#hesitant to tag this as body horror. i don't think it counts but if it does lmk

[frootbyethefoot]

oh adiris you're a greek tragedy

[ID: a digital photo of adiris from dead by daylight. the background is black, aside from three bright red outlines of the entity's claw. adiris is also coated in a very heavy red hue. she is kneeling down and is holding her hands together in a prayer. she's looking up and looks incredibly sad. END ID/]

[sinsofnivan]

I know you have a ton of requests, and you also just finished one for me lol. But whenever you’re up to it I think a hunter krauser chasing down his prey and “punishing” them for getting caught would be interesting hehe, something along those lines <3

F.I.A. = fucked in action?! — JACK KRAUSER x YOU — SMUT!

krauser GIF belongs to: eurodynamic. | divider GIF belongs to kdanie.

SUMMARY: "this has nothing to do with them. i'm a free man who made my choice!" leon tanks a deadly roundhouse straight on his jaw. the three of you hear an audible sickening crack! as leon was sent flying. before he could further hurt your partner, you don't hesitate, nor feel the fear; you leaped at krauser from behind, locking his head in place with a headlock. baby eagle's voice calls you both from the other side of the exit, and leon forcefully lifts himself off the ground. he's clearly torn between saving you, or keeping baby eagle safe. "y/n!" you hiss through grit teeth. "go, just go! i can take him!" he easily slams your body on the stone floor, ready to pursue leon—but you . . you just had to cut him on the side of his leg with a knife, didn't you? tilting his head down, he clicked his tongue disappointingly. “fine. i'll deal with you first.”

TAGS: fem bodied reader, yandere krauser, feral krauser, dubious consent, chasing, SLIGHTLY horror, he hasn't mutated here but he's infected, is it really public sex when no one's around, tinkering with canon a bit, breeding kink, edging, unsafe places to have sex?????, kidnapping, "bad end", sorry leon stans he gets cucked here

WORD COUNT: 3635

A/N: what if i said this was a part two of this krauser fic? :smirk_cat: p.s. this is set in the first scene where you fight krauser/where luis dies. but instead of luis, you take his place AND don't die, because plot armour.

WARNING: this fic contains dark content. viewer discretion is heavily, heavily advised.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

your ear is ringing, and your head is fucking throbbing. you feel like all of the breath in you was knocked out after krauser slammed you on the ground. he won't lie, he's very impressed, seeing you get back up like it was nothing. it was a harsh body slam, after all.

your ear is ringing, and your head is fucking throbbing. the ground is cold and rough against your skin, and it feels like all of the air in your lungs have been knocked out of you. krauser had just slammed you on the floor, but you stagger back on your feet like it was nothing. he's impressed. very impressed. 

"one hell of a reunion, huh? just like old times,"

krauser chuckled, his shadow ominously towering over you. this prick is waiting, daring for you to get back on your feet. "yeah. you weren't . . trying to kill me back then," you charge at him without warning, but krauser quickly shuts it down; every hook and jab are caught with his forearms.

"i'm not trying to kill you, sweets. you're the one coming at me," his cockiness never changed. your dynamics never changed. he was always mocking you. underestimating you. how couldn't he? you liked acting strong, and he liked putting you in your place. "i must say. i'm very proud of you. you've made it far, if you're assigned with that rookie with the bowl-cu—,"

"just shut up and fight!"

he clicked his tongue. "i won't fight you. do you wanna die?" you unsheathed your knife, and his golden brows narrowed at you. "if you won't, i will." you no longer wait or hesitate, driving forward and slashing in a lethal curve. he was quicker, however, deflecting your attack with his own blade; your daggers locked against each other with a clang, every collision of sharp ends ignited short-lived sparks.

krauser seems very hell-bent on not fighting you. every reckless, desperate swing is met with a repelling slash. it didn't take long for him to he catch your wrist and disarm you. the knife clanks somewhere, forgotten.

"get off—!"

the back of your head gratingly meets the hard surface as he pinned you. you groaned, clearly pained. his breath fans over your bleeding lips. "i said . . " he snarled. "—i don't want to fight you." reiterates the former major. clenching a fist, you pound your knuckles against his ribs. "fuck you! i said—!" krauser groaned with every blow you landed on his side. "—get the fuck off of me!"

clearly, he's made of steel, as your futile punches had zero effect on him, aside from making him scowl. grabbed by your vest, you're hurled toward the opposite exit—far from where leon had just fled. "you fucking brat!" his angry voice booms around the room. "you don't get it, do you?" it's terrifying, seeing his shadow hover you like that. he's pissed, that much was obvious.

"you wanna stall me, right? keeping me busy while leon plays hero?" 

you flinched when he reaches for you, bracing for a blow. but it never comes. instead, his hold only forces you to spring yourself back on your feet. the rest of your weapons, vest, gear—everything—are yanked off of your frame. you'd have protested, but his dagger's pressed onto your cheek. the tip threatens to sink into the soft flesh. he traces it down, down to your chin, neck. a red line follows the blade's path, but thankfully, no blood. "then stall me," he purred. "you have aaaaall my attention, sweets." the space between you narrows as krauser leans close. his warm breath tickles the skin under your ear.

"run, if that's what you need. make me work for it,"

a shudder runs through you as his tongue drags up the crook of your neck. "isn't that what you want?" krauser's not amused with your silence, a scowl contorting his scarred visage. he roughly guides—more like shoves, actually—you to the door forcefully, urging you to skitter away. "run. i'll even give you a headstart," his muscular arms cross over his chest.

"but when i catch you—when, not if—you better start praying."

⟡

it's adrenaline that pushes you to go forward. you're exhausted, clearly. there wasn't many places to hide in the ruins of this castle—especially when your footprints on the sand expose you out in the open.  the stone walls are rickety and decaying, and the dark didn't help at all. you practically throw yourself inside a crumbled archway, using the shadows to camouflage you. funny how you thought you've created distance between you, when his voice echoes not too far from you.

"run, y/n, run!"

that you did, even when you're stumbling in panic. the sand's all over your pants and sweaty skin. there's nowhere else to run to—with every turn blocked with piles of rubble, curse this fucking place!—but up, up this collapsed staircase; the first few steps have caved in, and you had to pull yourself up with all your strength. you groaned in struggle, hooking a leg up when the ledge is within reach. you hoped he wouldn't hear you. 

the breeze is a relief, almost like a reward, as it caressed your cheek. for once, you're given the chance to catch a breather. you tread higher up, only to find that the staircase leads to fucking nowhere but a leap into the abyss. the connecting ramp was clearly destroyed. "fuck."

you tread back down, scanning your surroundings. there must be another exit somewhere—a trapdoor, ladder, anything. you no longer hear the thumping of his boots, or his menacing chuckles—and you're not sure if you should be scared of that or not. squinting, you spot a small opening near the base of the wall. the area's dark, and almost concealed by debris. it's small, but should be big enough for you to squeeze in. him stripping away your gear probably increased your chances.  

"don't let me catch you, y/n!"

an instinctive jolt rushes through you. he's near. too near for your liking. "what's the plan, huh! gonna stay up there?" no, you weren't. you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the jump. before you could hear him utter another word, you're throwing yourself off the ledge. sure, it was a little higher than you calculated in your head but—

"eugh!"

you hit the ground in a crouch. at least you heard nothing crack. pain seers in your knees and legs, but you swallow it, forcing yourself to get up. the crevice was right there. you sprinted, jumping over a broken, rusty gate, ducking under wooden beams. your frame drops to the floor, hurriefly pushing yourself into the opening. there's little room to move, but you if you just wriggled into it close enough you could—

a squeal—your squeal—echoes around the ruins, feeling a strong grip wrapping around your ankle. you're dragged out from your last chance of escape, and carelessly flipped over to your back. you're caged between krauser’s familiar, built arms, and you wanted nothing more than to punch the shit-eating grin off his face. 

"caught you." 

his knees are keeping your legs apart whilst he hovered over your body. you're just as feisty and stubborn as he expected, watching you intently as you wriggled. "let go! let me go!" his muscular chest's hammered with weak, frenzied hits. "hey, hey—hey!" he's not hurting you, but god, you were pissing him off. "stop fucking squirming, you bratty little—hey!" it all happened so fast—a palm on your cheek, and his scarred lips pressed onto yours. this fucker's kissing you—and you, you're . . 

kissing him back, of course.

it's passionate, charged with frustration. his other hand collects both your wrists, pinning them up above your head. you bite his lip, and he only growls in response. you hated how you actually missed this idiot. missed how his lips devoured yours. missed how he practically shoved his tongue into your mouth. your lungs ached, and in mere seconds, you're out of breath; it's instinct to gasp for air, but you can't exactly do that mid-liplock. canting your head to the side, it's your best attempt in breaking the kiss. but krauser, he's persistent. he's chasing your mouth. starved, deprived of your pretty lips. 

blood rushes back to your dexterity as he frees your wrists. despite this, you don't wriggle. you don't even push him off. instead, your hands are yanking off his stupid beret, frantically undoing his tactical vest. krauser's none the wiser, breaking the kiss so he could raise his arms and toss away the garment. but he can't keep his hands off of you for more than a minute, and you feel him tugging on the edges of your compression shirt. your eyes widen. 

"no, don't fucking—!"

rrrrrriiip—!

⟡

the locality's echoing with your wanton cries, paired with krauser's grunts and the harsh plap! plap! plap! of your skins slapping against each other. "yeah, baby. i warned you, didn't i?" laughed krauser. "now here you are, getting fucked like a slut," his hips snapped against you harshly and cruelly. his eyes are only glued to your pretty face. a drooling, moaning mess. your clothes—what's left of them, anyways—are crumpled in your hand as the unwantedpleasure courses through you. 

your back doesn't even feel the discomfort of the ground, or the aches in your body as krauser fucked you. he had that effect—making you fucking stupid. you hated it. hated him. "fuck you," you managed to croak out, and krauser punishing you with mean, forceful thrusts. but your words don't phase him, not one bit. if anything, it made his cock twitch as he watched you squirm; watched your pretty cunt struggle to take him. it might be lack of foreplay, or might just be your imagination, but he feels bigger. thicker. veinier.

"what was that?"

he picks up the pace of his speed. from hard and fast to brutal and ferocious. the only words—comprehensible words—you could utter out was his name. "go on. what were you saying?" "fuuuck . .  f, fuck—!" your body arched, holding onto his biceps automatically. "hate you—hate you, jack. hate you," you say as your legs wrap around him. "i know, baby. i know you do," he cooed, groping one of your tits; feeling the pink nub rouse under the pads of his fingers.

the added sensation makes you shudder, goosebumps pricking your skin. "but i don't care," you wince as his fingers dig into your waist, sheathing himself to the hilt; he's so ridiculously deep, and you forgot just how he could easily make a visible bulge swell in your lower abdomen. fuck—the way your eyes widened almost makes him bust. 

"because," a hand clamps firmly over your mouth, and he starts to rut into you again. your moans are muted by his palm. "because—," seizing one leg, he drapes it up his shoulder closed the gap between your bodies. you tried to pry his hand away, but he only continues to ram your pretty pussy in response. "i know she loves me," now that you were effectively silenced, you could both hear the squelch of your creamy cunt better. "mhhf . . hff . . !" 

he takes pleasure in breaking you, especially when you make it too fucking easy. 

"you're so fucking messy. fuck," krauser feels his eyes wanting to roll back. but he can't miss this sight of you. not again. spit is leaking, smearing all over your chin.  but you can't help it, you poor thing—it just feels too fucking good. his cock's hitting all the right spots, your cervix—stretching you out so painfully good. his stamina was unmatched, too. he's built for this. for you. built to rearrange your insides, to fuck you stupid. "you seem awfully quiet, sweets. what's the matter?" you're pelvic to pelvic, no space left between your sweaty bodies. "jack got your tongue?"

krauser laughs at your pathetic, muffled whimpers whilst he fucked you. so adorable, submissive under his mercy, branded with his canines. he missed this. missed you. "keep running—umff . . that fucking . . bratty little mouth—hngg, fuck—of yours . . " your pelvis bucks against the roll of his hips; his warning punctuated with mind-numbing slams. "see where that gets you, huh?"  you're brimming with euphoria, because of him. your cunt's fucking quivering, because of him. you're long due to show him some gratitude.

a gasp escapes you when krauser finally retreats his hand from your mouth. as expected, it's covered in your saliva. a tight coil forms in your stomach, it's coming so quickly, and krauser knew from the moment you couldn't keep your hips still. "cumming? already?" you nodded pathetically, and krauser chuckles at the stupefied look on your face. you're starting to feel lightheaded. dizzy. the pleasure is overwhelming and ridiculously addictive. your orgasm was right there, just a few more snapping of his hips and then you'll be —

your eyes—which you hadn't realized were closed—had just flashed open, as an obnoxious and familiar ring reverberates in the area. beside you, actually.

shit.

"oh?"

shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit—

clarity fills that emptying head of yours, and you slap his arm in panic. your radio was within an arm's reach. within krauser's reach, and a mischievous grin finds its way onto krauser's handsome face. your orgasm quickly dies down, and you whined, squirming yet feeling your cunt spasm. your body had a knack for bertraying you, huh? 

"let's give this rookie a little show, shall we?"

"no, no, don't—!"

you don't see where krauser positions the radio, and you don't wanna know. you needed to get your head back in the game, and get this big brute off of y—

"y/n!? y/n, are you there?!"

both your legs are now in krauser’s hold, and you tried to squirm when he pressed the second one to your chest, too. “leo—ooooh—♡!?” your voice fails you, as krauser begins to pummel into you again. “don’t you fucking dare,” krauser locks you in place, his body pinning your legs up and securing you in a mean mating press. you recognize that look on his face—angry. possessive. "jack, wait, wai—!" 

he wastes no seconds in fucking you hard, ensuring the head of his cock’s grazing over that sensitive, spongy nub again and again. your eyes are rolling back, and you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. "she's busy, leon. can't you hear that?" krauser gruffly coos, fucking you ferociously. the speed his hips are going—it's inhuman. you can barely stay lucid. 

“what’re you doing to her?! if you've hurt her, i swear to—!"

humiliation seeps through your body as you couldn't control your whimpers. leon could hear it. hell, everyone could hear it. "hurt? bitch please, rookie. listen to her," krauser shuts up for a moment, highlighting your mewls. "does she sound hurt to you? c'mon, sweets. tell him," you feel him cage your head with his arms, face buried in the crook of your neck and effectively trapping you. he's hitting deeper—you don't know how, but he does—the tip nudging at your womb again and again.

“oh god—oh god," you sobbed, holding on to the blonde; his skin decorated with your claws. "he's . . he's not hurting— not hurting me," krauser lets out a feral groan, feeling your leaking pussy twitch. "you're tightening up, babe. didn't know you were into . . ah . . hnngg—. . fuck . . something like this," krauser feels his own spit dribble down his chin. he could feel every ounce of his weariness, especially in his hips, but fuck—the pleasure that you gave him made up for all the wrong things in the world.  

"y/n, i'll be right there, i'll find you, i promise."

no . . no. he can't. leon can't take you away from him. 

the thrusts that followed became hateful. he fucked you like he hated you. "tell him—tell him to leave you," he growled. "now. or i won't make you fucking cum," you squealed when his teeth sink into your skin. it's unfair that he expects that from you! "n, no—, please . . " you managed to utter out. "just go, please . . oh, fuck—?!" you feel the exact moment when krauser finally bullies his tip past the tender barrier flesh of your cervix. krauser lets out a guttural sound, a shiver running down his back as his orgasm comes ridiculously close.

"just let her go, krauser!"

krauser only laughs in between heavy panting, tilting his head up so his voice would be more audible. "let her go?" krauser cradled your face, a thumb tracing the edges of your glistening lips. "you can't let go of someone who doesn't want to leave," 'specially when his cock's splitting you open so so good! you can't get enough of him . . god, your pussy's fuckin' clenchin' down on him so fucking nicely. 

"y/n, if you can hear me—don't let him break you!"

leon's become irrelevant to you, in your stupefied state. the only thing that mattered was krauser—this cock stretching you. krauser clicked his tongue. "did y'hear that, baby? or are you too fucking cockdrunk to even hear him?" "a, aaahn . . ♡ w, what?"  you didn't even register leon's voice, not when krauser did everything he could to successfully fuck you stupid. thinking was difficult—'specially when it's easier to just let your mouth run. when it's just easier to moan, to let your cunt take all of him as he pounded you in a crazed manner. it was so easy to slip in and slide out of you, easy to coax out such beautiful noises despite how uncouth you are.

the coil in krauser's stomach jus' keeps tightening and tightening. he's sloppier with the pistoning of his hips, but he needs to cum. needs to fucking creampie you. and he can feel it too, with how much your pretty cunt's pulsating around him. how your moans have picked up in pitch. "gonna cum, slut?" he whispered. you nodded vigorously. "do you deserve it, huh?" he whispered in your ear. 

"yes—! yes, god . . please. pleasepleaseplease—wanna cum," it was impossible to buck your hips, but if you could, you damn well would. "gonna . . argh . . gonna let me cum inside you, y/n?" sweat drips from krauser's forehead, feeling his own release creeping in. "yes! yes—yes, please. jus' need to cum. please, please,♡ . ." you dumbly plead, krauser realizes that you'll just about do anythin' as long as you get to cum—much to his glee.

