin and you’re vaguely aware of Killer nearby, one hand on the mast the other working himself through his own orgasm.

Kid pulls his fingers out, pressing them into your mouth and watching as you slowly start to come back to yours senses, moaning against his digits. He grins, leaning in and licking your neck before leaving a heavy kiss against your skin.

The ropes holding your legs go slack and you sink into Kid.

“Don’t worry, little mouse,” he says, lifting you up and walking away from the deck. “After I fill you up, I’ll clean you up.”

[creepsopasta]

playing games with some pastas

includes; eyeless jack, jeff the killer, hoodie, masky, ticci toby, homicidal liu, kagekao

eyeless jack:

- bit of a sore loser. not good with games that make him rage or online games

- voice chat with him is crazy!! he is literally foaming at the mouth yelling and cursing he is so bad at games :(

- “jack it’s gonna be okay” “FUCK you”

- he is not very kind about his losses

- most likely ends up throwing the control at the tv and breaking it (bad ending)

- whenever he ends up winning he’s ecstatic he does not stop talking about it and will brag about it to you exclusively. just go with it okay he needs it for his already shattered ego

- 0/10 experience would not do again.. okay maybe he would if you talked him into it and told him how much of a great player he is

- “i AM awesome aren’t i???” “yes you are <3”

- the more you play together the more he’ll learn to calm the fuck down and just enjoy himself

- still rages a lot tho

jeff the killer:

- plays board games like candyland and twister

- he’s a fucking shark he’s got all this shit down he knows how to win

- anyone who gets paired up with him for game night is 85% guaranteed to win (unfortunately there is someone out there who’s better than him)

- gets PISSED over not winning twister fucking furious he is literally the most flexible guy in this house he can do so much with his body

- monopoly is his favorite game. he esp loves to play with the younger pastas bc they believe anything he says and he thinks it’s hilarious

- “NOOOO PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY HOUSE” “your rent is $500,000, sally… it’s my house now”

- not a very avid video game player. he never really played a lot tbh

- good at everything EXCEPT connect four. do not make him play connect four he hates it he has terrible memories of it

- mastermind strategy planner. it’s a shame he doesn’t think this much at any other time

- boasts about it big time if you lose (you will probably lose) but might even try to let you win on purpose if he feels bad or sees you’re upset

hoodie:

- more of an arcade game guy. if you’re looking for like pinball games or pacman or space invaders or maze games or those weird money machines (that he kind of just. steals from) then he’s like great at all of them

- has spent hours honing his skills in his free time so you’ll be grinding for a while if you wanna beat him

- all the highest scores on the arcade machines are his. no one has topped them bc they’re fucking insane

- “wow you really have nothing better to do huh” [takes out gun] ���that’s enough out of you jack can’t even fuckin move the joysticks around”

- tries to act like he isn’t competitive about it but he really super is

- thinks it’s just adorable that you think you can defeat him. no he will not be humbled by his lover of all people… that would make him a weak man

- goddamn merciless. no favors for anyone he revels in the rage he causes (see jack for more)

- if you’re a beginner he’ll take it easy on you until you learn the ropes and will offer tips but as time goes on he’s gonna be looking for a fight

- if he’s ever beaten, he will take it in grace and go straight from denial to acceptance

- does not rage that often. just hardcore practices until he’s like fucking unstoppable

masky:

- card player :(

- hates go fish tho he has such bad luck with it and everyone makes fun of him bc it’s like the universe does not want him to win

- good at boring ass stuff like solitaire or blackjack and if you ask him if he can play anything funner he’ll be like “oh so like rummy or spoons :]”

- no masky not like rummy or spoons… like uno or fucking play with some goddamn pokémon cards

- he’s so enthusiastic about it though so cmon just indulge him alright.. he literally has nobody else around him who’s into cards

- “okay so i win” “what… but we just started”

- he plays chess too!!! maybe you’ll find that more interesting?? he’s not very in touch with board games or anything this is the best he’s got

- deadass makes up his own rules if you don’t know anything about the game you’re playing

- “yeah so now you have to eat a rat. sorry babe”

- is never going to make fun of you if you suck at cards it’s not like he can beat jack in video games

ticci toby:

- dnd enjoyer he loves being the dm especially

- he, you, jeff, hoodie, lj, and occasionally masky have game nights and all you guys do is sit around the kitchen table trying not to curse each other out for doing stupid shit

- “c’mon guys this is supposed to be fun :(”

- doesn’t know that most of you have no idea how to play so he makes it super difficult

- has had to REPEATEDLY glue the die back together because jeff cannot stop snapping it in half

- “why does your dumbass partner always win this is fucking favoritism” “and then jeffery fell off a building and into the ocean 🥰”

- teaches you all you need to know about the game he will sit there for hours if he needs to just talking about the complexity of the rules

- he seems to have a lot of fun with it so everyone tries their best to not break the pieces or punch masky or yell at each other or punch masky

- better with snacks and drinks and lots of breaks so everyone can calm down and at least try to find some joy in the game

- 6/10 experience. would only try again without jeff at the table

homicidal liu:

- among us player… pisses everybody off bc he’s unfortunately very good at it and always imposter

- absolutely kills it (pun intended)

- no mercy he kills everyone including his loved ones this is a battle to the death and he is going to win goddamnit

- being imposter with him is some of the easiest shit bc he will carry the team entirely

- nothing to brag about tho since it’s a little space game and it’s really easy

- always knows who the imposter is if it’s not him he’s got some kind of foresight he will go out of his way to sabotage their chances at winning

- “would you love me more… if i killed someone for you 😇😇” “but you killed ME liu” “whoops”

- will stay with you for most of the game so he has an excuse for being innocent. once you are of no use to him he will stab you in the back

- relatively tame over voice chat. unless his brother happens to be there then it’s just jeff getting pissed off bc he can’t activate the reactor

- wakes you up at 2 am, phone in hand, smile on his face, asking “do you wanna play among us?”

- “liu, shut the fuck up and go back to sleep.” “ok.. :((”

kagekao:

- great at those games you play in your yard like frisbee or tag or hide n seek or maybe darts

- since the bitch can fly and run really fast it’s very unfair he pretty much cheats at everything and he thinks it’s funny

- frisbee with him is a literal field day. throws it so far you can’t find it ever again you’ll just have to buy a whole ass new one

- “what the FUCK kagekao” “🤷”

- laughs and makes fun of you for just not being as skilled as him maybe if you could fly you could beat him just get off the ground dumbass

- also likes to race but we all know how that’s gonna go (hint: he wins)

- unless he’s up against candy pop or something no one else really has a chance at beating him

- might help you a little bit if you’re struggling. like that one time he carried you up into the air and then dropped you because he thought it would be funny but then he couldn’t catch you in time so you ended up falling on lj and breaking one of your arms

- wrote you a little heartfelt letter about it later with a very fancy “sorry ❤️” in calligraphy and a few drawings of flowers (it did not help. your arm was still broken)

- really bad sport does NOT like to lose he will completely shut down

- little fuckin bastard

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

HELLO I HAVE ARRIVED WITH MY REQUEST! HERE I GO!

