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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months ago

Note

🤍

sooo here is my request! thank you!

Reader is bucky's ex fiancé (40's) and she is like a supersoldier too (she froze with steve and now she is an avenger)

but bucky does not remember her, so she has to deal with watching him dating some agents while she tries to make him remember that part of their life together (maybe with some letters and pics of them)

some angst - hurt / comfort with happy ending! 😭🤍

just bc i love this blog i would like to be "🕷️ anon" 😂

Remember Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be engaged in the 1940s, but he doesn’t remember you and you have to deal with him going on dates with other agents so you do everything you can to get him to remember you.

Warnings: mix of Angst and Fluff, language, crying, flashbacks, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also you can be my 🕷️ anon🥰

A/N #2: Italic text is flashbacks. I imagined this as Bucky’s post Winter Soldier phase and the reader is a Super Soldier in this.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

You stood in the doorway of the conference room, patiently waiting for Bucky to stop flirting with an agent so you can get him to sign paperwork from a previous mission. You couldn’t help but feel jealous. You and Bucky were engaged in the 1940s, but it didn’t last long. After a few minutes, Bucky finally noticed you standing in the doorway.

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” Bucky says to the agent and kissed her cheek.

Hearing Bucky call her doll felt like someone ripped your heart out of chest and crushed it in their bare hands. That’s what he used to call you.

“Can I help you, Agent?” He asks you.

“I need you to sign these papers from your mission last week.” You tell him, handing him the file.

“I’ll get these to you later.” He says.

You nodded and walked out of the conference room. You were about halfway down the hall when you had to lean against the wall and take a moment to yourself. Your back slid down the wall and you sat down on the floor. Your mind began to wander.

“You know I love you, right, doll?” Bucky asks.

“Of course I know that, Bucky.” You say with a smile.

Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours and kissed your lips sweetly.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes.” You lied.

You stood up from the floor and walked past Steve. Your walk was cut short when Steve gently grabbed your arm.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He pleads softly.

“You already know what’s wrong.” You said. “I have to live with the fact that my ex fiancée doesn’t remember me at all and I have to deal with him dating other agents.” You say.

“Give him time, Y/N. He’ll remember you.” He says softly.

You gave him a soft smile before walking away.

Later that same day, you were in the gym, punching the punching bag as hard as you could. You were trying to get the thought of Bucky out on a date with that agent. You punched the punching bag one last time before leaving the gym.

You got on the elevator to go to your bedroom. As soon as you got off of the elevator, you seen Bucky kissing that agent. You stood there with a shattered heart. You quickly went to your room before he seen you.

You immediately caught a glimpse of the picture of you and Bucky from the day he proposed to you. You picked up the picture from your nightstand and looked at it, reminiscing that day.

“Where are you taking me, Bucky?” You asked, followed by a giggle.

“You’ll find out in a minute, doll.” Bucky says.

Bucky told you he had a surprise for you and blindfolded you for it. Your walking came to a stop and Bucky let go of you.

“Take the blindfold off.” He says.

You took the blindfold off and gasped. Bucky took you to yours and his favorite tree. Your favorite flowers were surrounding the bottom of it and he carved “Will you marry me?” on the tree with a pocket knife.

“Bucky-” You turned around and gasped.

“What do you say doll?” Bucky was down on one knee with a small velvet box with a beautiful diamond ring in it. “Will you marry me?” He asks.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” You answered with happy tears streaming down your cheeks.

Bucky smiles widely and stood up. He slid the ring on your ring finger and kissed you passionately.

That memory slowly faded away. You let out a shaky breath and your eyes began to water. You took a deep breath before taking a shower and went to bed.

The next morning, as you were getting dressed you seen something shining on your dresser from the corner of your eye. It was Bucky’s Army dog tags. You picked them up and looked at them. A smile grew on your face when an idea popped into your head. You immediately went to the kitchen, already knowing Bucky was in there.

“Morning, Bucky!” You chirped.

“It’s Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky corrects you.

“What?” You asked, blinking a couple times.

“You called me Bucky. Only friends call me that. Agents call me Sergeant Barnes.” He says.

“Oh…” Your voice sounding sad. “I umm…” You found what you were trying to say. “I just wanted to show you something.” You finally say.

“What is it?” He asks.

You held out your hand, showing him his Army dog tags. Bucky snatched them from your hand, making you flinch a little.