"you're real nasty, sweets. askin' the enemy to fuckin' fill you up," 

just a few more thrusts and you'll be spritzin' your filthy juices on him. but his thrusts come to a complete halt, all of his girth in you and stuffing you completely full as ropes of his thick, warm cum floods your womb. it automatically spills, overflowing and leaking from your creampied cunt, droplets of white slowly oozing out and dripping to your ass.  "y/n . . y/n . . please—fuck . . love your cunt. love you . . " krauser's mindlessly babbling. "go 'head, cum for me, c'mooooon . . fuck, fuck!" 

overstimulation makes him quiver, makes him whine. but he needs you to cum, needs you to squirt for him and rub in leon's face his victory. "h, haaahh . . 'm cumming. fuckfuckfuckfuck— oh god—♡!" he feels how your cunt's spasmin' for him, how you're gushing all over him and soaking him with your juices. krauser brings his lips to yours, kissing you as he helps you ride out your high. you were barely kissing him back, the best you can do was suck on his tongue in your fucked out state. "mhff . . " he hummed, lazily devouring your mouth. 

krauser grinned against the kiss, letting your legs down and rest on his sides; and krauser chuckles when he sees how they were visibly shaking. you whine when he slowly slips out from your cunt, and he can't help but admire the mess he made out of you. your gaping hole, twitching whilst cum slowly dripped out . . it's as beautiful as he remembers it. weariness is taking a toll on you, and you can no longer control how your eyes are slowly fluttering shut. the rest is a blur, and you only hear leon's voice echo in your ears. 

"don't worry, y/n! i'm coming for you!"

wondering why it became so cold all of a sudden, you open your eyes. krauser's lifted himself away from your writhing form. you watch him crush the walkie with just his hand, a soft crunch filling the silence before he lets its pieces clatter on the floor. "rookie's wasting his time," he laments, crouching over you and stroking your cheek.

"you're not goin' anywhere. gonna take good care of you, y/n."

extended ending:

"the tracker said she should be right . . "

lifting his gaze from his watch, leon climbs over a broken, rusted gate. 

"here."

but no you. just the shredded fabric of your shirt and what remains of your walkie. "you sure? that doesn't look like our amiga," luis crouches over to pick something up. first, the shredded cloth. second, a red, blinking something. "ella no está aquí. i'm sorry, leon," leon snatches it out of luis's hand. [ she's not here. i'm sorry, leon. ] "dammit!"

in the distance is the familiar thrumming sound of a helicopter and its blades, disturbing the silence and the stillness as they both feel the rumbling in the ground. both men wordlessly and hurriedly sprint towards the direction of the chopper, jumping over collapsed beams and debris, and it didn't take long for them to spot the familiar, muscular build of the former military man. his back was adorned with red scratches and of course, you—specifically your arms—as you draped limply on his shoulder. 

"krauser!"

krauser turns, looking over his unoccupied shoulder with the most bored look on his face. "you never quit, do you?" he scoffed, observing leon's movement closely. before he could draw his gun, krauser's already tossing over a flash grenade, and its detached pin with it. leon and luis shield their eyes as the flash temporarily disorients them both.

"you won't get away with this!" 

"oh, but i will. besides, she's better off with me,"

by the time they had composed themselves, the chopper's flying off—and you with it.

end. 

dedicated to: @gremlinfuck A/N: sorry if it's not how you envisioned itfskjdskfjsdkjf . i'm sorry TT

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Rogue Prince and the Privy

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x f!reader (niece) Warnings: Crack fic. Incest, but honestly that's the least of your worries. Mentions of shitting and breaking wind. Sex on the toilet. Smut. Word count: ~750

Summary: Daemon feels amorous while using the privy.

Author's note: A request from my boo-bear @em-writes-stuff-sometimes that also doubles up as a belated birthday gift. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EM! This is a crack fic - please don't read if you are easily offended. Community labels are for cops. No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

The call of her name echoing along the vast expanse of the corridor beckons her forth. Her uncle turned husband is summoning her and, as a dutiful wife should, she heeds his every command.

Following the sound of Daemon’s voice, her brow wrinkles in confusion when she reaches the privy.

Surely he cannot be calling to me from here?

“Kepa?” She asks with uncertainty. “Are you in there? Should I wait until you are finished?”

“No, no, sweetling,” comes Daemon’s voice from behind the closed wooden door, “you are fine to come in.”

She hesitates for a moment longer, but then reaches for the iron ring pull handle. He would not call her in if anything indecent were occurring.

Upon opening the door, the smell greets her first, causing her to take an involuntary step back, her eyes watering as she clasps a hand over her mouth to stifle her retching. The stench is ripe; a combination of the eggy scent she has only ever experienced before in the depths of the Dragon Pit, and the musk that skinned animals on hunts carry when they have been left out for too long in the sun.

Keeping a hand clasped firmly over nose and mouth, Daemon comes into view once her vision clears. He sits upon the privy, breeches around his ankles and a smug smile upon his face. Most shocking of all, however, is how proudly he grasps his hardened cock.

“Come, sit on my lap, sweet girl,” he coos to her, and her eyes widen in horror.

“B–but, Daemon, it…it smells in here,” she tries to protest.

He chuckles drily. “I know. I have been here for quite some time. Last night’s feast has been a tricky one to shift, so I require the aid of my lovely wife to aid in passing the time, while I pass this hog roast.”

Her hand falls away from her face, her jaw slackening in disbelief.

Surely he does not mean to couple with her while he defecates?

“You are shitting, I don’t want to,” she whines.

He keeps a firm hold of his erection, and narrows his eyes. “I saw you shit the bed while you were giving birth. I continue to sleep in that bed, to fuck you in it. How is this any different?”

“The sheets have been washed…” she says meekly, her gaze downcast. She knows she is fighting a losing battle. Daemon will have his way, he always does.

“It is a wife’s duty to obey her husband, especially when he is a Targaryen Prince,” he tells her matter of factly.

There it is. He has me bested. 

She sighs, lifting her skirts to remove her small clothes, before moving forward to straddle him. Her knees rest on the wooden bench either side of him, his ample backside pushed around the hole on which he sits.

Holding her breath, she tries not to think too much about what could possibly be coming out the back of him as she lowers herself onto him, wincing slightly at the stretch of his intrusion of her body.

He grabs forcefully at her hips, accelerating her movements as she bounces against him, and she is unsure of whether the grunts and groans that fan hotly against her ear are as a result of the pleasure he is taking from her body, or the relief of what he is forcing out of it.

She cringes when she hears something drop faintly into the opening beneath them, muffled by the sound of their intermingled panting and the slapping of her buttocks against his thighs.

Burying her face in his neck, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for support as he continues to move her against him, until eventually the telltale pulsating of Daemon’s manhood inside of her alerts her to his rapidly approaching climax.

When he peaks it is with a long, drawn out groan, accompanied by a loud, rasping expulsion of air that echoes into the privy underneath him. She shudders in disgust at his sudden breaking of wind, feeling the warmth of his seed begin to drip out of her.

“There’s a good girl.” Daemon murmurs softly, lightly swatting her outer thigh. “Get yourself cleaned up and then you can come back and help me to do the same.”

She freezes in utter shock as his softening member slips from her.

He wants me to wipe his arse too.

[constantcrisis19]

Home

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I don't normally write smut, but things do get a little heated in this particular fic, so... enjoy the treat I guess, lol. Though, that being said, I can't say that adding smut is going to be something that I’ll do often, but on the off-chance that it does, I'll be sure to tag properly just to make sure that I don't catch anyone off guard. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,544

Main Page

You had just started on wiping the dust off of the kitchen countertops when you heard the shrill squeak of the front door opening, intentionally left unoiled to act as an alert for uninvited visitors. You and Ghost had installed a proper security system of course, but it didn’t hurt to do things the old fashioned way either. 

The flat that the two of you stayed at while on leave was modest, rented mostly because there was a fire escape outside the living room window and another window had a good view of the entrance to the building.

So Ghost would often occupy himself by watching the door when he couldn’t manage to sleep, tormented by memories of things he wouldn’t speak of. But he didn’t keep pieces of his past from you out of distrust. 

He refrained because, by the time he’d finished telling you about how he’d been betrayed by his CO and was tortured for months as a result, you were in tears at the pain and suffering that the love of your life had endured, despite your best attempts to be strong and keep the tears at bay as you listened.

Though, it seemed that Ghost didn’t really mind that you were crying instead of being the solid support that he deserved and could lean on while recounting something so horrible, the man simply pulling you into his arms and sitting down right there on the floor while holding you close.

He never brought it up again and you were hesitant to ask if he wanted to talk about it since you had reacted so poorly to just one of the many horrors that he had survived, especially for a soldier that was chosen to be on the most elite task forces that the British military had to offer. 

In your defense, you had been on leave -in this very flat, actually- when that disaster of a conversation happened, miles away from work and allowed to be human for a few weeks. So you had made no attempt at suppressing the onslaught of emotions that had torn through you like a bullet, leaving a gaping mess of grief in its wake.

You were dragged out of your somber reminiscing when your ears picked up on the crinkle of weighted grocery bags as they were set onto the small kitchen table for two, followed by the nearly inaudible tap of Ghost’s worn black combat boots drawing closer to your turned back. 

You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped cleaning -just blankly staring down at the damp rag being strangled in your grip- until one of Ghost’s hands tentatively settled on your back, his warm touch grounding.

“Solid, love?” He asked, his pleasantly raspy voice having dropped to a low timbre that was gentle and reassuring all at once.

“Yeah, sorry. Got lost in my head for a minute.” You sighed, leaning into the contact with a slow inhale, your attempt at controlled breathing rendered useless when your exhale turned into a soft huff of laughter as soon as you felt Ghost press his scarred lips to the back of your neck in a fleeting kiss that made your chest ache with affection.

You found yourself awfully tempted to turn around and kiss that reverent mouth until neither of you could think of anything beyond finding the bed but, before you got the chance to act on that particular desire, the hand that was on your back suddenly slid down to your hip and pulled you backward as he simultaneously stepped forward in order to crowd up behind you, his body a solid wall of muscle.

"You're a menace, Simon. I never get anything done when we're on leave because you try to get into my pants every five minutes." You laughed good-naturedly, your hands reaching behind you to grip the back of his thighs, just under his deliciously round ass.

“Don’t know what you’re on about. I’m just comforting you, you’re the one copping a feel.” Ghost retorted dryly, though there was a noticeable heat to his tone now, his short stubble scratching against your skin as he nuzzled the back of your neck.

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you? I can feel your dick begging for attention, Simon.” You deadpanned, your brow raising as you leveled an unimpressed look at the cabinets directly in front of you, knowing full well that Simon would know exactly what expression was on your face despite not being able to see it.

Lord knew that he had gotten that exact same look from you enough times to have it memorized. 

“Well don’t start neglecting it now.” Ghost grunted with a particularly dirty grind of his hips and you tightened the grip that you had around the back of his thigh, heat pooling in your gut as your lips parted on a silent gasp. 

You could feel Ghost smile against the sensitive skin behind your ear -the smug bastard- and just for his cheeky attitude, you decided to be petty and play hard to get. You allowed Simon to do as he wished for another minute or two before turning in Simon’s grip in order to face the man, who had immediately loosened his hold the moment that you began to move.

“Get off me, you slag. I have to finish cleaning the kitchen before we can cook.” You stated as you met his questioning gaze, the man staring at you blankly for a moment as he processed your words, his eyes darkening when he finally caught onto your scheme.

“Slag? Must be rubbing off on you.” Ghost said with a low chuckle that never failed to send a bolt of pleasure down your spine and, going by the amused twinkle in Simon’s eye, he knew exactly what his voice did to you and was shamelessly using it to his advantage. 

You resisted the urge to squirm under his calculating gaze, since that would mean losing this little game that the two of you were playing, as the man’s fingers teasingly brushed over the slip of skin visible where the hem of your shirt came untucked from your jeans.

“Not yet, you’re not.” You mused with a wicked grin as your hand darted down to catch his wrist before his fingers could slip up under your shirt. You traced the delicate blue lines crisscrossing under the thin, pale skin of his inner wrist with your thumb, your smile reaching shit-eating levels when Simon’s breathing visibly became more labored, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you like you were the sole object of his desire.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost murmured breathlessly, the fingers of his free hand twitching like he wanted to grab you and pin you up against the nearest flat surface, and you didn’t bother repressing the smug grin that spread across your lips as you watched every individual thought that went through his head, every sinful things that he wanted to do to you clearly advertised on his maskless face. 

Simon really wasn’t as hard to read as he wanted people to believe, he was actually quite easy once the mask was off. So while Simon greatly enjoyed when you were rough with him, easily following your lead as you manhandled the man where you wanted him with a firm grip, more tender and reverent contact always had more of an effect on him.

“You love it, you insatiable bastard.” You said with a laugh, Simon leaning forward in order to rest his forehead against yours and you didn’t hesitate to curl an encouraging hand around the back of his neck, letting him have a moment to collect himself since you felt pretty bad for teasing him when you weren’t able to follow through right away.

“Yeah.” Simon admitted quietly, his tone openly affectionate as he tilted his head in order to draw you into a kiss. Words were no longer necessary since the press of his lips told you everything you already knew, the heat that had been bubbling up between the two of you easing as the intense bout of lust that came from your mutual flirting transitioned into something softer, slower.

You were the first to break the kiss when the lack of oxygen made your lungs burn, though you didn’t go far, choosing to instead linger in his personal space. Your nose brushed against his as you basked in the euphoria that came with being with Simon, each of your breaths mingling with his in the small space between the two of you, creating a sort of peaceful bubble where only the two of you existed.

“Didn’t you have some pressing matter to attend to?” Simon’s voice pierced through the quiet and you startled, flinching a bit as you sobered from the trance you had been in, before the words registered and you leaned away in order to scowl at your grinning husband.

“Very funny, Simon.” You said with a fond roll of your eyes, giving his solid chest a friendly pat before finally prying yourself out of his grasp, turning on your heel and making your way back to the kitchen in order to finish what you’d been doing before you got distracted.

_

Home

A place where I can go

To take this off my shoulders

Someone take me home

Home - Bebe Rexha, Machine Gun Kelly, and X Ambassadors

[greetingfromthedead]

Die with You (Vash x GN!Reader)

Plot: Vash wakes up from a nightmare about the world ending, comforted by your presence in his arms, but little does he know then that his world would end soon enough. Series: None Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader Rating: Teen + Tags: No use of "Y/N", Established Relationship, Slight Fluff, Hurt / Comfort /More Hurt, Angst, Character Death, Cuddling, Crying, Nightmares, Loss, Grief, works with every very version of Vash. Word count: 0.8k

Vash strokes gently over your hair, his large hand cupping the back of your head as he inches closer, to nuzzle his nose into the messy strands. His nostrils are filled with the familiar scent that puts his heart at ease and brings him back into reality. The pounding in his chest slows down just as you stir from your sleep.

"Vash?" Your sleepy voice pipes up, muffled by his body and the blanket draped over both of you.

"Sorry, my love, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep." He speaks softly, his tight embrace keeping you close. You snuggle into his chest, feeling the warmth and security of his love surrounding you.

"Why are you awake? Did you have a nightmare again?" you ask, concern evident in your voice.

"Maybe. Don't worry," Vash speaks through the darkness of the little room. His eyes are closed, picturing your smile in his mind.

"Tell me," you whisper, and let your fingers trace along his back. He relaxes under your touch.

"I…" Vash hesitates but continues anyway: "I had a dream that the world was ending. The sky was painted crimson like spilled blood as it fell down in fiery waves. I watched heavens collide before me. I watched the chaos unfold with a heavy heart, feeling powerless against the impending destruction. I was so scared. Scared I wouldn't see you again as the world crumbled around me."

"Oh, Vash," you sigh and hug him, pressing your face into his chest where you can hear the beating of his tender heart.

"And I still think about that horror. What if the world dies with the ruby sunrise?" His quiet and hoarse voice cracks as he falls silent.

"Then we will die in each other's arms, and I will be happy to spend my last moments looking into your blue eyes, knowing that I am loved until the very end," you respond, your hand creeping to his cheek to tenderly caress it. "And that is all I could ever ask for."

"Wouldn't you want more time?" Vash asks, his breath moving a few stray hairs on your forehead, leaving behind a tickling sensation.

"Tomorrow or a hundred years from now, it doesn't matter. I will be immortal as long as you live; I will always die with you. And that is enough."

Vash curls up on the bed, clinging on to the bedsheets he forbids anyone else to touch. It still smells of you. The faint fragrance of your hair lingers on the pillowcase and the white cotton under his body. The familiar scent puts his heart at ease and allows him to dream of a reality less cruel than this one. A world where you are still by his side.

He has stayed here longer than he had planned. Longer than he should. Yet he cannot bring himself to leave, not when he can still feel your presence lingering in every corner of this run down little hotel room. Not when he can still hear your laughter echoing through the empty walls. Not as long as he can pretend that you are still in his arms if he shuts his eyes tight enough.

It wasn't a blood red sunrise that brought Vash's world to an end. It was the simple silence that followed the gunshot that took your life. It was an accident; there was no malice, no revenge, or anger to poison the wound in your chest. It was a kid who played with a loaded gun. Vash didn't sense the danger, didn't suspect that his life was about to shatter. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The sky came crashing down on the crimson backdrop of your pooling blood as you looked into his eyes. Your tender gaze will haunt him for the rest of his days. A slight smile lingered on your lips as Vash held you in his arms. The ragged sound of your last breath will be etched in his memory forever.

