#i removed the knife btw ^_^

[kiochisato]

♡　＃　𓂃　Kobeni ( csm ) rentry Graphics ! ❥　.　➶　 requested by anon. enjoy !

@/inoitoh on twt/X for the art in the 4th graphic !

( yes , i know the 2nd graphic is rimi but csm collab .. and kobeni fitz her )

[sableprince]

i think jazzmine would wear casseus' jacket better than he does, he doesnt have the pizazz. the flair. the moxie, even.

so i gave him her suspenders in exchange...

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

GUINEA PIG ───

jonathan crane ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I think we most fully understood each other when once I tried to kill him with a kitchen knife.” — ‘South and West’, Joan Didion

pairing. switch!jonathan crane x professor!reader

summary. you and your dear friend, jonathan crane, have an odd relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. one day, you experiment your aphrodisiac on him.

warnings. swearing, use of aphrodisiac & fear toxin, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, mention of death, murder, drugs, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink, face fucking, dubcon(?) SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. the enemies to friends to fucking pipeline is sooo real and i love it. BTW! this is really self indulgent and again, i’m a beginner to writing smut so pls don’t judge😭 the beginning is also oddly plotty, so i apologize for that.

You and your colleague, Jonathan Crane, have a harmonious, albeit slightly sick and twisted, relationship. 

Your repertoires, opposite in every way, complete one another like you were made to match. You are messy, frenzied, intimate; he is neat, calculated, distant. He is impatient, histrionic, stubborn. You are tolerant, deadpan, submissive. 

This is an odd, good-cop bad-cop dynamic you’ve built, but it works. Your traits uphold the order you’ve built around yourselves; you allow each other to function. 

Who ever said something so codependent, so parasitic, would fall apart? That it was dangerous, destructive? Everyone, but in your case, it has been anything but. 

These are the simple rules of your relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. This partnership came to bloom when, after years of competing to be the “better” psychology professor at Gotham University, he sent you a gift that sprayed with you with fear toxin, and you baked him a cake that knocked him out for 24 hours following, heart rate so low he could’ve been mistaken as dead. 

“Fucking - hell,” You murmured under your breath, stumbling halfway across Gotham City to locate Crane’s absurdly lavish condo in the Diamond District, barely able to keep yourself upright. 

You were being visually assaulted by dozens of images, all your phobias no matter big or small, dancing across your senses. Spiders crawled all over your body, you saw yourself about to step off a steep, snowy cliff, you felt yourself suffocate as you were buried to death in a casket. It was utter torture, and you would have to endure it until you found Crane. 

You must’ve looked like one of those tweaking drug addicts from down in the Narrows, shivering, sweating, and rubbing all over your body to remove some of the “spiders” taking over your body. The terror was settling into you, into your spine like a terribly malignant disease. 

At last, you found the apartment building, blearily snuck in behind a drunk couple, and scanned the mail boxes until you found J. CRANE: 525. 

You headed up the elevator, grasping at the walls for dear life, feeling that growing, unmistakable sense of dread start to take over your mind. You felt like you were going mad, now, not just afflicted with something that made you look like it. 

When you finally got to his door, it was left open a crack, and you welcomed the small mercy of Crane’s overarching narcissism: he didn’t lock his door, often, because most days he felt more invincible than fucking god. 

“Crane!” You shouted, clutching at your head and staggering into his large apartment. “Crane!” you repeated, this time more desperate, more fearful than anything. 

However, your deepest fear, at the moment, had come true. You stepped into his kitchen, and found the man laying on the floor unresponsive. 

“Fuck me,” you cursed. You’d sent the man home with the cake twelve hours ago, when he took the half-day off from GSU, and you came home from your after-class tutoring hours just moments ago. 

You’d opened the mystery package on your front porch promptly, and you found yourself having been gassed with a compound that made you see every little thing you were afraid of. Immediately, you’d known it was Crane; the man’s pet specialty was fear. 

As for you, you wanted your… gift, to serve a reminder to him that he should not overstep your boundaries, your territory, as the psychology professor who was there first. If knocking him out was a little bit mad, he was bordering insanity for the toxin he poisoned you with. 

Even so, your threat was an empty one. You weren’t counting on the man to even eat the cake - hell, you’d never seen the man consume anything but straight black coffee. 

You couldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know now, and laid there on the couch of his apartment, waiting for the twelve hours to be over. Waiting for Crane, the fucking madman, to wake the hell up, blaming him for the predicament despite your very obvious involvement in it.

You breathed in and out, harried and rapid fire as you tried to focus, tried to block out the horrific things you were seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting. 

(Your eyes are swarmed, viscerally, by a grotesque hallucination of your family burning to death; you hear them cry out, voices interrupted when they’re fire gets to their lungs; you smell their death, the smell of flesh burning, how the smoke chokes you — you taste their blood on your tongue, how tender a raging fire makes charred flesh. 

Tender, you think on your choice of words again, and almost throw up.

What have you done, you think, and what is going through that fucked up head of yours, Crane?)

You tried to ground yourself, tether your lost mind back to Earth. You’re sitting in a field in Northwestern Ireland, you said to yourself, inhaling. Up ahead is the beach; water is crashing on the rocks. You exhaled, the wind tastes like salt, and it is just you and I, here together. It is only I and you, here, together. 

Like so, 12 hours passed. Not so much passed — that word gave the connotation the hours slipped past you, the way a peaceful stream of water does; no, more accurately, it dragged by, like when an arm slips out of the ambulance cot on its way to the emergency vehicle, and drags on the concrete. The EMT’s don’t notice what’s making their trip so hard, so slow, until the hand is rubbed raw and bloody. 

You repeated that mantra so many times you were starting to get queasy when you thought the words “you’re sitting in a field..” but nonetheless, the string of words kept you sane. 

Sane enough, at least - you weren’t sure you’d be the same blissful person you were yesterday. Sure, you were always a little bit… unorthodox? Petty? Competitive enough to bake so many drugs into a cake your opposing professor knocks out? 

But, with this — this being drugged by Crane — made you feel a piece of yourself break away. There would be no more of your life lived without knowing how fearful, well, fear, is. It's like discovering the Boogeyman and never being able to stop checking under your bed; the paranoia moves into your head and never leaves. 

Crane began stirring, and your eyes opened as soon as you heard the noise. Surprisingly enough, however, you were no longer being hammered with the hallucinations that had been distressing you just half a day ago. 

Had it been the mantra? The near-prayer you now swore was etched on your heart? 

“Fucking…” Crane said, getting up off the floor. He was clutching his head, eyes squinted, body hunched and tense. Looks like spending half a day on the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but you didn’t give a fuck — atleast he was sleeping. If you had to be mentally destroyed by his toxin, you’d best believe you were taking the couch. 

“Why - why are you here? What the hell did you do to me?” He said after noticing you, voice raspy. He hadn’t had anything to drink or eat in a while, after all. 

“I could say the fucking same for you,” You muttered, giving him a pointed look. “You - what the fuck did you spray me with?”

Immediately, a twisted grin was bared on Crane’s lips, despite his fatigued demeanor. “Did you like it? My fear-toxin,” he preened, like the winning kid at a school science fair.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could control your tendencies, you’d swung back and then socked him straight in the face. 

Crane double-backed, looking terribly affronted, as if he hadn’t sent you the gas knowing how it would affect you. “Ow,” is all he said, face contorting oddly around the pain. 

“Yeah, “ow”. Fuck you, Crane.”

Crane raised a brow. “You’re acting like you didn’t feed me a poisoned cake!” He said incredulously.

“It wasn’t that poisoned,” you bit out, teeth gritted. “Not so poisoned I was hallucinating my family dying for twelve hours straight.”

“Ah, thanatophobia, not really one of my favourites—“ Crane started, like he was losing himself in a romantic daydream, before snapping back to reality. “Did you just say twelve hours?”

“Twelve hours for me. Twenty-four for you.” You said, reveling in how panicked he looked. 

“I — that’s long enough for me to be killed a hundred times over,” he mumbled under his breath. “What the fuck did you put in that cake?”

“I never expected you to eat it, Crane. You’re fucking skin and bones, I thought you’d just throw it out.”

“What did you put in the cake?” he repeated. 

“Ugh,” you sunk into the couch, “some amytal, zolpidem. Some melatonin. I didn’t measure, okay, and again, I wasn’t counting on you eating it.” You didn’t know why you had this urging feeling to respond to him, to humor his jabs, his dumb fucking theatrics, but you did anyway. 

“Some amytal? Some zolpidem? Some melatonin? Jesus fucking christ - is that what you wanted? To kill me?” He was leaning down, face inches away from yours now. 

You pushed him away, disgust on your features clear as day. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not some sociopathic fear-freak like you, Crane. I don’t mix compounds in my creepy little office with the thought of drugging out my fellow professor in mind. It was just an empty threat.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “Mixing barbiturates and medications into a cake sounds like an empty threat to you?”

“You know what?” You said brightly, getting up off the couch, “I don’t have to argue with you. I came to get my cure, woke up having cured myself.” Then, you burst out the door, fury rolling off you in waves, and you left.

There was something about the incident, however, that seemed to intrigue Crane to no end. Soon enough, he began entering your office during your breaks, asking to have a chat. Or, he’d walk in during your lessons, forcing you two in the hall alone. Sometimes, he’d even wait for you after school, dozing off in front of your classroom and waiting for you to exit your office. 

You couldn’t tell what was making Crane so interested, but he was hanging off you and your every word like some lovesick puppy.

You, on the other hand, also couldn’t get Crane out of your head. Certainly not for some weird, fucked up reason like his, but because of what he had created. A lot of people doubted his intelligence, mostly because of his obsession on things nobody really cared about, but that obsession made way to the destructive fear-toxin you’d inhaled, and it was seriously unlike anything you’d ever experienced, hell, even read about. It was a brand new creation, and downright deadly. 

Your interest in the man was more so on… keeping him in check. As rivals did. But his was on how you’d breezed past the effects of his toxin in just twelve hours. He’s expected you to go half mad, honestly. Your threat was empty… his was, decidedly, not. 

By the end of the next week following the incident, you two began eating lunch together, asking for joint classes, and spending nights over at each other's places. Not in that way, of course — your way was like a group of scientists having a forever eureka, because your minds fit like perfect puzzle pieces. 

Your intrigue had met his intrigue, and it felt natural, coming to a united front like that. You found you had more in common than you thought, something you should’ve found out about a long time ago, 3 ½ years kind of long time ago. Apart, you two were volatile; angry, spewing threats, attempting murder on the other. Together, however, you were absolute perfection: productive, well-mannered, motivated. 

Now, fast-forward coming on two years since the incident. You and Crane - now, Jonathan, have been inseparable since that time. You two were close, closer than siblings or children and parents or couples; you felt like the same person that had been split into two. Being together was the only thing that felt right, being back at the origin, like being at home. 

Fuck’s sakes, you did have the same home — you’d moved in together. Not to his, nor yours, but to a big house you bought on the outskirts of Gotham, with a big yard and an even bigger lab in the basement. It was like a scientist's amusement park. 

Maybe it - this relationship of yours - was codependency. But maybe it was utter genius: your careers had both never seen so many accomplishments until you and Jonathan came together. Partly because you had a greater inspiration when coupled with the other, but, mostly because you had a body to test on during preliminary trials. 

Creating things, like the fear-toxin, required human testing, and finding a way to get that done always slowed Jonathan down. Since finding you, however, it’d been a breeze. 

You offered yourself up readily, given Jonathan would do the same. And, besides, Jonathan had never been worried about you and his toxin very much — after that first time you took the toxin, you could easily find yourself out of its effects. You were the only person he’d ever encountered who could do this, and it was downright fascinating. He wanted to keep you, see how that strong little mind of yours worked overtime to fight his toxin off. 

You, on the other hand, rarely tested anything like that on Jonathan. Your interests lied elsewhere: what smells activate the human mind to recall memories, what are ways to accurately fight off drugs like GHB — all mental stimulation. 

That, however, changed one evening, when you had been brewing up a serum for the past few weeks. You’d gotten to the point in creation where you needed to test on someone, and observe the effects. 

“Jonathan,” you called out, looking down at your notes. The man in question was grading assignments for the psychology class you taught — now, in joint lessons more often than not — sitting at a desk a few metres away from you in the lab. 

“Jonathan!” you repeated louder this time, looking up from your notes. 

“What?” He shouted back, still hunched over on the ungodly amount of assignments he needed to mark. 

“Come here. I need to test something on you.” You said, nonchalant. 

That, however, piqued Jonathan’s interest to no end: you hadn’t tested anything on him in nearly a year. It hurt, a little, to test you endlessly and have nothing to give in return - so this, no matter what it was, Jonathan would take in stride.

Jonathan nodded vehemently, “Okay.” He then dropped all he’d been doing on the desk and made his way over, before sitting in the chair next to you. You made quick work, tying his arms and legs to the chair like he’d done to you so many times before. He watched you work, completely enraptured in how you looked while experimenting. 

“So,” He said, tearing his sticky gaze off of you, “what’re you pumping me full of?”

You sat back in your desk chair and scratched your cheek, a little unsure how to say this. “Well, I created a serum that, once injected, would lower or lose all inhibitions of the victim. They’d be completely malleable, agreeable, if you just, um,” you fanned yourself, feeling a little too close to the man in front of you, room feeling incredibly warm.

“Just what?” He pried, leaning back in his chair. 

You exhaled shakily, “if you just promise to - to provide relief to them. Sexual - relief.”

Jonathan let out an incredulous laugh. “You made a working aphrodisiac?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly — I don’t even know if it works, for sure. If you don’t want to- take it, then you don’t have to.” You offered up weakly. 

“How d’you get it out of the system?” He said instead, ignoring your words and picking up the needle you had ready for him on your worktable, which was filled with a thick, pink liquid. 

You flushed. “You, um, help the victim relieve themselves, until the feeling is gone.” 

Jonathan looked up at you, a sly smirk on his lips. “And you were going to give this to me?” 

You turned away, face red, exasperated. “I told you, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

“And let you pleasure some random guy you snatched off the street? No way,” he said, before you heard a familiar prick, small whine leaving Jonathan’s mouth.

You spun back around so fast you thought you got whiplash. “Jonathan, wait—“ you said, alarmed. You were really, seriously, considering not giving the aphrodisiac to him — it would disrupt the careful balance you and he had built over the past years. 

You were afraid that if he took the serum, and let you, for lack of a better word, get him off, you wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering him needy, hot and bothered, calling your name out like it was the only word he knew. 

He’d done it anyway, though. And now, you both just had to get through this… experiment. 

Quickly, you grabbed your pen and notebook, ready to approach this scenario as detached and clinically as possible, ignoring the pulsing need in your insides as you saw Jonathan’s face slowly contort into a warm, heavy-lidded lustful one. 

“How do you feel, Jonathan?” You said, standing further away from him so he couldn’t so much as feel your body heat on him. 

“I…” Jonathan blinked rapidly, licking his lips, looking you up and down. “Warm. I just feel… warm.” He readjusted in the seat, unable to sit still. “And - kind of, tingly? Like I - well, I don’t know…”

You noted his words, as well as some of your own observations: his pupils were dilated, so much so the crystalline blue of his eyes were merely slivers, his lips were pursed, plump, and he was pink all over; pink cheeks, pink ears, pink neck. He was talkative, loose-lipped and a little out of it.

You inhaled, then exhaled, before starting the next phase of the experiment. “Jonathan, how do you feel when I touch you here?” You said, raising the back of your hand to caress his cheek. 

Jonathan was affected almost immediately, eyes shutting tight. “It feels,” he said breathily, leaning into your touch, “ah… nice. Good.”

You nodded, promptly pulling away as soon as he’d finished his sentence. Subject enjoys physical touch. Jonathan then peered up at you, looking slightly… disappointed? 

You shook yourself, getting back on task. “How do you feel now?” You pried, noticing he looked far more affected than before. 

Beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead, making his wavy brown hair stick to his skin. He was breathing heavily, and, when you had touched him, he was extremely warm, like he had a fever. 

“I’m, I…” Jonathan trailed off, eyes shutting, shaking his head. “Mmm… my head feels — fuzzy,” he bit out raspily. 

“Okay. Good. It's exactly as I thought,” you murmured, continuing to scratch down notes. 

You ignored him for a few minutes, writing up a list of side effects and observed results of the aphrodisiac. Then, your gaze drew back to him, who had been focussing intently on you the whole time. 

“Jonathan?” you called out quietly, seeing his dazed expression. “Talk to me.”

Jonathan shuddered, leaning forward in the chair, head hanging low, “My - my body’s, hnngh… it feels— feels weird.” He bit his lip, face screwed up and tense. “I’m warm all over…”

His shoulders were hunched in, and he was trembling. You lifted a hand up to his head, petting him softly, carding your fingers through his hair. 

“Ah…” Jonathan squeaked out at your touch, face going slack, “I feel like I need you to - to…” he sighed exasperatedly, “I need you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek conflictedly. On one hand, you needed to finish up a few more tests, meaning Jonathan would be teased - or tortured, depending on how fast the aphrodisiac was affecting him - a little longer. On the other hand, he was already a breathy mess, begging for your touch. For you. 

“Fuck,” you murmured, turning away from the man who’s eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head at the way you tugged at his locks. “No, no,” you fought your internal struggle. You would not give in to his pleas - you would finish this experiment. 