“Why the hell do you have these?” He asks harshly.

“I uhh… Steve gave them to me in 1945 when you di- fell off the train.” You tell him. “He thought that I might want them cause you’re my ex fiancée.” You explained.

“I’m not your ex fiancée.” Bucky’s words cut you deep like a knife. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I sure as hell know that I’m not your ex fiancée.” He says before walking away.

You stood in the middle of kitchen with tears streaming down your face. You hoped that showing Bucky his Army dog tags would spark something in his memory of you, but you guessed wrong.

“Why would you give these to Agent Y/L/N after I fell off the train in 1945?” Bucky asks Steve when he walked in the conference room.

“She’s your ex fiancée. I assumed that’s what you wanted. I was just honoring your wishes.” Steve answered.

“She’s not my ex fiancée! I’ve never been engaged in my life!” Bucky raised his voice. “You’re the second person to say that to me today!” He says.

Bucky walked out of the conference room before Steve could say anything else. He stood up from his seat and went to find you. He found you crying at the kitchen table. He sat down next to you and immediately started comforting you.

“I’m fine, Steve.” You lied, your voice cracking.

“No you’re not.” Steve said. “You have every right to be upset.” He says softly.

You turned towards Steve and laid your head on his shoulder, letting your tears free fall. Steve being the good friend he is, comforted you in the only way he knows.

“He basically said that I’m not his friend and I can’t call him Bucky.” You cried against his shoulder. “It’s like I never existed to him.” You say.

“You’re more than his friend.” He says softly.

“I know that, but he doesn’t.” You say, followed by a sniffle.

Later that day, you kept trying to come with ways to get Bucky to remember you. So far you couldn’t come up with anything. You were sitting in the conference room, filling out paperwork when you got lost in your memories of you and Bucky.

“Bucky!” You squealed as Bucky picked you up from behind and spun you around, making burst into a fit of giggles.

Bucky finally put you down on your feet and turned you around so you were facing him. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately.

The memory was interrupted when Bucky dropped a file on the table in front of you. You looked at the file and then looked at Bucky.

“Steve said to sign these and to get them to him by the end of the day.” Bucky says blandly.

“Will do, Sergeant.” You say.

You watched Bucky walk out of the conference room. You stared at the unopened file for a moment before leaving the room without finishing your paperwork. You went straight to your bedroom to get something. You wanted to try to get Bucky to remember you again.

You went in your closet, going to the back of it. You opened a plastic storage container where you kept all of the letters Bucky wrote you while he was in the Army. You picked them up and immediately went to find Bucky. You found him in the lounge room kissing another agent.

“Sergeant?” Bucky acted like he didn’t hear you. “Sergeant Barnes?” You say louder.

Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at you. The agent he was kissing walked past you, giving you a small smile.

“Is there something I can do for you, Agent?” Bucky asks.

“I wanted to read these papers.” You say.

You hand him the old letters. Bucky took the letters from your hands and read them, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he seen his name signed at the bottom of each letter.

“What are these and why is my name on all of these?” He asks.

“Those are the letters you sent me in the 1940s when you were in the Army.” You tell him.

Bucky continued to read the letters. A hopeful smile grew on your face, but didn’t last long. He stood up and shoved the letters in your hands.

“That’s not me.” He says.

“But-” You got interrupted.

“But nothing. We were never engaged. Stop trying to get me to remember things that never happened.” He says.

You nodded as your eyes began to water. You went back to your room and put the letters back. You were about to close the container when you saw a stuffed puppy Bucky won you at Coney Island on yours and his first date. You took it out of the container and sat on your bed, holding it close to you as the memory of that day appeared in your mind.

You stood next to Bucky and watched him knock down all the bottles with a small ball. You smiled and cheered him on.

“What prize would you like, doll?” Bucky asks you.

You looked at the variety of stuffed animals displayed in front of you. You smiled when you seen a stuffed puppy with a red bow on it.

“That one.” You say, pointing at it.

The worker handed it to you. You took it from him and held it close to you.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say, smiling up at him.

“Anything for my best girl.” He says, kissing you sweetly.

You sadly sighed and laid down with the stuffed puppy in your arms. You didn’t even know you fell asleep, because you woke up to the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom door. You got out of bed and opened the door to see Bucky.

“Can I help you, Sergeant Barnes?” You asked.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asks.

You nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to come in your room. You closed the door behind you and waited for him to say something.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been talking to you the past couple days.” He apologizes. “I just don’t understand why you keep saying we were engaged years ago when-” That’s when Bucky seen the picture of you and him on your nightstand. “This is me.” He says, picking up the picture to look at it.

“It’s me and you in 1941.” You tell him. “I have more pictures if you want to see them.” You say.

Bucky nodded. You went in the closet to get the pictures. You opened a photo album, showing him a bunch of pictures of the two of you when you guys were together. He took the photo album from you to get a closer look at them. He looked through the pictures without saying a word. Another hopeful smile grew on your face, hoping that Bucky will remember who you are this time. The smile was short lived when Bucky shoved the photo album in your hands and left your bedroom without saying a word. A sad sigh left your lips and you put away the pictures. You were beginning to think that Bucky was never going to remember you, but you weren’t going to give up that hope.

Bucky was supposed to be getting ready for a date with another agent, but those pictures of you and him together were the only thing on his mind. He sat in the lounge room, trying his best to remember who you are, but nothing rang a bell. His thoughts were interrupted when the agent he’s supposed to go on a date with walked in the room.

“Hi!” The agent chirps. “Are you ready?” She asks.

“Yea, I just-” That’s when his memories of you flowed back in his mind like a broken dam. “Actually no. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.” He says, leaving the room and leaving the agent confused.

Bucky searched around the whole compound for you, but couldn’t find you. He accidentally bumped into Steve without realizing it. Steve walked after him and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Buck, calm down. What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

“Y/N. Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“She’s outside.” He tells him. “Why?” He asks.

Bucky didn’t answer Steve’s question. He just ran outside, looking for you. He didn’t have to go far. You were sitting on the bench trying to figure out another way to get Bucky to remember you. He walked over to you and grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the bench and kissed you passionately. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. He pulled away from your lips, leaving the two of you breathless.

“I remember.” Bucky tells you. “I remember you.” He says.

“You remember me?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes.” He confirms. “Seeing those letters and pictures made me remember everything.” He smiles. “I’m sorry for the way things ended between us. I was just pissed. Please forgive me and give me another chance, doll.” He says apologetically.

Your eyes began to water with happy tears, a couple tears rolled down your cheeks. Hearing Bucky call you doll for the first time in years made you happy.

“Don’t cry, doll.” He wipes your tears away. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes again.

“I can’t help it.” You sniffled. “I just missed you.” You say.

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly, not wanting to let go. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“How about we picked up where we left off.” Bucky suggests.

“You still want to marry me?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I do.” He smiles widely. “You’re my best girl.” He says.

“I don’t have the engagement ring you gave me anymore. I accidentally lost it.” You say, feeling ashamed.

“It’s ok. I’ll buy you another one. In the meantime…” Bucky took his dog tags off and put them around your neck. “You can wear these as an engagement ring.” He says.

You looked down at his dog tags, smiling widely. You looked up at him and cupped his stubbly cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed him passionately. Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist and pulled you against his body.

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You say against his lips.

“I love you more, doll.” Bucky says softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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saetoru · 1 year ago

Note

So tell us how the first kiss goes between y/n and suguru in rich! boyverse 🙏🏼

✩ ��₊˚ ✩。IF ONLY — GETO SUGURU. (rich boy! au)

based on this — disclaimer: this is a side au! to rb! gojo but it’s not rly part of the “story.” it’s just for fun and builds off the au, but you may disregard it !!

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo + geto, reader is dating gojo, cheating (reader on gojo w geto), mutual pining, a make out kiss ; notes. uh….it’s here guys. the first installment of mr. geto “steal your girl” suguru. we have sinned the ultimate sin 🚶🏽‍♀️ rip satoru my babie </3

dating satoru should be enough—it was enough. but then suguru came along, and, well….suguru is magnetic.

his voice is that deep husk that sends shivers down your spine, his hair is long and frames his face so flawlessly, and when you catch a glimpse of his skin when his shirt rides up, you can’t help but think about the way he’s so defined. sharp, like he’s cut from stone, suguru is sculpted perfectly. satoru is everything you could have asked for….but suguru? he’s like a dream you didn’t think was a reality.

“hey,” he greets you sweetly as he opens his door, “you’re early. satoru hasn’t even left his house yet.”

early—you’re not early. you’re desperate. desperate to catch suguru alone. desperate to enjoy his company without feeling bad. desperate to stare at him while satoru isn’t there to notice. you didn’t come early by accident—you chose to be here before satoru.