Another sob escapes Vash's body as he curls up further, muffled by the tear-soaked pillow. He remembers the butterflies in his stomach so vividly, the way they came to life the first time he met you. How they continued to flutter every moment he spent with you. Now they are a heavy weight in his guts, a dead mass of lead bugs. The love he carries for you in his heart has nowhere left to go, making it feel like it's slowly suffocating him from the inside out. He knows what you meant when you said you will die with him no matter what. He carries the memories, the affection, and a heart that beats for you. But a part of him died with you and is now buried in the desert sand with your bones. A part that can never be replaced.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

[twstbookclub]

Hide and Seek

Summary: A game of hide and seek with Floyd goes terribly wrong. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Cat 🐈 Tags: Fluff, Comedy, Slight Horror, Romantic and/or Platonic

Word Count: 654

Running with bated breath, as the sound of laughter rang down the hall, why in the world did you think it was a good idea to mess with Floyd? Of all the things you could have done. Did you seriously have a death wish? Sadly, you would need to process your life choices later. He was approaching rapidly. Damn him and his long legs! 

As you were sprinting you noticed the door near the end of the hall. “Azul’s office. Not the ideal choice, but it will have to do for now,” you mumbled while opening the door and slamming it shut. Your breathing was unstable as you panted against the frame.

Looking up from his desk, Azul stares at you with a puzzled look. Setting his pen down, he sighs, “What did you do this time? And does it involve another overblot?”

“Oh shut up! ….. I don't think it's- just help me out and I’ll do whatever ya want.”

Humming, Azul nodded over to the desk, “If it’s Jade, I wish you luck, but if it’s Floyd you may get under the desk. I expect you to work a full week’s worth of shifts for this whole ordeal.”

It didn’t take you long to respond, I mean come on it’s practically a get-out-of-jail-free card. “Deal! Just don’t put me with the twins,” you pleaded while dashing under the desk.

Chuckling Azul picked up his pen, “No promises. After all, you did say whatever I pleased.”

Mentally facepalming at your choice of words, your breath immediately halts as you hear that damn sound. “Oh Shrimpy, I know you’re here somewhere,” Floyd said with his signature laugh as he slams open the door, “Come out, come out, wherever you are~”

“You break it, you pay it,” Azul warned, not even batting an eye at the eel.

“Aww, you’re no fun Azul,” He whined while looking around, “Now where’s Shrimpy? I know I saw them come in here.”

“Is that so? They must have passed by me then,” Azul stated, before gesturing to his paperwork, “After all, I’ve been swamped by paperwork.”

Floyd stared at Azul, his smile now fully gone from his face. Suddenly the paperwork was darker due to the shadow of a six-foot-three body structure of an eel, slouching and hovering over Azul's desk.

As if being able to feel Floyd’s stare, Azul tapped his pen twice on the desk. A small muscle spasm hit his hand due to nerves, and a small stain of sweat went down his sideburn. “Though feel free to look wherever you please. Just don’t make too much of a mess.”

Almost immediately you see the eel snake around the desk, a huge smile plastered across his face. You couldn’t help but feel your heart rate increase as you watch him. He was moving almost lethargic as he explored the room.

Something was off, you just couldn’t tell what.

That was until Floyd turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. That damn octopus! “There you are, Shrimpy! Come here so I can squeeze ya~” Floyd stated happily while making grabby hands at you.

“You damn octopus! You ratted me out didn’t you!” You yelled at the man above you as Floyd started reaching for you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I expect to see you here tomorrow, and Floyd?" Azul finally glanced from the stack of papers and having a clear petty smile on his face, "Don’t break them. I need them in peak condition for their shifts."

Before you could respond Floyd grabbed you and pulled you out from under the desk. Almost instantaneously and effortlessly you were being picked up and squeezed by him. “Hehehe, I got you now my Shrimpy♡!~”

Azul goes back to the paperwork as Floyd leaves the office "Noon sharp!" Floyd without hesitation responds "No promises!~"

"Azul Ashengrotto what the FUCK!!" you scream as it reverberates down the hall.

[art-sicordial]

Supporter Content, Patreon vs Ko-fi

TL:DR I'm going to keep using Patreon as a primary support platform until it's unusable but Ko-fi will be available to those who prefer it, just be aware that some content may be censored there or may be missing entirely.

Patreon had been making changes recently (well, really the past couple years) that have made them less appealing as a platform to use for both creators and potential supporters. I would like to use Ko-fi as a secondary support method for people that would prefer that platform and for myself to have an alternative. I am a bit hesitant to use Ko-fi as I'm worried that some of the comic's content just isn't suitable for the platform, this was something I weighed two years ago when I originally chose Patreon over Ko-fi. I am creating horror content and payment processors hate violence and nudity.

I'd prefer to not end up having to tag my Ko-fi page as adult like I did for my Patreon as I'm also looking at moving my Etsy store offerings over to Ko-fi. That's the big reason why I'm treading extra carefully. So I'm working things out, here are my current musings, I'm super open to feedback and suggestions:

Tiers: I'm going to do one solid tier for Ko-fi, $5 a month and you'll get supporter content. Hell I might even give my Patreon's $3 tier the axe to make everything roughly equivalent, no one is tier 1 anyway.

Exclusive Illustrations: I'm in the process of putting up Patreon exclusive illustrations on Ko-fi for monthly supporters. The only one I don't think I'll put up is the one from this past year of Ada in a bath filled with blood, I think that's going to have to stay on Patreon or I'll make a Ko-fi friendly version lol.

In progress chapter updates: I think I'll feel comfortable posting pages without any gore, violence, nudity, suggestive content, etc. But pages containing that may need to be cropped and censored. I think ambient body horror (like the wall meat Just Hanging Around) should be fine. I will start with making chapter 9's work in progress pages available this week.

Making chapters available to supporters first: I think I should be okay if I make itch.io download keys available in a Ko-fi post. Once again, I'm trying to be as careful as possible and itch.io has always felt like a very safe way for me to post my Meat Horror Comic About Bodies, Gender, and Sexuality. I think that'll be the compromise as opposed to Patreon just getting the downloadable file.

So that's the general idea, I'm going to try to keep them as similar as possible, just with Ko-fi's offerings being more censored than Patreon's, which I dislike doing but once again I'm treading carefully, I'm a very small creator and every bit of revenue I get at this point is a big deal for me, literally every little thing counts.

Anyway my Patreon is here and my Ko-fi is here if you're interested, thanks for reading.

[seeking-elsewhither]

For sentence starters ask, 5 for Angst!

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!

You know, this ask actually made me finish something that I started. Kind of like homework, if homework had no due date and no pressure and was about something you actually liked writing about. I always suspected asks would get me to write stuff more.

Anyways, as promised, this is another scene from Project Throne that I wrote in the span of two days. Tagging @hiddenvioletsgrow and @igotthisaccountunderduress as asked.

Don't hesitate to ask any questions. And feel free to drop comments. Once again ignore the accuracy of the following events. I liked this one because I rarely have these characters handling heavier topics. Hope you enjoy it!

And thank you for taking the time to read it!

In Enemy Dungeons

“Wake up! Please wake up!” The whispered words travel across Teraino’s hazy mind. His eyes are heavy with sleep, and the world is yet shadowed, he can tell. So why was he being asked to return to the realm of consciousness if the sun has not yet shown face?

He does not hold himself to the arduous task of waking up, therefore; rather, he lets himself drift away, back into the void, back into the alluring nothing of sleep.

Until he is shaken violently by the arm. “Teraino, please. Please wake up, please, you must wake up!”

“What…” He pulls his eyes open, before they fall shut, so he stretches them open once more, blinking at the dimness and rubbing his face.

He will always recognize his twin’s voice, he will always answer to it, it is an unspoken oath between them. “Glanweth.” She crouches closer to him, covering him in her shadow.

At last, he opens his eyes completely. In the dim torchlight of the dungeons, he can see her despairing features, framed by her hair disarrayed about her grimed face. He is certain he looks no better.

She helps him as he slowly levers himself upwards and comes to lean against the wall, groaning a little from the effort. His body aches with the bruises he has received and he can taste the sourness of blood in his mouth. Glanweth waits, watching him earnestly, her fingers digging into his arm, daring not to speak a word.

He covers her hands with his —

only to pause and look down.

Ah. Now does he remember what had rendered him unconscious. He remembers the kicks and the blows. He remembers the cruel eyes and loud voices.

He remembers the agony of losing his smallest finger.

He raises his four-fingered hand and considers its oddness, bile burning his throat as it rises into the back of his mouth. There is a cloth tied clumsily around it, covering the stump and stained with blood. He reaches to unravel it, his vile curiosity getting the better of him.

“Don’t!” Glanweth stops him, clutching his left hand. They stare at each other, a hundred emotions clouding their features. There is an unspoken sorrow between them which threatens to sever their bond. But she swallows thickly, and a fresh wave of grief overcomes them. “I—wrapping your hand: it proved to be a difficult task. I—I doubt, I shall be able to—redo it.”

He thinks he will be sick. That his little sister had to bind his wounds — that is horror enough to make the bravest among them sick in the stomach. He squeezes her hand which clasps his own — but it feels strange and wrongly built.

With beating heart, he counts her fingers: the greatest, the forefinger, the arrow, the hindfinger and —

he feels the texture of cloth over the final knuckle, where the little finger ought to have been. At the same time, she inhales sharply, a shuddering breath. “Do not press it. It is still tender, the wound.”

He will make a mess of the floor beside him, he is certain. And what shall his captors do, cut off another finger?

The thought makes him laugh, and he laughs with the eagerness of a madman. He laughs so fiercely his sides begin to ache, and he laughs into his palms a crazed and hiccoughing laughter.

“Ter?” comes Glanweth’s voice, small and frightened, like when she used to hide her face in his shoulder at the sound of the drums of thunderstorms. Still shaking with laughter, he watches her whose eyes are wide with worry for his state. Even in his hysteria, she has not let go of him, clutching him even tighter instead. His bitter mirth is spent; now he weeps.

“Glanweth,” His sister, his dear sister, who is one half of him in soul. He gently cradles her hand, four-fingered as his own, bowing over it as his tears wet the cloth. He looks up at her face, he sees her glinting eyes, so brave, so fearful, and he mourns for the cruelty that has been dealt her. “Had I known, Glan, had I known that they would behave so dishonorably — I had hoped they would not touch you. It is why I gave myself so willingly into their power. I had prayed that they should spare you if I did not strive against them. My prayers seem to be in vain, and I am sorry for it, Glan. Alfar, I am sorry I could not protect you as I should have.” He sobs then, holding her hand, holding her close and away from the ruthless world.

“How noble of you. How foolishly noble.” The tears are streaming down her face, there is pain outlining her tremulous features. “But you are my brother, and we are bound by blood and time. Think you that you should face such torment alone? That I would let you face it without me? Teraino, nothing shall bar us from each other; never shall I permit it.”

He holds her just as she holds him, he hides in her embrace; no words of comfort can he offer her, they would only be empty promises. In quiet dread, he speaks, “What mad circumstance have we fallen into, Glanweth, that such terrible words should escape your heart?”

[leadthemtoparadise]

Emperor's Choice

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Relationships: Paul Atreides/Original Female Character(s), Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen/Original Female Character(s), Paul Atreides/Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Tags: Angst, Dark, Slavery, Sexual Slavery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied Mind Rape, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Gore, Body Horror, Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Torture, Dark Paul Atreides, Manipulative Paul Atreides, Protective Paul Atreides, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Is His Own Warning, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Description: Paul Muad'Dib Atreides was dead set on carving a path for himself in the universe, to mold everything to his taste, and she was no exception. He took what he wanted, who he wanted, when he wanted. She had no choice but to comply. To resist meant to die.

Word count: 5k

Note: Hope you took those warnings seriously. 💀

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. ⬇️

He sat her on the edge of his own bed and motioned at the tray on the small table beside her.

"Eat."

She looked indecisive again. She hesitated as she glanced at the tray. Why couldn't he understand that despite the fact that she had two masters, she had to obey both of them - and that their orders were opposite from one another now? She tried to decide who was more frightening out of the two. She bit her lower lip and chanced a look at Paul who decided to crouch in front of her.

"I am unsure how much should I eat, master."

Her curious, cautious sentence made him furrow his brows. He was, without a doubt, a very handsome man; perhaps in another universe, she would've seen only the good side of him.

"As much as you can."

As much as you can – well, that left her puzzled. In his presence, her stomach shrunk to the size of her fist. It did not help that she didn't want to screw this up, but she couldn't properly do as she was told. Her hands twitched in her lap where they rested.

Seeing her impassivity, Paul realised that this would be harder than he thought. His lips formed a thin line as he furrowed his brows further, truly resembling a hawk focusing on his prey.

"Tell me why you're not obeying me."

He ordered now, no, demanded an answer, immediately, and Paul felt a twinge of guilt when the colour left her face – but it soon faded when she started to shake her head in distress. Paul reached up to cup her cheeks, the sudden motion making her twitch and squeak. A part of him felt horrible for making her feel so scared.

"What is it, angel? Tell me. Don't be afraid." He gently kissed her forehead and he felt her hot tears rolling down against his fingers. "Hey, hey", he pulled away, looking in her eyes as he stroked her tears away. "Everything is alright. I won't hurt you, there's no wrong answer to my question. Tell me the truth."

The truth! That was so easy to command when he had made it very clear that he did not like knowing she only ate once that day! Why did those who owned her require the complete opposite from her?

"I'm- I can only eat once a day, master."

"I see." Paul's voice dropped a bit, then he slowly inhaled and exhaled as he used his learned techniques to calm himself down. He'd have a few words with Feyd-Rautha about this. "Do you understand that I am his equal?"

Her brows twitched slightly.

"Yes, master."

"Good. So, following that logic, that I am his equal, because we're both Emperors and we both own you – I can overwrite his rules, isn't that right?"

Paul watched as her terror induced mind was trying to accept what he was saying. He could see, thanks to his Mentat training, that she was trying her best to be as good for him as possible. That gave him a sliver of hope. She was not completely lost.

"I think so, yes, master", she murmured indecisively.

"Alright. Then forget his stupid rule. You're eating three times a day, and you're going to eat all of it, right now."

Paul waited, and she eyed the tray again, still hesitating. What in the sands did Feyd-Rautha promise he'd do to her if she broke this rule? He could imagine, although, he really did not wish to. After hesitating for a few more seconds, she reached out for the tray and moved it in her lap.

All of it.

Having consumed mostly bland foods in the past few days, the fruits and vegetables beside the fresh bread and cheese looked a lot for her. She wasn't sure she'd be able to eat all of that – but the 'all of it' sounded very specific. Really – all of it?

Another beauty of her training was that she was not allowed to ask questions, and Paul did not say anything about that rule. Frankly, he probably didn't even know about it. So she didn't ask. Just ate.

She did not stop, not even when the second half of the food made her feel nauseous. She did not look in his eyes as she did as she was told, but tears helplessly gathered in her eyes when she saw just how much more she was supposed to send down.

Paul observed her as she finally started to eat. He tilted his head to the right as tears gathered in her eyes. What was this, now? Didn't she feel relief that she was finally allowed to have good quality food? Her body must've been low on vitamins and necessary nutrients. He could recall that every breath she took earlier that evening allowed him see her ribs. Paul remembered the way she was forced to stand on her tiptoes, pulling every muscle in her body tight; the way she drew breath after breath to scream, even during the pauses between the lashes that landed on the most sensitive parts of her body.

That wasn't just a lesson for her.

Now, again, he wondered if he had any chances to quit this situation. He didn't want to be what he had to be, and he wanted his union with Feyd-Rautha even less. He recalled what Gurney told him once: that Harkonnens were brutal, in every sense of the word.

But the truth was... he was Harkonnen, too. Did that mean that a part of him enjoyed watching her suffer? She had served the Princess Irulan, and ultimately, the Emperor. Why should he even feel bad for not intervening when Feyd-Rautha dished out so much pain to her? She must've been loyal to the Imperium if she could wriggle herself so high, from a servant's viewpoint… being the handmaiden of the daughter of the Emperor surely brought priviliges… but they couldn't really know, as everyone else from the Emperor's court was dead.

He swallowed now as he brought himself back to the present, and he silently watched her as she was silently crying. He noticed that now every bite was a visible struggle, but she did not stop. Was it him now who tormented her? He wasn't even aware he was doing it.

"What's the matter?" He murmured, his quiet voice making her flinch slightly.

"I- I can't, master", she managed to squeak, her voice a whisper that had been pushed through all of her fear.

Raw fear. You are terrifying. It was fascinating to see for how long a human could be kept in terror. Even if he wasn't causing her any harm, she was torturing herself for him. Constantly.

"You can't what?"

She was biting her lower lip so hard that Paul was sure she'd draw her own blood. As if it wasn't enough how many times she was covered in it so often, she caused herself enough damage to do the same!

"I can't- I'm sorry, I can't eat all of it, master."

She spoke fast, her tone a tad higher than usual as her big tears rolled down her cheeks. Paul sighed in his defeat. This just won't do.

"Darling, it's alright." He reached for a handkerchief, making sure that he moved slow enough that he wouldn't frighten her. Again. He glanced back up in her eyes once he dried her tears up, his own blue within blue gaze looking way too tired by then. "Just eat as much as you need."

"Master", she murmured, puzzled, "you said I had to eat all of it."

He stared at her for a long few seconds. Those seconds stretched for eternity for her. New tears gathered in her eyes when she realised that this was not a good answer, but there were so many things she could do.

Tell the truth.