“Okay. Okay.” you said to no-one but yourself, extracting your hand from his velvet soft hair. “Let’s be professional about this. Jonathan, I’m going to take your clothes off, but you can’t move, and you can’t touch me, okay?”

Jonathan’s breathing became more labored as you spoke, and you swore you could see desperate tears filling his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t touch you? But… but why not?” He was practically whining for you.

“Because, Jonathan, it wouldn’t be beneficial to the experiment.” You didn’t look your partner in the eye, because his complete and total change in behavior had you feeling, quite frankly, as warm as him. 

You continued by undoing the restraints on his arms and legs, and his sharp intakes of breath as your fingers brushed past his skin didn’t slip past you. Not at all. 

Firstly, you undid the man’s white button-up shirt slipping it past his flushed torso. Jonathan’s skin was actually pink and warm all over, and he was breathing heavily now, gripping the chair so tight his knuckles were white. 

“Are you okay, Jonathan?” you asked absently, as you began unbuckling his belt and slipping down his fly. 

Jonathan’s breath hitched in his throat, and he didn’t answer you, biting down on his lower lip to stop any desperate moans from escaping him. 

You finally finished undressing your partner, then redid his restraints, before you stepped back to see him fully. Jonathan was shivering, faint tear tracks on his pink cheeks, head cocked back. 

“It’s just - one, or two more tests, Jonathan.” You murmured quietly, kneeling down in front of him. 

Your hands pressed flat on his thighs, rubbing him up and down, grazing your fingers lightly on his feverish skin. You had to regularly ground yourself, stop yourself from inching up to the poor, untouched tent in his boxer shorts. 

Above you, you could hear Jonathan let out a low groan, “Ah, hnng— please,” he called out to no-one in particular.

“Does that - feel good, Jonathan?” You ask, getting back up on your feet. His desperate groans were getting to you now, how needy his little keens were. 

“So - good,” he panted. “Your— you, I want— need, I need…” he trailed off, babbling, lost to the pleasure of your touch. 

“Jonathan, if I… touched you more, would you do anything for me?” You said finally. The invention of the aphrodisiac was intended to sway someone's motivations, make them bend to your will. Sure, there was that added sexual aspect, but it was created with less… pleasurable intentions. 

“Anything, anything at all,” he said deliriously, rolling his head around. “Jus’… just need you to- touch me.”

“Would you give yourself fear-toxin, Jonathan?”

“Yes! Yes, just — please… please! Stop asking me— questions… I need you so fucking bad, ah…”

“Jesus,” you said. Your aphrodisiac was stronger than you thought. You were satisfied, however, with the results of it. The first trial was a success, and you saw how you could use this on anyone - even people in particular positions of power, and get them to do your bidding. Quite helpful, indeed. 

Now, you needed to… get Jonathan out of this state. By, ah, relieving him.

You had decided to do this, to test him, so you had to be responsible and help ease him out of this experiment. Quickly, you stripped your own clothing, even your underwear, before undoing the restraints on his arms and legs. 

Jonathan’s eyes widened as he watched you undress. “Are you - are you… gonna t—touch me? Now? Please?” He practically begged, almost drooling at the sight of your naked body. 

“Mhm,” you said, a tremble in your voice. “Gon’ help you get out of this.”

Then, you climbed onto Jonathan’s lap, shutting your eyes as you felt his hard cock within his boxer shorts slide between your legs deliciously. 

He let out a guttural groan as your weight pressed down on him, feeling your wetness soak his shorts. That measly piece of fabric was all that was keeping him from entering your plush, velvet folds, and he was going practically insane at the feeling. 

“M’god,” Jonathan whined out, leaning his sweaty head on your shoulder. “Y’feel so, a—ah, good…”

You couldn’t help the breezy laugh that made its way out of you. “I haven’t even touched you yet, Jonathan, and you’re already so worked up,” you whispered in his ear, hot breath fanning on his warm skin.

“P-pleeeease,” He begged, slowly grinding into you. Jonathan was barely coherent, mind just focussed on chasing the release he so desperately needed.

You raised a brow, but complied, slipping your warm hands down his boxer shorts and pulling his thick length out. You pumped him lazy, feeling how he writhed under you, tasteful whimpers slipping out of his mouth. 

After another second of you stroking him lightly, your thumb grazing past the tip and collected a decent amount of precum, he actually did come, wet hot load spurting upwards on his chest and your face. “Ah - hnngh, oh my — oh my god,” he drooled, jutting into your hand. 

It dripped down from your cheek onto your lips, and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the pleasure. You swiped a handful of his cream off your face, before covering his still hard, curved cock with it. 

“You’re not done, aren’t you?” You said to him quietly, his hips stuttering as you artfully smeared his come on himself. Jonathan was arching into your touch, completely putty in your hands. 

“Nuh- no, m’still— still need you, need you so bad.” he whimpered shamefully, hands stuck to your waist.

“Look at you go,” you found yourself cooing, dragging a creamy hand down his equally as creamy chest, your fingernails grazing him. “Let me take care of you.”

Then, you lifted yourself up off his lap, and carefully situated your slit on the tip of his head. “Christ,” you called out as you slid down, “you’re fucking big,” 

Inch by inch, you took him, and Jonathan’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head, a string of senseless groans and whines leaving his mouth. “Feels so warm, so so warm,” he choked out at last, looking at you adoringly. 

You started to lift out of him, your cunt stinging slightly at the sheer size of his cock, when you felt a heated liquid shoot through you, Jonathan’s knees buckling under your ass. 

He’d come, again, even before you could get started. You shook your head incredulously at the terribly horny man beneath you, eyes glazed over in the pure ecstasy he was feeling. 

“Stop, fucking — coming,” you scolded, bottoming his cock into you once more, “you’re gonna get me so — ah— fucking - pregnant if you keep coming.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan said sheepishly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Can’t help it— you feel so — hnngh — feel so good.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, then focussed on getting a good pace of sliding in and out, your hips rolling deeper and deeper into his own. You were bouncing quickly on his cock, dick-riding him like you’d never done before. 

With all other sexual partners you had, they wanted to be all vanilla, always just missionary, going slow until they were close, no sense of creativity or any other wishes that just feeling you. With Jonathan - especially in the state he was in now - you could do whatever you wanted, as long as his cock was in your cunt. 

“Good — god,” you screamed out, when Jonathan suddenly gained control over himself and snapped into you, rough hands pinching the flesh of your hips. He rutted into you, hard and fast, for a moment like that continually, before his control melted once more into nothingness, and all he could do was let you take the reins. 

“Please— how’re you so — ah, how does your pussy feel so good…” he murmured, trailing off into a high-pitched moan when you pulled out, then just as fast sunk down on him. 

Jonathan’s fingers trailed up your body, rubbing at your soft flesh, before they found your breasts, kneading you tenderly. He chanced several licks on both your erect nipples, and you shuddered, tightening around him. Your cunt was sucking him in, devouring his length no matter how big he was, and he could feel how his length was stretching your walls wide open. 

“So fucking big.” You panted, arms wrapping around his neck, “fat fucking cock all needy, just me.”

“Jus’… just for you! All - ah, all for you,” Jonathan repeated with a squeak, lips bitten delicately between his teeth. 

Your hands trailed all over his body, and as the pleasure was getting to you, making your head dizzy and your thoughts foggy, you bounced down on him and your nails scratched up his back, surely leaving small wounds. 

This miniscule amount of pain seemed to amplify Jonathan’s endless pleasure, and you could feel him pumping you full of his come once again, the tip of his dick pressed flush against your cervix. His come made you feel so full, fuller than you already did with his monstrous cock nestled into you, continually rubbing up on the toe-curlingly spongy spot in your cunt every time you pushed him back in. 

“Mmf,” Jonathan groaned, pleasure muffling whatever he was was going to say, “m’gonna… gonna get you pregnant,”

“Yeah?” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut, “Is that what this needy cock wants? To get my wet cunt full and me pregnant?”

“Yes, yes, hnngh, please, wanna come - wanna come more,” Jonathan cried out. 

“‘kay, okay,” you nodded vehemently, “then make this pussy feel good.” 

Then, you slid out with a whimper, two loads worth of come spilling out of your worn-out cunt, turning around so your ass would face him, before you sunk back down on him. You were chasing your own pleasure now, the unmistakable feeling rumbling within your lower stomach. 

Jonathan was completely fucked out, just a shaking, hot and bothered mess on the sticky wooden chair you’d both occupied, but he still welcomed your warm pussy back on him with open arms. Your folds beat any other cunt he’d ever been in, and he knew nothing, not even his own hand, could match up to how addicting you were, how delectably you took him. 

The new angle had you reeling, your hands gripping Jonathan’s thighs for some much-needed support. You were buckling, getting weaker with every bounce, but were still desperate for release. It affected Jonathan too, and he was pressing his face up against your hair, biting down lightly on your shoulder to collect himself despite the earth-shattering pleasure you were inflicting on him. 

Your fleshy cunt met his rock-solid cock every moment perfectly, and soon enough your back was arching, head leaning back on Jonathan’s shoulder. That knot in your stomach was tightening, a fire burning within you and begging you not to stop.

Jonathan’s needy hands were coursing all over your body, rubbing on you in all the right places, and when his calloused fingers began pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples, you saw white. That burning feeling dragged across your entire body, your jaw tensing, and you felt positively fuzzy, pure pleasure destroying all coherent thoughts you’d been having, your mind now focussed on the insane way he made you orgasm. 

There was nothing that could compare to how you felt now, this being the hardest you’d orgasmed in your entire life. There was just something about Jonathan — be it how unbelievably big he was, or perhaps the odd tension that surrounded you two for the past few years — that made this experience ten times, no, a hundred times, better.

It was like his dick had been artfully crafted to stretch you out and stuff you full; that thick cock, made just for you. 

In place of your weakening strength, Jonathan kept his hand tweaking your breast, and his other hand gripped your hip tightly, helping you bounce up and down on his cock. Thus, the pleasure was maximized by his touch, and you rode out your high like that for a few more long moments. 

You stayed there, on his lap panting and drooling, for a few more seconds, before you climbed off of him, grimacing at the loss of his sweet cock in you. 

You stood shakily, feeling his come ooze out of your sticky hole, and you were surprised to see that Jonathan was still hard. He was panting, head leaning against the chair, hands and legs trembling, but his dick could probably still pump out another round of come. 

You did always wondering how he’d taste, and after seeing how long and thick he was, you wanted to know if his dick could make you cry, too. So, you kneeled down on the cold floor, pulling him by the ankles a little further off the chair, so you could get better access to him, and buried your pretty little head between his shaking thighs. 

“What’re you— doing?” Jonathan said blearily, but before he could continue, your soft lips wrapped around him, and your tongue began artfully swiveling his sensitive head.

The loudest moan you’d heard so far was drawn out of Jonathan, and more, similar noises came out of him. It was nonsensical, and unintelligible, but you could tell he was having the time of his life — as if he hadn’t just orgasmed three times prior. 

You started slowly, mouth taking his cock until you felt like you couldn’t anymore, before forcing past that point and making yourself take him to the back of your throat. Tears lined the rims of your eyes, your head swimming from lack of oxygen, but you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to hear him whimper and whine out from how good you were servicing him, his pretty groans reaching your ears like music. 

You pulled his cock out of your mouth when you felt like you were going to pass out, and then you began lapping up at his cock, sucking and curving your tongue around his long length. You sucked him hard and fast, and then, his hands grappled at your hair. 

At this point, you believed the aphrodisiac was wearing off, and Jonathan, now a little more clearheaded, began face fucking you, filling your sweet mouth full with his filthy cock. He couldn’t resist doing so, especially with you looking up at him through your tear-stained lashes, hollowing out your cheeks and gripping his thighs like your life depended on it. 

You gagged on him, several times, but he didn’t care, and with a jolted thrust past your swollen lips, he came, squirting all he had left down your throat. You sucked and swallowed every drop of him into your mouth, loving the taste of his salty liquid. 

Now, you were both fucked out, beyond tired, the strain on your muscles settling in. Your core had been properly exercised, what with how many times you rutted into Jonathan, and he, similarly, had a strained back with how much he arched into your touch, his aphrodisiac-clouded mind wanting nothing more but to be touched by you. 

“Good god, woman,” Jonathan said, collapsing into the wooden chair, which was sticky with sweat, come and your cunt’s soaking wetness. “You could’ve just said you wanted to fuck,”

You panted, dropping down onto the cold floor beneath you and wincing. “We’re — we were, just friends.”

He waved away your words, “We live together, darling. Not quite sure if that's “just” friends.”

You looked up at him, before laughing agreeably. “Felt good though, didn’t it?” A smug grin made its way on your lips, remembering how submissive Jonathan had been, how desperate he’d been just for the slightest bit of touch. 

“Amazing,” he said exasperatedly. “But next time, you’re not topping.”

“Next time, huh?” You said brightly, shakily getting up. Jonathan helped you, both of you limping exhaustedly up the stairs to your actual house, where you really should’ve been fucking, instead of the clinical environment of your large basement lab.

Jonathan’s hands found your ass, pulling you flush against him and kneading the flesh roughly. “Why not? Don’t you wanna know how I fuck?” he whispered suggestively into your ear, nibbling at the lobe. 

“I think, you’ve still got some aphrodisiac in you, Jon.” you said, laughing breezily. 

[gojoscinnamonroll]

“how fun it’s going to be to fuck rip your insides out”

whatever you do… don’t fuck the psycho killer!!!

warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni, slight knife play, INO AS GHOSTFACE MHMM :3 (takuma girlies this one is for u mwahh), ino x fem reader , oral + unprotected , fingering, stalking , pet names , use of y/n , everything is consented btw

word count: 1.6k

a/n: fun fact this fic was based on a dream i had the other night LOL freak

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

you were cozied up in your bedroom of the apartment that you shared with your best friend, utahime, alone one night watching horror movies (like a psychopath :D ) because she had left to go to a halloween party that one of her boyfriend’s frat friends was throwing.

“are you sure you don’t want to come y/n? i’ll feel bad just leaving you here, especially with that rumor of that ghostface slasher guy going around… you’ll probably be safer with us, y’know?” your bestie asked out of concern.

“yes ‘hime, ill be fine don’t worry!!! plus i know im going to be all awk since i won’t really know anyone but you” you reassured her. “okay well, just text me if you need anything, and if you want me to stop by for food on the way back just let me know ‘kay!! be safe please and lock the doors when i leave” she said as she gave you a tight hug.

“okay! bye! have fun!! but not too much fun if you catch my drift” you teased as you stood behind the door, “oh hush” utahime laughed as she walked away and met up with her boyfriend down the stairs. you closed the door (forgetting to lock the door because you swore that you heard the click but it was just in your imagination) and walked back to your room to start your michael myers movie marathon which got you to the situation you were in now.

little did you know that this rumored “ghostface” was actually plotting on you next, as he had seen you around campus and thought that you were the most beautiful thing to walk this earth but he didn’t know how he was going to approach you, so he decided to do it the only way he knew how. and lucky for him the door you thought was locked was calling for him, inviting him inside. you were too focused in on your movies, that you didn’t hear the sounds of him coming in and let alone hear him standing outside your bedroom door.

you were about to pop another brownie into your mouth when this mr. ghostface decided to come up behind you and place his hand over your mouth to muffle your shocked screams. you wanted to turn your head to see who it was but this mysterious masked man had a tight grip on you that it was almost impossible for you to turn around and catch a peek. “what’s the matter y/n, you look like you seen a ghost” coyly said from the man behind the mask

wait a sec… why does his voice seem so familiar.. and how does he know my name..?

“if you keep quiet and won’t tell anyone you seen me tonight, i won’t cut your pretty head off and keep it for myself, yeah?” you muffled a “mhm” and he delicately (which is ironic for a psycho killer) removed his hand from your mouth. “so… you got a boyfriend?” he inquired, you shook your head no, in fear of what he’ll do if you speak. “good.. because you don’t know how much i been thinking about this moment y/n. it’s been hard seeing you walk around campus knowing your not mine.” he whispered in your ear as one hand slips down to the waistband of your ghost covered boyshorts and the other down to your right breast in your cropped black tank top.

“someone’s nice and wet for someone who should be scared of the fact that the psycho killer is in their bedroom right now huh” he mocked you in your ear as he plunged two fingers inside of you and you let out a whimper. “cum for me baby and maybe ill let you see who i am”. he was scissoring in and out of you so good that you just couldn’t help but chase your release as you rode his fingers.

what am i thinking?? i just came on a stranger’s fingers?? let alone THE ghost face killer’s fingers??

“eager to know who i am, hmm?” he said as he released his fingers from inside you and up under his mask to get a taste of you. “greedy girl… i’m sorry.. but im not done with you just yet, i wanna hear you scream” as he flips you over and lays you on your back, he pulls your shorts down to reveal that (scary!!!) you aren’t wearing any panties? you can feel the flush of embarrassment rising in your face but all you hear from him is low groan and seeing him lift the mask up (just a teeny bit, exposing everything under the tip of his nose)

“wow your pussy is just as pretty as you, i need to taste more of it too” he starts kitten licking at your clit to get a taste then like the sicko he is, something ignites in him that make him start devouring you. you can’t help the whimpers that come out of you as he starts eating you like a man who hasn’t had a meal in 5 months. he then brings the same 2 fingers that were in you previously back into you as he starts sucking on your clit. you feel your second orgasm of the night building up, “gonna cum baby? good job, you’re doing amazing , i got one more thing for you then you can see who i am” you see a little smirk peek out from under his mask; you can’t help but wonder why does this dude look and seem so familiar? you had a feeling it was that cute, laidback guy from your algebra course, ino takuma. but you could also be wrong and its also wrong that you were about to cum on this strangers fingers + mouth for the second time thinking about another guy like a whore.