I’ve been kinda thinking about this one recently and I don’t think this will be a “X Reader” thing but I wanna know how Alastor’s Mother found out that he had died, also including that she found out that he was a serial killer, I feel like she would be devastated but I feel like she’s the type of mother to still love her son even though he had killed people, so to put this together what was her reaction when alastor died / killed people? what did she do?

Thank you! I hope this isn’t to confusing, feel free to decline this request if it’s to much but just DM me if you do so anyways so I know, 谢谢 (:

I love this question because I’ve thought and read about it so many times, so im glad to finally be sharing this with people!! I kind of always felt like Alastor’s mother would die before him, so he wouldn’t have to face her, but in the case scenario that he did, I think it’d be a bit hectic.

Reacting to The News of His Death

Alastor’s mother would receive the news of his death first. The initial reaction would likely be one of profound shock and grief. She might be at home, going about her daily routine, when a knock on the door interrupts her. A police officer or a neighbor might deliver the tragic news.

Immediate Grief: She would be devastated, overwhelmed by the sudden loss of her son. The house would fill with her cries of sorrow, the sound of breaking glass as she drops whatever she was holding in shock.

Denial and Disbelief: In the following hours and days, she might experience disbelief, clinging to the hope that there was a mistake, that Alastor was still alive somewhere.

Then there’s Learning About His Crimes

The revelation of his crimes would come shortly after, perhaps through police investigation or media coverage, either way she’d definitely find out what he did. This could go one of three ways I feel like:

Initial Shock: The first news of his criminal activities would hit her like a second wave of grief. The realization that her son led a double life as a serial killer would be almost incomprehensible.

Denial: She might refuse to believe it at first, convinced that there was a mistake, that her son was being falsely accused.

Acceptance and Sorrow: As evidence mounts, she would have no choice but to accept the truth. The acceptance would bring a different kind of sorrow—a mourning not just for his death, but for the loss of the son she thought she knew.

Then there’s the factor that I feel like everyone thinks about the most, especially since Alastor is a momma’s boy: A Mother’s Unconditional Love

Despite the horrific nature of his crimes, her love for him would remain. This love would be complex and fraught with internal conflict and a lot of questions on her end. This could be rough for her, and though from what I’ve read she seems to be a kind hearted woman, I feel like she’d feel like she’s partially to blame for it.

Remembering the Good: She would cling to memories of Alastor as a child—the sweet moments, the times he showed kindness and affection. These memories would provide some solace, even as she grapples with his dark side.

Rationalizing: She might try to rationalize his actions, looking for explanations in his past, in their family history, or in his personality. This could be a way to make sense of the senseless. She would feel like this is because of his father’s absence, or her lack of parenting skills and how she feels like she could’ve been a better mother to him. That maybe she went wrong somewhere and that this isn’t his fault but her’s.

Secret Support: Even though she couldn’t condone his actions, she might secretly still feel protective of his memory, hoping to shield his name from complete disgrace. He is still her son, and though he’s done horrible things in her mind he’s never been a violent man.

Coping and Moving Forward

In the aftermath, Alastor’s mother would have to find a way to move forward, bearing the heavy burden of his legacy. I feel like this would affect her day to day life. People would stare at her awkwardly, she’d have the reputation of birthing a monster, and would most likely be shunned out from society. Or people would feel bad for her for having a ‘sick’ child and never knowing, or just feeling so awful for her and pitting her because she’s related to such a ‘monster’.

Private Mourning: Her grief would be largely private, as she might face ostracism from the community or even her own family.

Visiting His Grave: She would likely visit his grave regularly, talking to him as if he could hear her, seeking some form of closure.

Acts of Redemption: She might engage in charitable acts or community service, trying to bring some light into the world to counteract the darkness of his actions. This could be her way of coping with the guilt and sadness.

[moonshynecybin]

https://www.tumblr.com/moonshynecybin/764159761331732480

callie outing myself here for u….two brothers going through the Horrors both manmade and magic in nature, a literally omniscient and ancient vale fascinated by this ant at the center of the universe. spn betrayals go so hard im vibrating rn the man who would be king vale face to the sky asking for a sign from god to tell him what to do. gets nothing. season 7 premiere meet the new boss vale????

fundamentally supernatural is about betraying your family (which includes like two people: your homoerotic love interest and your brother) and maybe the WORLD in order to preserve your family's safety. its a rake that every single member of this show walks into of their own volition like literally all the time. now marc and alex have this in the BAG, and i think vale COULD do cas's season long oh my god im in love with an insect crisis gayboy meltdown before ultimately it culminated in his accepting that yeah. hes would sacrifice everything for marc but also being in huge denial that it is because hes in LOVE with him for like. many more years

so its marc as older 'golden boy' hunter parentified monster killer extraordinaire and alex who maybe has a chance to leave and go to school. and UNLIKE dean's crazy ass, marc is the one who actually has to convince ALEX to go and be a mechanical engineer at school while he continues his extremely lonely career-focused cartwheeling from town to town hunter lifestyle (hes SO alone if i think about him without alex.. wahh) blah blah blah the regular supernatural tragedy spurring life events plot mechanisms occur (parents die? smth) and we fast forward to marc making a deal with a demon to save alex's life and getting sent directly to hell. sorry 2 marc he WOULD do it to save his brother i have NO doubt about that whatsoever. anyways hes in the trauma tunnels. arm-level personality change

and then its like. waking up in his own grave. digging himself out. pulling up the sleeve on his right arm to see a bright red handprint BRANDED on his skin. linking up with alex who is maybe making inadvisable choices in marc's absence (going insane, drinking demon blood and training to kill the demon that killed marc etc). going to a psychic and vale accidently burning out her EYEBALLS. summoning vale to a barn in the middle of nowhere and vale walks in like a spritely little y2k eurotrash ASSHOLE with sideburns and sparks flying and the windows rattle and he looks at marc and tilts his head and smiles.... and marc asks who are you. and vale hits him with the "im the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition" and then marc STABS HIM…

[punks-never-die205]

Thinking about Passing Fascinaton:

Cw: yandere, piss, humiliation, non-con - toxic toxic toxic - nothing about this AU is kind.

Continue at thine own risk.

Just wrote out a scene that may or may not fit into the actual story, but it certainly fits with the AU.

You do something that enrages the captain and he decides to punish you. He doesn’t want to break you or your bones, and at this point he knows what things you try to hold onto for your own sanity.

“Drink.” He commands, and you do. You know he’s angry, you can feel it rolling off him. So you drink.

And drink.

And drink.

It’s just water, but eventually, after hours of quietly accepting every glass he gave you, you shiver, terrified of his reaction. “I can’t drink anymore.” You can feel your stomach knot with fear, but he doesn’t bellow at you.

“Strip.” He commands, and you do. You’re in the bedroom and you expected this command - it preceded pleasure and pain, praise and punishment, orgasm and denial both.