Address her owners properly.

Perform tasks to the letter.

All those rules were drilled hard into her head and she couldn't understand why didn't they reach the desired reaction from Paul when she did everything he asked – or at least, tried to. Feyd-Rautha would react accordingly. If he ordered her to eat it all and she admitted that she couldn't, he'd retaliate that. Her body would be covered in new welts and cuts for sure; and a part of her almost wished Paul would do something similar, too. Yes, it would hurt, but it'd also make her free of the guilt she felt, thus, it'd make her feel better. Why was Paul so… different? Was it… wrong?

It was wrong.

"I did… not mean it… like that", he said slowly.

He put the handkerchief down on the nightstand and pinched the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes in pure frustration. He didn't think she'd take that as an order, much less that she'd take it literally – or else! That was the worst of it. Because he knew what she thought he'd do to her if she didn't do as she was told.

"God, I'm so tired", he sighed, mainly to himself, before he lowered his hand and looked up at her again. Obviously, she looked even more distressed, and seeing that, he gave up entirely. They will not go through all of this that night. "Alright. Let's try it again. Are you hungry?"

She struggled for a few moments between telling the truth and lying to escape impending punishment. Her lower lip wobbled. No, she couldn't lie. If she was caught, the punishment for that would be far worse.

"No, master."

"Good." He took the tray from her and placed it on the nightstand. "Lie down in the bed, cover yourself with the sheet if you're feeling cold, make yourself comfortable, and relax. Try and fall asleep, alright? It's fine if you're struggling to do so, you've had an awful day."

"Yes, master."

She did exactly as he'd told her. She lied down, covered herself with the sheet – right up to her neck –, and curled up on the bed, making herself comfortable with pillows. Paul half smiled, but it was short-lived, as her eyes still looked terrified.

"You'll stay here with me", he promised softly, "you can sleep for as long as it suits you."

He had decided earlier that Feyd-Rautha would have some time in the court, so he allowed himself one day of rest with her. It may prove challenging if he had to go through every little thing, but he did not want to be alone. He wanted to pretend, if even for a day, that he had the illusion of companionship.

Perhaps that was why Feyd-Rautha challenged him that day.

Their constant push and pull for power over the other proved to be a tiring game already, but on top of the council and war meetings, Paul found himself drained much faster than he initially thought. He felt like he was ready to lead the fremen against the universe, if there was a need, and he was powerful enough to do that, but the rest of it? Living up to the Harkonnens' – especially Feyd-Rautha's – expectations? Dealing with his cold, detached demeanor?

Paul huffed quietly as he sat on the edge of the bed, showing his back to her as he removed his shoes. He'd never be able to leave Arrakis, everyone knew that. The seat of his power was there. And now that he had to share his power with Feyd-Rautha, the Harkonnen was bound to remain on Arrakis as well.

"You look tired, master", she mumbled behind him, and he half smiled as he stared forward, seeing nothing.

"I am tired, angel", he muttered before he pulled his feet up on the bed and lied down beside her, facing her, this time.

She took her time observing his face. The dark circles under his completely blue eyes, the line of his mouth, the way his brows seemed like they couldn't not frown. She decided she liked his face. It was pleasant for her to look at him. He observed her the same way, in silence, taking in the details of her features, and for once, she felt relatively safe. And while she knew it wouldn't last for long, she wanted to commit it to memory; these moments would be rare in the future. She could feel it.

Paul's lashes fluttered a bit before he raised a hand to touch her cheek. As he expected, she flinched, but he didn't mention it, just stroked her face with his thumb. His finger felt rough against her skin, from practising with the sword every day, no doubt, but it did not feel bad at all. After a few seconds, Paul removed his hand and rested it between them.

"Try to sleep", he murmured as he closed his eyes. "Good night, angel."

"Good night, master", she whispered.

It was fascinating how he trusted her enough that he wanted to fall asleep with her in his bed. Did he trust her? After all that happened… how could that be that he thought she was completely harmless? Of course, she heard the legends… she knew that he could foresee the future, thanks to the spice and being something… they had a name for that… she couldn't remember.

There wasn't much she could pick up from the other slaves and servants. She was the one and only Feyd-Rautha did not kill after the first few nights – other pleasure slaves weren't as 'lucky' as she was. Paul had told Feyd-Rautha that he couldn't keep his cannibalistic darlings when Feyd-Rautha moved to Arrakis, so he had nothing but what this planet had to offer. It was odd he grew attached to her, out of all people; he could've had anyone, really, with the power he had at his fingertips. But perhaps it was more exciting to know that he was tormenting the handmaiden of Princess Irulan.

She felt a twinge of sorrow whenever she thought of the late Princess. She thought of all the things she had to do for her, and how kind she was towards her once she realised that she was reliable. She'd shown her her writings, the books she'd been working on, and sometimes, the Princess allowed her to spend some time with her in the library to read a book she liked… which she was allowed to keep…

Soon after, she had nothing, not even her name once more. Paul's army destroyed everything the Emperor, and his servants, had. Even the clothes she was wearing were taken from her and burned.

She opened her eyes when Paul twitched beside her. His brows furrowed in his dream, his fingers moved in an attempt to grab something. She realised he was dreaming.

"Nn… no…"

His quiet murmur made her furrow her brows, now. Did he have a nightmare? She knew she should not be curious, but she couldn't help it; what could he dream about? He was the Emperor… the most powerful being in the universe – in unison with Feyd-Rautha, true, but his power over the known universe was infinite.

She moved just slightly closer, but he did not wake up, even though he protested in a soft murmur again, and his expression scrunched up for a few seconds. She bit her lower lip. She shouldn't. She shouldn't. Mustn't. It'd violate his rest. But, at the same time… he owned her, and she must serve her, and he had been nice to her… or tried to… right?

She ever so slowly reached out, between the bed and his head, to touch his temple.

Her eyes rolled up in their sockets before they closed shut as she absorbed his nightmares.

Visions of the past and the future intertwined in her mind; most of the pictures and sounds were gibberish and made no sense to her, but some were positively terrifying. She couldn't know if they even happened at some point to Paul or were they just imagined or possible futures and pasts. Temples raised, families and entire planets burned alive in his name. Two children, abandoned. Paul, without eyes, wandering in the desert completely alone. Caladan, attacked by Harkonnens. Feyd-Rautha, dead, lying on the ground, his eyes and mouth wide open, a crysknife in Paul's hand as he stood above him. Feyd-Rautha suffocating Paul… Paul standing between Feyd-Rautha and her to protect her… her… with a child in her arms? Her, dead, lying on a table, as white as the snow, eyes wide open and vacant, mouth hung open, her hair flowing down towards the floor, her body taken apart… dissected like an animal…

She couldn't remove her hand from Paul's temple. They've spent the entire night like that; his mind finally getting a rest while hers was trying to catch up with everything it experienced.

The horrors he had to see every night he went to sleep, when he couldn't keep the visions in check. He could direct the paths he saw when he was awake, but when he was asleep, everything went their own course.

And she absorbed it all.

The morning found Paul completely rested. That was odd. He couldn't get a good night's sleep in months. Not since he was on Arrakis. He opened his eyes and saw her; pale face, closed eyes that turned beneath her closed lids. His mind remained astonishingly empty. Paul ever so gently moved to sit up, a frown on his face. She twitched and twisted, turned around on her other side as soon as the connection was broken, and she let out a soft gasp as she woke up.

"Are you awake?"

That soft, quiet question was enough to make her tremble on the bed. She couldn't turn to look at him, not now, not like this. It felt like she stole something from him, something she could never give back… something she wasn't allowed to see.

But Feyd-Rautha's training kicked in all over again. She couldn't not answer a question her betters asked of her.

"I-" A brief pause as she was trying to gather her thoughts. Everything was hazy. She knew she'd need days to get through with all that she'd seen and heard. "Yes, master."

"Did you sleep well?"

Tell the truth.

She flinched slightly. She made her decision. If he knew, she wouldn't get away with it easily. Stealing like that-

"Yes, master."

Paul reached out and ever so gently rubbed her shoulder, making her flinch again. Did he know she lied just now…?

"We will spend the day in here", he decided, "I want to learn more about you."

His slender fingers ran down her back, making her shiver.

"I can't tell you much, master." She paused when he did not answer, just kept stroking her back. "I am just a slave."

"You're more than that", he drew closer, making her breath hitch in her chest. She was afraid to move, like a little mouse who'd been found by the cat. "Aren't you?"

He knew he didn't have visions when he slept because of her. She shut her eyes tightly but all she saw was herself, lying on that table under the bright light, her insides spread out, on display. He knew. A muffled sob broke out of her. He knew. Was that her future? Her definite future? He knew. Or a possible future? If he saw all of these things, all the time – how could he not lose his mind?

He knew.

"Master, I am nothing-"

"Where are you from?"

"I can't remember, m-"

Paul did not wait for her to finish her sentence.

"Who are your parents?"

"I don't remember them, ma-"

"How did you get so close to the Emperor and his daughter?"

Paul grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to force her to lie on her back. He resembled a hawk more than ever; his sharp features enhanced by the frown on his beautiful face. She trembled under him; she had no way to escape the interrogation.

"The servants of Shaddam Corrino IV. picked me up at the Outer Rim of this galaxy, master", she answerred truthfully, "I've been serving a slaveholder with a couple of other slaves. I do not remember anything else before that, master. I can't remember who sold me, I can't remember my parents or my home planet, master. I've tried-", she added when his eyes darkened. She misunderstood it; she thought he was angry at her, when in fact, he was helplessly furious at those who sold her in the first place. "I've tried to remember, master. I really did. I'm- I'm sorry for my failure, master-"

Her voice was muffled by fear of the inevitable punishment for not being effective enough, for not being able to provide answers. But Paul seemed thoughtful instead. His blue within blue eyes searched her face; she had the features of a noble, not a lowborn. He tilted his head a little.

"It's alright", he replied then, his voice calm now. He'd search the past and the future for answers, and he'd see what he'd find. "Don't worry about it. Today, we just rest."

And that was the truth. She was allowed to stay in a safe, calm environment the entire day. Close to him. Safe with him.

It did not last long.

She was bound in a pillory, blindfolded, ring gagged the next evening, on stage for a show. All she could do was moan, scream and drool, as Feyd-Rautha was decorating her body with a lash. Again.

It seemed like this was his favourite passtime. Whipping his favourite pleasure slave was something that could get him to relax, to release all the pent up stress for sitting in damned meetings every damned day. Tormenting a helpless woman brought him pleasure.

Understanding this didn't make Paul understand him better, much to his frustration. He couldn't decide how to proceed with him. How to keep him under check. How to keep him on a leash tight enough, so he wouldn't cause harm to his legacy. He wasn't stupid enough to use the Voice on him; Feyd-Rautha was untameable, and if he tried to practise control over him like that, it could cause a disaster. If anything, Paul wanted to avoid killing the Harkonnen. It'd create too many complications. At the moment, he had no choice but to partake in his sick games to see what the other really wanted from him.

Feyd-Rautha rested the whip across her back.

"Keep it there", he ordered gruffly, and she went stock still.

From where Paul was told to sit and watch, he could see that Feyd-Rautha shot him a challenging look. He didn't say anything, but his gaze said it all anyway: you demand I keep her alive, and yet you do nothing when I torment her? Her back and bottom, right down to her thighs, were covered in vivid, red welts by now. Any more harsh strokes and Feyd-Rautha would probably draw blood. But it wasn't his intention tonight. He wanted to see how much stimulation Paul needed to join in.

Feyd-Rautha walked back to her with weights in his hands, which he attached to her nipples with clamps. The noises she made as the weights pulled on her breats made Feyd-Rautha glance back at Paul with a smirk, before he flicked the weights, drawing pathetic whines out of her.

That seemed to be the last straw. Paul silently, slowly rose from his seat, like a dark shadow of a bad omen, and approached them in silence; she was too preoccupied breathing heavily through all the pain inflicted on her body. She couldn't even see anything because of her blindfold, anyway... but she could feel fingers gently run up her inner thigh a second later. Given that Feyd-Rautha's firm hands were still tangled in her hair, it wasn't hard to piece it together that they were not alone. She shuddered at the touch that travelled up on her thigh, closer and closer to her heat between her thighs. The fingers never touched her there, but a tongue- her little button was so sensitive by then that she thought for a moment she'd cum only from that one stroke of that hot, wet tongue.

Paul kept his eyes on Feyd-Rautha's face. The Harkonnen's lips parted; how dared he ruin his game of pain he staged for their shared slave? A low growl left him at the sight of Paul devouring, worshipping her cunt. Her thighs trembled as she was trying to reach her orgasm, but a few seconds later she moaned again as Paul removed the weigths from her breasts. The noise of the weights hitting the floor had Feyd-Rautha narrow his eyes. She gasped as Paul gently massaged the pain out of her breasts, bringing her even closer to her peak.

This just won't do.

Feyd-Rautha roughly removed his underwear, grabbed her hair and pushed it all back against the wood in which she was trapped in, to shove his cock down her helpless throat. He couldn't allow his slave finish before him - but the way Paul was taunting him made him feral. Even from this distance, he could see that the dark haired man was smiling as he was pleasuring her, and Feyd-Rautha wanted to wipe that smile off of the other's face as soon as possible.

He pulled away from her mouth and let her cough and gag, before he walked slowly behind her as well. Paul didn't mind him; until Feyd-Rautha grabbed him by his arm and yanked him up on his feet. She helplessly whined at that; she was so close just a moment ago, and it felt awful to be denied.

"If you want to play games with me", Feyd-Rautha growled in Paul's ear, "prepare to lose."

Paul opened his mouth to reply, but his words never came as Feyd-Rautha yanked his pants off of him. A brief moment of panic before he was pushed forward, made to bend against her body, forced to grab the pillory just behind and above her. His hard cock was stuck under her dripping cunt, her backside radiated heat against his body, and he started to pant heavily himself as soon as he felt Feyd-Rautha force himself inside of him.

Memories of their first night together flooded back in his mind. He resisted - although weakly, it was easy for Feyd-Rautha to twist Paul's right arm behind him.

"N-no", he whimpered, making Feyd-Rautha chuckle darkly in his ear, causing goosebumps to raise all down his spine.

"You moan like a girl", he teased darkly, grabbing Paul's curly hair to pull his head back with his left hand and whisper in his ear. "Perhaps I should call you my wife from now on."

"Feyd-"

"Shut the fuck up", Feyd-Rautha thrusted in, making Paul cry out in pleasure and pain, "and take it."

She trembled beneath Paul as she felt the hard thrusts herself with which Feyd-Rautha claimed his husband. Paul's every noise changed from the last; the painful whines rapidly transformed into pleasured moans as he was stuck between her and his husband.

"You want to make sure she enjoys herself", Feyd-Rautha whispered in Paul's ear between his thrusts, his own orgasm building rapidly in his belly, "so fuck her."

"Feyd!!"

Paul cried out softly, in absolute ecstasy. He knew that one single stroke to his cock would end him.

"Do it", Feyd-Rautha growled, pausing his thrusts to pull Paul back from her, just a bit. "Can't leave her like this, can we? All that foreplay... ending it with an empty cunt would be a waste for all of us."

It was true Paul wanted to divert Feyd-Rautha's attention. He wanted him to stop hurting her, yes. But at what cost? What did he create with this? His visions never showed him this, and he was taken by surprise by the events.

When he still did not move, Feyd-Rautha did it for him, guiding him inside her warmth. She tensed up, her thighs trembled, Paul's knuckles went white as he was gripping the wood above her head as hard as he could. Helpless tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, but he saw nothing. If Feyd-Rautha started moving again... he'd-

"Good boy", Feyd-Rautha praised him, making heat spread in his body, "it wasn't that hard, was it?"

"Feyd-", Paul pleaded.

"Who would've thought", Feyd-Rautha chuckled deeply, gripping Paul's hair tighter as he whispered in his ear, "that the fremens' great Muad'Dib, their precious Voice from the Outer World... is just a needy little slut."

His thrusts returned with full force, and Paul quickly lost the coherence of his own thoughts. There was nothing but pleasure. He reached back with one of his hands to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha - trying to find a handle of some sort to make him realise that they were in this mess together. Two Harkonnens, two Emperors - two sides of the same coin.

"Make her cum", Feyd-Rautha growled in his ear, forcing him to bend over her body. The whip fell to the ground, forgotten by all of them. Up until now, she was almost quiet; her reactions to Paul's rutting was almost inaudible compared to Paul's lusftul moans. "Use your hands."

It was so easy to just obey. He didn't even think, he still couldn't form a coherent thought. There was absolutely no resistance, and it was fascinating. His right hand travelled down under her, and he quickly found what he was looking for. Her thighs were trembling a little more violently as he drew hard circles around her sweetest spot. Knowing and feeling that Paul was trapped between her and Feyd-Rautha kept her on the edge, and now, his fingers on her needy clit-

"Cum for me, you whores", Feyd-Rautha snapped above them, dragging his nails down Paul's back before he leaned down as well, reaching for her breasts to squeeze them hard.

She cried out first, and squeezed Paul inside of her deliciously, which brought him over the edge, which, in return, finally brought Feyd-Rautha to the peak of his pleasure as well. Minutes passed in their joint ecstasy, moans and panting filled the room as they came down from their highs together. Paul rested his right hand against her belly, his left hand still gripping the wood of the pillory, while Feyd-Rautha had them both in his arms.

"Neither of you should forget", the Harkonnen whispered, satisfied, "that you both belong to me."