“good girl, but i’m going to need you scream on this cock, m’kay?” he pulls down the black sweatpants that he had on revealing the hard on he had hidden in his boxers and his rock hard abs showing from underneath his sweatshirt. fuck, you didn’t know who was more sicker in the head, this stranger that just broke in and is now about to fuck you or the fact you are drooling over his long, skinny, and hard cock staring back at you. either way, you just wanted him to relieve the need you had built up. with his mask still a little lifted, he started giving light pecks on your neck and on your chest as he was rolling his hips into you, leaving your arousal smearing all over the front of his boxers.

“f-fuck me… please” you mumbled under your breath.

“what was that doll? you said you want me to…” he paused as he let his length spring out as he freed it from his boxers, “to fuck you?” he pumped it a few times as he watched you practically beg for him with your cute, big, pleading eyes, “please” you whimpered as you look up at him. and he was wasting nooooo time because like i said before, he was waaaitinggg for this moment ever since he’s laid eyes on you. he won’t admit it but the amount of times he’s fisted himself to you, is a shameful amount but even he can’t believe it himself right now in this moment that his dream was about to come true.

he let out a low growl as he bottoms out inside of you, feeling you clench and gasp around him as you struggle to take him whole, he was fighting the urge not to finish already because goodness gracious did you feel ten times way better than his hand. “you’re such a good girl, you know that right… taking it so good, letting a psycho killer fuck you like the whore you are” he then remembered that he had his prop knife with him, not the real one but its close to it, because he didn’t want to hurt his beautiful girl, and pulled it out to hold it gently against your neck while still pounding you into your pink mattress. “just think baby, how fun this is going to be when i fuck your guts out, yeah?” deep down you knew you had some kinks, but whoever this stranger is, he just unleashed a kink you never knew you had because you couldn’t help the sounds that rolled out of your mouth as he kept hitting that sweet spot in you while holding his signature weapon to your throat.

and its like somehow he knew what you were about to ask because he took off his mask and you were shocked to see that this stranger who was deep inside of you, messy brown hair down, sweat running down his jawline, and breathless ,was indeed who you had a feeling about before. the man you caught yourself drooling over in algebra class many times was the ghostface slasher that was pounding into you at this very moment. you felt your orgasm coming, and coming hard all over his length and at the same time you can feel his coming too. “g’nna cum all over this cock aren’t you pretty girl? go ‘head, it’s all yours ma. you’re going to make me cum all inside of you too” he moaned in your ear as he shot long and warm ropes of his seed into you as he collapsed on top of your warm, fucked out body.

you couldn’t help but play with his hair a little bit as you mumbled “ino… is that you..” he was shocked that you even knew his name but he gave you a kiss to your cheek to confirm that yes, it was him. “did i scare ya?” he giggled. “let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”

now… if utahime comes home to see you like this when she checks in on you, what the heck were you going to tell her when she sees you cuddled up with this psycho killer…

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

SORRY GUYS FOR THE RUSHED ENDING don’t hate me pls 😔

[forthelostones]

☠︎ female reader x ghostface!abby ☠︎ (part two!)

synopsis: abby finds you trying on your halloween costume and wants a private show.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); perv!abby, sub!reader x dom!abby, teasing, kn!fe play, fingering, grinding/scissoring, guided masturbation, strap receiving/sucking, mirror play, squ!rting, face sitting, and spanking.

an: catch any movie references let me know! (stu is my fav ghostface btw) thanks again guys for the likes!

wc: 1.1k

PART ONE

She roughly squeezed your jaw bringing you up to her level. She took both your wrists and put them behind your back, holding them in place. You felt the cracking of your wrists under the pressure of her grip. She pushed you onto the dirty bed, pressing your face into the mattress, your heart beats quicker at the crushing weight of her knee in your back. She takes her free hand and pushes your legs apart forcefully. Her hand raises to slap your ass so hard it reverberates throughout your room. You scream at the fire that's now burning under your skin, which she doesn’t like, so her knee goes deeper into your back. 

“I thought you wanted this.” She spat. 

“I do, I do.” You moan. 

She freed your wrists to wrap her hands in your scalp, pulling your neck back to look towards the ceiling. 

“Then take it.” She grunted and tossing you back down. 

Abby reaches for her knife that's right by your face. You feel the grip of the knife tickling your wet cunt. You gasped at her boldness, in disbelief as it began to enter you. The girth hugged the entrance of your hole ever so slightly that tears formed in your eyes. 

“Abby,” you cried. 

Abby tightened her strap and without warning slid directly into your pussy. Your hands gripped the sheets so ferociously from the sweet pain. The bed dipped as she placed her boot up on the mattress, reaching deeper than your g-spot. Surprisingly, she moved deep and slowly, spreading your ass to see your pink opening grip her length. Naturally, her thumb traveled to massage your anus which made you gasp, as she circled the taut hole. You didn’t know it could feel so good to be played with this way. Her slow movements made you mad, you started disrupting the rhythm, pushing against the motions she set. 

You arched your back and slammed your ass onto her hips, feeling the tip tickle your cervix, it hurt but you couldn’t help but rock the entire bed. You spread your legs farther apart as you became sexually drunk, Abby reaches under your hips to slap your swollen clit, encouraging you to come. 

“Look at you, I’m not even doing anything — fuck y/n.” 

Abby wraps her hands behind her head, watching you perform for her, she focuses on the tension of the strap creating friction in all the right places. Her moans delight you as you start to grind harder.

“Abby…” You moan.

She grips your hair and starts pounding you relentlessly. The sounds of your wet pussy and the waves of your ass overtake both of your moans. You can’t help but scream. Unprompted she pulls out of you and rolls you onto your back, she removes her mask, letting her long hair fall into her face. She laughed at the sight of your burnt cheeks and soaked eyes. Her hand reaches down to slap your cunt with great force, making it burn instantly. Her eyes were low as your tits sparkle like diamonds in her pupils. 

You rub your hands up and down her muscles, which makes her hum, your touch is undeniably intoxicating to her. Her eyes closed in pure ecstasy as you wrapped your hands around her back pulling her in for a kiss. She let you take the lead, biting her lower lip until blood pooled into your mouth. You swiped it away with your tongue. “Let me make you feel good Abby. Please.” 

You reach up to remove her strap and guide her hips over your mouth. Her pussy lips met with yours and fit perfectly like a puzzle piece. Even though you felt like you were in control, you weren’t at all. 

“Put your tongue inside y/n.” 

She lifts up ever so slightly to watch the length of your tongue enter her relaxed hole. As you do she grips the headboard in pleasure and sits, wanting you to get a better taste of her insides. She was so warm and all you could do was slurp her pussy up. Your tongue found her clit and her abs flexed from stifling her moan. You wrapped your arms around her thick thighs and pulled her down to feel the whole weight onto your face. You could barely breathe, which she knew, but you didn’t care. You moaned at every lick of her, she tasted so good and you couldn’t believe it. 

“Fuckmefuckmefuckme.” She kept saying. 

Her arms raised to her neck and she began choking herself. Her eyes bulged out of her head and her cheeks flushed. She lifted her hips and you spread her folds open to expose her sensitive bulb. Her body tensed at the pressure from your tongue, oozing with desire. She brings her hands to your forehead to pull you away, but you can’t bring yourself away from her taste. 

“Ohm—“ She came in your mouth aggressively, leaking her satisfaction.  

She slowly lifted herself after seeing the opaque mess she made on your face. Her cum covered your upper lip and chin. She smiled as she saw the painting she left. She didn’t hesitate to drag her tongue around your mouth tasting herself. 

She tussles you around with her forearm, putting you on top, and you smile at her swift strength. She spread her legs open and demanded you to do the same. 

“Let me feel you, Y/N.” 

You finger your pussy and spread your wetness against hers. You lay your cunt onto hers, feeling her heat from your previous engagement, and tossed your head back at her ridges. Her hands wrapped around your hips as she pushed upwards to feel your clit against hers. Your hips rock back and forth against the padding of her pussy deliciously. You lean over to dangle your nipples in her face, lifting them every time she leans upwards to suck. She got tired of your teasing and caught your nipple in between her teeth. Her lips suckled your breast with her eyes closed.

Her hands traveled to your ass, pushing you closer to her hipbones. She couldn’t believe how incredibly good you felt. She unconsciously slapped your ass as she came closer and closer to climax. 

“Abby,” you moan. “I—“ 

“Cum on me. Please cum on me.” 

Fuck, you thought. Her voice actually was desperate, she liked that you were using her to get off. 

Your two clits flicked one another with indescribable pressure. You feel your belly tighten and you relax your muscles to come over the edge. You lift up to come on her, squirting small drops over her stomach. A smile formed on her face as she noticed your cum on her abs. To finish you hang your dripping cunt over her mouth, where her tongue touched her chin, as she sweetly gulped up your cum. 

[ominouspuff]

I love rebel fox's ridiculously big sleeves

So glad you do — I dearly love them too. So many opportunities for flourishing and swishing from a man you would expect to do exactly neither and never

Also. You have given me the opportunity to EXPOUND and I’m taking it

The sleeve is not only aesthetic, but so EXTRA

CW mutilation: Fox’s right hand index-finger: “Ahsoka’s Gift” - In the arc where Fives (appears) to get shot by Fox, enraged by this and by her treatment by the Coruscant guard during her trial arc, Ahsoka takes revenge on the offending digit that shot the gun. With her teeth, btw — it gets a bit wild. Side-note: It factors in for the other clones that Fox is not right-handed, but that’s the hand he uses to shoot Fives. Then again, most clones are trained/raised/adjusted to be ambidextrous, so — it’s just odd all around, from the outside.

GAR armor: In keeping with the AU title and inspiration (Repurposing GAR armor towards the end of pulverizing wrinkly Sith — A guide by CC-1010, ecstatically-ex-marshal commander of Coruscant), Fox has kept his GAR shoulder-guards, a cutout of his chestplate, and knee-guards (plus one shin-guard), though the paint on them has been adjusted or worn.

Oversized sleeve: Beneath the batwing sleeve and dramatic flair, Fox is hiding whatever the rebellion uses instead of the Mandalorian Whistling Birds, in addition to an elbow-mini-blaster that fires a max of four shots, and extra ammo. (Also the sleeve is removable — think detachable bridal train)

CW self-destruction: On the reverse side of his chest-plate piece, Fox has an explosive device with multiple ways to rig it to explode. While it is detachable and likely could be used to explode OTHER things, the primary intent is a last resort gesture of defiance should he run out of other options.

Fox also has a replaced tooth (which he makes use of, but no spoilers here) and a metal plate protecting the surgery point for when his chip was removed. Since Fox is Fox, he prioritized speed over care at the time, so it is permanent vulnerability due to how his skull was treated and recovered afterward.

Do you see the knifes on his thigh they are small but they are important

[ahhhwomen]

Copycat

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Dark!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

A/N: Well here it is! The new and (hopefully) improved version of Copycat! The OG will not be removed btw, so don't worry if these changes aren't to your liking. Tbh I gave up editing this thing halfway, but I definitely think I improved it.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

Warnings: Ghostface, implied murder, knife play, humiliation, degradation, smut, so much smut, Mistress kink, Halloween, dub-con, Dom!Reader, Sub!Wanda, Wanda is a total bottom in this entire thing Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Halloween is around the corner, all you want is a calm night home alone… though it seems the universe can never give you a break. Or; Your phone rings with a mysterious number on the night of Halloween. What’s your favorite scary movie?

Word Count: 7.2k

You have always taken a liking to Halloween, but even you have to admit this year was turning out to be too much. Between the excessive amount of Halloween activities, decorations, and the new wanna-be Ghostface, it was starting to get to you.

Since the start of October, bodies have been turning up left and right, all with the same knife lacerations. All from the iconic Ghostface's choice of weapon.

Or a copy of it, anyway.

You snicker to yourself as you scroll past the multitude of outlandish articles trying to pinpoint why the town killer suddenly changed their routine after five years of dedicated Halloween night slaughters.

The screen is cold as your thumb glides against it, trying to escape the new narrative that the OG has gone off the rails, more so than the town of less than two thousand people can wrap their heads around.

If you thought like them, you would also be confused and terrified.

Yet-

You don’t have to be a genius to know it's a mere copycat.

For starters, a true killer would never change the storytelling of their kill within such a slim window, and even if they did, their true dedication would never change to such a drastic contrast as the recent kills showcased.

Whereas the real Ghostface would play with their victim and start off by only slicing nonthreatening veins in a close to surgical precision, this new imitator would finish them off by mere coincidence, there was no way for them to keep control over their victim´s lifespan with the rouge slashes that the news spoke of.

Whomever this copycat was, they were sloppy and attention-seeking.

The real Ghostface has been killing for over five years at this point, and still, they remain unknown.

This copycat will probably be busted before Halloween even takes place.

However, you would be lying if you said it didn’t concern you a bit; at least with the real Ghostface you knew when to expect havoc and you could take precautions to keep the ones you love safe.

A copycat is not as easy.

With keys in the form of pepper spray, you keep caution locked inside your heart, as you continue your trudge toward Wanda´s house.

The plastic canister rattles with every step, weighing down your right pocket as it slams against you. The frequency of each click changes depending on the asphalt, and as you step foot on the wooden porch it settles with one final clack against your midthigh.

With Halloween just around the corner, you have come to reiterate the tradition between yourself and the redhead. That tradition being to watch all your favorite horror movies the night before Halloween.

It started because you would both be busy, trick-or-treating and partying the night of and it would be a waste not to celebrate such a strange day with your favorite person.

Or, she would be busy trick-or-treating and partying, while you stayed at home worrying about her with your doors double locked and the porch lights off. You like Halloween, you just prefer to stay home and be comfortable, rather than to fit into a tight outfit and worry if too much or too little of your ass is showing. 

You ring the doorbell on Wanda's ridiculously decorated door and wait while the creepy plastic skeleton stares you down from where there would usually be a wreath.

You don’t have to wait long, and soon you can hear subtle footsteps close in on where your feet are planted to stained wood.

It's Mrs. Maximoff that opens. Her tone is gentle as she acknowledges you, “Hey Sweetie, Wanda is just in her room, go right ahead.”

She lets you in with a warm, welcoming smile and a pat on your shoulder. Her hand settles something within you that you can’t explain, and you smile back. You thank her and climb up the stairs of their expensive house.

You can’t help but feel more at home here than at your actual home as your fingers run along the intricate design in the stairs railing.

You like Mrs. Maximoff.

Ever since you were little you have been best friends with Wanda. When Wanda´s mother and father realized you were often alone as a child due to an absent father and an avoidant mother, they took you in and quickly became your pseudo-family.

You will always look up to Mrs. and Mr. Maximoff for their help and welcoming presence, but it was different with Wanda.

Her parents treated you as their daughter and you felt immensely grateful and happy to be a part of it, but Wanda has never been like a sister to you. Even when you were kids, she was always so much more to you, though as much as it breaks your heart, you can never tell her that.

You shake your thoughts off as you enter Wanda's bedroom to find her changing.

Your eyes kiss the back of your skull with how hard they roll from her antics. “I know you could hear me walking up and yet you still chose the last second possible to put your clothes on.”

The light from outside her ginormous window encapsulates her body perfectly as your eyes dance over the expanse of her stomach while you chuckle to yourself.

Wanda snickers as she pulls the hem of her t-shirt down, not all the way, she leaves a couple of inches ridding up her sides, just enough to tease you.

A sultry voice carries over the room and blesses your ears, “Well, I gotta give my little pervert a show, don’t I?” Wanda smiles with mirth and you return it.

This girl, you think to yourself.

Playing it cool you answer the way you usually do. “Pretty sure you are the pervert in this equation.” You say with a shrug.

It's now Wanda's turn to roll her eyes as she lays down, with a pat on the bed she signals for you to do the same.

“Potato potahto,” her light laugh floats around the room as you settle yourself beside her, you can’t help but lift your lips into a gentle smile as the redhead laughs to herself at her stupidity.

You missed her, you hung out just the other day, but you miss her on a deeper level.

It has been like this for a while, so you push it down as you stare up at the ceiling.

An array of pictures, posters, and drawings of the infamous Ghostface stare right back at you. One shift of your view and the very same can be said for every other surface within her room. From the ceiling to her desk to her bedside drawer, it’s all covered with different illustrations of the cold-blooded murderer.

Ever since that Halloween five years ago, Wanda has had a deep obsession with the Ghostface killer. An unhealthy obsession, you think to yourself as your eyes sone in to see a new replica of the Ghostface mask on Wanda's desk.

With a sigh, you look over at Wanda with disapproval at the new addition.

Wanda pretends not to see you.

You know to tread carefully around this subject, but you can’t help yourself and you lean up on your elbows and voice your disdain for her “hobby”.

“Wands, we talked about this.”

She pushes herself up on her elbows and slaps your arm gently. “It's not that bad,” she gives you her best puppy dog eyes, but you don’t budge.