It was better to strip voluntarily, you’d learned quickly.

Once your clothes are shed he grabs your arm and drags you out of the bedroom. You whimper and cry, you know better than to beg, but you don’t want anyone else to see you naked.

You nearly throw up when he pushes past the last door and drags you out onto the main deck. It’s bright and sunny out, warm and comfortable, and most of the crew is around.

Every set of eyes is on you.

“Oi, Killer.” Kid calls and his first mate comes over. “Sit there.” He says and Killer does.

Kid tosses your naked body into Killer’s lap before yanking a chair over with his Devil fruit. You’re center stage, and Killer has already pulled you into a position.

Your legs are on either side of his and he’s got you both open wide. Thick hands hold your wrists easily and he keeps your arms and legs open - you are on full display for the crew.

It’s quiet for a minute and you manage to get your hitched breathing and choked sobs under control. You want to throw yourself overboard, but you have no hope of pulling free from Killer.

“This is your punishment,” Kid says, as if you weren’t already well aware. “Piss.”

It takes a moment for the word to really sink into you. You can feel your entire body twist and knot. You heave, nearly throwing up, and shake your head.

“Please…. Please I can’t.” Your voice is small, it’s a punishment, he won’t relent. But you can’t.

“You drank plenty.” He points out. “You certainly need to piss.”

“I - I can’t. Not, not in front everyone.” You nearly wail. You know tears won’t save you but you can’t stop them. “P-please Kid, I’m - hic - sorry, I’m sorry!”

He just keeps looking at you. He’s not accepting it or dismissing it, and you already know what he’d say anyway. Words are shit, forgiveness is in the action.

That’s why punishments are non-negotiable.

“If you can’t piss without help,” he says in a voice almost bored. “Wire can fuck it out of you.”

You force yourself to breathe. Wire was the only one on the crew more endowed than Kid, and he didn’t give a shit about you, unlike the captain. There’d be no mercy.

“… no. No I… I can do it.”

“Someone’ll have to clean the deck after.” Killer says, the suddenness of his voice nearly making you yelp in surprise.

“Good point. Hey, Bunblegum, you said you’d drink her piss, get over here.” Kid commands and Bubblegum comes over. Lanky and creepy he looks delighted, giving an energetic aye aye cap’n before getting down between your thighs.

“Far enough away we can all see it.” Kid instructs. “Lick ‘er clean after.”

The words were like a punch to the gut and a pained sound escapes you. The look on Kid’s face speaks volumes and you don’t protest.

Tears fall down your cheeks as your bladder lets go. The crew chants chug chug chug to cheer Bubblegum on, and he happily drinks every drop. His tongue against your clit makes you shudder, you twitch and Killer pulls you open wider.

Bubblegum doesn’t relent until you’re crying that you’re clean, you’re clean and he can stop. Kid pulls him away and you repeat your apology, you’re going to do your best so he doesn’t have to punish you again. You shouldn’t have pushed him to this point, it’s your fault and you won’t make that mistake again.

You can do it, you can be his trusted partner. You can work your way up from the ship’s toy to a trusted crew member. You can and you will, so please, please don’t make you do that again.

You beg and promise and cry into his arms as he carries you back to the bedroom, petting you and soothing you and praising you.

You did good and he knows you’ll do your best.

[brucewaynehater101]

I've been reading your blog since I stumbled upon it and gotta say I love your ideas and the way you expand on asks.

I've been having some thoughts on Brightest vs Darkest future Batfam. For the Brightest future we are looking at a timeline where Bruce got some therapy and he's actually a decent dad by the time we reach current day. This doesn't completely erase the arcs where characters suffer, but he handles things a little bit better. The kids still have issues with him but they understand that he's trying now and they want to give him a second chance.

Now some time of magic bullshit conjures to this version of Gotham the worst versions of each of them. All coming from different dimensions where Bruce is the worst to them specifically. Some may have even killed their version of the Bat and won't waste the opportunity to do so again. Suddenly, they are forced to fight against

Talon Dick Grayson, who is not only an extremely skilled killer, he's cult leader levels of manipulative. He may even pretend to ally himself to the bats at first just so he can actually get his claws in and make it hurt later on.

Catatonic/Pit mad Jason who never got his own mind back. A league level ninja with only the flashes of his worst memories. We are talking "might nuke Gotham if he had the cognitive function to plan it out". His Bruce is not that much different than canon Bruce, the main difference being he refuses to accept RH is Jason, making him regress more and more into pit madness to the point of fully losing it.

Evil Jane Doe Tim that absolutely (and deservedly) snapped at B after everything he put Tim through while never asking his siblings for the same sacrifice. Maybe he was also JJed in his timeline and is the single most unsettling, cunning, motherfucker. He just keeps fucking with the Batfam from the shadows and they can't find the source.

Silent assassin Cass that simply can't be reasoned with because she has no way to communicate outside body language. Not only is she capable of beating Batman's ass without breaking a sweat she's also very hard to catch even with all the Batfam going after her (very much you can kill me or you can let me go, but you're not catching me)

Usurper Damián, similar to canon Damian but completely cut off from any external support (including Dick) due to Batman's paranoia. Bruce punishes him without explaining where he went wrong. No positive reinforcement at all, no encouraging of proper socializing. He doesn't get out of his brain washed mentality and comes to the conclusion that his father is weak. So he kills Tim Drake, frames Red Hood and takes over Robin. He feeds his father paranoia and eventually takes over Batman too because his father doesn't deserve it. He might take over the league afterwards too, because if Ra's respected someone as weak as the Bat maybe he shouldn't have his cult.

I just think it would be just so deliciously angsty for the happiest version of the Batfam being forced to confront these awful possibilities. I can also see Talon/Jane Doe/Usurper trying to convince their other selves of joining them, explaining just how awful Bruce is, even if this version is not as bad as theirs. How Dick/Tim/Damian might struggle to disagree or defend Bruce's past actions. How devastating it would be for Jason and Cass to face a very real possibility. Someone they can't even reason with, reduced to an almost animal state by forces outside their power.

And of course Bruce. A version of Bruce that had actually realized he'd been failing his kids and started working on making things up to them being forced by the ghosts of his failure. Would he completely close off and give into paranoia? (If these versions of his kids are evil, what's stopping his own kids?). Going into denial mode and erasing his progress? ("See? I've done nothing wrong, you guys turned out fine compared to them). Does he give in to grief and his martyr complex, more focused on his failings than trying to fix things? I imagine in a good ending version this event would solidify his resolve, understanding the weight of his failings as a father and as Batman. After fixing the timeline issue he would have to work not only on being better, but acknowledging his past mistakes and giving his kids the space to stay mad/express why that hurt them.

But outside that one good ending? The Bat is fucked. Especially with greatest manipulator Talon, master of puppets Jane Doe and (possibly) literal cult leader Damian getting into their heads. Hell Jason doesn't need to be told twice to turn on his father again after being reminded of how he screwed not only him but his siblings up. Cass might be loyal to Bruce but if Oracle switches sides she might start reconsidering.