“hi,” you grin, “you wound me suguru. don’t you wanna spend time with me?”

“i didn’t say that,” he chuckles, flicking your forehead affectionately.

suguru has always done that, he’s always been good at touching you in that casual way that’s so endearing and so dizzying—but it never crosses the line. his fingers tap against your forehead when he’s playful, and his hand steadies you on the elbow when you trip, and sometimes, he even hugs you with a squeeze that’s nothing more than friendly even though it makes your heart stop.

suguru is so alluring—and even when you have everything you need with satoru, you can’t help but want what you can’t have.

“i hope you got snacks because i require them,” you hum, sitting on island of his kitchen and swinging your legs back and forth.

“i did,” he snorts, “i got your favorite—”

he stops when he looks at you, has to pause and stare as you’re sat so casually in his home, looking so sweet and innocent and so, so pretty. you’ve always been pretty—you don’t even know it, how perfect you are. it makes you that much more desirable, makes him want to tell you every day until you believe him that you’re so god damn pretty.

and then he has to look away, has to ignore those thoughts that pop in his head about how it almost looks like you’re his, sat in his kitchen and asking for his snacks and smiling at his figure and seeking out his company. it almost feels like you’re his—almost.

so close, yet so painfully far.

it makes him a bad friend. he knows that—satoru has been glued to his side since he was a child. suguru doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he remembers without satoru, and he’s always liked it that way. loved it, in fact. satoru is a good best friend. the greatest, even. and he’s just as good of a boyfriend too—suguru should respect it, should put his head down and fight his demons and forget about his fantasies with you.

but then you pout as you whine, “gimme some, then. what’re you waiting for?”

“they’re for the movie,” he huffs, “don’t think i’ll share with you if you’re out of snacks before we finish the movie.”

“aw c’mon sugu,” you tease, giving him that dangerous smile of yours, “you’ll share with me, won’t you?”

yes. he’ll give you half of his soul if you asked. he’d carve out every bit of him to complete you if you needed him to, if you asked him to—he just needs you to ask. just once, he needs you to ask him.

“you’re a handful,” he mutters, “get your own snacks.” but he grabs a bag of chips from the pantry anyway, walks up to you and presses it to your hands. your fingers brush together as you reach—just at the tips, just barely for it to even count as a touch, but it makes you both still anyway.

he’s close. you can smell his cologne. he can smell your body wash. your fingers don’t pull away. his inch a little closer and feel your skin a little better. your face is close. his leans closer. and then you’re leaning in too—why are you leaning in? why aren’t you stopping? why isn’t he stopping?

and then it happens. his lips are on yours before you even realize it—you don’t even realize it, that’s the worst part. you don’t even register that you’re kissing suguru, your boyfriend’s best friend, the only one he has, because you’re so busy being lost in the feeling. his lips are warm, so soft and delicate and fuck, they’re a bit chapped and it only makes you want him more.

what other imperfections does he have? besides chapped lips, what else is there to discover? maybe his hair isn’t as soft when he hasn’t washed it after a few days. maybe his hands are a bit rough and calloused. maybe he has a scar or two from his childhood.

you don’t know, but you need to find out.

your hands are cupping his cheeks, making him lean into your mouth shakily, arms pulling you closer desperately. his arms are strong—they hold you tightly like you have nowhere else to go. and then when you take a chance as slip your fingers into his hair, to feel those strands you’ve only ever been able to stare at, he whines against your mouth.

like he wants more. like he needs more. like he’s always ever wanted more.

“c’mere,” he pants, “closer.”

you can’t help but listen. can’t help but lean closer and let him stand in between your legs as you’re sat on that damn kitchen island—you’ve kissed satoru against this same island. in secret. in a kiss or two you sneak when suguru doesn’t look. in a hopeless daze of want and need that always turns into more as soon as you’re both in private.

and now you’re kissing suguru. and it’s not enough. you need more—you feel like you can’t live without more.

“suguru,” you murmur, just because you need to taste his name on your lips when they’re whispered like that—like he’s yours.

“yeah?” he breathes, forehead pressed to your as his lips hover over your mouth—his breath is shared with yours, breathing you in and exhaling you out so you can inhale him too.

your hands are back on his face, thumb tracing the skin of his cheek so gently, it almost hurts that he’s gone this long without feeling you.