“It's wrong that’s what it is, you can't simp over a real killer Wanda. It's not right” You can see irritation build in her delicate features as she thinks your words over.

“You are just jealous I am giving someone else attention.�� She huffs. You know she doesn't mean it like that, but it stings when it’s put so bluntly. There is a hint of truth in what she says, but you ignore it.

“I am not jealous; you are just sick.” You say it in a lighthearted manner, but you can tell Wanda does not appreciate the call out.

“No, what is sick is what that dickhead would have done had Ghostface not killed him that night.” You have to agree with her on that part. So, you nod, but make sure to add a

“Still.”

Sensing that this is not the right time, you change the subject by asking what movie to start with.

“Same as always dumbass,” Wanda giggles as she gets up to retrieve her computer. Already set up with Friday the 13th.

A heavy sigh echoes throughout your empty home as you drag your hands down your face in frustration.

The night has dragged on for far too long. Kids and teenagers alike running up and down the streets for hours on end sure can piss you off.

You have been camping on your couch the entire night, making sure to keep the news on as you scroll through social media.

Wanda said she had some family over, so you don’t have to worry about her this year.

Which is a relief, you aren’t really in the mood for an extra adventure today anyway, it's been forever since you could just stay home the entire Halloween night.

Even so, unease has plagued you ever since the night started.

It's strange, the copycat and the original have not shown their face today. The night is almost over, but only party drama and yelling neighbors have been reported on. The original is one thing, but you were sure the copycat would take advantage of the night. Surely this build-up hasn't been for nothing?

You are almost disappointed.

In the mood for something to do you get around to making dinner, it may be the middle of the night, but like the nocturnal creature you are you don’t care either way. You never had a routine, not until you started hanging out at Wanda’s house, so some habits are hard to lose.

You are just finishing up with the dishes when your phone calls. The newly dried plate clatters as you put it down. You dry your hands with the kitchen towel, the material is rough and scratchy as your hands glide against it, then once your hands are fully dry you make your way over to the couch where your abounded phone lays.

Peering down at the metal thing you tilt your head in confusion.

The caller ID is unfamiliar. 

Usually, you wouldn’t bother picking up, but for some reason today was different. So, with an uncertain sigh, you shrug the chills that prickle your spine off and answer.

“Hello?”

Your brows furrow when silence hangs in the air. Just as you are about to hang up a deep voice answers.

“Hello, is Ms. y/l/n there?” You narrow your eyes as the voice questions you.

You don’t trust it; your mother always insists on people calling her by her first name.

You can't even remember the last time you heard someone call her by her last. It must be a work call then, maybe your mother mixed your numbers up. Something even more peculiar, you are not even sure she knows your number.

You right your posture and lean more heavily on your right foot, shifting your weight. Already suspicious, you make sure to answer vaguely.

Whomever they are, you aren’t interested in talking much more.

“No, I'm sorry. This is her daughter, I can give you her number if you would like?” You can hear a puff of laughter on the other end. Their tone unsettles you.

“Aah, so you must be y/n. I have heard quite a bit about you.” Your grip tightness against the offending object as the person on the other line lies to you. Your mother barely acknowledges your existence, and there is no way she talks about you.

Even family members have been blindsided when they heard your mother had a child. You were seven at the time.

Something is definitely off.

“Who is this?”

Now fully engaged in this mystery of a conversation you turn off the TV and leave the living room, intending to end this conversation swiftly, after getting some questions answered, and going to bed. Its only 1 a.m., but all the noise has been wearing you thin the entire day.

Again, there is a long silence before they answer.

“I'm your mom's friend.” They don’t add anything beyond that. You know they are lying; no one calls your mother by her last name if they are her friends. You are curious as to what they could want, however, so you keep the conversation going.

“Oh, really? What's your name?” You subconsciously cross your left arm over your right while holding the phone tightly to your ear.

“You can call me Mike.”

You blink, stopping in the middle of ascending the staircase.

“Mike?”

“Yes.”

You remove the phone from your ear and look at it briefly before answering.

“Mike is the only name you could think of? Really Wanda?”

You smirk, continuing your travels up the steep staircase and turning left toward your room as silence hangs between the two of you.

“…”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” Wanda avoids your question by asking her own.

You bite your lip; satisfied with yourself. You let the soft plush of your clean sheets engulf you as you lay down. Then, and only then, do you choose to entertain this mood of hers.

“SpongeBob” Wanda will find that reference hilarious, you were nine when she introduced the show to you. You had nightmares about that damn sponge for weeks, there was just something about him.

That’s why it takes you by surprise when the voice seems angered by your response.

“This is not the time for games!”

You agree, you are far too tired for these mind games so if this is how she wants to play this then fine.

“Fine, how about this? Who is your favorite killer?” You put extra flair of dramatics into your voice while you question her. The dramatized voice paired with trivia questions comes naturally to you after watching all types of trivia game night shows with Wanda throughout the years.

“I asked you first.” Childish.

“No, you asked me what my favorite horror movie is, I answered.” You thought it over, “Oh well I answered a show, but you get what I mean. Now I want you to answer my question.”

There was a tense rustling on the other end and stomping footsteps before it got silent, and the answer was a mere whisper. “Ghostface.”

Not very surprising. You smile to yourself as you roll over on your stomach and fiddle with your duvet. You wonder what she is up to.

“It's my turn now,” the deep voice darkened, “Why did Ghostface kill that boy five years ago?”

Your body tenses. You don’t like where this is going, so you play dumb. “How am I supposed to know?”

The voice gets louder. “Answer me!”

You feel yourself tighten a little at her tone, what is she getting at? “Look Wanda I don’t know what you want. I don’t know why Ghostface killed Vision.”

All background noise disappears from the call, you can’t even hear breathing. Then, a strained voice, like cat claws on a chalkboard, speaks up.

“Wrong answer.”

Before you can reply, the phone call ends.

You debate with yourself on whether or not to call Wanda, she usually plays some prank now and then, but this was something else.

You don’t have time to think about it before a knock can be heard on your front door. An unpleasant feeling pools in the bottom of your stomach as you try to ignore it. Plenty of children can’t take a hint and come here looking for candy, you rationalize with yourself.

You are just paranoid.

The knocking doesn't stop, however. You puff your chest before getting up and deciding to put an end to this. When you unlock and tear open the door, intending to give a stern talking to whatever kids were up so late, you are stunned at the lack of anyone.

You slam your door closed and lock it. Whomever they were, they were messing with you. Probably just some bored teens from your high school, or Wanda. Either way, if you didn’t react, they were sure to get bored.

As you head back upstairs the pieces of the puzzle take place.

The voice, Ghostface was known for using a voice box and calling their victims with stupid trivia questions. You knew this well, you just didn’t expect it to happen to you.

You are three steps up the stairs when you hear your door unlock.

You snap your head to the sound. Only three people have the keys to your house: yourself, your mother, and Wanda. You know Wanda likes her fun, but she wouldn’t take it this far.

The handle doesn't move. You wonder if you imagined it all together? No this isn’t right. You scan your surroundings before going back to the door.

Sure enough, both locks were undone.

“Enough!” You hate to admit it, but you were getting nervous.

“Whoever the fuck you are, fuck off!”

You can hear your phone go off in your room, “Damn it,” you curse yourself for never taking it with you as you again lock the door. The cold metal does little to settle you as you triple-check that you indeed have locked the door.

Then, taking a glass from the kitchen, you rigg it up on the front door handle. Some kids don’t know when they have taken it too far, so you have to make sure to be one step ahead.

Like always.

You walk deadly silent as you go to get your phone, now that you have finally caught on, you have no doubt of what game will start once you pick up the phone.

You are being hunted.

Despite the consequences, when you see the lit up screen atop your duvet, you don’t hesitate. You slide your thumb over the screen, picking up the call.

All the while, you keep moving.

“What do you want?”

The voice sounds rough and excited. “Me? I am just trying to get someone's attention.”

Go figure. The one Halloween you just wanted to spend in peace the damn copycat has to target you.

“Right. The infamous copycat is it? So is it like a kink or..?”

You are standing in your kitchen now, if they want to play, you’ll play.

You tighten your hands into fits as you anticipate the comeback.

“Cheeky. No, I am just trying to prove a theory.” This bitch.

You can hear heavy breathing on the other end like they are running… Or have just stopped.

You grab the strongest knife in your drawer. Then you put it back.

It’s a risky move you know, but you also know that no one ever thinks of the back door leading into the woods and it's safer for you to run than fight.

At least for now.

Besides, what’s the fun of ending it this early?

“And what do I have to do with this theory?” You chew your lip in annoyance as you lean your body weight forward. Ready to bounce any second now.

“You don’t, you are just an easy target.” This absolute fucking bitch.

“What theory is it that you are trying to prove? Trying to test Ghostface's ability to kill or something? There can only be one or whatever?” You try to keep calm, but you can hear your own voice echo on their side, you sound pathetic, with your breathing fast and escalating by the second.

“Don’t be jealous, this will be over soon.” They have no idea.

The glass shatters and you run.

You don’t even think about it, you dash straight out the back door and into the thick forest surrounding your home.

It doesn’t take long before you can hear them close behind.

The voice box activates. “There is no point in running!”

Truly an amateur, everyone knows running will be your safest bet when you don’t have a weapon. Fighting should always be the last resort when you are inferior to the killer. It's basic movie logic.

You run until you see it. Your safe haven.

The shed.

The shed creaks open and slams shut as you barricade the door. You have been trying to hold it together all night, but now that you stand there surrounded by your darkest secret and seconds away from revealing it to the psycho copycat, you can't help it.

You are getting excited.

It's been ages since you got to play, and there is no need to run now. They are about to enter your territory; they will be inferior.

You have just finished getting ready when you hear the door kick in. Just as expected the killer stops as soon as they take in their surroundings.

Got you.

The copycat threads carefully, the shed is unexpected. Unfaired territory, filled with… Filled with Ghostface?

The shed is a rundown, abandoned, shit box the copycat has never seen anyone use. Yet here it stands, filled to the brim with every crime and murder Ghostface has ever committed.

As their eyes glide over the various papers and pictures strewn about, they are riddled with confusion. Everything is written in more detail than what they could ever put together themselves. They have read all the pieces of information out there, yet they don’t even know half of the scribbled and planned murders that litter the walls and table.

It only takes a moment for it to set in.

They just walked into the fucking lion's den.

And you will show no mercy.

The copycat freezes as a voice rings through the still air.

“Don’t look so disappointed. You are getting what you want, aren’t you?”

It’s delicious really, the way you stalk your prey as they flail their head around trying to locate you in the dark shed. Your infamous knife is strongly gripped in your right hand, then with a deliberate creak of wood beneath your feet the copycat wooshes their body toward you.

As your eyes connect, they start walking backward, startled by your closeness.

Their knife drops to the ground as you trudge forward. God, there is nothing quite like the sight of them shivering beneath their poorly made mask.

A mask you have most definitely seen before.

They walk straight into your little homemade table and you take the advantage to press your body into theirs. Your masks; almost touching.

“Tell me,” you raise your hands to their covered face. Slowly peeling the mask off as you continue. “What theory was it you wanted to prove? Hm?”

Just as red hair reveals itself a hand takes hold of your wrist to stop you from going any farther. That’s fine by you, you know they didn’t realize when you deactivated the voice box.

Nagging them on you continue, “Don’t leave me hanging, what do you want to know? I might just answer it before I cut your pretty tongue out.” You hold the knife up to their face before slowly dragging it down the mouth of their mask and leaving it just under their jaw.

Wanda's meek voice responds.

“I- I I didn’t mean too- too-“

You mock her “too- too-?” “Spit it out pretty girl.” You dig the knife in, just a little.

Too lost in the situation, Wanda hasn't caught onto her voice filling the room.

“Why do you keep killing for me?” So, the age-old question is finally voiced out loud.

You smile beneath your mask. You consider lying, but it's Wanda.

“Because I can.”

Truth be told, it started when you saw the football jock Vision put his hands on Wanda five years ago at a random Halloween party. After that night it evolved.

It just feels right to kill for the things you love.

You don’t let Wanda query anymore, taking hold of her mask you rip it off, revealing her tear-stained cheeks and scared eyes. You have to resist digging the knife in harder, yet it still digs minuscule more. Just enough for one drop.

A single drop of blood that slides onto your gloved finger.

Your eyes snap toward the red drop as it disappears against your black glove, as the dampness against your finger hits you, you can’t resist anymore.

Wanda lets out a squeak as you push her onto the table. Your knife never leaving her pale skin. Using your weight against her to keep her compliant, you straddle her. Leaning closer to her, you force eye contact by pulling her hair just right.

You want her to look at you. You want her to see you the way she did when you killed that pathetic football jock.

Wanda is not one to disappoint, her blown pupils are a window to exactly what you want.

Her feelings are on clear display; she is scared, yet deeply aroused.

Your gloved hand drags the tip of your knife down her body until you are hovering over her covered breasts. With your left hand, you clutch the fabric of her gown, cutting it open with the knife held in your right. Wanda whines as she squirms to get away from you.

You laugh at her pathetic little sounds as you forcefully grab her by the chin.

You lift your mask, only enough for your mouth to be seen, and you press your lips against Wanda´s quivering ones. She only resists for a moment, and then a delectable moan vibrates against you.

You return it when you push your tongue into her sweet, hot, mouth. You swirl your tongue around while your hands rip open her outfit. You let your hands glide and grope as they please and soon you feel her bra-clad breasts heavy in your hands. You let the knife slice her bra like butter.

You break the kiss to give your full attention to the sinful heaven exposed in front of you. Wanda turns her head away from you as she catches her breath, you let her. The only thought occupying your mind is how you will destroy her so sweetly tonight.

After keeping yourself at bay for so long, there is only so much you can do when she whorishly seeks you out. And in such a rude manner too. She was using you to get to, well you, but she didn’t know that. A punishment needs to be set in place; one you will have no regret enforcing.

You settle your mask back in place as you stand and move away from the poor birdy.

She looks up in confusion and disappointment when you go.

Picking up Wanda’s knife and walking over to an armchair nestled in the corner of your den Wanda struggles to sit up as her chest heaves with each manual breath, uncertain of what you want, as you study her from your corner.

You point her knife towards the open door. “Close it.”

Unsurprisingly, Wanda hesitates before complying. You tsk in disapproval, Wanda moves just a tiny bit faster at the sound. It's flimsy, the way she has to wobble her way over as her shredded clothes gather just before her thighs.

After it's properly closed you instruct Wanda to lock it using the plank you point out. This time she does it in a timelier manner.

After it's done she takes a timid step towards you and you nod in approval.

However, when the redhead tries removing your mask you take ahold of her wrist and bend it until she yelps in pain. The surge of power and arousal that shoots through you almost makes you lose your calm, but you soldier on.

Your gaze remains unfaced as she sniffles in pain. “You don’t get to touch me.” You say as a matter of fact.

“Why not,” tears gleam in the redhead’s eyes as she whines.

“Because only good girls get to touch their Mistress.” Wanda whimpers at your words. Her knees buckle and her nipples harden. You put the knives between the cushions of the rough chair.

You will need both of your hands for this.

As she stands there you can't help but admire her. She looks just the way you imagined she would. Her frame is perfection, even with her clothes hanging off her and tear stains gleaming on her flushed cheeks. You want to eat her up. But first, her punishment.

You act unbothered as you command her.

“Kneel.” Wanda’s eyes widen as her desperation dampens her underwear.

There is a dull thud as Wanda’s knees connect with the water-damaged wood planks. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from singing her praise for such a simple task, but you can’t help it when you automatically pet her hair gently in reward.

You think of all the times you dreamed of holding her like the pet she is. Your palm smoothes her hair down while you mule over how long it's been since you had a good orgasm. When she´s putty beneath you, you grab a fist full of red tresses and roughly pull her closer to your crotch.

Taking the hint Wanda lifts your dark gown and gasps at the lack of underwear. It's cute that she convinced herself you believed the copycat was anyone but her. This punishment has been long in the planning.

You push more intently on her. “Don’t stop now. Be a good whore and mistress may give you a reward.”

You are glad you kept the mask on as you drool looking down at her while she gets to work. She’s so tiny and irrelevant, one calculated squeeze and you can have her begging for her life while she eats you out. The power imbalance is almost enough to make you cum before Wanda can put her talents to use.

When Wanda's hot mouth makes contact with your folds, sucking and teasing you, you have half the mind to tie her down and force her to watch while you fuck yourself with your fingers. However, you can't resist her when she finally sucks your clit into her keen, wet, fuck-hole.

You wonder if she has done this before as it only takes a minute for your eyes to roll into your skull. Jealousy takes hold of you at the thought.

Pushing the redhead away from yourself, sooner than she can get a word out, you lay her onto her back on the cold floor and straddle her face. Wanda goes to grab your hips, but you force her down. Holding her wrists over her head you instruct her to stay still.

You can’t help but tease her by riding the air just higher than what Wanda's greedy tongue can reach. You drag your body slowly back and forth sensually, making sure to let some breathy moans and groans rile her up.

“I thought I told you to be good.” You tighten the grip around her wrists in warning.

Wanda, who had been slowly trying to lean upward, lowers herself. She is smart enough to act remorseful, you decide to let it go this once. Far more concerned with satisfying your thirst you take your seat right on Wanda’s waiting mouth.