Just fucked up Batfam haunting their canon selves and forcing them to admit even "nice" canon Bruce has traumatized them severely.

Hello!!!! Glad you enjoy my blog! I particularly love how people share their ideas, and it inspires others to add on or share other ideas.

So! Let's develop this AU a bit more.

We've got Dick, Cass, Jason, Tim, Damian, and their counterparts. If you wanted, we could add Barbara and Steph counterparts as well. Bruce's "evil" self never appears in this dimension, but his evil selves are part of what created the "villians" that do appear.

As far as timeline, this is after Damian appears. For Damian's angst, I think he should be Robin. Tim and him have worked past their issues regarding the change in mantle, and the older one has even said he was proud that Damian was the one to wear his mantle (which makes what F!Damian did even worse).

Imma use F!Batfam for the counterparts to indicate the fucked up ones.

No matter what the others say about Bruce, F!Bats will not believe that he is a decent father and man. There's several reasons for this. One, all F!Bats come from separate universes where Bruce was a horrible person. Two, the man is exceptional at mind games and deception. Three, if Bruce was capable of change with just some therapy, what does that say about their lives with their Bruce?

I wanted to add on to Talon Dick's lore. I hc that, after he becomes a talon, he slowly manipulates and murders his way up to the top of the Court of Owls. From there, he kills off weaklings and creates his own cult/rule. He is a very fucked up person, morally and mentally, but he believes that he's enacting some sort of good with his power. Through his cult that preaches acceptance and love, people flock to his "goodwill" and "grace." His Bruce, which has proven to be a horrible man with the way he dehumanized this Dick, kept hurting Dick and getting in his way. Dick had to kill him.

I really wanted F!Damian and F!Dick to be cult-ish leaders, with the parallels of them revamping an ancient order for their own desires.

For F!Jason, he can communicate and plan. He's stealthy, deadly, and tactful. His Pit Madness and rage, however, make it impossible to communicate or convince him from whatever he deems is appropriate. Even if it's impractical, such as making displays out of his enemies' bodies, he will not be deterred from his judgments and wants.

F!Tim could have similar tendencies as F!Dick to manipulate, but he's not as skilled as that man is emotionally. He's ruthless and toys with his enemies, drawing out their pain and misery in creative new ways (some part of him curses Joker and JJ for that). No one was on his side, so he'll never allow for anyone to be. All of the F!Bats hurt the OG family, but Tim was failed repeatedly by the Bats. JJ may have helped, but it was F!Tim's batfam that twisted the kid into an unsettling creature waiting to draw out suffering for his own amusement.

I can add more for the others (or create some for Babs and Steph) if you want.

However, more angst real quick to add would be watching their F!Batfam recommit their faults against OG batfam. By that, I mean OG Jason watching as F!Jason slits Tim's throat.

Stuff like watching the worst version of yourself recommit deeds you've already worked to beg forgiveness for. Yikes.

[laceymorganwrites]

Jealousy suits you

One Piece men edition

A/N: Look, jealousy hcs for the guys are always nice, but I need more feral and possessive reader ones so here you go 

Female reader

NSFW

Kid:

oh he´s gonna love this

begrudgingly

for Kid being jealous himself is natural, and he hates seeing you complain about it. you´re his and nobody else can have you. simple as that

when you tell him you´re jealous, or when he notices more likely, his first instinct would be to belittle you a bit

he finds it cute but doesn´t take you seriously at first

after all he doesn´t care about any other women than you

but when you´re in bed that night, he sees the sheer anger and passion in your eyes

oh it just clicks for him

he wants to tease you, how desperate you are for marking him up

you tell him to shut up and his dick twitches, he has to hold himself back not to cum on the spot

Kid enjoyed the switch of power a bit too much and won´t even stop any women from flirting with him anymore

Kaido:

he´s so dense, he doesn´t even realize you´re jealous

doesn´t take you serious at all in your emotions so he won´t even be mad or annoyed

just tries to shrug it off

but when you´re home and just push him onto bed roughly he´s flabbergasted, does not know what´s going on

doesn´t mind the change of power, you two have been together long enough for him to fully trust you and accept the fact he´s enjoying a bit of care from you from time to time

but you´ve never been so rough with him before, it surprises him quite a bit

you´re riding him when you finally tell him he should stop letting other women get so close to him 

he tries to reassure you as best as he can but you´re not getting more than: ´don´t be ridiculous´

Kaido doesn´t care for other women, it´s been hard enough to get you in the first place (most of all because he´s been in denial of his own feelings for so long)

still, you won´t be satisfied with just this answer tonight, opting to pull at his horns and be even rougher with him

´...I´ll send them away next time´

King:

out of all of them he immediately realizes when he´s being flirted with by some other woman 

and he´s fucking scared of it

he hates getting attention like this when it´s not from you

he always tells you when some woman bothered him on his way back home, which you then take care of

but one day you were out in town with him, holding his hand, very clearly a couple

so when some woman blatantly flirts with King in front of you, touching his chest, you just flip

King apologizes to you at home, saying how he was just frozen and couldn´t do anything

but he´s always a good boy, you know that 

and you don´t blame him at all

still, you need to get your frustrations out

you´re gentle with him in bed, paying attention to his most sensitve spots

you overstimulate his nipples, biting and marking them until he´s a whimpering mess

your touches are so soft and gentle, so passionate

he used to hate his voice so much but you manage to force it out of him over and over again

you´re fingering him, it´s almost embarrassing at this time how easy and quick you find his prostrate every damn time

but tonight you make him cum untouched for the first time

´only I get to touch you like that´

Killer:

he knows he´s in trouble when he sees that sweet smile of yours when he´s giving this poor woman directions

she wasn´t even flirting with him but Killer´s always too nice to everybody and that irks you

you usually don´t get that possessive but when you do there´s no stopping it

you´re scaringly calm and quiet whenever you get jealous, ordering him around when you´re alone

you´ll be nice enough with foreplay, stretching him out nicely, making him cum almost, but only almost

the strap you have is bigger than his cock and it fills him up perfectly, he´s alwasy a whimpering mess when you use it, so it´s your lucky charm

you have him against your chest, mercilessly fucking into him and hearing that sweet slutty moan when you pull his hair just right

´mommy, please-´

´please what? use your words, you´re a big boy aren´t you?´

´I´m yours, only yours, please, mommy, please I need it so bad´

[valentinesdaydate98]

The Phantomhive Butler

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Please bear with me. English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for any grammar and/or spelling mistakes. The main love interest has a name, but I try not to be too descriptive. I hope you enjoy. Thank you!

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x reader

With any encounter with a demon, one must be on edge. Demons are sneaky creatures, manipulative, dangerous, untrustworthy, and much more. Charlotte remained cautious until she formed a contract.

Charlotte encountered the demon when Ciel started working on the Jack the Ripper case. They were never that close. Even with his return from his kidnappers, he was distant with her. His behavior led her to become distant. So, it was shocking when she received a letter from Madam Red requesting she join her to surprise Ciel and help him with his case. She hesitated at first, but she caved in. He was family, after all. Besides, Auntie would still have ways to convince her to help.