[echoghost1]

InvisoBang 2023 - Dawn Of Influence - Chapter 4

Title: Dawn Of Influence Chapter 4 Title: How to tell your friends you’re a mutant Summary: Danny is in his senior year of high school. His life, even with his still secret half-ghost nonsense, has settled down to a new, but manageable normal. That is until one day he starts to notice something is off. He doesn’t feel right, so he tries to find out what’s going on. His ghost form is changing but he has no idea what it’s changing into or why. Characters: Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Jazz Fenton, Clockwork, Pandora, Frostbite Total Word Count: 17,010 Trigger Warnings & relevant tags: Mystery, Horror, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Ghost King Danny Fenton

You can find my fic on ao3 and read chapter 4 down below the cut!

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | [you’re here] | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12

Danny sat on the edge of his bed and stared ahead.

He was vaguely aware that his friends were in the room.

He knew he should tell them but he wasn’t saying anything. 

He didn't know how.

How do you tell your best friends that you are turning into even more of a monster? He didn’t even know why it was happening. 

"Danny?" Tucker said.

Danny just grunted in response. 

"Are you," Tucker started but then hesitated. He took a breath and then finished his question. "Dying?"

"What? No!"

"Oh good," Tucker said with the most relief-filled sigh Danny had ever heard.

Sam also relaxed in her seat but then popped up and started pacing. "Then why are you so zoned out?! We were freaking out over here!"

"Sorry," Danny said as he slouched more in embarrassment. 

Tucker moved to sit closer to Danny, "You gonna tell us the reason for the thousand-yard stare?"

Danny fidgeted in his seat. He really didn’t mean to make them so worried but he was trying so hard not to freak out.

“I don’t really know if this is better or worse than what you were thinking.” he started. “It’s still bad though.”

“Are you sick?” Tucker asked.

“I don’t think so. But that’s part of the problem.”

“What do you mean?” Sam stopped her pacing to ask.

“Frostbite was able to tell me what was happening, but he couldn’t tell me why.”

“Is that why you’re freaked?”

“I mean yeah! Wouldn’t you be?” Danny replied, “Things are happening and no one knows why.”

“What’s happening, Danny,” Sam asked.

Danny sighed and relented to just saying it, “My ghost form is changing.”

"Changing?" His friends asked in unison. 

"Yeah," Danny said simply. "It probably wouldn't even be that bad if it was just a couple of things but it’s a whole bunch all at once." He just stared at the floor, he couldn’t find it in himself to meet their eyes. "I don't want any of it."

“Would it be easier to show us?” Tucker offered.

Danny glanced over at Tucker and then at Sam. He supposed that would be easier than talking.

He shifted into his ghost form and ignored the fact that everything hurt just a little bit more now.

Tucker hummed to himself in thought, “I’m not seeing anything different.”

“Not everything is visible yet.”

He looked over to Sam and realized she was just staring at him. She wasn’t even blinking.

“Sam?” He asked cautiously. 

Then he started to worry that she must have seen his fangs. She saw them and it freaked her out. He finally was too weird and freakish and soon Tucker was going to see and then he was going to freak too.

Oh no, he was scaring his friends. 

He didn’t want to be a scary monster with no friends.

Great now his eyes were starting to water. 

“Dude, are you okay?”

“Hurts,” was all Danny could choke out without completely losing his composure.

“Then shift back!” Tucker shouted.

Danny was more than happy to shift back, even if it wasn’t that much pain, it wasn’t no pain either. Plus Tucker’s shout seemed to knock Sam out of her stupor as well.

He felt like he should apologize but he also wasn’t sure how. Or to who he should be apologizing to. Sam, for freaking her out, or to Tucker, for lying.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to the floor.

“Why are you apologizing?” Tucker asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“I don’t know. I feel like I keep messing up.” Danny admitted.

“Bro, I’m sorry for suggesting you show us. I forgot that you said your ghost form was hurting more.”

“It’s okay. It’s not that bad.”

“You sure?” Tucker asked.

“I was just thinking while being uncomfortable,” Danny said, hoping that would be enough of an answer. 

“Are you thinking we won’t like you anymore if you look different?” Sam said, hitting the nail right on the head.

His shoulders sagged. How was she able to see through him so easily?

“Danny, we’ve been through this.” Sam said with a sigh, “We didn’t ditch you when you got your powers and we certainly didn’t ditch you when things got tough. Why would we go now?”

Danny opened his mouth to respond but he didn’t actually have an answer for that. There were definitely plenty of times they could have left.

“I guess I just got worried when you were staring and not saying anything.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Sam denied while pointedly looking away.

“You were awfully quiet.” Tucker added while he looked her over, “Why were you staring?”

“I wasn’t staring!” She denied it again, her voice starting to go up in pitch. “We were all looking at Danny to see what was different and you were looking and I was looking and we were both looking and you didn’t see it and I have no idea how you missed it you are sitting right next to him and his mouth is right there and I saw and I looked and I saw it and I was looking, just looking not staring.”

Danny blinked and turned to Tucker. He had no idea why Sam was rambling like that.

Tucker on the other hand apparently knew something because he had the most mischievous grin on his face.

“Shut up!” Sam yelled at Tucker despite him not saying a word.

Of course that led to him grinning even more.

“Shut! Your! Hole!” Her face was so red.

Danny looked between Tucker and Sam and felt even more lost than before.

Tucker turned back to Danny, and when he noticed how confused he was, he asked, “Want a hint?”

Danny nodded.

“Don’t you dare!” Sam said before tackling Tucker to the ground.

The pair rolled around as Tucker tried to escape and Sam tried to silence him.

Eventually, Tucker was able to get out a single word.

“Vampires.”

Danny felt his cheeks get warm.

She wasn’t freaking out because she was scared. 

She was into it.

“Oh.”

Maybe this wasn’t all bad after all.

Now that Danny knew what was going on the pair stopped squabbling on the floor and looked up at him.

“Do you wanna know what else is happening?” he asked tentatively.

They both nodded.

He took a breath and he told them.

[h0rr0rsaxo]

Okay, I think you know what's coming. A N G S T.

So Anni just straight up runs away, leaving everything and everyone else behind and no one knows what happened to her. Everyone is hurt and just heartbroken, they don't even know what happened to her or if she's even alive. To make things worse, someone brings up what Varrick did to her when she first became a proxy and Vince had no idea this happened. Vince being upset and emotional, he blames it all on Varrick and maybe even tries to fight him because of how mad he is. So Varrick is heartbroken and kinda just becomes cold to everyone and honestly just sort of depressed. Then one day, years later he finds Anni just walking down a street, she has some earbuds in, and just looks normal, its still her but she just looks....different? So Varrick obviously stops and just stares and practically crumbles in on himself. Then Anni turns around and sees him, and then its like that scene in a movie where the two characters just stare at each other from other ends of the same street.

(This can end however you'd like and feel free to change anything! Anyways, tysm...I really appreciate it! :)

[ remnants of smoke. || simp party. ]

Warnings: Angsty, EXTREMELY angsty.

Tags: @insane-horror-movie-addict

A/N: Did I just write stupidly long angst because I got way too into it? Yes. Do I regret it? No. Am I going to roll around and cry a little when I re-read it? Maybe.

Word count: 4,264

Varrick thought she loved him.

Had it been a different day he’d think that she really did; that a part of her truly loved him as he is and cared for him and would have done everything to make sure he was happy. And he would smile at Anni, hands gentle as they run through his hair and caress his cheeks, eyes foggy and heart full at Anni's admittance. He would pull him towards her and press close as if chasing the heat her body rarely emits. Then he would say, “I am happy with you.” And the tension would seep through her pores— and maybe she would embrace him gentler and maybe she would leave butterfly kisses on his shoulders and maybe he would never leave her again.

Varrick thought she loved him.

Until those memories came back into her life. Not their lives, Varrick realized now, because while he shared her life with Anni, she never did reciprocate.

The harsh truth was— Anni would always belong to where she truly came from. When the memories came sauntering back into her life, looking so beautiful and healthy, eyes bright and joyful, voice so happy when she spoke about her true home— Anni had walked away from him with not a single glance, not a sliver of hesitation, to cross the distance between them; marching forward as though this was his lifelong purpose and he’s finally able to fulfill it. She left his side so quickly to see her home, hands shaking as though this is an illusion and she is terrified of that possibility.

Varrick watched the moment she learned that her home is still real and that there she stands before it, in her beautiful glory. He watched as Anni breathed in sharply, whispering names in a voice he did not recognize, in a tone that was never directed at him, before desperately, running towards where she truly belongs— he had remembered how this happened. He took her for a drive on his motorcycle throughout the country, somewhere where her childhood home was— and when he saw the way her face melts into pure euphoric joy— an incredibly rare display of emotions with her. He watched as she stared longingly at her home, unsaid words and eons worth of longing being spilled when she did. When she finally returned to him, that same joy had disappeared as fast as it appeared.

Anni never mentioned her home before, but he knew what it was— he knew what she thought about it, Varrick would see how her expression would change when she smelled slivers of cigarette smoke— he knew what it reminded her of. Her hometown and all her old friends was a picture safely stowed away in her wallet. The same place, Varrick learned later, that she’d frequently have mountains of old pictures of. Anni missed her home.

Varrick can feel his heart shatter from within his ribs. He feels so choked up, skin breaking out with goosebumps as coldness grips him whole, the void inside him growing as he watches the inevitable: Anni leaving him— leaving everyone. It happened when she suddenly disappeared, which wasn't unusual— but days turned into months, and what he didnt realize, they would then turn into years. Tears cascade down his cheeks, slow and silent, just like everything with Anni.

So this is how it ends, he thinks as he walks away, she was never his to begin with.

Varrick doesn't not remember much of the fallout.

Varrick does not even recall clambering about at his brother's house, heinously wiping at the tears, telling Vince what happened within choked words. He does not remember much, just the sight of Anni's back metaphorically moving further from him and growing smaller as she leaves.

It almost feels surreal that the thing he has with Anni is over. There were times that he thought it was inevitable, but sometimes he remembered the way she held him—tight and sure, and grounding in a way that silenced all his fears—and thought that Annni would never leave him. maybe if he hadn't brought her to her home that fateful day, she wouldn’t have. Anni liked him, that at least Varrick knew, it’s just that she loved her true home. She loved her home in the way that he wasn't, and it breaks him. It shatters him into pieces; feeble fingers desperately grasping at the scattered remains of his heart, trying to save himself from more pain. But it is futile. He weeps at her abandonment. Everyone does. Immediately, everyone blamed him for her disappearance. Especially Vince, his own brother.

Vince looked down and saw Varrick, bloodied and battered, laying on the floor next to his very own bloodied fists. Vince felt guilty— but he was assured that Varrick was the one who caused this mess. His feet moved under him and he knelt down next to Varrick, placing his hands on the sides of his face lightly, "Varrick? Answer me." Vince could feel the bruised bones in his jaw and watched his face begin to swell slowly, his skin turning purple and blue.

Vince heard Varrick choking out in pain and agony, looking over and seeing his face wicked with restraint. He continued to keep his arm extended out and his hand clawed at him as if he were gripping his heart and ripping it from his chest. "What the hell is he...?" Vince whispered to his brother.

"Where is she!?" Vince shouted violently and his brother looked at him hatefully, straining to say his words through Vince's hold—-

"l... don't know!!" He growled loudly and Vince clenched his fist shut, turning it in a circle. He gritted his teeth and groaned out in pain and struggled to face his brother, "She just…left. She doesn’t fucking care. She—"

Vince shook his head, "I don't believe you."

Varrick keeps feeling the emptiness pawing at his chest, never truly knowing how to be whole again. He gave what he was to her, and now he has to rebuild who he was in her absence; to leave behind the person he used to be. It was difficult. Varrick thought it would be easy since Anni surely made it look like so, and yet here he is, unable to leave behind the part of him that yearns for a love now unrequited. He shapes himself around what has been, distracting himself from the pain, and stepping over the cracks to patch himself anew as though it would help.

It does not.

It takes so much of him to move on – not like he was able to; he just rather fills up his mind with things unrelated to Anni. He attempted to force himself to move on, he really did.

"Sweetie," A new voice cooed to Varrick. He felt a hand gently glide onto his shoulder, his eyes opened quickly and his head turned to look over to the blond-female that approached him. "Aren't you cold?" Amber asked. In the few last years or so that he had spent in alone in the mansion, the Proxy found himself becoming close to the Zalgo Proxy he had resented slightly in his youth. It was only natural for them to drift to each other, it felt good to have a distraction from all the worries in his mind.

Varrick slowly looked away from her, looking up at the now gray night sky and wondering how long he had been standing in thought. Long enough for the sun to fully set. "I've got a lot on my mind..." he whispered. "It's been three years since she's been gone, that's a long time. I wonder how everything has changed...l wonder how I've changed..."

He glanced over as Amber obnoxiously yawned, taking the hand off his shoulder and using it to cover her mouth a bit. "l just thought you were cold, I didn't ask for your whole life story.." she said, rolling her eyes. She groaned and stepped forward more, hugging him slightly from behind with one arm wrapped around his shoulder, her free hand coming up and cupping at the proxy's cheek to turn his eyes to her. "Everything's fine without her, stop worrying." she said. After this she slowly leaned in, pulling Varrick in as well, and pressed her lips against his. Varrick returned the kiss, lips gently wrapping over each other as it deepened slightly, his eyes closed, but his is mind had been preoccupied as he did this. He wondered, what would Anni have said?

These thoughts he made up for the girl made him let out a chuckled laugh, causing Amber to pull away slightly and look upon his face in confusion and annoyance. Varrick pulled away a bit, hand gently reaching up to hold the back of Amber's neck and he slowly opened his eyes. Wind rushed past them and blew some of Varrick's bangs over his eyes, obstructing his vision. Through his bangs he saw himself looking back at those captivating eyes that he was unable to stop thinking of, his hand prickled by soft and hanging blond locks as they grazed over his knuckles. He could see that sad smile again.

The wind subsided, his hair fell back into place as the girl in front of him, Amber, pulled away from him - pleased with her pathetic results of attempting to shut up the worries of her boyfriend. He was cold to her— he was cold to everyone since he left, all excluding Cassie, who didn't understand the situation.

Varrick watched her walk away, her hair once again taking the form of Amber's blond and tied up hair, and standing there blankly. A trick of the eye and mind, in a moment of obstructed vision his brain tried to connect what existed in his vision with what had passed through his mind. The result had been the muddled image of that girl. Anni.

A thought crossed his mind for a moment, but he couldn't convince himself completely. Something was in the air, quite literally, and he had smelt it before. "Cigarette smoke.." the whisper came softly from the boy's lips. The only reason he recognized it so well— was because it was the particular brand of cigarettes that Anni would always smoke.

The air smelt of remnants of smoke, just like it had that day before she had left.

— . — . —

Anni had been casually walking down the crowded streets of her town, with a slight skip in her step, and music blaring in her earphones— she lazily marched through the sidewalk with a small coffee she had been clinging onto since she had left the cafe. Ever since she had abandoned her old chaotic life to live in her hometown, everything had been nothing but great— she had met so many new normal people, got a job with the RPD, and had managed to score her own little house within the suburbs. Her other co-workers offered her a ride back to her apartment, but she can handle walking back home— it was much nicer this way, it gave her peace to know she had finally begun to forget the past— which felt more like a fever dream than memories. She sipped on her coffee with a lazy smile on her lips, breathing a waft of fresh air, this fresh new start was what she absolutely needed— she had even quit smoking cigarettes.

Life was great.

Anni rubbed her eye with the ball of her hand and took a quick sip of her coffee, stretching her free arm as high as it would go. With a groan, she walked down the street towards her apartment, the sky burning with the bright, early afternoon sun. A loud sigh escaped her lips and her brown eyes shimmered like glass against the sunlight that bore through a large window behind her favorite cafe.

Vendors stretched across the middle of the streets, catching people's eyes cleverly as they passed by. People walked their dogs, children ran crazily through the crowds of people, and young lovers held hands while the boys bought their girls nice gifts. Anni saw big blow-up playground fluttering around as the children expended all their energy with all their excitement. Street performers littered the different corners of downtown, hoping to make a few dollars from the onlookers that were intrigued by their talents.

Anni stopped dead in her tracks when the exploding sound of hot rods and motorcycles echoed through the streets. Her green eyes instantly found the culprits, seeing hundreds of them lined up in on the shoreline of the lake. A smile crossed her face upon seeing the beauty of the classics all over and the excitement of seeing them was almost unbearable. She found that her feet were quickly carrying her towards the scenic view of mechanical beings, weaving in and out of groups of people, and avoiding children as they jumped in front of her, some even waving at her— to which she gave a little wave back.

Life was so great.

— . — . —

Varrick lazily outstretched his hands to intertwine with the younger girl below him— the only one he had even cared for anymore. As the years passed, a depressed scruff lazily grew onto his chin and with narrowed eyes— he squinted them as the sun glared back at him. God, he hated the human world— everyone was so happy-go-lucky and quite frankly— fucking irritating. The only reason why he had been out here was because Cassie had practically begged him for weeks until he finally gave in, he undeniably had a weak spit for the girl. Ultimately, he had regretted even leaving the house and should've convinced Vince to take her out instead. Varrick walked outside and grimaced at the sight of the high, beaming sun. The rays of its glory beamed down on his scruffy, tired face, his hand immediately hovering over his brow so his eyes could finally get a look at his surroundings. The area of the street was abuzz with activity, people crowding around tailgates and their friends getting ready for their day's events.