Wanda makes the jealousy easier as she moans loudly into your pussy while pushing her tongue against your hard clit. It's erotic the way Wanda’s hips buck aimlessly while your juices drip down her chin.

The harsh oak makes your knees sting and you can only imagine how Wanda's back must feel. Of course, Wanda is too far gone, she’s moaning and rocking against the air with her eyes closed.

With this small turn of events, your punishment needs an adjustment.

So, you improvise. Originally you were going to make her fuck you until you ran out of cum. However, being on the floor may prove to make that difficult.

The jingle of the whore’s boobs, whilst she tries humping anything she can get between her legs, does give you an idea.

Leaning back you mindlessly search the chair. When your hand connects with the handle of a familiar steel knife you grab on. Keeping it behind your back so as to not let the redhead get a peak. You doubt she can see it even if she wants to, too deep in your cunt for her to see anything. Besides, she has her eyes closed as a bead of sweat runs down her forehead.

She continues lapping up your wetness like a dog, none the wiser as you debate on whether or not to hold the knife against her jugular. Reflecting over it, she has been good, so you keep the knife behind you.

If only to use it if she misbehaves.

Misbehaving seems to be the last thing on her mind however, she is devouring your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth. When she introduces her nose into the mix, bumping it into your clit while you ride her tongue, white-hot pleasure runs through you.

Sounds, like you have never heard yourself make, escape before you even think to stop them. Your toes are close to curling and tension tightens in your lower back. Yet you rearrange yourself away from the redhead's hungry mouth, now is not the time.

After Wanda finishes gasping for air that you hadn’t allowed her, her eyes fly open at the lack of your taste.

You stand over her.

Scrunching her eyebrows together, the redhead whines in confusion, but you ignore her in favor of fixing your outfit. Like the good girl you know she is, Wanda stays in place. All fight evaporated as soon as you touched her. You can’t help but scoff at how easy she is.

She looks like a bitch in heat, panting and twitching as you stand over her with your knife gripped like a phyton.

You tilt your head. The torn rags still holding on by a thread annoy you. “Take your clothes off.”

Wanda's eyes lack any thought as she heeds to your every whim.

She removes the cheap outfit slowly, pushing it off her shoulders and down her waist, over her ass, and past her legs. She removes her ruined bra next, sliding it off each arm and letting it fall into a heap beside her.

You sneer at her disobedience.

“All of it.” You accompany the words with a snap of your fingers.

There is a long silence while the demand sinks into her empty head. Then like lighting, Wanda takes off her soaked underwear.

She trembles as you leisurely walk around her, tapping the knife in a set rhythm against your hand.

You soak in her completely nude and vulnerable frame.

Just how you like her.

Stopping in front of Wanda´s open legs. Her body is begging for you to touch her, she is heaving, drooling, desperate. And you have no plan on soothing it.

Ever since you were younger Wanda has always been a particularly touchy person, she needs human touch to function. Without it, she can't do certain things. Like how she refuses to take a walk unless you hold her hand, and how you can see her struggle to get up and shower if you don’t promise cuddles after.

That’s why when you found her little devious plan three months ago you decided the only punishment fit for a sadist like her would be to remove all sense of touch. Deprive her of the one thing she needs to cum, your touch.

You return to your chair, mask back in place, knife tightly gripped.

“Touch yourself.”

Wanda swallows thickly as she watches you beneath heavy lids before nodding to herself.

You have seen the way, Wanda slowly gathers her wetness and spreads it around her libido while her breath turns shallow, many times. You can’t count how many times you silently sneaked into her bedroom, always mindful of what floorboards would give you away.

You have seen the way she struggles when she gets close. So close, yet so far away. Alone and desperate.

This is different, this time she is doing it for you and only you.

Wanda never breaks eye contact through the black mesh of your mask. It's only when she pinches her clit that her head gets thrown back and a prolonged moan emits from her that she can’t keep her act up. She is close, but if you play your cards right, she won’t be going over.

You dig the knife into the armrest and swirl it back and forth, fiddling like you're bored.

Wanda’s eyes burn holes in your mask as she studies you from where she sits just a few feet away, but you overlook her.

Wanda, very much, does not like this newfound disinterest you have in her. She speeds up her fingers, moving them clockwise and pressing down hard. Every time she tries to get your attention by moaning louder or trying to press her foot into your boot you tune her out and move away.

Just as you thought, when the redhead’s orgasm approaches, she struggles. Her moans of pleasure turn into whines of frustration, and you don’t look at her. You keep your focus on the knife. This is where the real punishment starts, one mistake from you and you know she will have no issue falling over the edge and screaming her pleasure for the entire world to hear.

No, you will make her suffer, if only a little.

After all the running you have had to do tonight you are making sure she will be left breathless and exhausted before an orgasm is in order.

For ten minutes you distract yourself, for ten minutes Wanda balances painfully on the edge of pleasure.

You only take pity on her when she taps the floor twice.

Raising your eyes you see Wanda with fresh tear tracks running down her cheeks while her fingers work overtime trying to move faster than you have ever seen them move before. You have to hold back a moan at the sight.

You stand slowly, dragging every movement out. Wanda stares wide-eyed and hopeful as she cries from the pain and pleasure. You make your way between spread legs and crouth down to her eye level. Lifting her chin with the tip of your knife, she stops her movements.

Good.

You know you have her attention now.

Without uttering a word, you remove your mask with your unoccupied hand.

As soon as your face is free of its confinement and Wanda sees you in all your mad beauty, a moan so deep and sonorous it leaves her dumbfounded, fills the damp air.

While she is distracted by the new sound, she can make, you hold eye contact and leave the knife in place. Without looking, you reach down and pinch her neglected clit so hard she screams.

She comes so hard she sees stars.

Wanda is a heap of moans and whines as your gloved fingers pet her folds and clit gently, bringing her down, it takes multiple minutes before her vision returns.

When she gets back to herself you are lying on top of her and petting her sides. She doesn't even realize she is crying until you carefully wipe her tears away while praising her.

“There you go, baby.”

“It's okay, you did so well.”

“Mistress is very proud of you.”

“Just breathe for me, honey.”

“That’s it honey, good job.” You sooth her while she gathers herself. She came for a full three minutes before she promptly passed out. As worried as you were in the moment, you have to admit you are a little proud of yourself.

That is definitely the hardest you have ever seen her cum.

After a while, you can hear her mumble something.

“What’s that baby?”

Wanda, in a surprising turn of events, locks you against her chest and flips you both. You blink up at her as she giggles from your tense reaction.

“Sorry,” you watch her giggle to herself, and you know for a fact she is not sorry, “I couldn’t help it, you just look so cute when you are surprised.”

You grin with her, but you also grab the knife beside you and lift it to her neck. She quickly stops laughing, but she isn’t scared. Not anymore.

“Behave, don’t forget who´s in charge here.” You fix her with a stern glance.

Wanda deflates a little, but her hands never leave you. She trails her hands up and down your body, groping everything she can. You dig the knife deep enough to where she has to stay still if she wants to keep her vocal cords.

Wanda mewls, “please.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Please what?”

“Please can I touch you, Mistress?”

You smirk, “You are touching me.” The disappointment rolls off Wanda in waves, but she knows what she needs to do.

Not wanting to actually hurt the redhead you had loosened your pressure without realizing it, Wanda uses that to her advantage.

The deviant redhead swiftly moves your hand out of her way to attack your mouth with a round of kisses. She then pushes her tongue in and swirls it teasingly around yours. You moan into her as she grinds her leg against your covered clit.

You let this go on until you need her inside you.

Clutching the fine hairs at the back of her neck you tear her away from yourself. You tighten until she wheezes, then you speak.

“If you ever disobey me like this again I will tie you down with a vibrator and leave you like that for hours. Do you understand me?” The redhead nods as best as she can.

You let go of her neck only to grab her hair again. You stand, dragging her with you. “Sit.” You point at the chair as you let go.

Wanda obediently listens without defiance this time.

“You are lucky,” you tell her as you straddle her thighs.

“If I wasn’t in the mood for an orgasm I would have you over my knee now.” You grind into her lap as you speak. This time when Wanda goes to grab you, you let her.

Wanda controls your hips as you pound yourself into her lap. She is more than eager to comply when you command her to put a finger in.

You ride her until you can't take it anymore and reach down to draw tight circles over your forgotten clit.

You cum so fast it almost gives you whiplash. Wanda moans with you as clear liquid coats her hand.

You both fall into an exhausted pile of post-orgasm bliss as you settle. Wanda cuddles into you and you lean your chin atop her head. She nuzzles into your neck and sighs with satisfaction.

You are half-dosing when a giggle abrupts from the girl in your arms. You look down at her with a confused tilt to your head. Wanda is already grinning up at you.

“Same time next year?” You laugh at your girlfriend of six years and nod while kissing her sweaty forehead.

“Same time next year.”

[dingus11111]

‼️HOTTIE ALERT‼️

BORO SMUT <3

Includes: Sub!Bottom!Male reader, Dom!Top!Boro, Sadist!Boro, Masochist!Reader, CIA!Reader, bondage, sexual torture, nipple play, edging, BLOOD, choking, videotaping, butt plugs, impact play, CBT, subspace, biting, knife play, use of “sir” for Boro, and probably more shit.

DUB-CON/NON-CON

FEM/FEM ALIGNED DNI!!!!

VERY FUCKING LONG FIC BTW!!!

‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

SMACK!

A loud slap echoed the darkly lit, dingy, concrete room.

Your face was red and slightly swollen. You were half naked with your shirt off, but your pants and boxers were still on. You had a blindfold on, and couldn’t see anything.

Your breath hitched as a large hand grasped your cheeks and forced your face to lift up to face the man doing this to you.

“I’ll ask you again… What is your real name, and who are you working with?”

Your mouth wasn’t gagged, so you took this chance to show him that you would never tell him. You gathered as much spit in your mouth as you could manage and spat on his face, hoping you had hit him with it.

Unfortunately, you did hit him.. DIRECTLY in the face. This made him angry. REALLY angry.

He growled in aggravation before stepping back to think about his next move.

After a minute or so, he took off your blindfold. As the blindfold fell to the floor, you looked up at your captor. The well known Boro Polonia had you tied up to a chair and at his mercy.

He quickly grabbed a gag from the table next to him, and put it on you.

“You’re cute for an traitor. Since you didn’t answer my questions, I believe I’ll have to use… harsher… methods.” Boro smirked softly.

You raised a brow, curious as to what he meant. That curiosity was wiped off of your face as he punched your jaw to knock you out. Everything went black and your body went limp.

‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Your eyes flickered open. You felt cold. Too cold. A shiver ran through your body before you really started to take in your surroundings.

Your hands were chained to the ceiling, and you were stripped naked.

You began to feverishly look around and thrash at your confines. A cry for help escaped your lips, but it was muffled due to the gag in your mouth.

After a minute or more of struggling, you heard footsteps. Your eyes darted to the person who had entered the room.

It was Boro.

He approached you agonizingly slow, allowing you to take in the fact that his eyes were on your body.

You began to struggle again, screaming against the gag.

Boro chuckled at your anger and fear. His hand caressed your torso, starting at your sternum and making his way down to your lower abdomen. Your breath hitched as his hand got dangerously close to your flaccid dick.

He looked down and then back up at your face, a smug grin painted on his.

“Now, let’s begin…” He strode over to a table next to where you were confined and grabbed something.

The room was too dimly lit for you to tell what it was. As he leisurely strolled back to his spot before he moved, you noticed multiple objects in his hand. You shook your head in objection and began to wiggle again.

“Shut up!” He yelled as he slapped you across the face hard. A muffled groan fell from your lips. A small amount of what felt like electricity rushed to your penis.

“Good..” Boro continued.

He began to show off the items that were in his hand.

“A whip to pry information out of you… A sounding rod for later, and lastly..” He smiled.

“A knife.” His eyes burned holes into your body, causing the slightest blush to appear on your cheeks.

Your cock was now half hard and Boro liked that. He smirked, enjoying seeing you like this, and even starting to grow hard himself.

After a minute or so of him peering at your body, he stepped back and put two of the three items down on the table. The object remaining in his grasp was none other than the whip.

“I’m going to remove your gag, and you will tell me what you know. If you do not comply, I will hurt you until you do.” Boro announced with a straight face.

He walked up to you and removed your gag. Spit dripped out of your mouth due to being gagged for so long.

You noticed that the whip in his hand was not a normal whip. It was a type that was designed for torture and could even kill you in severe cases. It had metal beads at the end that were followed by some knots as well. You shivered slightly.

“Tell me what you know.” He said coldly.

You glared at him before speaking.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you anything.”

His brow furrowed.

“So be it.” He muttered.

CRACK!

The first lash of the whip ran diagonally across your torso, leaving a deep-ish gash. Blood trickled from the wound, staining the concrete floor below you. You were paralyzed in shock. Nothing could come out of your mouth. Not a single sound. Tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.

WUH-PSHH!

Another lash. Another wound across your torso. The pain was immense, and for some reason.. your cock was fully hard. The pain of the whip and the shame of being hard mixed together causing your mind to spiral. You couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, yet you wanted this to stop. To stop your shame. Your pain. Your pleasure that felt wrong to feel. Tears trickled down your face and your mouth opened.

“Please stop… no more! I- I’ll tell you what you want to know…”

You closed your eyes in guilt. You were betraying the CIA.

Boro paced up to you and looked down and your hard dick.

“Hmm.. It seems that, deep down, you want me to keep going.” He snickered.

You shook your head rapidly, clearly signaling that you didn’t want to be whipped again.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know.. just please no more whipping.” You cried.

Boro smiled at this.

“Go on. Tell me.”

You nodded. ‘I’m sorry everybody.’ You thought.

“My name is M/N L/N.. and I work for the CIA.”

Boro looked extremely pleased as you said this.

“Good boy…” He praised as he brought one of his hands over your whip lashes.

You winced in pain, yet your cock twitched and leaked a bead of precum. He noticed this and chuckled.

“You like the pain, don’t you M/N?” He teased as he brought his finger tips down your dick and lightly touched the tip.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he did so. He grinned and began to stroke you.

“Fuck.. Ngh…” You gasped out.

“I think you deserve a reward for betraying your colleagues.” Boro suggested.

He then stopped stroking your dick and stepped to the left of you. On the wall, there was a lever that caused the chains confining you to suspend you slightly. He pulled the lever and that caused you to fall to the ground. You groaned slightly. He walked over to you and unshackled your hands. He quickly pulled out some handcuffs and cuffed your hands together.

“Good.. Now, time for your reward.” A sweet, but slightly menacing smile appeared on his face.

“Kneel.” Boro ordered.

You obeyed, not wanting to be whipped again. Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. He unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his pants. There was a massive bulge in his boxers. Your breathing got faster as you eyed his clothed cock.

He pulled over a chair that was close to him. He took off his boxers before sitting down. His cock was huge. He was about 8 inches and girthy. He noticed the surprise in your eyes and laughed.

“You know what to do, M/N.”

A smirk was painted on his face as you attempted to crawl to get closer to him. Your hands were cuffed behind your back. You breathed shakily before licking the underside from the base to the tip. You then began to kiss and lick at the tip. A groan escaped Boro’s lips. As you started to bob your head up and down on his length, you brought your hands up to stroke what you couldn’t suck. He didn’t like this and growled. He tapped your cheek a few times and you stopped sucking. Once he had your attention, he spoke.

“Ah ah ah.. No hands.” He nodded in acceptance as you continued to suck him off, this time with no hands.

Eventually, he wanted to feel more of your throat, but you wouldn’t go any further. He tangled a hand into your hair, and gripped it. He pushed down on your head so that you took him all the way to the base. Your nose was shoved into his trimmed pubic hair. You moaned softly. Boro smirked and continued to face fuck you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you gagged here and there. After a few minutes, you learned to relax your throat and breathe through your nose. A loud groan left Boro’s mouth as he had came into your mouth. He didn’t pull his dick out of your throat.

“Swallow all of it. You will take what I give you with appreciation for it.”

You swallowed all of his cum. The salty and bitter taste staying on your tongue, but for some reason, you wanted more.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled his cock out of your mouth. He was still half hard. You looked up at him, waiting for his next move.

He got up and stripped himself of his remaining clothes; that being his shirt. You blushed hard as you saw his defined biceps and toned abs.

“Get up.”

You obeyed. Once you were up, he nudged you over to the table that had numerous…devices… on it. He pushed them away and laid you on it. After he made sure that you were secure on the table, he grabbed a camera he pushed out of the way before. He set it up on a stand behind you so that when your face hung off the table, it would catch your face. And not just that, it would get EVERYTHING.

Boro walked back to his spot beforehand and smiled.

“Hello.” He greeted the camera.

“As you can see, I have one of your agents here.”

As you heard those words, you flushed in embarrassment. He was going to send this video to the CIA. The camera could see your body. Your hard cock. Your blushing face.

“For every minute that you do not rescue him, I will test his limits. I will push past them and ultimately break them.”

As he finished his sentence, you cried out. He had suddenly pushed his dick inside of you without any prep or lube whatsoever. You wanted to cover your mouth and stop the moans spilling from it, but your hands were handcuffed behind your back.

You moaned in both pain and pleasure as he began to thrust in and out.

“I don’t know.. I don’t think you should rescue him. He seems to be enjoying this.” Boro snickered.

His hands held your thighs apart and pushed them back as he fucked you in a standing missionary position.