When she arrived at Ciel’s London Townhouse, she was taken aback by an unfamiliar figure. It's a new butler. Though staff members come and go, there was something different about him. On the outside, the butler was just a competent and hard-working person. He was rather kind and helpful to her and her family. However, there is an unusual and unsettling aura around him. He completed his duties with no mistakes. Not to mention, at lightning speed. He was intriguing. She must get to know him.

Sebastian Michaelis introduced himself, and thus the nightmare began.

The red flags appeared almost immediately. Ciel had everyone in the carriage and requested that Sebastian compile a list of Jack the Ripper suspects. Upon accepting his master’s request, Sebastian went to work by jumping from the carriage while it was still moving. Worried about his well-being, she looks out the window and doesn’t see him anywhere. ‘Where did he go?’, she thought to herself.

The next thing was when he returned to the townhouse with tea ready. All before everyone else came home. She looked perplexed by him. ‘He pulled out of a long list of suspects with no injuries to his body? And he has tea ready?’, she thought to herself. Even when Madam Red questioned him, Sebastian avoided answering them with a logical explanation. It was also frustrating that Auntie didn't push for answers from the butler. But she also doesn’t push for further answers since her focus is on capturing the killer and helping Ciel.

However, despite how uneasy she felt around Sebastian, she grew to have a soft spot for him. For one thing, he amuses her. It’s entertaining to see Sebastian using his wits to tease other people besides her. Especially when the victim is Ciel or his coworkers. Ciel explained his plan to infiltrate the Viscount Druitt’s mansion and arrest him. Although she volunteered to be the one to seduce the Viscount, Ciel immediately shut the idea down. The immense guilt she felt melted away once she saw Ciel’s disguise. The huge, puffy pink dress with a million frills only made it worse when Sebastian opened his mouth. She never could contain her laughter around him.

Despite her denial, her heart flutters whenever Sebastian shows physical affection. Especially during at night when she has trouble sleeping. He walked into her room to comfort her. Not to baby her like her Auntie does, not to degrade her, but to comfort her. The gentle caresses that she requested from him. She knows deep down he doesn’t care for her. But even then, it didn’t matter. As long as she has a companion at night, it won’t matter. Even if she won’t hear the end of it.

It was just a fun game for both.

Failing to capture the killer, Charlotte experienced feelings of anxiety and devastation. She couldn’t help but cling more to Madam Red to feel protected. Her warm body and reassuring and kind words always comforted her. Her Auntie was always a strong woman during difficult situations. With her clinging on to her aunt, Charlotte had to watch her least favorite sport, chess. However, after watching Ciel and Auntie play chess, she knew he was up to something and followed him (and his butler). Whether this was an excellent decision was up for debate.

It wasn’t until the Jack the Ripper case was over that she received the answers.

Madame Red. She was Jack the Ripper. She killed all those innocent women and ruined their families’ lives. It was all too much. The shocking revelation, the blood, the fight between Sebastian and Grelle. It wasn’t until she saw her auntie strangling Ciel that Charlotte knew she had to get involved. However, despite saving Ciel’s life, her auntie stabbed her. The ultimate betrayal. Before she passes out, she looks back at Ciel. A sigh of relief once she realizes he is safe and uninjured. The darkness consumed her, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Later that night, the rain drowned out the singing of crickets that once echoed throughout the evening. Though it usually lulls her to sleep, the events of earlier in the night plagued her mind. Not to mention the pain remains to plague her. Eventually, she fell asleep, but not before she woke up screaming before quickly covering her mouth. As she catches her breath, the dream plays out in her head. The same warm blood staining her skin, the loud cries of her family members, and the revelation of her dear aunt being a serial killer. She couldn’t hold it in much longer. In the middle of her breakdown, Charlotte failed to realize someone was in her room.

“Having trouble staying asleep, my ladyship? How troublesome. Would you like me to assist you? A soothing lullaby perhaps?” Sebastian asked with the same playful voice she’s used to hearing. She glared at his question.

“Hush you. I have never asked you to do something so childish as singing me a lullaby,” Charlotte said with a slight annoyance as she wiped her tears away.

“Oh, no? I can’t quite remember. You cling to your family members like a little child. Even to my Lord, you cling tightly.” Sebastian replied with a smirk.

“Hmph. It was a moment of weakness, but that’s just it. It was one moment. Say, how did you get into my room? I didn’t hear the door open,” Charlotte said.

“Never mind that, my lady. You have trouble staying asleep, so I made you some hot chamomile tea. My lord has informed me you are quite picky, especially with tea. He told me you like your tea plain. So, I hope you enjoy your cup.”

“Ciel told you?” Charlotte stammered as she gazed at the cup. “I didn’t think he would remember something as simple as that,” she let out a small smile. “I will have to thank him for that some other time.” She hesitated before drinking her tea. “This is quite adequate. Thank you, Sebastian,” Charlotte said as she tried not to gag. Any praise Sebastian gets from her, he becomes a cheeky bastard. What an annoyance!

“However, that doesn’t answer my question, Sebastian. I knew you were watching me. The moment I started following you both, I saw your eyes on me. So, I ask again, how did you get into my room without making a sound?”

“Now, now, my lady,” Sebastian said as he tugged her hair behind her ears. It’s been like a cycle between the two. Whenever she has suspicions about Sebastian, he uses physical affection to keep her mind occupied. Such as when she questioned how he got her afternoon tea and cake ready in a blink of an eye, a soft caress of her cheek and a compliment made her forget about her question. Often, her cheeks would turn rosy, and she would respond with a shy smile. A little touch goes a long way. However,

“Stop that immediately.” Charlotte raised her voice and scooted away from Sebastian. “Enough of your affections for now. I know you and Ciel are hiding something here. You made that long list of suspects in a short amount of time. You absolute maniac, why did you jump out of the carriage? I didn’t even hear a groan from your lips. And I swear you have super strength and speed. How?” She takes a moment to take a deep breath. “You know I saw everything, Sebastian,” she starts. “That fight with Grelle was the final nail in the coffin. You’ve been suspicious since the very beginning. So admit it, Sebastian. You’re a demon, aren’t you?” she said with a scowl.

Sebastian smirked at her revelation and chuckled. “My lady, you’ve had quite an unfortunate night,” Sebastian interrupted her. “It’s best to get some rest now. I promise you will find the answers to your questions soon enough. I’m sure your auntie doesn’t want you to stress out,” he said with a light chuckle at the end. Her eyes widened. That’s right, Auntie is no longer here.

In pure rage, she lifted her hand out to slap Sebastian, only to be stopped. A tight grip was on her wrist as Sebastian’s smirk only grew.

“My lady, how cruel. Here I thought we were getting along swimmingly.” Sebastian squeezes her hand small, delicate hand as he presses his lips on her knuckles.