“i just wanted to say that,” you mumble, pecking his lips softly. he hums happily, closing his eyes as he leans into your hand and smiles.

“yeah?” he chuckles, “say it again—”

“guys i’ve finally arrived! the answer to your prayers,” satoru calls, opening the front door from the distance, “i know you’re bored without me. don’t worry, i’m here now.”

you pull away faster than lighting when you hear satoru, like suguru’s touch is the spark that’ll kill you if you let it near. he steps away, watches in slow motion as you plaster that lovesick grin on your face as satoru walks in and leans in to kiss you so softly—so carefree, so openly. like you’re his. like you belong to him. like you’ve only ever wanted him.

does satoru even realize? does he even notice the dazed look on your face and the plumpness of your lips? does he even notice the way your breath is short and a little puffy?

“toru what took you so long,” you pinch satoru’s cheek, “i’ve been waiting for you.”

“missed me huh?” satoru wiggles his brows—giddy, he’s always so giddy to be around you, always so happy to have you as his.

satoru is so lucky—and the worst part? he realizes it too. he doesn’t take you for granted, doesn’t ever leave an opening for suguru to take.

“don’t get a big head,” you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slots himself between your legs—right where suguru was just moments ago.

“yeah, satoru,” suguru says before he can help it, staring right into your eyes as he speaks, “don’t have a big head. what if we didn’t miss you?”

“don’t be mean suguru,” satoru pouts, “you always miss me.”

if only he knew, suguru thinks, if only.

OH GOD. I FEEL SO BAD. but i love it 🤭

1K notes · View notes

sister-lucifer · 1 year ago

Text

Genre: Smut

Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest.

Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!

The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:

“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.

Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it.

“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold.

“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation.

“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.”

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it.

“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.”

“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?”

You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t?

You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself.

“How about…a clean fifty?”

And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away.

Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all.

You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours.

As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today.

Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep.

That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember.

You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf.

What were you so scared of?

That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare.

A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon.

However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you.

The glass door of your shelf was open.

Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.

But we all make mistakes, don’t we?

That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident.

When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered.

It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual.

First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself.

As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen.

You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you.

Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner.

You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day.

This was certainly unusual behavior.

That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing.

He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway.

He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to:

You.

What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more.

It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him.

You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance.

Yeah, sure, that made enough sense.

By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded.

At least you had until you stepped through the door.

The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home.

You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.

No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare?

You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch.

You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened.

Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped.

You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut.

Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that.

The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking.

Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock.

You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted.

Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up.

Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—

The shelf is open again.

The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own.

The box has moved on its own.

You were suddenly feeling light headed.

You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.

No such luck.

You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it.

It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security.

“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you.

Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy.

He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up.

He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time.

Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it.

When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe.

For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again.

For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play.

For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either.

The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.

God, they never stopped.

They were almost all the same:

You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you.

Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell.

On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could.

He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one.

Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you.

Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around.

It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough.

But that was okay.

He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it.

That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before?

And why, God—

Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?”

The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.

The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge.

It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it.

It was a hand.

A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box.

A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body.

You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold:

Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.

There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked.

That…thing from your dream was hovering over you.

Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous.

Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down.

Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws.

But that didn’t happen.

No, instead…

It laughed.

The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute.

That was what you were to Jack:

Cute.

But not in the way you’d think.

You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute.

Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute.

Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute.

Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved.

He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement.

“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.

Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue.

It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth.

“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?”

“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice.

He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name.

One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part.

You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—

You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.

When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin.

“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.

“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out.

Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own.

He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth.

“W-Wait—!”

But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers.

“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?”

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…

You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more.

But what choice did you have, really?

Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.

You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs.

“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.

It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human.

His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity.

Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase.

Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you.

You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy.

When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin.

“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“

“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.”

You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.

“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy.

“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.

The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point.

When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task.

“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.”

He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life.

“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult.

“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!”

He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.

“Brutal” was an understatement.

Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach.

Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see.

“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply.

He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you.

Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you.

Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on.

Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears.

He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach.

Oh, you simply had to see this!

He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down.

“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’

“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!”

He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort.

Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death.

Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now.

What the hell is he thinking?!

You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you.

He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock.

And honestly…It wasn’t so bad.

That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one.

“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other.

“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more! What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?”