“Aaahh… fuck.. Boro!~” You couldn’t help but moan his name.

He smirked at this.

“He’s really enjoying this.” He said to the camera.

Suddenly, he pulled out, and flipped you so that you were bent over the table. You looked confused as he did this.

“Wha-“ You were cut off as he thrusted back inside of you harshly.

He pounded into you, and the camera caught all of your faces of ecstasy. Your eyes rolled back as he hit your prostate.

It felt so fucking good for being so fucking wrong.

You started to go into subspace. Only being able to focus on the pleasure. His large dick and the way it felt inside of you. Drool seeped from your open mouth.

SMACK

He spanked you hard. This immediately woke you up from your trance. Your cock twitched from the pain.

“We’re going try something fun, okay?” He chuckled.

You couldn’t see behind you as he picked up a knife that was moved to the side and a sounding rod. He was nice enough to lube up the sounding rod before putting it against your tip. Your eyes widened as you realized what it was.

“W-wait!!” You begged.

He disregarded your please for mercy as he shoved it into your urethra in one go. You screamed in pain, only the slightest bit of pleasure filling the back of your head.

You breathed heavily, thinking it was over as he began to fuck you again. Boy, were you wrong…

Remember the knife he picked up? Well, he’s gonna use it.

As he continued to plow into your tight ass, he brought the knife up to your lower back.

“Want me to make you mine, baby?” He asked quietly so that the camera wouldn’t pick up the noise.

You nodded, thinking he would cum inside of your or something among the lines.

He grinned maliciously as he slowly began to carve the name “Boro,” into your lower back.

“FUCK!” You screamed in agony.

Tears of pure pain streamed down your face. It hurt so fucking bad, but something about it had you feeling just a smidge closer to your orgasm.

You breathed heavily with occasional whimpers and moans echoing from your exhausted body.

Boro felt himself getting close as well. The knot in your stomach grew as you realized that you had a sounding rod in your dick. You took it upon yourself to beg.

“Please, sir.. Please let me cum!” You begged him.

“You may cum once I have finished.” He responded.

A small gasp left his lips, signaling his upcoming orgasm.

After a few more thrusts, he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and came.

“Fuck..” He groaned as he continued to fuck you through his orgasm.

You felt his hand creep towards your dick and start to teasingly tug on the sounding rod. He repeatedly pulled it halfway out and then quickly pushed it back in causing your hole to clench around his cock tightly. Eventually, he pulled it out and you came hard. Cum spurted out of your twitching dick as your back arched. You screamed out his name in doing so. A pleased smile spread across his face.

You breathed heavily once your orgasm was over.

“You think we’re done?” He asked, rasing a brow.

You gasped as he pulled out and quickly shoved a butt plug inside of you to keep his cum from spilling out. He then lifted you up onto the table so that you faced the camera. His hands then snaked around your torso towards their target.

Your nipples.

He began to pinch, tug, flick, and roll them.

It felt so odd, but so good at the same time. Your cock started to harden again. You wished you could hide your face from the camera.

Boro saw this pinched your nipples particularly hard and choked you, causing you to moan loudly.

He addressed the camera.

“Is this the type of employees you hire for the CIA? Sluts who can’t get enough of what they are given?”

‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

FINALLY!! THAT WAS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR A MONTH AND A HALF.

ANYWAYS, THANK YOU FOR READING!! HAVE A GREAT DAY AND DON’T HESITATE TO REQUEST THINGS!!

-Charlie <3

[divine-misfortune]

perhaps 45 with omega/alpha, if that sounds interesting?

A kiss out of anger from this prompt list.

Btw toxic old man yaoi art by @aweisz if you even care (thank you so much)

Bracing himself only did so much. It didn’t stop him from choking on the wave of dry heat that assaulted him when he opened the door. Omega dutifully swallowed a mouthful of scalding cinder and gripped the doorknob a little tighter, eyes tracking the scorched path Alpha had paced along the length of his room. It would take several hours to polish his anger from the floorboards but he knew no amount of waxing and shining would remove the traces of ash from the wood. Just another scar. 

Omega stepped over the threshold. Willingly entered the cage with the spitting, raging demon and closed the door behind him.

Alpha’s eyes were fixed on the floor, hunched over himself. His arms were folded behind his back, clasping his wrist in one hand while the other repeatedly curled in and out of a fist. Omega ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, finding himself subconsciously mimicking his posture with a well trained rigidity. Steel spined, shoulders squared, hands folded neatly. There was a practiced sense of pride that he couldn’t give up, even now, even when he should be curling in on himself in shame. 

“Understand?” He interrupted, sparks sputtering from between his teeth. Restrained anger that Omega didn’t deserve the kindness of. “Where the fuck do you get off taking matters into your own hands like this? You have no right to speak on my behalf, to call me and my capability into question, no fucking right Meg!” 

“Alpha,” Omega began without knowing where he was going. If there was even a point to opening his mouth he had yet to find it. He debated a step forward but his body refused to budge and carry him closer to the fire ghoul.  “You have to understand-”

“I’m not questioning your capability,” he tried to start again, nails digging into his palm behind his back as he tried to gather himself. Beyond scattered, he found himself grasping blindly for the right wording - searching for the sincerity Alpha deserved but his shallow inhale left too much of a pregnant pause that Alpha took as a chance to continue spitting. 

“Oh but you did, you did the second you breathed a word of retirement to clergy. They’re all looking at me differently, like I’m useless. You seem to think I can’t do my fucking job, so what is it?” The question comes out serrated, sharp and ripping through him. “What’s this really about?” 

Alpha finally looked at him. Crimson eyes gone dull, the raging fire he’d fallen in love with had burned down to low embers and the guilt jabs him in the gut. 

Smoke billowed from the corners of his snarl and Omega found himself grateful for the awful heat filling the room, like the judgmental fires of hell were finally catching up to him. He hoped he burned, at the hands of Alpha or unholy retribution. Perhaps it was a deserved punishment in the end, his unwelcomed overstepping finally leading him to the cliff's edge. 

“I’m worried about you.”

Closer now, Omega noticed the twitch of discomfort in Alpha’s face as he stepped forward again. The way his body moved was jerky for a passing second like he was flinching from his own weight on his right leg. Another stab, higher, a knife between his ribs. Closer now, Alpha had never felt further away from him. Despite being in arms reach, there were miles between them. 

“Worried about me? You're worried about me?”

“You can't expect me to just sit and watch you-” 

“Be honest, this is about Terzo isn't it?”

“Alpha.” 

“No, no. It makes sense, it makes a lot of fucking sense when you think about it.” He's close, close enough Omega can feel the heat of his shaky breathing. “You don't think I'm good enough to stand by him anymore, do you? Do I tarnish your humans shiny appearance? Shouldn't surprise me that his image matters more to you-” 

“For the love of everything unholy. Alpha, no. Would you just listen to me?” 

“Oh yes, yes, of course I should listen. Omega knows best.” He threw his hands up with a laugh of disbelief. Omega couldn't stop his face from screwing up in irritation. “I don't know why I’m wasting my breath here, it’s clear you don’t care about me or a word I say.” 

The accusation knocked the wind from his sails, impeccable posture beginning to sag. First in the shoulders and then his arms fell back to his sides, hands curling into fists to hide the shake to them. Alpha scoffed as the quintessence ghoul opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t seem to find the words. Dismissive. He looked tired, years of being beaten into submission and pushing well past his limits taking their toll. Ice crept into his veins, a chilled numbness spreading from the tips of his fingers to his core - he couldn’t place if it was guilt or his own particular brand of rage. 

Alpha began to stalk past him, floorboards squeaking shrilly under his step like nails on a chalkboard. He grit his teeth, jaw creaking in kind as he turned and grabbed the other ghoul by the arm. There came the beginnings of a growl but Omega knew it was all bark, that there would never have been a real bite behind it, so he pushed. He pushed Alpha the few steps backwards till his back hit the door too hard, and he’d apologize later, but he chased the nerve he’d managed to scrounge up.

His skin was scalding as Omega grabbed his face roughly, surging forward to mold his mouth to Alpha’s before he could bite off another sharp word. The fire ghoul made a choked off sound of surprise, head thumping against the wood. His lips were rough, overly worried raw by well filed fangs, and Omega ached somewhere in his ribs at the familiarity. Months, it had been months since he'd felt Alpha against him and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Missed him. 

Tobacco and communion wine. Omega was sure Alpha had stolen it from the chapel and downed the bottle in an attempt to quell his anger but it hardly seemed to do the trick given where they found themselves. 

He braced a hand against Omega’s broad chest, not exactly pushing him away, it felt like another vye for physical contact. A quiet admission of how much Alpha missed this all the same. One kiss hardly felt like enough to convey himself, but as he flicked his tongue over the seam of his lips and Alpha reluctantly let him in, it felt like a start. The best he could do so suddenly. 

Slipping into his mouth, Alpha groaned lowly and leaned fully against the closed door, curling his fingers into the front of the other ghoul’s uniform to drag him all that much closer. Flames seemingly extinguished, the heat beneath his palms began to ebb back to a comfortable warmth and Omega let up a bit, opting to cradle his face instead of grab. Offer him a touch of tenderness, it was the least he could do. 

That clever forked tongue forced past his teeth and sought to lick the soured ash from his mouth. 

It was a moment he wished they could stay suspended in forever, reminiscent of their younger days where every spare moment they could steal together was passion fueled and driven by sparks. Alpha’s warm breath tickled against his cheek with every pleasured sigh, neither of them managing to quiet a single grateful sound. 

He started to pull back, managing an inch before changing his mind. Pressing forward for another far more chaste kiss, hating the idea of it ever truly ending. 

“Alpha…” The quintessence ghoul started, stroking a thumb over the cut of his cheek, eyes flicking from his spit shined lips to his almost glassy eyes. They refocused a bit more with every sluggish blink. “Alpha, love, I’ve never doubted you or your ability to perform for a minute, but I worry about how hard you push yourself.” 

He found himself frowning despite the previous giddy flutter of his heart. 

“You might be immortal, but your vessel is not.” Omega smoothed his hands down Alpha’s front, pausing over his chest to just feel his pulse and the labored breaths he took. “You’re not a young ghoul anymore, and I know you don’t want to admit it…So I admitted it for you. I know it wasn’t my place but I couldn’t sit and watch you work yourself to the bone.” 

“Megs,” Alpha sighed, brow furrowing. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” 

“Because I know you, and I know you’d never go quietly.” He chuckled though there was no real humor there, tinged by something sad. “We only have so much time left on the surface, and the idea of not spending the rest of it with you at my side is agonizing. I just wanted you to come back to me and not worry about you leaving again, always coming back in worse shape than you left in…You’re making me go gray from all the worrying I have to do.” 

It was Alpha’s turn to laugh. A sort of snort, actually amused unlike his previous attempt. Omega tipped his forehead against his, wanting to melt into him and his comforting warmth. 

“I’m sorry, my light. I would never do something like this to slight you, you know that, right?”

“...Yeah, yeah I do.” 

[scarletlizzard]

OH MY GOSH, AHHHHH!!! 500 FOLLOWERS!!! IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!

I love the list you posted btw. I picked two because I thought they went well together ☺️

72 and 45:

Wanda: "Oh my god, are you okay?"

R: "Yeah I'm fine, I've been stabbed before."

Wanda: "I'm going to fucking kill them."

72 & 45

104 Dilogue Prompts

Pairing: wanda x reader (don't think pronouns are mentioned)