“Auntie.,” she mumbled, as if it were a brief prayer. As if she called out her name, Madam Red would appear. Unfortunately, that will never be the case. Instead, she faces Sebastian, the demon butler. “So you are a demon,” she mumbled again to herself. “What are your intentions with Ciel?” she raised her voice. “Are you after his soul, perhaps? Or are you…”

“I’m only going to say this once more. Rest now, dear. You have a long day ahead of you. I need to report your discovery to my master first thing in the morning. We shall see what we will do with you soon. Enjoy your night,” he whispered in her ear as he caressed her cheek. She gasps softly at his touch. Normally, she would feel his glove touching her cheek. She glanced at his hand, and her stomach dropped as she saw his mark. The Faustian contract mark.

“Good night, my lady. I hope you sleep well. I can't wait to see you in the morning,” he said before he planted a soft peck on her cheek. A goodnight kiss, a kiss goodbye to a normal life.

“Good night, Sebastian.”

[circuscountdowns]

Hi! Wanted to start off by saying that I LOVE your cotl art its such a huge inspiration to me :D! I recently picked up drawing again and I've unfortunately been upset? envious?! of others' skills and just wanted to ask if you ever experienced this as a fellow artist and if so how do you not do that lol. Sorry for the weird question. I just thought some insight and advice from a fellow artist could helo. BUT I hope you still have a nice day and look forward to any more cotl art or anything you draw really :D!!! (also is okay if you don't answer it is a loaded question I just be in a silly goofy mood lately okay bye!)

oh wow being on the receiving end of a question like this is surreal, I’m honored my work inspires you! Thank u, you’re sweet, it’s not a loaded question at all! Here’s my long reply sorry

so unfortunately that comparing yourself to others thing doesn’t go away ever asdfgjkl. I suffer it every day, it sucks, feels bad. I’ve had industry people tell me they feel this way and they’ll have some of the most gorgeous visdev/boards/animation I’ve ever seen. Disheartening to hear, But! I’m a big believer that comparing your artworks with others is best used as a tool and not a punishment to yourself!

When looking at art you like, try to turn thoughts of, “Man I wish my stuff looked like that, my shit sucks,” to, “What is it that I like about this piece? The line art? The perspective?” Sometimes I’ll see work with thin line art and I’ll get an itch, and I’ll draw something with thin line art. It’s a conscious effort of keepin emotion out of that itch, keeping it as, “I saw art with thin lines, I want to do that. Yay I did that!” Compartmentalize it, the itch was simply to do thin line work, not to remake the piece you were inspired by. And you got a piece of art out of it, and a single piece is progress no matter how small!

If you want to compare, do it methodically! Why does my work look different (never use the words better or worse)! Oh, I see my piece doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, so the framing is different, I’ll be aware of that next time if it bothers me. Or, Oh I see they shade by hatching along with the form, I’ve just been going horizontally, I’ll try that other way!

it’s a learning curve of training yourself, like all corrective behavior.

like, I kinda have the warning feeling of dread when I’m about to compare my work with something, so before the self-deprecating thought can even start I have to think What do I Like about this?

I’m no expert at it, though. Actually getting myself to think this way is a struggle, but I find when I make Thoughtful Observations I level up. Not by a lot most times, but yknow.

and this part is just my personal experience:

Fanart and the internet can be the biggest Art skill killer sometimes. Get offline and cater to the audience that Really matters to your passion: You! I improved the most by spending 2-3 years doing doodles/comics/models for my dnd campaign ocs because I was that obsessed and I simply wanted to have it for me!

and after all that, then there’s the hardest skill of just accepting your work as is.

like, to me, my work is just scribbles. I see other artists’ stuff and go “Man they’re so good at comics and colors, man, why can’t I color?” But do I need to??? I don’t like coloring, do I need to be good at it? This isn’t a career, this is supposed to be fun! I scribble because I like it! I’m glad this persons good at coloring, I don’t need to be! Yay!

if I Want to be good at it, I’ll take the steps to get there! But if not, my scribbles are just fine :) I love black and white and values

I’ve been having that one on repeat for a while. It helps

(acceptance and denial go hand in hand btw lol they sound the same)

I wish there was a little off button for envy, but ah well! I hope that you take comfort in knowing we are all feeling it, and find joy in even the smallest little doodle you make! Have fun stay goofy!

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep2 Musings - At the Chateau

More random musings; this time specifically about The Hunt at the Chateau.

I hate these two wenches specifically, but NGL, they look cool here.

Ohhhh, AMC knew what they were doing, going RIGHT for my ovaries! 😍 DADDY TUAN PHAM! 😍😍

Sincere is one thing. HONEST is another, though. Y'all knew those Americans were sus, Armand. They're not buying that "Bruce" BS, Louis, don't sleep on them!

I am SO BUMMED that we didn't get to SEE this scene; I was so excited!

Now I'll never get to see Louis so bored out of his skull by Santiago's thespian charms that he starts snoring in the middle of the play. U_U

Mr. I Could Not Prevent It, what were YOU doing to protect your man? You slaughter random innocent fledglings just for blinking, but you let your whole coven plot Louis & Claudia's demise right under your nose?

Bull frikkin crap!

Daciana been knew. U_U

Who is the coven LEADER, and the coven MASTER?

"COMPLICIT" finna be my favorite word this season, istg.

SO well said, Louis; as this beastly monstrous coven has TWO heads, these SNAKES, this immortal Hydra that only dies when Hercules cuts its head off and cauterizes the wound.

I am SO ready.

I loooove this transition frame; the Moulin Rouge as the most famous French theatre in pop culture, as Louis snaps his sad photos and Claudia whoops and the Theatre Louis sets on fire takes them hunting to a chateau they'll set on fire.

Reminds me of what Lestat said: "there is a veil between us; but it is a THIN veil." Louis will never be "one" with y'all. He's already bound by "a cord you cannot see, but it is real;" all your Mind Gift's mindscrewing can't un-screw Lestat out of Louis' blood! 😜 Louis drags that camera EVERYWHERE, ducking behind the lens, seeing the world thru a Glass Darkly; a warped perception of time & space. Cuz he's STRUGGLING; looking for God; looking for ("the wrong kind" of) love in all the wrong places.

Look at the things he takes pictures of! He's documenting DEATH; a MASS MURDER--"you are chronicling a suicide"--as the coven rides their bikes to the house they're gonna KILL everyone in. This isn't a mere road trip; this is a HUNT.

Equestrian statues & triumphal arches--monuments of blood-soaked imperialism & colonialism.

Hedonistic bacchic revelries. "I want food, I want sex, I want to go home."

Meanwhile, Claudia's high as a kite, on cloud 9.

EVERYBODY, Claudia? As they pan to Louis? "I hate you both!"

I wanna throw up when I remember Claudia's ashes got mixed with the coven's when the Theatre burned down. U_U No justice, and no peace. Claudia, I would've become the most notorious Parisian poltergeist in history--the Pope himself would've had to come up to perform the exorcism, on god I'd make my death everyone's problem.

But the LOOK on Louis' face, omg.