He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him.

Oh…you liked that.

He was more than happy to keep going.

“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!”

You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement.

“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…”

And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more.

He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.

“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words.

“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.”

His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that.

“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…”

You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts.

“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…”

Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled.

He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done.

You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now.

You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering.

“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh.

Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…

Humans are so strange.

He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin.

“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…”

Oh, fuck.

He wasn’t leaving, was he?

mdni & reblog banners by cafekitsune

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #male reader #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack smut #clown fucker #creepypasta x male reader #laughing jack x male reader #laughing jack x you #creepypasta x reader smut #laughing jack x reader smut #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent

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blairespandora · 6 months ago

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hiiii can i request smth whumpy??? daryl saying “don’t you touch her” not being able to do anything abt reader being held at knife point. maybe she gets a stab or cut on her side.

A/N: Hii angel <33 tysm for your request!! lmk how you like this! 💕

Daryl and Y/n were walking towards Alexandria when suddenly a group of 4 men ambush them, holding Daryl down and grabbing Y/N at knife point;

He was instantly filled with anger and panic with how fast this had gone downhill. His body strained against the people who held him down and he struggled against them trying to reach you.

“Get yer’ damn hands off ‘er! Touch ‘er and I will rip ya’ to pieces, dumbass!”

One of the men that managed to hold you hostage put a knife right under your chin and glared over at Daryl with a sinister smile upon his face.

“Now now…you don’t get to give orders here. If you want this pretty thing to stay alive, you’ll get on your knees… and be a compliant little bitch”.

Daryl stared at the man with murderous rage in his eyes, his breathing became heavy, but he slowly dropped down to his knees. You could see that the man was very satisfied with his current power over the situation, and he was enjoying it.

You were trying to silently communicate with Daryl but the pressure of the cold blade against your chin was making it hard to focus and stay calm.

One of the men who was holding him down leaned down with a mocking tone in his voice and whispered to Daryl,

“Your little lady is a pretty one. Think we should keep her with us.”

Daryl’s face darkened greatly when he said that and let out a snarl. He was starting to get fed up with how smug these guys were. “Fuck YOU” he said through gritted teeth, keeping eye contact with you at all times.

The man holding the knife against your chin chuckled as he slowly began to slide it up your face and press the tip against your cheek. A soft red mark started to form as the tip broke the skin and you let out a small gasp

“If you keep talking like that, I might just have to carve her face up a bit…hmm?”

Daryl clenched his hands tightly into fists and bit his cheek to hold himself back from lashing out against the man. His teeth grinded against each other while he just glared up at the men holding him down,

“If you lay a hand on her I will kill you I swear…”

The men all laughed at that threat and the one holding the knife against you leaned down closer to your ear and spoke in a sinister tone

“I’m gonna like keeping you with me…”

His hand slowly wrapped around your neck and softly squeezed.

Daryl’s rage began to reach its boiling point at the sight of his hand around your neck. He began to struggle against the men and was slowly gaining momentum. His strength overpowered the men holding him down and his hands reached up and grabbed one of their throats.

In the struggle the man who had the knife against your neck ended up dropping it and letting go of you to help the men holding Daryl down. They all managed to finally overpower Daryl again and forced his head down into the dirt. The man holding the knife got back up and glared down at Daryl, his anger showing,

“That was a big mistake redneck…”

The click of the safety going off on the gun could be barely heard as you were quickly able to grab a gun from the guys holding Daryl down and with no hesitation, shot all 4 of them in the head before they could even realise what was going on.

When you stood up and fired the gun Daryl just stared at you in shock as the men’s bodies dropped dead to the ground. His breathing slowed down and he could finally breathe normally again. Before you could completely process what you just did, he leaped up and wrapped you in a tight embrace, his face leaning against the top of your head.

you let out a loud cry, the adrenaline seemed to wear off slightly and realised what you've done "Daryl..." you continued to cry into his shoulder,

He held you tightly against him in a protective embrace, letting you cry on him. He whispered soft reassuring words into your ear as his hand ran softly through your hair.

“T’s okay, you’re okay…they’re all gone now…just you and me…”

When your crying began to die down Daryl gently pulled you back just enough so that he could see your face. His hands gently cupped your face and wiped away the tears from your cheeks, trying his best to soothe you.