God he should have stayed ho— wait.

A recognizable figure walked in the middle of the street, looking as happy as ever— It was a bright, yet small grin under a light shade of pink lip gloss. A wind caught the woman's long, brown haired bouncing around in her ponytail and the lazy bangs in her face tickled her cheeks. Is that who he thinks it is? His hand gripped Cassie's hand tightly, as the youthful little girl looked at him in slight wonder. He blinks the sleepiness away, hands wiping at his foggy eyes, before an overwhelming coldness envelops him in whole. He stares at the girl, frozen, feeling a myriad of emotions flooding him like an angry current. And then, like a balloon popping, his heart is bleeding at the seams again. It’s terrible how just because of a single look from Anni, he is back to being young and stupid for her. Back to yearning for her embrace and missing her voice and remembering every good thing about her. He blinks.

and again.

and again.

and again.

He stares at it until the woman's image is seared deep into his mind as though this was the salvation he's been looking for. He knows it is not.

and yet it does not stop his pining heart.

Anni sees him. She pushed her way through the swarming grow, the afternoon rush had only just started and would grow quickly. It slowed her down, weaving through bodies that would do close to nothing to move out of the way, and she grew anxious. Her anxiety grew as she felt the heat of staring eyes behind her, she could hear the familiar voice even through the loud nuzzling of the crowd. Varrick, she could almost hear him shouting her name.

He wouldn't shoot in such a crowded space, but he wouldn't let her lose him either. His voice made chills run down her spine, panic began to set inside of her, and she looked back and over her shoulder for a moment. What she saw made her frightened, a look of utter rage and darkness in his eyes as he pushed his way harshly through the crowd. But as she turned her head once again, she saw Cassie softly coaxing him and tears both springing into their eyes— Varrick softly nodding to what the child had been telling him, and they ended up both going to a diner. A diner all too familiar to Anni— one they had gone to, to celebrate Cassie finally going to school. (It wasn't a normal human school, but it was one in the demon-realm. Nightmare had offered to help enroll Cassie into the school Hunter had been going to, and Anni remembered how Varrick scrunched his face in protest of letting his precious little girl go to a pretentious rich-demon school.)

Anni could ignore Varrick and everyone else, but she didn't have the heart to abandon Cassie any longer. She sighed, turning on her heel to enter the diner they had been in.

— . — . —

Anni meets them by the breakfast diner that she frequented at before heading to her work. It’s the same one that Cassie is so fond of, the girl always silently vibrating in joy whenever she brings her there for breakfast before her school.

A rush of memories floods Anni like a raging storm: she remembers having to wipe pancake syrup from Cassie's chin, the girl unconsciously becoming a messy eater despite the care she puts in chewing. She remembers Varrick's little crooked smile when tasting the waffles that she ordered for him.

Anni reigns in her emotions, swallowing the lump in her throat and blinking the stinging behind her eyes, willing the unshed tears to disappear. She is not naïve enough to think that this meet-up is for a rekindling of her relationship. She knows it is not. She doesn't plan on returning.

She entered the diner and it is so laughable how her eyes easily found him.

He looked just like she remembers: handsome. He is so breathtaking that she had forgotten why she had followed them into the diner. The telltale of a smile graces her lips, gentle and warm, before the façade is broken when he meets her eyes.

The eyes that he loves dearly are empty of any emotions; there is no sense of nostalgia at seeing him or even an inkling feeling of remorse at his hollowed state. There is not even an awkward strain in her eyes that shows the signs of her distaste with the situation. There is only indifference. And that, for some reason, hurts more.

Anni wants to leave. She wants to just turn around and hightail from the diner, and never cross paths with him again. Sure, she wants to know why he nearly followed her, but a part of her also thinks that she does not owe him this.

and she's right—she doesn't.

Then she sees Cassie.

She sees Cassie and the fight that had simmered in her veins leave. The anger and the hurt and the bubbling feeling of unfairness that she felt at seeing Varrick is replaced with nothing but a stuttering silence. Cassie looks at her shyly as though she no longer remembers how to be with her and she is crushed. She does not resent the young girl, oh god, she never would, but could anyone blame her heart for breaking?

It's there, standing by the doors of the tiny diner, that she finally realizes that there was no longer a space for her. Not beside Cassie, and not with Varrick. A stuttered breath escapes her. It almost sounded like a cry.

— . — . —

Silence greets her when she sits down. Cassie is fiddling with the paper wrapper of her straw, body tensed beside Varrick. She’s always been a smart kid, so no wonder that she knows something is wrong with the situation.

“How…are you?” Anni asks, eyes trained at the girl than at her adopted father. She feels Varrick's eyes bore into her and she tries not to tremble at the attention.

Since when was Varrick's presence associated with fear? She does not remember anymore.

Cassie peeks up at her adopted father as though asking for permission. She doesn't know what she sees, but Cassie turns to her and sends a shy smile her way.

“I'm doing okay,” Cassie replies, voice quiet as though she does not want to break the tense silence.

Anni smiles back at the youthful girl. She knows it is not as bright and she feels her smooth lips sting at the action, but Cassie's shoulders relax and that is enough.

“That's good,” Anni says to her because it is. A waitress arrives and asks for her order. She says the usual, smiling when she nods and walks away. There is silence again, but this time it is less overwhelming and more hesitant. Varrick refuses to open the conversation, so she does it for him.

“How are you, Varrick?”

Anni's voice is quiet and her eyes do not meet him. Any other day, she would call this cowardice. But not today. Today this is protection—she does not wish to hurt all over again. He grunts but he does not answer. She does not probe anymore, simply nodding and waiting to pass time.

The diner fills up with more people as he waits for his order. A family sitting three tables from his are talking in loud voices. A couple sits by the windows, hands intertwined on top of the table. A woman is furiously typing away on her laptop beside them, half of her face buried on the fluff of her scarf. The diner is full of life and even for just a bit, it distracts Varrick.

The sound of paper sliding on wooden tables catches his attention. He zones back in, eyes focusing on the envelope Anni's pushed towards him. He knows what is in it. Rage simmers from within his chest, almost suffocating in the way it bubbles and fills him up.

Varrick turns to her, body pulled taut. “No,” he says, voice firm.

How dare she. How dare she.

“Anni,” he uttered, voice trailing off when the waitress came back with their food. She nods at her and sends a heated look at Varrick. He responds with a small glare of his own and something like a knife drives itself to his heart. When Varrick turns to her, the glare is still on his face and a visceral ache overtakes him. He wants to hurt her the same way she’s hurt him. He wants her to hurt; to cry for days and scratch at her aching heart. He wants her to miss him.

Anni rolls her eyes at what she saw in his, leaning back onto her chair. “Just take it,” she says, voice gruff.

“No.”

“Stop being difficult. take the payment-”

“I didn't love you to be repaid, Anni.” She parts her lips, but Varrick does not give her the chance to talk.

“I loved you for what little love you gave to me. I loved you as lovers do, Anni. I loved our family.”

Anni sighs and for a moment, it is like he is seeing the Anni he remembers. This is the woman who he knew loved him. The one whose eyes look older than they really are, and whose hands tremble when she thinks he is looking away. The one who called for his name when her nightmares got too much, and the one who promised him that he has nothing to worry about— that she wants to stay with him. Liar. This is the woman who looked at her with kindness and compassion; the one who pressed i love you’s at his lips.

Anni calls his name and he turns back to her. He feels his lips quiver as tears blur his eyes. He misses the woman she was.

“Take it,” she says, voice quiet, “Take it and we will leave this as it is.”

He lets Cassie crawl beside her. It might be the last time they’d see her and Varrick wants Cassie to remember her for as long as she could.

Anni wipes at Cassie's tears and presses the young girl softly to her, hugging her shaking body as she whispers comforting promises to her ears. The familiarity of taking care of Cassie bleeds out from her, and Varrick thinks—and he would not admit this to anyone—how motherhood looks good on her.

Varrick tries imagining her married with a faceless man standing tall behind her and a child cradled in her arms. Varrick imagines the way the man would embrace her from behind, tucking her to his chest as they both gaze at the sleeping bundle they hold. Varrick imagines many things about her family: the sleepless nights that would be worth it, the lullabies that would spill from Anni's lips, the way her husband would always be beside her through everything. A tinge of jealousy courses through him, and Varrick never hated himself more.

He turns back to Anni and Cassie, watching in silence. She is feeding the youthful girl her food, occasionally wiping at her chubby cheeks as Cassie continues to sniffle. Anni wonders how long it’ll take for him to move on and find someone new. Someone who would love him more than she ever did. Someone who would want to marry Varrick.

For a moment, his phone began to ring. A familiar name flashed across the screen. Amber.

[minho-hoho]

Please, open the door

GENRE yandere au PAIRING yandere!Jay x gn!reader WARNING cursing, suicide, typical yandere behaviour REQUESTED yes, 400 followers event WC 0.6k NOTE ok this is me writing heathers but lets look over this thx, also this has been a while since i had this much fun writing, i wrote this really fast too :> i hope you'll enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it :D

you ran through the hallways, trying to find somewhere to hide. your heart was pounding in your chest. your sweat and tears now indistinguishable from each other on your face. you were out of breath but the will to live and the adrenaline were stronger and kept you going.

you looked around, hoping to find a door, but nothing. it was a nightmare. Jay's voice and footsteps could be heard, and each time they got closer to you, your heart raced and you sprinted to buy yourself some time.

you were starting to get seriously tired, your legs felt like jelly. fortunately, you found a door and used the bit of strength left in your legs and body to open and close it.

you tried barricading the door with everything you could find, but you knew that it wouldn't be enough to stop Jay from entering the room.

you held your gun tight in your hand and hid in a corner, praying to every god you knew of that he wouldn't come by this room.

much to your horror, the sound of footsteps was getting closer to your ears, and you felt your heartbeat accelerate.

you clutched your gun close to your chest, and tried calming yourself and think about your next move.

were you going to kill Jay if he came? after all, he did say you deserved to be killed, and you suspected that he also had a gun with him.

despite it being legitimate defense, you couldn't imagine ending someone else's life, but being in Jay's hands was worse than death and you couldn't let him end your life. he had no right to. only you could do so.

as the footsteps got closer your will to live only got smaller and smaller, to almost non-existent.

“Y/N !” you heard him yell, making your heart skip a beat.

“y/n, open the- open the door please” he pleaded, his sudden tone change freezing your blood.

“y/n open the door” your brain fogged as you looked intensely at your gun, hands trembling.

“y/n, can we not fight any more please? can we not fight any more...” he asked, sounding more and more desperate with each question.

“y/n, sure, you're scared, i've been there, i can set you free” he tried reassuring you. your eyes looked at the door then at the gun, not knowing what to do.

“y/n, don't make me come in there, i'm gonna count to three!” he yelled.

panicking you took your gun, did you last prayers, put the gun to your head.

“one!” you cried some more, your hand shaking, not believing what you were about to do.

“two!” he screamed, and you pulled the trigger, and dropped to the floor.

“fuck it!” he said violently opening to the door to find you dead, on the floor, blood running down your forehead and face.

Jay immediately ran to your side, tears spilling on his cheeks.

“no... god... no... y/n!” he said through sobs, holding you in his arms.

“please don't leave me alone,” he begged, hoping a miracle would happen and bring you back to him, “you were all i could trust,” he hung his head low, crying, “i can't do this alone...”

remorsefully, he grabbed his own gun, looked at your body laying helplessly on the ground, and without any hesitation, Jay put the gun to his own head, aware that life was now not worth living if you weren't alive and at his side, and so, he pulled the trigger, in hopes of finding you in the afterlife.

PERM TAG LIST! : @stacey-stonem, @sh1mzu, @axartia, @echantedrose, @leeknowbuttsmasher, @nikipedia07, @deafeningballoonnacho, @sristsblog,

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."

[buckybarnesdiaries]

longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car

© mine.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky is kidnapped by Hydra to reactivate the Winter Soldier.

word count: 2.924 words. it worth it, i promise!!!

warnings/tags: none. angst as hell mostly. but it has a happy ending.

author notes: i don't speak russian, but i haven't used google translate either, so no worries. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

No. It couldn't be possible. It had to be part of a terrible nightmare. Bucky couldn't have been kidnapped by Hydra again.

You didn't know what to expect in the ship flying to the secret location of the organization. For Stark, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to track the arm down, since Shuri put a small monitor on it when the soldier stayed in Wakanda. She never told it, wanting to use it in some kind of circumstance like the one you all were going through now. And you couldn't be more grateful, but it didn't help to make you feel better.

You were sitting close to the back hatch. Back rested against the metallic wall and legs curled to your chest. Nothing inside your head more than the hallucination of a pair of blue eyes staring at you. Blaming yourself was something you couldn't avoid. You should have been with him, by his side, protecting him as many times you promised him. But in fact, you just failed him. You failed his trust, his love. You let them take him. Only God knew which torture Hydra was putting him under, while you were there, lamenting.

You didn't even notice Steve's presence squatting next to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. Then, you raised your face towards him. He was suffering too. In the end, Bucky was his long-life friend, his big brother. He lost him once and felt like he was going to lose him twice. Although this time was different. You were carrying the dispositive that could put to sleep back the winter soldier, but, at what cost?

“Buck got you now. Everything is gonn—”. He spoke in plural, referring to your last night's talk.

“How could you be so calm, Steve? How do you do it?” You whispered through your trembling lips, about to break in crying.

“Because he needs us focused, not distracted”.

He was wise. Captain America was wiser than anyone in that ship. He curled the left corner of his lips up, trying to make you feel good, trying to transmit you the encouragement you needed to not give up. And he did, more or less. You had to fight harder than ever. For Bucky, and only for Bucky. That's why you didn't hesitate on jumping out from the ship when it landed on the cold hard ground, as the freezing weather hit you on the face.

Following the plan, you ran quietly to the back door hidden under a huge layer of snow. Shaking part of it with the palm of your hand, you placed the device with technology from Wakanda on the locker. Not later than fifteen seconds, it deciphered the code to open the hatch. Once in position, the Avengers followed you downstairs. The passage was empty and silent. The only sound that broke it was a couple of rats running away from your presence. You all had studied the plans of the building, mostly underground, remembering exactly where you had to go.

The coast was clear, that was the reason why you all were so confused. You were expecting to find more than a dozen of agents, but when T'Challa enunciated through your earwigs that he only located two heat spots, you couldn't believe it. How only one man kidnapped the most fearless assassin up to now? Tortuous and bitter screams dragged you back to reality, causing your brain to react to make your legs run faster than ever in your whole damn life. You knew by heart that voice beneath all the pain.

Your skin bristled when your gaze landed on that chair of horrors, connected to an enormous power source. Bucky was sitting there against his want.

“... добросердечный… возвращение на родину… один…”

“STOP IT”. Steve yelled.

Huge mistake. You were aware of it when —yes— that man stopped reciting the Russian words to re-activate the Winter Soldier, but only enough time to push a red button near to him and close the heavy door in front of you. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. At the moment you glimpsed Steve’s shield sliding above the floor, straight to the inside of the room where Bucky was being tortured, you followed the same way. Never in your life, you were this fast. Like a lightning bolt, you snaked yourself under the small distance between the door and the ground before being closed. Now, it was you, that man and the soldier.

“You’re late…” He mocked with an awful American accent, under James crying out loud in pain. “грузовой ваг—”.

Your left hand moved quickly to unholster your gun and shoot him. One… Two… Three… Four bullets right to his head. The man fell dead before he couldn’t complete the command. You didn’t lose time, running to the controls to try to turn that machine off. But it was impossible. Even if you knew Tony could do it, there wasn’t signal inside those large and wide walls made of steel reinforced. You were in one of those abandoned soviet bunkers, that could save you from Armageddon. You were inhaling and exhaling so fast that your lungs never got really full, trying to focus, trying to shut every single noise around up. Trying to think of a plan b. But it was your heart who pushed you to act and not your brain. Grabbing Steve’s shield, you aimed for the energy source before tossing it like a damn frisbee.

That thing blew up, turning off any kind of light and dispositive around, as the sparks and the cables decorated your surroundings. Just like the fire that started to burn down a pile of boxes with different documents of Hydra. But that wasn't why you were impatient. Catching the shield when it came back to you, your legs moved immediately to Bucky, still stirring on his seat for a few seconds else. Then, he simply stopped shaking. Her eyes were wide opened. Reddened, in tears. His chest rose and fell violently. His heart was racing. And you could see the trauma taking control over his body in holy silence.

You didn't doubt removing the protection from his mouth along the restraints keeping him on the chair. Your fingers trembled like never before, not having any more time to lose. Probably, the Avengers would be trying to open the door when the emergency red lights illuminated the bunker, producing a loud alarm sound to indicate that something was going wrong inside the facilities.

“C'mon, Buck… C'mon, we have to leave”. You told him, trying to help him to stand up.

But as soon as your hand was about to land on his arm of vibranium, the five cold digits got closed around your throat. Soon, the lack of air for you was more than evident. He got up on his own, not needing you to do it. The ocean blue in his eyes turned into a dark storm. There wasn't any gesture on his face, more than his jaw clenching, pressing his teeth together. That wasn't Bucky —your Bucky—, but the unstable trained assassin Hydra turned him in. You could barely gulp saliva, gripping his metallic wrist with both of your hands to try to stop him from murdering you.

He couldn't. He couldn't kill you. His strength was suffocating you with no mercy, though.