Whole 5 stages of grief in reverse:

Acceptance: he TRIES to "be one with us," taking on the "collective hunger;" smiling (fake AF) as he tries to soak in Claudia's ecstasy; riding in Armand's sidecar, flirting with the "Maitre," cozying up with his potential new beau

Depression: knowing full well he hates the rampant bloodlust & violence, the carnage in the chateau on fire behind him

Bargaining: Mr. I Only Eat Once Every Other Day, refusing to take part the the slaughter but still standing by--you are all COMPLICIT--while they were being killed; and agreeing to have Armand teach him how to be a better killer by honing the Mind Gift, etc.

Anger: The Fire Gift WHENNNNNNN? Foreshadowing AF! Claudia, you WILL be avenged!

Denial: Lestat WHO? Being told straight to his face that Armand knows he's lying, knows he's been collecting alimony & child support checks from Roget, knows Claudia wants to join the coven that set up a frikkin shrine to the dude, knows Santiago's a cheap imitation of Lestat, knows DreamStat's gonna keep haunting the narrative, I can't

An EFFED UP Gothic Romance.

The book stans who keep complaining about this show are just willfully ignoring what AMC's doing here. There is PLENTY we can complain about absolutely! But overall this adaptation is a slam dunk.

[danganronpafan777]

Hihi! I have a request! Fem! Ready with the Sdra2 girl cast with a S/o that dies in the place of their best friend while trying to save them. Basically the Peko/Fuyuhiko trial. (If they live or die is up to you!)

Alright! I made the best friend part of void, sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted. Hope you enjoy!

Other void members are referenced so under the cut for spoilers!!

Setsuka Chiebukuro:

"I'm sorry, F/n. I hoped this wasn't the case, but..."

She feels hurt knowing F/n was a void, but is able to accept it rather quickly. She's more worried about you, knowing how close the two of you had been. Setsuka gently tries to convince you of the truth, comforting you every chance she could. 

When you break into tears, she's right there by your side. Setuka would like to get answers from F/n, but she'll wait for someone else to question them. Right now, you needed her more.

She holds your hand as the two of you exchange goodbyes, exchanging a few words with F/n herself. Setsuka feels a bit hurt, but she knows there must be a reason that F/n would do something like this.

She's so caught up in her own investigation that she doesn't notice your hand slip out of hers.

"N/n... you shouldn't watch, we can-...N/N..!?"

She wants to run after you, but a part of her knows that you're already gone. Setsuka yells for you to come back, and stay out of Monocrow's way, but it was too late. 

She forces herself to look away, the sounds of your blood splattering making her stomach churn. If only she payed a little more attention... she could've saved you. And if she figured out that F/n was a void, she could've avoided this whole nightmare in the first place.

Everything hurt, but Setsuka refuses to break down, offering her comfort to the others instead. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying, telling the others that she will avenge you, and everything would be alright.

It might've been more convincing if she believed it herself.

Teaming up with Nikei and F/n, Setsuka creates her own investigation for answers, promising herself that she won't rest until she's uncovered Mikado's plan and stopped the killing game once and for all.

She just wishes that you could've been here with her.

Hibiki Otonokoji:

"H-Huh!? Hey! Are we sure F/n's the killer? I-I mean... one of you guys must've made a mistake somewhere!"

She won't believe it until Sora explains the case from start to finish. As it all finally sinks in, that a good friend of hers and your best friend was a traitor the whole time... she's pissed, not hesitating to lash out at F/n. 

"Stupid Void!! I thought you were our friend!" It hurts her, and she wants to cry, but she keeps an aggressive front. Together, the two of you will cry and mourn in your room later, both of you comforting each other.

At least... that's what she thought would happen. She's taken by complete surprise when you run after F/n to the execution grounds, and Kanade has to hold her back from impulsively running after you.

She screams, crying and cursing at everything and nothing. Kanade for holding her back, Monocrow for executing you, Mikado for being the mastermind, and you for doing something so stupid. Setsuka and Kanade try to calm her down, but she hits and kicks at them weakly, just wanting to run to you.

Kanade was still holding her back as the execution continued, but it felt like she was forcing her to watch the spectacle. As blood pooled around your body, Hibiki's whole mind went numb before-

...

...

She awoke in Setsuka's arms, who had pulled her out of Kanade's grip. Hibiki noticed everyone giving her sorrowful stares, and she looked around in confusion, "...Huh? Why's everyone crying? Y/n, what's-...Where's Y/n...?"

She doesn't remember the execution, her memory going blank after F/n's reveal. Hibiki is in complete denial for a while, your death only sinking in when Kanade practically yells it to her.

She feels the numbness chill her head again, and Kanade can only laugh as she finally gets the puppet she always wanted.

Iroha Nijue:

As another member of void, she knew this would have to happen eventually, as much as she didn't want it. Iroha honestly thought it was Nikei for most of the trial, but her mouth dropped open in shock as Sora confirmed it was F/n.

It was their turn already!? Why... why couldn't your trio last just a little longer?

She was probably crying harder then you, the three of you holding each other sobbing, not wanting to let go for even a moment. 

She wrapped her arms around you, falling to her knees as F/n is pulled away from you. Her eyes are clamped shut from the tears, and it's not until she fells the absence of your warmth and the frantic calls of your classmates that she realizes something is horribly wrong...

"...Eh? Y/N! What are you doing!? S-Stop!!"

Her whole body trembles, shaking and crying as you run after F/n. She internally begs for her luck to take effect, or anything to happen so you don't meet Hajime's fate. Iroha wants to hide her face in her sketchbook, but she can't look away.

Her legs collapse from beneath her as blood pours from your head.

Nononono... you weren't supposed to die...

She locks herself in her room, drawing every memory that came to mind. F/n tries to talk to her, but she avoids them. 

Iroha wants more than anything to betray Mikado, and make him pay for what he did to you... but she doesn't have that courage. All she can do is cry as Mikado intimidates her into compliance, wallowing in her own self-pity.

She's scared... she's so scared...

She just wants to hold you, but is left with nothing except memories and despair.

Emma Magorobi:

She knew it was F/n's turn to kill, but that didn't make it any easier, knowing her S/o was about to witness the death of their best friend, and eventually, Emma's own death. 

Emma didn't need to act or create tears to fake cry, as seeing both of your reactions was heartbreaking enough for her. Ever since Mikado's betrayal and Hajime's death, combined with meeting the love of her life, Emma was on the fence about void for a while, but this...

She wasn't sure she could murder after this. She couldn't put you through that.

She didn't create a scene, wrapping her arms around you and assuring you that everything would be alright, and the two of you would get through this. 

That was the part where she had to act, and even then, it was hard to keep her voice from breaking.

She squeezes your hand as you and F/n say your final words to each other, before giving F/n a hug of her own. F/n whispers for her to take care of you, and Emma could only nod as they're dragged away, both completely clueless about what you were about to do.

"...I'm sorry, Emma."

"...Y/n...? What do you-..Y/N!"