“Shh…it’s alright darlin’…just breathe…”

You could feel his hands tense up a bit when he finally noticed the deep gash across your cheek, and you flinched slightly when he gently brushed his thumb against it. The anger was beginning to bubble up again in his chest as he gently wiped away the blood dripping down.

He took a deep breath trying to will himself to stay calm. He gently pushed your hair behind your ears and began gently kissing along the cut to soothe it while whispering quietly to you

“It’s gonna be alright…we’re gonna go back to alexandria and clean this wound up…”

#fanfic #daryl dixon #imagine #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #requests open

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sashi-ya · 4 months ago

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THE JAKDF VANS hibino kafka x f! reader. +18. explicit

⋆ requested by: @southside-otaku Hiya lovey, I saw your slots were filled on the Kn8 event but was wondering if you could open one more for a fem reader and Kafka using a praise kink (it goes both ways and they just praise each other through the whole thing)? Thank you so much for all your writings! ~South ⋆ tw: mdni. explicit smut. oral. car (van :P) sex. nipple sucking. praising both, loving each other so much, expressing their love through sex. ⋆ wc: 2.5K // event masterlist // tagging: @kpopluvr95

A soft smile flies his way. A big smirk reaches you from the other side. With Kafka is always that way; his presence is enough to make you happy.

A chill night has fallen and covered the sky with its dark mantle. Little shiny dots blink on it, as embroidered with silver cosmic thread. Sore muscles, sleepy eyelids; still some energy to rest with your squad comrades.

It’s become a habit of you all, to hang on the hills until dinner time. The little vans of the JAKDF bring you to the top of the hills within the Tachikawa base, and they are often used for your sweaty anti kaiju suits to rest aside. Sometimes, even, allowing you to prepare some food in case you decide to have some little picnic after training. Tonight, however, one of those little vans, will be useful for yet another purpose…

When most of the crew has left for comforting baths and a so needed bed, two of you have decided to stay for a little longer.

“The night looks beautiful…” Kafka says, coming closer to you once the last van except yours have parted.

“Indeed ~” you purr, crawling on him. You’ve been waiting for this, for your frame to be finally surrounded by Kafka’s. You’ve been waiting for your nose to bury on the crook of his neck, and for your palm to slid under his black compression shirt. He got the habit of wearing them from Soshiro, and you are happy he did.

“But not as beautiful as you, (Name)” Kafka continues, laughing like a silly boy right after.

Oh, you dumb, big, huggable, kissable, biteable man…

You nuzzle on him, inhaling the scent of his skin. Delicious traces of manly effort, to become the best, to be a good soldier, reaches your nose. A desperate need to bite invades you, and so you do.

“Nom” you joke, carving your teeth on his flesh.

An instant growl ripped out of his throat came with your biting. His hands squeezing your waist, pulling you closer to him; shortening the distance -if there is any at all- in between your hips and his crotch.

“What a naughty kitty…” he whispers, sliding his hands down your buttocks until your thighs. Seconds after you are lifted up, surrounding his hips with your legs, clamped at him as he helps you not to fall.

“I can’t help it, even sweaty you smell and taste so good, Kafka-kun” you murmur, biting and kissing more and more.

A shiver runs through the Kaiju hybrid; those words… the praising, the love, the adoration he is only used to show, it is now being shown at him, by a woman as beautiful as you, as strong and amazing as you.

Kafka needs you, right now, completely naked, all for him. Feral instinct taking over, that’s not exactly from his Kaiju side, but from his most inner, deep, dark desires.

He turns around with you still in arms and kicks open the back door of the van. Absolutely amazed, you realized he has not only became stronger than before in his human form, but the way he acts right now has nothing to do with his usual funny, cute ways.

“Listen, I know you deserve a king-sized bed with every possible luxury in this world. And I promise you’ll have it, but now, love… allow me to make love to you”

“There is no bigger luxury than being yours, Kafka~”

He sighs, loudly and needy, and your lips seal one with the other’s. A passionate kiss, that’s the type of those being censored on movies, takes over. Tongues dancing, wet playing… so lustful, so needy.

Out of breath, he puts you down for some seconds so that he is able to close the doors of the van. Now, both of you are safe to let your inhibitions go free.

Kafka invites you to sit on the van seats, he is aware there isn’t much space, but it is better than the dusty back used for storage. He sits first on the passenger seat and then extends his arms to help you sit on his lap.