Tags: little violence, reader gets stabbed, mentions of a gun, fluff honestly

A/n: Thank you so much!! 🥹 and thank you for requesting! I love hearing from yall 💞

~~~

The mission was going great.

They didn't always, and the fact that Steve paired you up with Wanda was making it all the better. Your goal, get to the lower levels where the servers are located to retrieve the data needed. Wandas goal, get you there safely. You were an asset to the team for sure, with your smarts and spy skills, but sometimes the occasion called for a little magical touch. You couldn't have been more grateful this was an occasion.

The two of you were currently waiting on one of the upper levels of the building, waiting on Steve or Natashas signal to continue down.

You glimpse at Wanda again as she leans against the wall across from you. Her red locks flow past her shoulders, red suit hugging her curves as she twists a ring on her finger.

"I'm glad Steve paired us up, by the way," you say quietly with a smile on your face. Wanda doesn't miss the glint in your eye as she looks up to meet your gaze.

"Well, someone had to babysit, right?" She says playfully, a smirk on her lips. Your lips part as you gasp and stand straight from your previous leaning position.

"I-what-babysit?" The words spill out all together as you look at her in offense. "I'll have you know I am a decorated international spy. I may not be a-a black widow or have magic fingers, but I assure you I don't need a babysitter!" You huff as you step up to her, ego calming as she stands straight, looking down at you.

"Magic fingers?" Wanda chuckles, and your cheeks burn.

"You know what I meant," you mumble and cross your arms. She steps closer, now invading your personal space.

"Are you talking about my powers or the magic that had you in my bed screa-"

You put your hand over her mouth, stopping her from finishing her sentence. She lifts her hands in defense as you glare at her with a red face.

Before either of you can say another word, Natashas voice call over the comms.

"Head down, Wanda, be ready. They're waiting for you guys," she warns. The two of you look at each other with a nod, both of you attempting to be serious. You make your way lower, coming across a set of double doors.

"Ready?" Wanda asks, her fingers twitching as she forms red orbs of energy in her hands. You nod, pulling out your pistol in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Wanda sends a blast through the doors, opening them up and revealing a group of the enemies that had, in fact, been waiting. She's quick to send another few blasts, scattering them about the large room as the two of you begin to fight.

"Babysitter..." You mumble to yourself, shaking your head as you take down an agent. You look over at Wanda to see she's taken out half the group. Okay, so maybe it wasn't bad she was here. You, not so easily, fight with another and lose your pistol in the process. But as you land another punch, he falls to the ground.

"See that?" You breathe out as you look to Wanda, who gracefully fought the last three at the same time. "I can take care of myself!" You say with a huff and lean down to grab the fallen gun.

As you do, you feel yourself being grabbed from behind. An excruciatingly sharp pain resonates from the side of your abdomen and you let out a, "Fuck!" When the agent removes the blade they stuck in you. You raise your hand across your body, pointing the gun behind you.

The bullet only grazes them, and they run through the set of double doors as soon as Wanda turned her head in your direction.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks with worried eyes. A shaky hand rests on your face as she watches blood spill through your shirt. Your hand covers the gash to apply pressure, a wince leaving your lips.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've been stabbed before," you say with a casual tone, trying to act as if the wound throbbing with pain wasn't enough to take you to your knees.

Wandas eyes burn red, an anger behind her eyes you had never seen before.

"I'm going to fucking kill them," she spits out, malice behind her words. Before she can walk away your hand reaches out to grab her wrist, stopping her.

"Wanda... don't leave me," you say softly, your touch and now gentle tone enough to calm her down only a little. She takes a deep breath, her hands still shaking with anger, but nods.

"Alright, alright, come here," she sighs softly and kisses your cheek before letting you lean on her for support as you make your way down. "We'll get you out of here and then I'm going to fucking kill them."

You chuckle a little at her reaction, face heating again just like earlier. You could see it written on her face, the way her jaw was tensed and the fire burning behind her eyes, that she wasn't lying.

"Did you see those guys I took out?" You ask, trying to lighten her mood. Wanda can't help but smile at you, both of you knowing she had fully taken on the group of them.

"They looked pretty rough, detka.. not sure why Steve and Nat thought you needed help," She says knowingly.

When she did return, it was with crimson splattered across the front of her suit and a smile on her face. You didn't say a word, only giving her a kiss and letting her wrap her arms around you.

You nod in approval, letting her stop to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. Not that you needed it, but you weren't going to deny being in the arms of Wanda, and she wasn't going to let another person lay their hands on you again. As soon as you were safe with Natasha, Wanda disappeared.

[crazyyluvr]

The World Wants to Melt my Face Off I Swear-

pairing: sirius black x gn!reader

summary: If the summer heat was not going to back down, you’re just going to take matter into your own hands. And Sirius is all up for it.

genre: fluff, mild suggestiveness

wc: 698

content: modern au, you and sirius live together, established relationship, reader removes/changes clothes but no gender-aligned body parts are mentioned, HOT SUMMER HEAT, watermelon <3

note: totally didn’t write this because it’s so damn hot and i need a way to cope with the heat, totally not… (i wouldn't do this if I lived with someone, but if I lived alone, I'd 100% walk around in just my underwear — THAT'S HOW HORRIBLE THE HEAT IS HERE)

drabble under the cut :: not edited

Summer was relentless.

It was like the world was getting hotter every year, because you were pretty sure that you didn’t feel like you were going to get burns on your feet just from walking around in your house a few years ago.

Sirius found it amusing to hear you swear to yourself once in a while and complain about the heat radiating off the walls of your shared home. The scrunch of your eyebrows and the way your lip set in a slightly curving pout was adorable to him.

But that wasn’t the only reasons why he enjoyed the times when you get worked up like this.

The long-haired boy liked it because you would change your dressing style at home to accommodate the heat and make sure your body doesn’t feel too warm.

Your usual baggy, long-sleeved style was replaced with tank tops and shorts that left little to his imagination. It was one of the only times you didn’t care about how much skin you were displaying, more focused on keeping yourself from overheating.

You were rummaging around the kitchen one late afternoon, trying to find ice for your beverage. Not even the cold that it got from being in the fridge was enough for you.

Sirius was laying down in your shared bedroom, the air conditioner working overtime to keep the room chilly enough to keep you comfortable. He was already buried under the comforter and an extra blanket and yet he was still shivering a little. How were you this warm-blooded?

"Siri!" You called, voice muffled from the walls, but it reached Sirius's ears nonetheless. He pulled the covers off of him and walked towards the door. He opened it to be greeted by a rush of heat.

"Close it quickly, you'll let the cold out," you said, focused on your task in the kitchen. It was mid afternoon, and the sun was merciless with its bright and hot rays breaking through the windows.

He soft and fond laugh escaped his lips, but he followed your wishes and shut the door gently behind him.

"You hollered for me love?" He said, turning to look at you before stopping in your tracks.

You didn't have a shirt on. (If you have a bra, then you're wearing a sports bra still btw <3)

Your back was exposed to him, showing off the curve of your spine and the contours of your back.

"You want some watermelon?" You asked, still not turning to look at him. "I found some earlier today in the market and left them in the fridge, so now they're cold."

You finally looked over your shoulder when you didn't get a response, only to roll your eyes when you saw Sirius's dumbstruck expression.

"What? It's hot!" You said defensively, putting down your knife and angling your body to properly face him.

He grinned, approaching you and examining your body (as if it wasn't anything he hasn't seen before). "You're hot, babe."

You rolled your eyes again, but a smile slipped past your façade. "Suree..."

Sirius put his hands on your hips, dragging them up your sides and to your shoulders. You shivered slightly from the cold that lingered on his pale fingers.

"We can just have the watermelon later," he murmured, leaning in and placing a kiss on the crook of your neck that was coated in a light sheen of sweat, making you laugh and push him away. "Sirius I'm sweaty!"

"So?" Sirius shrugged, pulling you closer still. "It's not something I haven't dealt with."

You swat his arm, turning around and focusing back on your fruit, but it was hard when Sirius molded his chest into your back, placing kisses on shoulder, neck, and the higher part of your back.

"Sirius, I want to have fruit," You said, voice slightly whiny.

Sirius groaned. "Fineee, but we're definitely gonna do something about this when we're done."

He pressed his hips against you and you gasped when you felt something against you, shoving him away with another laugh. "Sirius Black, you horny man!"

"Only for you, m'love," he said cheekily, winking.

You did end up happily eating your fruit. And helping Sirius with his little (not really little) problem as well.

[futterurl]

Hii do you do angsty smut? I’m craving angst & smut for Josh futturman . Love your first work here btw ❤️

tysm anon i fucking LOVE angst and smut mixed. literally two in one combo. i got u :b apologies if this wasnt what u were looking for!!

WARNINGS: angst, bleeding, pretty graphic, smut (mdni!), oral(f!receiving), p in v, creampie, afab reader

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you clutched your side, agony hitting every inch of your body. getting shot in your side wasn’t how you thought this mission was gonna go.

it was supposed to be simple: have everyone eat the Kronish balls, save the day, yada-yada. in and out. that wasn’t the case, however, when everyone who wasn’t borderline poisoned by the kronish balls turned out to be bionic.

josh wasn’t looking behind himself, not seeing a bionic creeping up to him at a quick pace with a knife in hand. you ran as fast as you could, trying to tell him to watch out.

you pushed josh out of the way, causing the bionic to stab you right in the side. the pain hit immediately, agonizing pain. you doubled over, wanting to remove the piece of steel. you knew this would only make it worse. you had to keep it in, at least until you were able to get somewhere safe.

“shit.” tiger panicked, seeing you on the ground, clutching your torso for dear life. you looked up at her with weak eyes, coughing up spurts of blood.

“gotta. got’ get help.” you tried to speak as hard as you could without exerting too much effort. she was able to pick you up and avoid the bionics, which wolf was going crazy with.

“guys! abort the mission. s’ in critical condition!” tiger yelled at josh and wolf, seeing their expressions drop as they saw her holding you, borderline limp in her arms. as they fended off the last of the bionics, they raced over to see you, crying and tired.

“fuck, fuck, this is my fault, fuck.” josh started talking at 100 miles an hour.

“this is nobody’s fault. someone get a goddamn car and bring us home.” wolf yelled. they all raced over to the car they took, tiger slamming on the gas the second you all piled in, josh now gently bringing you into the back.

“fuck, hurts s’ bad, fuck.” you grit through your teeth, hand bloody from holding onto your side. josh had propped you up against the car window. he kept his hand right on top of yours, whispering endless strands of “i’m sorry” and “this is my fault” through tears. this was the last thing he wanted to do, especially to the girl he loved, even if she didn’t know.

you were so selfless, you took a fucking knife to the torso for him. he owed you his fucking life, if you were okay after this, that is. he was gonna make sure you were okay. he clung onto your other hand and held onto it for dear life.

in just minutes, tiger was stopping the car in front of josh’s house. josh took you into his arms, racing up to his room, flat out ignoring his parents.

he laid you onto his bed, propping you up high with a good amount of pillows.

“i have a first aid kit in my bathroom. go get it. it’s in the cabinet.” he yelled at tiger and wolf. he couldn’t stay one second away from you. not like this.

wolf ran to get it, coming back in mere seconds. he had a wet rag. “we gotta take the knife out and put this over it immediately.” he panted.

“take my hand. this might hurt.” josh offered, holding out his hand to you, which you took into yours with ease.

“one, two, three”

tiger removed the knife, to which wolf covered you with the wet rag. you screamed and wailed as you crushed josh’s hand with yours. you had never experienced that amount of pain in your entire life.

“the worst is over. you did it.” tiger tried to ease your worries, offering you painkillers in the first aid kit wolf had brought.

“fuck. still hurts s’ fucking bad, fuck.” you silently cried. this felt like torture. you felt like you were going to puke.

“can you guys give us some privacy please? sorry, she’s overwhelmed and i know how to help her.” josh said, looking at tiger and wolf. “can you guys go talk to my parents? tell them we’re all good?”

they got the signal. they quickly left and shut the door behind them.

josh looked at you. “fuck, i’m so sorry. this is all my fault. i didn’t want you to get hurt like this, i’m so sorry…” he started to tear up.

you caressed his face. “it’s okay, josh. it wasn’t your fault, nothing you could’ve done. i’m still alive, aren’t i?”

“i know, but it shouldn’t be you with the fucking knife in your side.” he replied. he was really worried about you, his heart racing. he didn’t want you to be hurt. at all. he’d gladly take a knife for you for this to be overwith. for you to not be in any more pain.

“it’s okay, really. i jumped in.” you yawned, starting to get tired.

“okay, okay.” he wasn’t gonna argue with you anymore. “is there anything i can do for you?”

you squeezed his hand. “go to sleep with me for awhile?” you asked in a hushed tone.

nothing would’ve made him happier. he couldn’t be away from you, not now, not ever. he wanted to make sure that you’d be safe. with him. in his arms.

“of course. i..i’ll stay here with you. as long as you need.” he took a few pillows from under you, letting you lay down, he laying down next to you. you cuddled up to him a bit, making him blush. thank god the light was dimmed low.

“thank you…” you drifted off as you muttered those words. josh looked down at you, watching you fall into a deep sleep. he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. even after dying, you still looked so fucking perfect. how?

why would you take a knife for me? he asked himself, over and over. i hate seeing you like this.

the last thing he wanted to do was to see you in pain, and now he saw you in pure agony, on his behalf. he felt lime such a shitty person. the least he could do is lay with you.

he wouldn’t admit that was what he secretly wanted all along. he caressed your cheek before laying his head down, joining you in a peaceful slumber.

.

.

.

you spent the next couple days attached to josh like you two were conjoined at the hip. he was constantly there for your every need, whether that be for water, food, painkillers, anything.

you were healing up nicely. sure, you were still in pain, but it was significantly less than what it originally was. having josh by your side helped a lot.

you two were laying in his bed, when the painkillers sort of wore off. you winced.

“you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“yeah, just hurts a bit.” you responded.

“you need anything? i can get it.” he offered.

“no, josh, really, it’s fine.” josh had been there for you at your every need, you were starting to feel bad. it felt like he was being a servant for you.

“i don’t want you to be in pain though.” he looked lost in thought. it looked like he wanted to say something.

“is there something on your mind, josh?” you asked.

“uh..uh, kind of. you ever have something on your mind but you don’t wanna say it because you don’t know if it’ll ruin something but you really don’t know what reaction you’ll get-” he started to talk faster and faster as he talked more and more.

“josh, we’ve known each other for what, how many years? we’ve talked about anything and everything. you can talk to me.” you propped yourself up to look at him.

he looked nervous. well, he always looked nervous. this time, however, he looked super nervous. something was on his mind.

"i was just gonna say, um, that, uh, i know a way to make you feel better...but, uh, it's kinda weird...yeah." he started stammering over his words.

"what is it, josh?" you asked. did he just bite his lip?

"i...i could make you...y'know..." he looked from your face down to your body, back up to you.

"make me what?" your heart started beating ever so slightly faster. might he be alluding to...?

"i...i could make you...make you cum. i know it's not a painkiller or anything, but it might take your mind off stuff. it's stupid, i..i should stop talking now. i shouldn't have said that. it's stupid. i'm sorry-"

you cut him off by putting your hand gently under his jaw and kissing him passionately. you started to grasp at his hair, holding it in fistfulls.

once your lips disconnected, you started breathing heavily. "josh, i'd love that. please. really." you never thought he'd ever ask you to do anything like this.

"really? am i dreaming?" he asked, rubbing your forearm gently.

"no. please, josh. make me feel good." you pleaded. now that the idea was out there, you were dead set on this. you didn't want anyone but him.

he got on top of you, starting to kiss your lips, your cheeks, your jawline, your neck. everything. it felt perfect. you could already feel your focus on your pain being subsided to this.

he lowered himself, settling in between your thighs, rubbing your hips. he held the ends of your shirt.

"can...can i see how it's doing first? just to check? don't wanna make it worse." he played with the hem of your shirt.

"yeah, yes. do it." you responded.

he lifted up your shirt to your ribcages, examining your bandages. it still looked pretty nasty, but it had certainly healed a lot since a few days ago.

"fuck...i'm still so, so sorry. i really am." he started to get a bit teary eyed while tenderly rubbing the skin by your bandages, careful to not get too close to where it would hurt.

"josh, really, it's okay. it happens. please. i don't want you to feel bad about this. it really is okay." you scratched at his hair.

"okay, okay...m'sorry. lemme make it up to you." he pressed a kiss to your stomach as he unzipped your shorts. he pulled them down slowly, not wanting to make your body jolt or be in any more pain that it was already in. he lost his breath, looking at you in just your shirt and panties. he still couldn't believe it.

"you...you okay?" you asked.

"y-yeah. i'm great. just...can't believe this is happening. you're so beautiful." he lay his head on one of your thighs, giving it a light kiss. that made you shudder. you didn't realize your thighs were that sensitive.

"thank you, thank you..." you started to mumble, becoming a bit nervous.

josh sensed your nerves. "you know, you don't have to let me do this, if you don't want me to. i know it's very up and personal."

"no, i really do, it's just...i'm just...nervous, is all. just...go slow please." you asked.

he played with the hems of your panties. "don't worry, i'll go as slow as you need." he pressed a kiss to your hip bones. "would you...would you mind if i took these off?"

"please. take them off." you were starting to get desperate.

he slowly eased them down your legs, getting a glimpse of your glistening pussy. he felt his eyes widen.

"can i...can i make you feel good?" he asked, pressing a kiss on your pubic bone.

"please, josh. want you to make me feel good so badly." you were practically begging at this point.

he lowered his head just a bit, propping himself truly inbetween your thighs, licking a stripe up your slit. you shuddered, new to the sensation. it felt weird, but in a good way.

"that feel okay?" he asked.

"yes, josh, for the love of god, please...more." you begged.

his tongue rested on your clit, rubbing it with the wet muscle. this sent shivers down your spine. it rubbed back and forth on the tiny area. you let out a moan, back starting to arch off the bed.

"shit...feels s'good josh, oh my god." you moaned, him drinking up your moans.

his lips attached themselves around your clit and just sucked. this sent all sorts of waves of pleasure through you. you pulled at his hair as he sucked at your clit. he ran his tongue in circles around the sensitive bud. had he ever done this before?

his tongue ran down your cunt, entering your tight hole with a moan from you. his thumb snuck up to your clit, not giving it a break as he rubbed tight circles around it.

"feels t' good, holy shit..." you were becoming putty in his hands as he tongue fucked you.

"you taste s' fucking good." he moaned into your pussy as his thumb became even faster around your clit, using your slick as lube. "love every part of you, fuck."

it didn't help that he was practically groaning into your cunt as he went down on you, letting out little whimpers and moans into you.

he heard you start to get louder and louder. he knew you were getting close to your release. his head went back up to your clit, giving it even more stimulation.

"josh...so close, oh my god..." your hips were starting to slightly buck up into his mouth.

"i know, pretty girl, not gonna stop until you cum down my fucking throat." he pleaded, urging you as he sopped at your clit, constantly hitting the bundle of nerves. your thighs got tighter around his head.

"i...oh my god...i think i'm gonna..." you started to pant hard, getting lost in the pleasure.

"c'mon. let it out. cum in my mouth. please. make me happy and cum on me. wanna make you feel so fucking good." he said in between licks.

one of them in particular make the tight band forming in your stomach snap, you finally getting that sweet, sweet release as you moan incoherent babbles to josh, as his tongue slowly eased at your cunt.

once you came down from your high, he started to rub little circles around your hips again. "you okay?" he asked.

"fuck...that was really fucking good, josh. oh my god." you panted as he peppered your stomach in kisses.

"good, m' glad." he rubbed the skin close to your bandage. "did i do anything to make it hurt any more?" he asked, worry etching on his eyebrows.

"no, it's all fine...i feel really good right now." you looked down at him, his face a mess of saliva and your slick. that was hot.

"good." he came up a little bit, you getting a peak at his erection standing through his pants.

"do you...do you want me to take care of that?" you asked, alluding to something more.

he caught his breath. "uh..are-are you sure? i know you just...y'know. you sure you want to?"

"please, josh. i want you to fuck me." you had never felt so desperate than you did right now. you needed him.

"i don't know if this is gonna hurt you. if it does, tell me and we're done." he said, getting out of his pants, his erection standing up in his boxers. your eyes widened. you couldn't believe he was going to be inside you.