She cries out your name, reaching out her hand and running after you. A part of her knows it's futile, but that doesn't stop her from kicking and yelling when the others hold her back.

Emma finally had something good in her life that didn't come from her divine luck. She didn't care if Utsuro came back anymore, and the blessing she had could disappear completely for all she cared. Her father was probably dead after all, and life on the streets wouldn't be nearly as devasting with you by her side.

As she watches you get impaled, dying in F/n's arms, she feels that familiar pain. The pain she'd feel nearly everyday when her father used her arms as an ashtray.

But that pain wasn't on her arms anymore, it was burning deep inside her heart.

If F/n survived, the two of them will rebel against Mikado, and end his plan once and for all.

Or die trying. At least then Emma would be able to see you again.

Sora:

She felt terrible exposing your friend like this, but if she didn't, everyone would die. 

That didn't make it any easier, sending off another thought-to-be-friend to their death, knowing they helped put you in this twisted game...

"Y/n... I'm sorry I have to do this."

You shake your head in denial, frantically looking for evidence, but refusing to snap at your girlfriend. When Sora's argument comes to a close, you were already sobbing. She can only hold you, apologizing and whispering words of comfort in your ear. 

She let you go to say your final goodbye, and gently asked if they wanted to say anything else, about Void or the killing game. F/n shook their head, moments before being dragged away, and Sora prepared to hold you again, only to be hugging empty space

"..!? Y/n!?"

She desperately reaches her hand out to grab you, impulsively following you before Yuki and Shinji hold her back. 

Sora didn't know anything about herself prior to the killing game, but you made it clear that she definitely wasn't part of void, never doubting her for a moment. She may have been an amnesiac, but she clearly remembers every moment she spent with you, the memories playing in her head on repeat as she watches you take your final breath. 

She's yelling your name, and fighting back tears, wanting nothing more than to strange Mikado herself. Even if she struggles to look at F/n the same way, she blames Mikado for your death more than anyone else, snapping at him the moment he's in her sight. 

Investigating as much as she can about void, Sora seems to distant herself from the others, only talking to F/n to question them. Mikado himself feels a bit perplexed, as she seems to be ignoring Yuki as well...

As she learns more and more about herself as the game continues, Sora imagines how you would've reacted, and things you would've said if you were still alive. The comfort it brings is almost worth the pain of remembering your death.

But nothing compares to her hatred of Mikado for doing this to you.

Yoruko Kabuya:

F/n... was apart of void?

She's angry at F/n, and scolds them a bit, but immediately drops it upon seeing you. If she felt betrayed, she couldn't imagine how you were feeling...

"Y/n...It's okay... You couldn't have known..!"

She hugs you, holding your hand as the two of you say your goodbyes. She wants to yell at F/n herself, and press them on void, but... you were taking this so hard already. 

Yoruko can see that you're shaking, and she's a bit unsure of how to comfort you, but she never would have expected you to...

"Y/n...? Y/N! Wh-What are you doing!? Y/N!"

Yoruko screams, yelling for Monocrow to stop the execution. The bird is just as confused as she is, but does nothing to stop you. 

Yoruko can't stop screaming for you and F/n. She couldn't lose the both of you. Not in the same day. She's a mess, crying and screaming your name as one of the machines lands the final blow on you. Even when you're long gone, the screams and tears won't stop. 

She feels so useless... you did so much for her, and she couldn't repay you. Yoruko wants nothing but to apologize for every even slightly mean thing she ever said to you. She feels like a failure, as you deserved so much better than this...

She can't talk to F/n. She'll only start crying and yelling again. Instead, Yoruko stands to the side, numbly nodding her head as the others demand answers about void. 

It feels like a part of her is still screaming.

Kanade Otonokoji:

"Y/n...don't you understand..? They're the killer....fufu..."

There's a few times during the trial where your sweet and innocent girlfriend turns... hostile, scolding you for not believing her, and getting mad whenever you hinted that she might be mistaken. 

When F/n was officially voted as the blackend, your sweet girlfriend was back, comforting you and gently running a hand through your hair as you cried into her shoulder. Internally, she couldn't be happier, not having to be the one to kill F/n! Now, she just had to put up with your oh so sad goodbyes, and she'd have you all to herself!

But if Kanade had one fatal flaw, it was her own confidence. She was by all means a perfect human, being as strong as Hajime and as smart as Kokoro. If she had just paid a little more attention to you, instead of grinning at F/n's face of defeat, she might have been able to stop you.

She feels her heart stop when she realizes what you're doing, before Kanade takes matters into her own hands and goes to run into the execution grounds after you. 

"N-No! Kanade!! Are you stupid!? I-If you go there, you'll-!" Hibiki grabbed her arm, already sobbing her eyes out. It was a sight that once would've pleased her, but not when it was the only thing keeping her from saving you. 

"You think I don't realize that, Hibiki!? LET ME GO YOU LITTLE-..."

She cuts herself off as you give your final scream in pain. Kanade doesn't waste a second after that, shoving her sister aside and running to you.

She feels for your pulse, and upon not being able to find one, her world goes red. 

It doesn't matter if F/n survived or not. If anything, it would've been less painful for them to die in the execution. Kanade doesn't care for answers about void, she wants revenge. 

Ironically, watching F/n get slaughtered by her own sister pushed Hibiki to her breaking point. Kanade giggled a bit watching her sister become a doll, just like she wanted before she met you. It didn't matter anymore, as now she would be meeting you again.

Still laughing maniacally, she picks up the weapon that had taken your life, taking a moment to stare at it, before thrusting it into her own heart.

Kokoro Mitsume:

By the time the investigation ended, she was completely sure that F/n was the killer, but was conflicted on whether she should tell you. She watched your emotions throughout the trial, not denying when you asked her if she truly thought F/n was the killer

You knew Kokoro couldn't reveal too much, or she'd become a target, but you couldn't help but feel betrayed that she didn't tell you, or even warn you somehow that your best friend was a void.

She knew what you were thinking, and apologized,

"Y/n... I'm sorry. I had suspicions for a while now. But, I know F/n didn't want to do this, and they genuinely enjoyed your company."

She put a hand on your shoulder, concentrating on F/n's body language and emotions to deduce as much as she could about void's purpose and the killing game. 

So much that she didn't notice your own emotions, and when she did, she didn't have enough time to figure out what you were about to do.

When she did, you were already out of reach...

Despite her quiet personality, she yelled your name. 

Kokoro rarely felt emotions, originally surprising herself when she fell in love with you. As she saw you take a spear to the stomach, she felt a part of herself die with you. The feeling of her own stomach twisting in despair, and hot tears running down her face was something she never felt before...

Actions of love had always confused her, as it seemed to cause people contradict human behavior and even common sense, but as she fought back every urge to run to your dying body in that execution, she finally understood.

She'll never be able to look at F/n the same, even though she knows it's just an effect of memory association. It's funny... she knows the science behind it all down to the last neuron, but it doesn't stop her from feeling worse. 

But if there's one thing Kokoro knows, it's that she'll be getting answers this time, whether F/n likes it or not.