For a moment, you felt too weak to fight, seeing everything around you getting blurred and darker. Blacking out. But there was something inside you, a sweet tone of voice calling your name. A male voice. Your eyelids rolled down bit by bit, wanting to concentrate on that honeyed sound being closer and closer.

“любить”.

The sore whisper left your lips. Love. The first time Bucky told you about love came to your mind. He told you about his family. George, Winnifred, Rebecca. He told you how much he desired to have a family of his own. To be loved.

“новый”.

Your almost dead fingers traced the form of his new arm made in Wakanda when you felt him lifting you from the floor, being suspended on air.

“сороковых годов”.

Trying to keep a firm tone of voice as much as the pressure let you, the Russian words were spat to the confused soldier, who wasn't understanding what you were doing. The forties changed his life. He was sent to war and, lately, captured by HYDRA. It was something he'd never forget, part of his DNA.

“заката”.

You didn't know what the hell your subconscious was doing either till that precise instant. You were reprogramming him. You were using his own memories to reset his wiped brain from them. Dusk. The first night he spent in Wakanda, Bucky was terrified. But you stayed with him. You comforted him by saying that everything was going to be okay, that his life would be different. That he was safe. That he was at home.

“лето”.

His last night of summer in that kingdom, Bucky took you to his favorite place between the woods, wanting to show you the fireflies fluttering in the middle of the gloom. He used to walk there whenever he woke up from a nightmare. Those small insects used to make him feel better for some reason he didn't comprehend. Until he saw their light reflecting on your amazed orbs. Bucky knew then he was in love with you. Besides his long-life friend, the only person who never judged him, who never ran away from him. The same person that now was dying under his fingers.

“шесть”

Six years took him to be Bucky, after his last war, after the last effort, after the last jump. He was a new man. You made him a new man. A good one. You guided him through the right way. You helped him to get used to the twenty-one century. You accompanied him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room every single session until he finished.

“заткнуться”.

The soldier ordered you to shut up, earning quite the opposite when you knew it was sorting some kind of effect on him, as soon as you felt some relief by the grip loosening around your throat and your tiptoes touching the ground. Little by little, you opened your eyes again, gluing them on the blue ones fixed on you.

“боец”.

He wasn't a super soldier, he was a fighter. He spent the last six years of his life fighting for it, fighting for ruling his existence, fighting for being pardoned for crimes he didn't want to commit, fighting for your love. Bucky furrowed swallowing, allowing you to place your feet on the floor.

“Бруклин”.

And when he demonstrated to the world that he was no longer the Winter Soldier, but James Bucky Barnes, he moved to his birthplace. Brooklyn. You and he rented an apartment together when you both learned that you couldn't live apart. That you were made for each other.

“Отец…”

A tear ran down your cheek, slowly moving your left hand to his free one. A shiver toured his backbone when he felt your warm touch holding his hand and, even if his cold fingers were still around your throat, the soldier bowed his head to follow the connection between the two of you. His flesh hand landed on your stomach, pressing it under yours, trying to transmit to him the news about your pregnancy status. Bucky was going to be a father. You were going to build a family as he always wished.

“Свобода”.

As the sob escaped your soul, his hand made of vibranium released your neck. Freedom was what he got after all those years.

Bucky was free.

His hold was the only thing that kept you on your feet, pining to the cold hard ground, as well as you trying to fill your lungs with the heavy air around you because of the dense smoke coming from the flames burning down that damn place. You watched Bucky picking the shield close to you, probably believing it could be easier to kill you with it than with his own hands. Your arms automatically wrapped your abdomen, as if you could protect your unborn child from that horror, crying James' name to remember you.

“James… James…”

You weren't able to stop whining, feeling a heavy sorrow under your chest, covering your vitals organs. The noisy sound from the bunker was suddenly turned into a constant beep, beep, beep that caused you to frown yet keeping your eyes closed. You called him once and again until a warm hand laced his fingers with you. Peace invaded you eventually, after a fond squeeze around your skin followed by a pair of rough lips pressed on your forehead. You let yourself go, not finding any strength inside your heart to continue awake.

The next time you opened your eyes, you needed a moment to adjust your gaze to the sunlight. Purring feeling more comfortable than before, you rolled on your stomach, sinking your nose into the large pillow. Bucky's scent was like a punch of reality. Your eyes snapped open as your pulse increased, starting to panic. Sitting up, your orbs moved quickly all around the room you recognized instantly. It was your dorm in the Compound, the one you used to share with your boyfriend —and the father of your child. It was empty. No trace of James anywhere. You tossed away the oxygen mask and the sheets covering your stiff anatomy, getting up from the bed. Another huge mistake.

Everything spun around you, feeling strong dizziness hitting your head, having to sit down for a second. But as soon as you felt recovered, you stood up again walking straight to the main door to step out. The hallway was deserted, hearing some voices coming from the meeting room. You followed them slowly, finding balance with your palm against the walls. Sam was the first one noticing your presence, coming faster to help you.

“James… James…” You mumbled, not really sure about when you started to sob again, whilst your muscles got tense with every syllable.

“He's okay, he's okay, take it easy, girl”. He tried to calm you as Steve reached you to bring you to the closest chair.

“We don't know what you did… but even if that man introduced the commands again… you turned it off”. Natasha spoke this time.

“I re— I repro— reprogramed him”.

The confusion was more than evident between the Avengers present in the room. But no one of them had the need to ask how. The spy taught you Russian in your free time, you weren't a fluent speaker, but it was enough to have a chat. Even so, you weren't going to say the words you used. You weren't going to make Bucky go through another wipe. If they worked, you'd make sure that he'd hear them when the occasion required it.

“I wan— wanna see him… please”. You cried covering your face with both hands, desolated after the hell of the situation you had to live.

“He's resting”. Steve informed you, squatting close and placing a hand on your right thigh to gently caress it. “And you should do the same. For your baby”.

“There's no way you're gonna stop me from seeing him”. You replied, raising your head and looking at him through your eyelids. Silently pleading.

He snorted, convinced that you wouldn't change your mind. Nodding two times with his head, he stood up and offered you a hand to hold it and help you to walk. Steve guided you through upstairs, following your pace step by step —he could have carried you onto his arms, but he wasn't sure if he could hurt you accidentally. You were too weak, barely breathing properly because of all the smoke you swollen inside the bunker. Although you started to feel somewhat erratic and excited as you were coming to Bucky's old dorm.

Steve opened the door for you, letting you walk inside before closing it behind your back. Your boyfriend was peacefully sleeping under the sheets. There were some scars on his face, already healed but yet seeming painful. The only explanation you found to be there was that Bucky used the shield to open the door and take you out of the bunker. A theory that made more sense when you noticed that he hadn't his prosthesis and his shoulder was covered by a thin black microfiber.

You headed to the bed, tucking in to wrap his warm and heavy body between your arms. At the moment he felt you, he embraced you as better as he could, not opening his eyes but shedding a tear. His lips started to tremble as you pecked them, previous to hiding his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry…” Bucky sobbed, causing your whole anatomy to shudder because of the sorrow in his voice.

“We're gonna be okay, my love… You, me, our baby… Our family”.

His crying increased after those two words, caressing his back slowly to comfort him somehow. You knew that this recovery would be hard and painful, being conscious of how close he had been to end with your life. He didn't want to do it, nobody could deny it. You were everything he had, everything he always wished for deep inside his soul and heart. And the acknowledgment of having a baby with you only provoked him to feel guiltier.

But as you said so, everything was going to be okay.

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[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Unyielding

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Graphic Depictions of Blood and Violence, Death, Gore, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death, Slight Horror, War, NSFW!!!

Previous Chapter: Hearth

Next Chapter: TBA

Word Count: 4.27k

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Notes: Minors DNI as usual with my NSFW chapters. This can be skipped. It’s 4000 words of shameless action, so enjoy reading~

Chapter 22 (NSFW): Melting

After retiring in your room, both you and Noritoshi took your respective showers before getting into bed.

You talked about the different Jujutsu techniques you encountered in the war. The night of the demon parade was so unique and yet timeless. Apart from the fact that it was a night of life and death, you still learned a lot. And you had to analyze it to improve.

He smiled as he listened to you, loving the fact that you were back by his side. 

"Toshi are you listening?" 

"Hmmm?" He snapped to attention after finding himself twirling your hair between his fingers. He was more focused on the smell of your bath soaps than your conversation. "Yes love?"

You stared at him before pinching his nose and pulling him to you. "Ow! I'm sorry, yes I'm listening." You felt yourself crack a smile. "You're not. But that's okay." You hummed and settled into his chest, yawning. 

You dozed off for a bit against him, not noticing the way he watched you. 

Noritoshi always kept his deepest desires to himself. He quietly does his work and plans out for the future. But having an experience and bond like this for you was so unusual that sometimes, he doesn’t know how to properly express himself to you.

Does he even do enough to show his love? For several weeks, he was plagued about the recent duties he had back at his household, that he ended up neglecting you for a bit. He does regret not being open enough, but he thought that the bond would make his feelings for you clear with time.

‘It was short-sided of me to assume she will know the way I feel. I can’t let this bond mess up the natural course every relationship goes through.’ He thought. His fingers ran through some strands of your hair, before he pushed them away from your face. ‘Ironic. The very bond that links us and lets us share emotions makes us overconfident in our perception of each other. This lack of communication won’t do.’

Noritoshi shook you awake. 

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t think I’ve made myself clear enough. But I just wanted you to know, I love you so much. I honestly don’t think you understand just how much I’d give for you to be safe and happy.” Noritoshi looked unusually nervous and more serious than usual. 

He was pretty straightforward most of the time, but he wasn’t the type to say these out of nowhere.

Your mouth fell open and silence ensued for a bit, before you followed up with a meek, “I love you too Toshi. You know I’d give my life for you right?”

A soft sigh escaped his lips. “I know. I want you to know that I feel the same and more.”

“More?” 

“Do you want to know how I truly feel,” He spoke so softly, it was barely a whisper. “Right here.” He took your hand in his and pressed the palm against his chest. You felt the heartbeat thundering under your hand.

The heart that beats soul and life into the man you love. The blood that protects the both of you with the best of his abilities. 

You tilted your head, patiently waiting in his warm and comfortable silence.

"It’s not just love. Obsession. It was utter madness without having you by my side. I never want to go through that again."

He pressed in closer against your body, "You could ask me to kill anyone where they stand and I would do it with no hesitation. If anyone tried to do anything to you, I'd absolutely lose my mind. I've never felt this way with another before. And yet at times you act so ignorant of my feelings. I'd die for you and you don't seem to know it."

Your breath hitched in your throat. His eyes flashed, catching the smallest of movements.

“I’m sorry. Again. I’m so sorry I hurt and left you without talking to you properly.” Your lips quivered. It was something you’d hold against yourself for the rest of your life. Fighting over a silly misunderstanding. But Noritoshi shook his head, “You had the right to be confused. I already forgave you for that.”

Noritoshi picked up your wrist and stared at the glowing Phoenix. No matter how many times he has watched your marks glow in unison, it’s something he can never get tired of. He presses a kiss into it and continues speaking against your skin, making you tremble.

"My body still has the instinct to save you. I don't know if it's because we share emotions, but everytime you're in danger, I just want to keep you away. I know you can handle it, but I can't help it. That moment when you faced that nine tailed fox the other night, I just wished I could have been more helpful. I wish I was strong enough so that you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. I want to be your equal in the battlefield."

You couldn't say anything in reply. Your throat felt so dry.

He felt slightly victorious seeing you at a loss for words. It felt good to open up to you. To make you feel the heaviness that he felt. It’s something that bothered him once, but now he just wants to drag you deeper inside the chaos in his head. It was so messed up, but he knew somehow that you’d understand.

His eyes glinted darkly, "So this relationship? Between us? I'd love for it to be a life thing. I don't want there to be any doubts. I can actually hear your thoughts in your head. I just wanted to really make it clear. It's you and me, okay?"

You nodded in a trance, whimpering a small okay. You felt him kiss the side of your face. Your neck. Everywhere.

"That's my good girl." You visibly preened at his praise, and Noritoshi eyed you knowingly.

He pulled you in for a kiss, lips moving gently against yours, tongue leaving small kitten licks over your lower lip before he bit and sucked on it. You melted against his body. 

"I love you. I love you. I love you, my heart. You're more than just half of me. All of you is mine." He put a heavy emphasis on every word, not just saying it for the sake of it. He meant it, and you knew it.

You shivered in delight, nodding. "I'm yours as long as you're all mine." You whispered. "I love you too, Noritoshi."

"Yours. I'm all yours. Promise. No one else compares." He mouthed against your lips, feeling your body quiver with each praise he utters. His hands running up and down your back. You were chest to chest now, so close to each other that you could hear his heartbeat. 

It was getting too heated too fast, so you pulled back to blurt the thoughts in your mind.

"Noritoshi, if you feel that way, then I have to also be honest. I feel greedy. For you and your love. To the point that I get jealous and I overthink too much, I’m sorry. Is that selfish of me?" You whispered, feeling scared.

He took your hand and squeezed it, "You can have all of me. It’s fine to be greedy. They say love is patient and kind. But this sort of obsession… it's okay if it's only with me." He said desperately.

“It has always been only you.” Your words were filled with so much adoration and love, that Noritoshi felt his world come to a halt at this very moment, seeing that galaxy bloom deep inside your eyes. He can hear a ringing in his ears.

You watched as he moved to lay on top of you with his arms on either side of your head.

Noritoshi grit his teeth. His body was screaming at him to just ravish you. His body was burning with a feverish heat. His skin felt too tight and hot all over, especially in his lower regions.

It took all of his self-control to hold back the tide of lust that was rising higher and higher within him, threatening to overwhelm everything.

“Toshi?” You patted the side of his torso in concern. The veins against his neck were so prominent, and he seemed to have a hard time breathing.

“Love. I’m at my limit.” He admitted, eyes shut tightly. “I know, it’s not ideal right now. We are both still recovering from our injuries, and if I do anything to you right now, I won’t be able to hold myself back.” 

He knows that it will be anything but gentle and loving. The only thing Noritoshi can see behind his eyelids is him fucking you into oblivion with everything he has to offer. 

“The past few weeks were terrible without you. I really really want to hold you now.” His voice shook towards the end of his statement.

“It’s okay.” His eyes snapped open at the sound of your voice. You looked so sure of yourself at this moment. “Whatever you want to give me, I’ll take it. I want you so much. I want all of you inside me. Now.”

He stared at you, then slowly backed away. It was like being doused with an ice cold bucket of water. 

Noritoshi thought he’d lose control, but hearing you actually brought sanity back into him. His self control snapping back into place as he ignored his throbbing length down below.

Because your words reminded him that you were a million times more impulsive than he is. And if he won’t be the voice of reason at this moment, there would be none at all.

“No.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think.

Your face scrunched up, but he hurriedly cupped your face in his hands and whispered as soothingly as he could, “I mean, I’ll give you what our bodies will allow for now. But no hard sex. No penetration. Okay?”

But you paid no heed to his words, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. He rubbed the spit over your lips after pulling it out of your mouth with a pop. “Please make love to me Toshi. I want you inside of me. Please.”

"Fuck! You’re not making this easier." His entire frame tensed as soon as he felt your leg press against his hardening length. You looked up at him with an innocent gaze as you rubbed the front of your leg harder against it. 

He growled and held you down by the shoulders. He knew your weak spot was at the junction where your throat met your collarbones, so he sucked as hard as he could and your back curved up, limbs falling flat against the bed.

“N-no faairr” you half whined half slurred as you fell back in pleasure. 

“All is fair in love and war.” He crooned as he licked up the edges of your neck. “I’ll let you have it some other day. But not now. Not tonight.”

You closed your eyes as he murmured praises again and again into your skin. “You’re perfect. I don’t need anyone else. I’m not leaving you. I love you and will take care of you. Don’t worry about anything else.” 

He was reducing you to a puddle of mush and feelings. Overwhelmed by the affection, thoughts of needing him inside you melted away as he undressed you.

His hands were so careful, handling you gently while making sure to watch out for your bandaged wounds. Some faded battle scars littered on your body.  

You lifted your hips as he pulled off your panties, leaving you completely bare. The cold air hitting your privates. 

You immediately squeaked in concern. The lights were still on. You turned and crawled to your bedside table and hit the switch, making everything go black.

“Sweetheart, are you shy?” Noritoshi’s teasing voice cut through the darkness. You switched on the soft night light beside the bed, warming up the room with its glow. “A bit.”

You felt a kiss on your butt cheek. Noritoshi bit into it and played with it, before grabbing you by the waist. He dragged you back to the center of the bed, not forgetting to put a pillow below your head.

You whined and covered your face with your hands as he spread your legs wide open, positioning himself in between. He stared at your entrance, already soaking wet and flushed such a lovely pink.

Noritoshi slowly lowered his head, mouth salivating. All he knew right then was that he was going to ravish you and eat you alive.

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. 

"It's dirty, Toshi no!" You covered your private area with your hands. He just hummed and kissed your fingers, tongue sticking out to lick them one by one. He sucked them into his mouth and swirled his tongue around them.

"Toshi…"

"I want to taste you. Your body isn't dirty, it's erotic and beautiful. Is that still a no?" He looked up at you with pleading eyes. 

Your mouth hung open. This man really. He was acting as though it would be doing him a favor rather than you.

You slowly removed your hands, watching as Noritoshi kissed your inner thighs first. He rubbed and stroked your legs until he felt your body fully relax into the bed.