"thank you josh, i will." you pulled him in to a kiss, your hand traveling down to his boxers, lightly gripping at his clothed cock. he let out a whimper.

"that feel good?" you asked.

"yes, fuck yes that felt good. but this is about you, not me. gonna make you feel good again. promise." he pulled away as he swiped down his boxers, freeing his girthy erection.

he positioned himself, sitting up on his knees, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder, alligning his cock with your dripping cunt. he ran his tip over your clit, you both shuddering.

"i..i'm gonna put it in now, okay?" he asked for permission, hands gently holding onto your hips, careful not to hurt you with the pressure. "i'll go slow, i promise."

"please." you whimpered.

he pressed it at your entrance, his tip slowly going inside you. he let out a shudder as he traced his thumbs back and forth on your thighs, trying to ease your nerves.

"fuck, oh my god. only have the tip in but it feels s' fucking good. you're so tight. fuck." he started to become a whimpering mess.

he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you even more, at such a slow pace to make sure you weren't in any pain. sure, you had done this before, you told him, but it had been some time since. the last thing he wanted to do was make you hurt down there too.

"put the rest in josh, please." you whimpered.

he obliged, slowly bottoming out. all the sensations hit him at once: your tight, sopping cunt squeezing his cock. he knew he wouldn't last long.

"god, you're so tight, holy shit, feels so fucking good." he wailed, praising you as he caressed your hips. "you good?"

you nodded. you felt so full, it felt amazing. he looked at you with care and concern, like you were the only person in the world right then. it was perfect. he was doing all this for you.

"please start moving. feels good." you pleaded.

he nodded furiously, taking an experimental thrust into you, to which you both moaned out to. he was constantly letting out strings of "oh god" and "fuck" into the room as he started to grip your thigh.

he started to get into a motion, him pistoning in and out of you at a quick pace. your tight gummy walls pulled him in with every thrust, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

"oh my god, you feel so good. love this pussy so much, holy shit." he was practically worshipping you at this point as his hips drove into yours, you letting out moans in response.

one of his hands found itself at your cunt, his thumb starting to bully your clit in tight circles, you letting out a loud moan in response.

"josh, getting close, oh my god. fuck!" you pleaded for him. his thumb around your clit started to move even faster as his hips drove into you, hitting every spot.

"gonna cum soon, please cum with me." he pleaded in between moans, hips moving even faster. you broke down into a moaning mess as you felt another orgasm coming.

"you're so hot, holy shit. wanna fuck you like this forever. wanna get lost in this pussy. please. want you to come on my cock over and over again. shit." he let out rambles as he started to reach his peak.

these words let you to your second orgasm, your cunt becoming even tighter around his cock as you moaned as loud as possible, yelling his name. your cunt squeezing him made him come undone, cumming inside you.

he kept thrusting into you, riding out both of your highs, until you came down. he put your leg down, him slowly pulling out and laying down on you, being careful to not lay down on your bandage.

"that...that felt so good josh, oh my god." you started to play with his hair and rubbing his back.

"good. m' glad. i really wanted to make you feel good." his head lay on one of your breasts, paying attention to your breathing pattern.

"you..you really helped. i feel really good right now. thank you." you squeezed him into a hug.

he put one of his arms around you, enjoying the warmth of your body. "i'll always be here for you, i owe it to you. i'll stick bt your side, no matter what.

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a/n: womp womp sry if that was kinda mid (im a loser if u couldnt tell)

[scenezfreak]

Hey luv! I hope your doing good btw and could I ask for a Jeff the killer x fem reader smut where the reader is a soft one that sleeps with all her plushies and is the soft kind (btw im sorry if you don't understand what I mean!) ♥️

Jeff the Killer x soft s/o (smut)

Warnings: fem!reader, cream pie, oral (fem Rec) knife play??? Only one scene

NOT PROOF READ, MINORS DNI!!!

Jeff adored how soft and innocent you were. All those plushies you slept with in your bed. How cute you were. It made him want to ruin you. Everytime he came over to hang out all he could imagine was taking you and ruining your innocence. This particular night didn’t make it any better either.

Jeff walked in as you were cuddling a plushie while scrolling through your phone. He walked over and climbed on top of you, grabbing your phone and turning it off before laying it on the bedside table. “Huh? Je-“ was all you could manage when he dipped his head down to bite and suck at your neck. You let out a whimper. His hands started to wander up your torso from underneath your shirt. His hands touching your bare chest, twisting and pulling at your nipples. Your back arched with a strangled moan erupting from your throat. The plushie you were cuddling long forgotten.

He stopped and looked at you while removing your pants. “Gonna be a good girl f’me, darling?” He asked with that same eerie smile, you nodded, pouting so he knew to hurry up. Your pants and shirt discarded on the ground as he moved his way down, placing your legs over his shoulders. He smelled you through your underwear and gave a lick and then another one. Practically eating you out through your underwear. He grabbed something from his pocket— a knife? You were scared when he opened the pocket knife. He sliced off your underwear and quickly dove in.

You threw your head back, gripping the sheets as his tongue explored you. “Fuck.” You heard him groan into your pussy. He sucked at your clit before moving back to tongue fuck your hole. He put the pocket knife back into his pocket. Your thighs closing more around his head. He loved it. He loved your noises. He loved your scent. He loved your taste. He loved you.

Before you knew it he was on top of you, folding your body in half into a mating press. “Fuck darling. Gonna make me go insane..more than I already am.” You couldn’t respond, brain too fucked out. His balls slapping against your ass everytime he thrusted in. The position making you feel him deeper inside. “Jeff..please” hearing you whine and say his name only turned him on more. His somewhat kept nails digging into your plush thighs.

He could feel you getting closer. Speeding up as he chased his own release as well. And- god your face..your fucked out face was better than he imagined. It got even better when you came, tightening around him as your cum coated his cock. It sent him over the edge, with one final thrust he pressed balls deep before cumming in hot spurts inside of you.

Only when he pulled out is when he realized you passed out after he came inside of you. He laughed as he watched his seed drip out of you. He’d definitely have to ruin you again soon.

[mezzy-1]

Hi! Yes! I’m the ask! I’m very excited hehe. The 4 agents I chose for: Iso, Jett, Sage and Deadlock. If I had to describe the reader’s personality they’d be like private/reserved sort of very calm and an experienced fighter, reader could be fighting against the selected agents (sort of like how you did Nomad and their recruitment? I really like Nomad btw).

I unfortunately wasn’t able to find Acheron’s exact capabilities but I did decide on a basis for the reader’s abilities (Ice or snow) also I did find a few clips for reference:

https://youtu.be/l1Yw8r4F9W0?si=K-SiYUsK6Qi-v0dD

https://youtu.be/G2xiqsEoFDQ?si=R4VNy-oS_2fQ84qB

COLD RECEPTION // (VALORANT X READER)

Reader Profile//  SNOWFALL

Your status as a radiant made you stand out in the world, and your abilities terrified those around you.  The Scions of the Hourglass made a deal with you, they would train and care for you and you’d help maintain their secrecy.  Abandoning your lonely existence, you became a master of your ability over ice and did work for the Scions.  Soon, you began to doubt your allies and were assigned a Valorant agent to kill as a final test of loyalty.  

ISO 

There was a stillness in the air, brought on by a combination of the night and the cold that blew through the streets of a desolate industrial district

You waited outside with binoculars trained on the sidewalks, waiting for your target.  Deciding that your stakeout was taking too long, you looked over the dossier again

Li Zhao Yu, aka. Iso, defected from the Scions months ago to join an organization called Valorant.  His skills rivaled yours, and his power over radianite was strong too

The picture included didn’t match up with the face of a hardened killer though

Below you spotted something purple flash from the windows of an abandoned factory.  You narrowed your eyes and watched for more

Iso was locked in combat with a number of radiants.  If it wasn’t for the dossier you would've been shocked at how dangerous he was

He dropped each of the radiants one by one.  All the while, he maintained an air of calmness with each shot

He exited the building carrying some strange triangular device.  He put his finger to his ear and muttered something to an unknown receiver

Realizing he was calling in some kind of extraction, you put your plan into action and activated your radiance

Wind began to swirl around as frost collected on broken windows.  You pulled your knife from its sheath and let ice collect along the blade

Swinging the blade, you launched the collected frost towards Iso.  Your careful aim drove the ice spear into his shoulder

Leaping from your vantage point, you jumped from the building and slid down to street level.  You readed a pistol as you got to Iso

“You shouldn’t have left us,” you said, cocking the action back on your gun.  “People like you are one of a kind.”

“If you’re with the Scions, then don’t waste my time.  I work with Valorant now, and I washed my hands of those monsters.”

“They aren’t monsters, they saved me!  I was nothing before they came and trained me!”

“I read some files on you, Y/N.  You were missing for years and turned into a weapon for them.  They fear you, they only want to control you and use your power.”

“Is that what you think?  Is that why you left for some bullshit organization that pretends to care about you?  The Scions are my family now, and I won’t disappoint them.”

“Valorant would take care of you if you decide to come with me.  We can avoid this fight if you stand down.”

“I’d rather die than be a traitor like you.”

“...fine Y/N.  What happens now is on you.”  Iso grabbed the ice embedded in his shoulder and threw it to the ground

Taking your chance to shoot, you suddenly found yourself on the defensive.  Iso had reached for his Sheriff while removing the ice

Bullets almost reached your head as you took cover and blocked out the area with a sudden freezing mist

You heard a window break and ran after the sound, finding yourself inside an abandoned machine shop

With your first steps in, a bullet ricocheted off the wall behind you and sparks danced from the impact

As you moved farther in, more shots came from the darkness.  Iso was tired, injured, and had to hide

“Good.” you thought.  You began dropping the temperature around you while placing your knife in its sheath and charging it with cold

Iso’s breath was now visible from the frigid air.  He was hidden behind a hydraulic press and breathing quietly

You pulled the knife slowly from the sheath, letting ice condense onto it and extending it into a long icy blade

Silently, you moved about the shop.  Your footsteps were quiet from the stealth training you endured

As you moved towards Iso, violet hexagons crept underneath you and made contact.  You fell into the floor and were dropped into some strange realm

The dossier missed the fact that Iso could do this, because you were quickly disoriented by the rush of purple

“Y/N this is your last chance to stand down.  I’m not here to kill you, I want to leave that part of me in the past with the Scions.” echoed throughout the space

Iso appeared in front of you and you charged forwards with your blade, directly for his neck.  You sliced and crescent of frozen air spun towards his throat

He raised his hand and conjured a wall in front of him.  The ice slammed into the hardened tiles as you continued with your attack

Iso turned his wrist and pulled the trigger once.  The bullet went right for your head, and by closing the distance you were in even more danger

Suddenly you were back in the shop and Iso was in front of you

“Dui Bu Qi” he whispered before the world went dark around you

You awoke in a room lit by a single light and restrained in a chair.  Your head was sore and the room was almost spinning

“You’re finally up Y/N.  Hao de, we can finally talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, just kill me because I won’t tell you anything about the Scions!” you spat back

“I already have all the information I could ever want on them.  I don't need you to betray them for me.”

“You’re one to talk about betraying the Scions.”

“They won’t come to save you, now that they know you’ve been captured.  If anything they’ll either try and kill you or assume you’re dead.”

“No!  They’ll come for me, they’ll make you pay for taking me prisoner!”

“You were sent to kill me when I defected.”

Iso’s truth buried itself in a growing pit of despair in your stomach.  It was so obvious they would save you but something in you began to pull at that conviction

Tears streaked down your face and turned to snowflakes as they fell.  The realization that you would never have your life in order finally fell on you

A warm hand found its way onto your shoulder.  Iso’s palm met yours despite the freezing cold temperature

“Bie ku Y/N.  Don’t worry I know it looks lonely but you won’t be walking away from them alone.  I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“They were everything to me, but they…they’d kill me just like they’d kill anyone.  Did I ever mean anything to them at all?” you asked already knowing the answer

“It doesn’t help to think of them right now, what matters is that Valorant will care about you.  We aren’t here to kill or control, we just want to do right.” 

You looked up and in your state your power began to escape.  You began to grow colder and shivered slightly

Iso took his hand off of you and began to unzip his jacket

He draped it over your shoulders

“Y/N, you’re freezing.”

“It happens when I’m worried, I think I’ll be fine.”  you tried to avert your eyes but couldn’t pull them from Iso

“Are you saying you want to join Valorant then?”  Iso leaned in towards you

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, but you’ve been so patient with me.  I feel horrible for what I tried to do, but you’re being kind and I want to repay that somehow.” 

“I’ll talk to my higher ups and get you a room at the HQ.  While we wait, we should find a way to keep you warm.  Do you drink tea?”

“Sure, what kind do you have?” 

Having tea with Iso was the first of many moments you shared with the assassin.  Both of you had your respective pasts entwined, but that only brought you closer

Eventually it became a routine, meeting with Iso and just talking for hours on end about whatever you both thought

Months later, you realized that Valorant had become a second home for you.  It was all thanks to Iso

[yanderes-galore]

holy crap i'm really glad your allowing requests today for tomorrow cuz surly i would've forgotten ^^; can i request a sans prompt 1 and 24 from yandere-daze's prompt list? here's a little plot for you if you wanna follow it :3

darling has done a genocide run NOT because they wanted to or hated/was afraid of monsters, but to get rid of sans and live on without killing asgore and anyone else (maybe idk, they would probably erase the world to out of guilt) in the judgement hall, that's when the prompts come in? like i said, it's up to you to follow the plot! also, answer this in dms, are we allowed to send more then one request? i wanna make sure before request more. keep up the good work btw! :)

Ahh... so if they just want to kill Sans it's more like a neutral run? Either way, I hope I take this in a good direction, friend :)

A/N: I was screenshotting the original fic to send to the requester for editing... only to delete it and have to rewrite the fic from screenshots :')

Prompts Here

Yandere! Sans The Skeleton Prompts 1 + 24

“ I love you so much you have no idea.”

“ It’s okay for you to love me.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Heavy manipulation, Violence, Possessive behavior, Angst, Isolation, Yandere attempts to "redeem" himself, Kidnapping implied, Murder implied, Dubious turned forced relationship.

Sans partially understood your behavior. Despite this, he still thought he kept you happy. You two finally had a true pacifist run after so long.

Only you and Sans were aware of your resets... which was a reason he was close to you and loved you.

He thought you wanted to be happy together. You two were finally able to be together in that timeline. However... even Sans had to admit you didn't seem happy about it near the end.

Perhaps he was too selfish. Near the end of your perfect run he had become more and more... possessive? Controlling?

He loved you... when he saw that look in your eyes, he begged you not to reset. He'll better himself. He's obsessed with you... don't throw this way.

However, Sans didn't get better. He got worse. When you noticed him lock you away in a room, away from everyone else, you reset the run in hopes it will fix things...

It doesn't.

The multiple times afterwards doesn't fix things either. Sans retains that odd anomalous behavior towards you. Why was he the only one that was wrong?

So you figure out there's only one way to try and fix things....

Sans can sense the change in atmosphere when you greet him in the Judgment Hall. He sees the knife in your hand, he sees the dust on your clothes. His smile falters... what were you hoping to accomplish?

Were you that scared to love him?

"Human... you-" Sans tries to say, sockets locking onto the tears in your eyes. What was he feeling? Fear? Sadness? Guilt?

He thought he made you happy... why do you treat him as though he's done something wrong?

"I need to fix things, Sans." You try to say, stepping forward. "I don't want this, neither do you, but you won't let me go."

"Let you go?" Sans echoes, sockets narrowing. "I love you so much you have no idea... why would I let you go?"

"You don't love me. None of what you've been doing is love." You seethe, but Sans can tell you're pained. "I'm going to end this... I haven't hurt that many... I can fix this if I just remove you."

"You don't want to do that." Sans sighs, a sadness in his tone. "You're just... scared. If you just abandon this run now, we can be happy again!"

Sans steps forward this time, watching as you back away with tears streaming down your face. Why won't you let him comfort you? This isn't you... why won't you let him love you now?

"It's okay for you to love me." Sans continues, stepping closer. "We can make things work. I'm... not mad. I'm not mad because this isn't you. Don't you remember when I made you happy?"

"You locked me away! You hurt my family and my friends! You wanted me all for yourself!" You counter, going to swing. Said swing of your blade misses and you see Sans vanish from your sight.

"And I'll do it again," Sans whispers in your ear, using his power to shove you against him. "Because we belong to each other. There's nothing to be scared of, you know I'll take care of you."

There's a deafening silence between you two. Your grip on the knife trembles and you try again. However, Sans moves and snatches your knife.

"You couldn't even do the whole Genocide Run." Sans hums. "You don't really want to hurt them or me, hm? Even after all those other runs?"

You stare at the skeleton as he holds your cheek. His grin is haunting and his eye flares blue. He oddly looks smug... but pleading.

"You still love me... I know you do." Sans whispers, pulling you in for a tight hug. "Just reset one more time... and we can make things just like they were before. You know you can't get rid of me... you know you need me."

His manipulation seems to have worked as you begin to sob into his hood. You've tried so hard to make things right. Yet it appears Sans will always haunt you... and he will always remain the same.

You can't get rid of him just as he said...

In the end, you'll always belong with Sans... just like you did before.

[stealerofthe2ndbraincell]

Had a rough morning, so I ended up rewatching Zanzibar at like 5AM.

And oh Henry you beautiful, beautiful dumbass....

(This is just me rambling btw lol)

I see people give Viktor in Once Removed a lot of (light hearted) flack for the utter shit show that was his assassination attempt. Whilst I do agree, the circumstances in that episode (through May's meddling with the door and everything else about where he ended up lol) were accidentally set up against him throughout.

How he handled it was definitely debatable (although without that we wouldn't have gotten the beautiful silk, pink dressing gown<3), but he certainly did have a disadvantage.

HENRY, HOWEVER, HAS NO EXCUSE.

Whilst a mystery twin brother being in the exact same hotel as Rico and swapping rooms with him was out of Henry's control, it really shouldn't have gotten to that point.

Henry is introduced as Rico's diligent literal security advisor and seemingly main line of defence most of the time. Ergo, Henry should be the main and only person that knows where Rico is at all times, especially if he has plans to MURDER HIM.

Not only that, but he also straight up just did not have a plan. 💀

In fairness, Henry does start to work out a plan. E.g. He wonders if he should create a story involving trying to "save" Rico before backing out of it, considers even thinking of an alibi at all and then questions if he has left his microphone on before committing the act. The problem is this is literal moments before he was "planning" to kill Rico. And none of them are thought through.

"No longer in the shadows can I lurk"

Henry leaves his room to attack at that point with no plan (that line may be implying that he is acting earlier than he should), completely forgetting if he left his microphone on (which would reveal EVERYTHING), and also having not even made a start on considering an alibi.

Henry's regicide "plan" feels mostly based on impulse and a severe lack of restraint.

He also straight up does not know how alibis work.

If Rico died whilst Henry was at the hypnotist's show, then he would have a fairly good alibi, but Henry plans is to kill him now AFTER - which destroys it entirely.

And he completely switches gears the moment Tracey ("Red") becomes an option.... and chooses to pay her to drug Rico so he can kill him later... Giving him a loose end that could definitely be traced back to him and kind losing an easy person to frame.

Whilst he couldn't fully plan around the mystery twin (although, being the security advisor of a literal Prince, Henry may have had access to potential "threats" of Rico's there. He even mentions said "enemies" to warn the guy at the start), Henry had all the resources at his fingertips to pull off the murder cleanly (unlike Viktor who had everyone else and a wrong victim in the way) and seems to not be aware of it or actively squanders it.

And then he completely screws any chance of getting away with a murder by needlessly threatening Rico's biological Dad to get to him with multiple witnesses in a public hotel hallway!!!

I'm almost convinced this Regicide bit was just an excuse for Henry to get some stabbing done with his tiny, bloody baby knife.

I do love it all though ofc.

I like to picture Zanzibar taking place just after various silly, failed murder attempts where Rico survives out of pure obliviousness à la Debbie and Fester's honeymoon in Addams Family Values (with a sprinkly of utter incompetence on Henry's side).

Also bonus bit that I find kinda cute nice:

I love a dumbass. <3