He paused, waiting as you nodded at him before leaning down, eyes never leaving your face as he licked a fat stripe up your pussy. “Look at me. Don’t take your eyes off me.”

It was not a plea. It was an order.

You shook violently as he set to eating you out, eyes still pinned on yours. You felt exposed this way, as if he was watching every miniscule movement and reaction you made.

His tongue lapped its way up to the bundle of nerves above your opening. Coaxing so much of your slick out, before lapping it up and spitting then swirling his tongue over your clit. 

He changed his pace frequently, slow and languid wet strokes, then flicking his tongue rapidly for a moment, nearly bringing you to your peak, before slowing down again. 

You groaned at his teasing. He knew where he had you and it was almost frustrating.

His fingers reached up, toying with your clit, rubbing it and applying pressure as he buried his face into your privates and latched onto your opening. His eyes darkened upon hearing your gasps and whimpers.

He closed his eyes as his tongue pushed into you. Feeling the wet muscle wriggle against your walls, you started leaking more fluid. 

Noritoshi felt drunk off of your taste and smell. It was both sweet and salty, with a musk that he was starving for. He eagerly sucked, slurped, stretched your insides, before spitting on your pussy then doing it all again. 

It was sloppy. It was messy. It was everything you ever wanted, hidden in your deepest desires. 

A smirk appeared on Noritoshi’s face. This bastard felt everything through your soulmate bond, you realized with a sudden jolt.

A warm hand reached out to press your stomach back down into the sheets. Not too heavy in case you wanted to stop, but stable and firm.

Your own mouth started watering as you watched him enjoy you. Hear him moan and groan as if he was having such an exquisite meal. Did you taste that good?

The wet squelching and squishy sounds did nothing to help tame the embarrassment that was finally slowly ebbing away.

And soon enough you were turned into a drooling mess. The searing heat between your legs easily spreads across your body. Your legs felt weak and your arms felt sluggish as Noritoshi buried his face further into your wetness, chest heaving and mouth furiously working.

He didn’t let up even as you tangled your fingers in his locks and gave weak tugs. His hands had travelled up the expanse of your body, before settling on your breasts. Squeezing them, tugging your nipples, fingers pinching and flicking where he could.

You couldn't control your body anymore. With your reflexes moving against your will. Your thighs tightened around Noritoshi's head and he got the cue to move his tongue faster.

You felt a finger slip in. Then another. 

His thick calloused fingers stretched and pushed and pulled. They went in far deeper than your own fingers can and easily pushed against your sweet spot. 

More fingers slipped inside of you, until four fingers were stretching and exploring your walls. Noritoshi didn't want to draw it out for too long, so soon enough you were crying as his fingers slammed in and out of you at a rapid pace.

"Your voice is so sweet, love. Music to my ears."

You didn't realize how sore your throat felt from all the moans escaping your lips until he pointed it out. Hell, you didn’t even know you were moaning at all in the first place. 

He didn't give you anymore time to think as he brought you to your orgasm, his mouth sucking hard on your clit. Your back formed into a curved arc, trying to push up further against him.

Noritoshi held the sides of your hips with both hands as he tried to drink in all the slick that came out of you. The man didn’t even bat an eye at the way you shook in his hold. 

You collapsed back onto the bed with a loud whine, chest heaving with sweat as you relaxed into the aftermath. 

Noritoshi remained kneeling, watching you watch him as he licked his lips. The lower half of his face was wet with your slick, but the post-orgasm haze didn’t let you feel too embarrassed. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes” you replied breathily, sitting up and reaching for him. "Let me repay you. An eye for an eye, right?"

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” you cut him short. You watched his Adam’s apple contract as he swallowed before nodding.  

Noritoshi could feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He could barely move as you fought to strip him of his pajamas.

You took a deep inhale as you ran down your hands along his chest and abdominal muscles.

"You really love my body."

"Yeah damn right I do." You looked up at him hungrily, finally finding your voice once more. "I never told you what my ideal type was yet huh?" You helped pull his underwear off and set it aside. 

Noritoshi watched you hungrily as you crawled into his lap.

"Do enlighten me." He challenged you while reaching up to thumb your nipples and caress your breasts. 

"Dark sleepy eyes." You pressed a kiss against his eyelids. "Black hair." You pulled at his front bangs and pressed a kiss into that.

"Big hands." You pulled his wrist and pressed a kiss onto the centre of his palm. A beat. "Abs and pecs." Noritoshi stares as you trailed kisses and kitten licks down his front. 

From his neck, to his abs, and down down to his length. "And my favorite. A pretty, big cock." You smiled and nosed into his member. 

"Don't tell me you told Todo all that?!" He looked shaken at the thought. You snorted. "I told him all except the last one." You smiled, looking satisfied with yourself. 

Noritoshi’s eyes softened. This time you pushed him to sit and lean against the headboard, pillows fluffed up behind him.

“You comfy?” you asked.

“I always am if you’re here.” And to think you initially thought this man was intimidating.

His eyes followed your movements, watching as you settled between his legs this time.

The both of you looked down at his rod, standing stiff and straight. To Noritoshi’s credit, he didn’t look too shy or embarrassed, as he was the first time you both played around.

“You don’t have to-”

You cut him off by bending down wrapping your hand around it. Hot and pulsing. The tip of his member was an angry red. 

It twitched as you carefully held it and slowly started pumping. You could barely wrap your hand around it. But still your mouth watered at the thought of having his length inside your mouth. 

You pressed a kiss to the tip. Licking up and down like it was a popsicle stick, before taking the head into your mouth. It could barely fit to be honest. 

Noritoshi didn’t seem to care, his face flushed as he took in your image. You on all fours, bent over for his cock. 

He groaned as you used your hands to rub and twist the length that you couldn't fit into your hand. You gathered spit, pooled it into your mouth and let it drip down Noritoshi's length. 

Like a suction, you moved your mouth down the sides while spitting on it. You felt Noritoshi pause. "Have you ever done this before? It feels too good."

"I watch porn babe." He choked at that. "Don't act like you're innocent Toshi. You’re obviously not, especially when you’re with me." You continued sucking him and gripped him tighter. 

He tried to muffle his moans, watching as you mewled at the taste of his precum. It was actually sweet and his cock itself didn't taste like anything much. 

You whimpered and whined around his cock, looking up with teary eyes as you tried to swallow as much of it as you can. His chest was shiny with sweat, heaving with the energy to push back his incoming orgasm.

“Don’t-” He started, but you cupped his balls and let a low vibrating moan. Seeing his back curve inwards was delightful.

You swallowed more of him until you choked on his member, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You pulled back, mouth wide open with saliva falling out of your mouth. A whine escaped his lips. The sound was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

And you set your mind to making him cum. Hard. You swallowed around his length once more.

"Mmmmm" you quieted down your moans as you hollowed out your cheeks to suck him in deeper. "Fuck" Noritoshi threw his head back and gasped out. "You're going to make me, hahhh-" he trailed off as you bobbed your head hard and fast, trying to swallow as much of him as you could while tears fell down your cheeks.

Your wrist strained as you twisted your hand and pumped him hard and fast. You could feel his muscles tightening underneath your body, itching to cum. You squeezed his balls, enjoying how the man was falling apart in your hands. 

His length was twitching. It had definitely grown much bigger as you continued stroking him. 

He was close.

So you pulled back, leaving your mouth open as he came groaning your name. 

Spurts of cum trailed in your mouth and you sucked gently on the head of his cock, making sure to catch as much cum in your mouth as you could.

His whines were really so pretty, they gave you gooseflesh. You could listen to him be like that all day.

After his orgasm died down, you turned to him, carefully crawling up while he moved to lay flat against the sheets. 

Your bare body pressed against his. Chest to chest. His arms came up to rest against your waist, hands trailing up and down your back and ass.

You opened your mouth to show him the cum inside. His eyes widened. "Do you need to spit it" He stopped as you closed your mouth and swallowed. 

You stared at each other for a moment, before you cheekily smiled, "Thanks for the meal Toshi," and leaned forward to kiss him. 

He growled at you, shoving his tongue inside your mouth to taste himself before withdrawing. 

Both of your hands wandered downwards and it wasn’t long until he was four fingers back inside of you, knuckle deep, pistoning and thrusting wildly. Your hands squeezed and pulled at his length messily, still wet with your saliva and his cum dripping down its length. 

You threw a leg over his side, trying to get his hand to go further inside of you. Noritoshi quickly got the hint and shoved his hand in deeper, trying to press and rub against your favorite spot.

He latched onto your breasts, despite knowing that you'll probably be whining about how swollen your nipples are. He still bit as many love marks as he could. 

You both ended up coming into each other’s hands. Noritoshi spurted all over your body and legs. It felt this good and it was only his hand that he used. Your head swam with thoughts of having his cock inside of you.

You sleepily smiled up at him.

He studied your blissed out figure as you tried to move towards him. A question lingered in his eyes.

You couldn’t even muster any energy to reply. Just a weak nod, for who knows what even. But your other half understood.

Noritoshi cleaned you both up in your bathroom. He carried you to and fro the bedroom and made sure to dress you warmly.

He kissed you on the forehead before pulling the blankets over the both of you and held you close. Watching as you drifted off into dreamland in his arms.

‘It’s time,’ he thought to himself in the dark, ‘I need to bring you to see my family. And I’m not letting go of you ever again.’

---

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

NSFW Taglist: @fkngkumiko @gojoussunglasses @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @rayhaitani @nayydoesthings @a1hina  @r-rose08 @cherriesanwine @freewitchjellyfish

[rizubaby]

You're Mine | Gonta Gokuhara.

genre ; nsfw oneshot.

request ; Gonta Gokuhara with a breeding / matink kink.

summary ; being raised in the wild, Gonta's repressed primal instinct has been kept away for too long. It's time he gets to make you his, forever.

tags ; afab!reader, boyfriend experience, breeding / mating kink, slight size difference, rough sex, vulgar language.

wc ; 1,7k.

note ; ahh I absolutely LOVED writing this! Feral Gonta is what keeps me up at night, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

The rays of the morning sun gently shine through the curtains of your shared bedroom, the alarm clock next to your bed indicating it's nearly 7:00 am. Last night was one of your weekly date nights, usually consisting of cooking dinner together and watching your favourite movies or tv-shows together while you talk to each other about your week.

Gonta's laying on this back, bare chested with just his boxers on and your soft white bed sheets covering his lower half. He had just woken up, grunting softly as he stretches his arms. He groggily rubs his eyes and turns on his side, now being met with you peacefully sleeping next to him.

He's usually the one to wake up first, and he loves to start his morning off by making breakfast for you and bringing it to you while you're still laying in bed. He'll get in bed and nuzzle next to you as you eat your breakfast, talking about your plans for the day.

Not this morning, though.

Ever since you've been together, Gonta has felt a weird feeling build up inside him. He's aware of what these feelings are, but he's scared that it might ruin things for the two of you. He's very attracted to you and loves you very much, so against his better judgement, he hides this part of himself for the sake of your relationship. He's never told you about it, but unbeknownst to him, you've noticed something is holding him back, and you have a pretty good idea of what it might be.

Hoping it would make your boyfriend finally act on his urges, you decided to tease him. A LOT. You started being more suggestive in certain conversations, or you'd try to seduce him by suddenly sitting on his lap or whispering things into his ear. You could see the internal struggle Gonta was having with himself. All he could think about in those moments was just absolutely destroying you and filling you with his seed. He was content with the vanilla-y sex you two had, sure, but it always took a lot for him to hold himself back and not absolutely ravage you, and he wouldn't be sure what would happen once he'd let himself go.

You decided to wear some... suggestive clothing to bed, in the hopes of making him want to do things to you. And it worked. Gonta slowly moved closer towards you and gently caressed your sides. His face was flushed red, feeling a tent already forming inside his tight boxers.

God, he loved how you looked in that. The color of your silk sleepwear complimented your skintone beautifully and the sheer lace left little to the imagination. He wrapped his big arms around you and gently pulled you against him, his hard-on poking against your butt.

Feeling something poke against you and the weight of his arms around your waist, you slowly opened your eyes. You let out a soft yawn and teasingly rubbed your body even closer against his. "Good morning, baby."

Without saying a word, Gonta held you even tighter as he started planting sloppy little kisses along your neck and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. You could tell he was at the verge of breaking, and that all that was on his mind right now was fucking you senseless. His breath against your skin made your body weak, feeling your nipples harden by the sensation of his bulge right against your entrance.

"S-S/o... Gonta apologize... H-He not contain himself any longer," he mumbles, his tone noticably lower than how he usually talks. You feel your face burning up, reaching up to gently caress his face. "It's okay baby... I don't mind," you whisper, grabbing his hand that was resting on your sides and guiding it up towards your chest.

You hear him gasp softly, even feeling his bulge twitch slightly by the sudden sensation of his large hands on your chest. Gonta immediately gets up and turns you around in one swift motion, now hovering above you as you're facing him directly. Your flushed faces finally meet each other, and you can see a look of lust and desperation in his red eyes.

"H-Honey... G-Gonta want to tell you something," he starts, clearly ashamed about bringing this topic up. You look into his eyes and nod in anticipation. "Gonta... Want to make you his, forever. He... Want to mate with you."

Your face flushes bright red and you place your hands on his face, bringing him in for a passionate, lustful kiss. "I know... Go ahead baby, make me yours," you whisper into his ear, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Like the flick of a lightswitch, something snapped inside him and the last ounce of hesitation disappeared from his mind. His primal instinct had now fully overridden his gentlemanly ways and he hungrily started kissing down your chest, wasting no time in forcefully pulling your clothing off of you, exposing your beautiful naked body. He made his way down your tummy and hips, kissing and leaving hickeys everywhere. He wanted to mark you, making sure everyone would know you're his mate. If you were to walk a little weird the next day with marks all over your body, then so be it.

"G-Gonta..!" You exclaimed as you felt him kiss the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your wet entrance that was eagerly awaiting for him to slip inside. You let your fingers run through his messy hair and held on tight, preparing yourself for the immense pleasure you were about to receive. And he did not disappoint.

He started lapping at your clit and folds, his tongue working it's magic as you arched your back in response. You knew he was good at this, but it was even better when he was in a state of pure primal instinct, wanting to make you so wet that the sounds of you two fucking would be heard from down the street. You heard his hungry groans from between your legs, his big strong hands holding a steady grip on your ankles. You felt your climax approaching, your legs twitching from the pure extacy Gonta's mouth was giving you.

Your climax was about ten times stronger than it usually was, your eyes rolling back as you let out a surprisingly loud moan.

"B-Baby please, p-please fuck me... I need you inside me-" you begged, frantically searching for him with your hands. Not even having enough time to completely come down from your high, Gonta swiftly lifted your legs in the air and over his shoulders. Because of his large physique, You felt like you were almost hanging upside down as your legs hung over his broad shoulders. He looked at you with a wild and lustful expression, instantly telling you that there was no backing down from this. Once he had claimed you as his mate, there was no going back.

He slid the tip of his cock in between your folds, audibly grunting. The feeling of just your entrance without a condom was incredible. He could not believe he was actually doing this with you. His brows furrowed and he gave you one last look before pushing into you all at once, the both of you letting out a loud moan in response. God, he was huge, and without a condom you could feel all of him, his tip already pushing against your cervix without even moving. You grabbed onto his forearms with all your might, feeling him start to move and quickly picking up the pace. His huge cock thrusting in and out of you with an incredible speed made you gasp for air, your eyes starting to tear up from the immense pleasure.

Gonta leaned in for another kiss and groaned loudly, like a wolf hunting it's prey. He felt like a completely different person, pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. Seeing you writhe underneath him and nearly lose your mind from how hard and fast he was going made him so close. He stopped for a moment, quickly turning you around on all fours and pushing back into you just as fast. You felt your body getting weaker and weaker, becoming a trembling mess with your ass up in the air as Gonta was rearranging your insides.

"F-Fuck, Gonta y-yes, oh my god..!" you managed to blurt out as uncontrollable moans spilled out of you, his grip on your hips tightening and his nails digging into your skin. He was pounding into you relentlessly, all while hitting all the right spots.

"A-Ah, s-s/o feel so good around Gonta-" he grunted. You moaned loudly into your pillow as your second orgasm washed over you, screaming out his name. The feeling of your walls clenching tightly around him was what finally made him tip over, his huge load of cum finally bursting inside you. He moaned out your name as he came inside, biting your neck in response as he felt your walls milk him of every last drop.

"Is... Is s/o okay?" Gonta panted, slightly worried that he might have just broken you. You nodded in response, not being able to form a cohesive sentence after being filled to the brim with his hot load. A small pool of saliva had formed on the pillow you used to muffle your moans, both of your faces flushed red from the intense sex you two just had. But this wasn't the end of it.

After letting you rest for a little bit, he bred you about three more times before finally collapsing on top of you, panting heavily. Your entire body was marked with bruises and hickeys, and so was Gonta's. Afterwards, he kissed you all over and got you something to drink and a wet cloth for your bruises. The look of satisfaction and slight horror at the sight of you after having just bred you like four times was kind of adorable, so you pulled him towards you and snuggled up against him.

"That was... unbelievable. I love you so much, Gonta..." You managed to get out, your voice sore from all the moaning and screaming. You gently rested your head on his chest as you let your finger twirl around a lock of his messy green hair.

"Gonta very happy s/o did this with him. Gonta loves you a thousand times!" he exclaimed, hugging you even tighter.

"Now s/o is Gonta's mate, forever."