“There we go…” he murmurs, sitting you comfortably on top of his crotch, allowing your core to experience how hard he is.

You squirm a little bit on top of him, making him painfully grunt. The way your leggings graze his trousers must be considered both a torture and a pleasure.

You reach for his face, placing each palm on each of his cheeks. Squeezing just a little you pull him closer to your mouth as you bend to reach for his lips.

“Aren’t you the hottest? Aren’t you the best?” you whisper playfully, allowing that man to breath those words in before attacking your lips.

“That’s just a little bit of everything you are, baby” he answers back, praising everything you are. His goddess; the woman he doesn’t even think of standing right by, but always under to kiss her feet.

Surely and dominantly, he pulls down the zipper of your boiler suit. Obsessed, Kafka smirks; how comes you are wearing nothing underneath? You took the anti-kaiju suit and only slipped inside the coveralls?!

“You like what you see?” you purr, brushing his hair back as you watch him get lost into the turgor of your chest.

“Ngh… more than that, babe… I’m obsessed” he grunts, cupping your breasts into his hands to play with them, to take them to his lips, to squeeze them with precise pressure.

Your muscles tense as he begins sucking on your nipples; little bites on one of them while his fingers pinch the free one.

Every window, every glass surface on that van, gets steamed by the heat of your needy bodies. An extra hint of privacy you both didn’t notice for being so into each other’s bodies.

Your muscles tense, and so your hips do as well. You begin jumping, grazing, going back and forth over Kafka’s lap. Over Kafka’s hardness.

His fingers bury on your thighs and ass, helping you go up and specially down; he wants your sex pushed against his sex, as lust blurs his mind and leads the way.

You can feel the twitching underneath you; how desperately those pants get wet, precum stained, probably a mess. You wonder if it’s difficult for him to tame his inner beast, to stop his wild secret to be revealed, to take over the situation… to make you a victim, to be eaten by the monster he hides inside.

And you are getting eaten, but not exactly but his kaiju side. It is him, his humanity that’s desperate…

“Come here, allow me… ngh” his words cut short by unstoppable moaning coming from your continuous humping.

Kafka wants every piece of clothing off your body; like a butterfly gaining his wings, a metamorphosis to turn you into his nymph… naked, exposed, flesh ready to be ripped, tasted, devoured… no! bitten, softly! Think straight Kafka, this is you… not Number 8.

As the suit gets stuck on your hips, your feral lover lifts you up from his lap and deposits you next to him; it is a blessing those vans have one chunky seat joined for both the driver and the passenger side.

Turned to face him, he finally rips the legs part off. Spread wide opened by his big hands, he finally gets ready to taste your dripping core. Soft moonlight filters through steamed windows, shining silvery reflections on your smeared juices.

“Just… how can you be that perfect, love?” he asks, kissing your inner thigh with more than care; Kafka is moved by pure adoration, by pure devotion.

“I’m desperate for you, Kafka…” you moan, curling a chunk of his black hair in between your fingers.

He comes closer, more and more to your hot core. Inhaling your perfume, already gloating at what he is about to feast on.

Your right heel falls on his waist, as he is bent on the seat, to lift your hip enough for him to be comfortable. And you to be, exactly, on a silver platter.

Kafka slides his index from your clit to your entrance, as his lips purse and fall on your whole core. He sucks; using his tongue while he does to wander the ups and downs of your sexual lands.

Gripped to the steering wheel, your nails carve marks on the leather material as your hips lift even further. His mouth gets glued to your femininity; getting his chin completely messed up with your juices, and probably the tip of his nose as well.

His index, that soon also gets accompanied by his middle finger, are also inside you. Pumping, going in and out, in beckoning motions hitting your inner walls.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna mess the van- you- Kafka you do it so well- ngh…” you moan, pulling his hair to lift his face off your sex.

“Do it; I’ll clean it up” he mutters, cleaning from your arousal elixirs the commissure of his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

You giggle; pulling him to top you completely.

“Shush, I want your dick inside of me…” you whisper, reaching for his now aching, desperate, about to burst bulge. “But first, I’d like to taste it… I’d like to feel the heat of it on my throat”

Detrimental for his mental health, those words were. If he still had some self-control, he had now lost it.

It was enough with your skilful hands to unbuckle the belt holding his pants up; a single swift motion freed him from that clothing jail. Toes to the rim of a completely messed up underwear, also enough to pull it down until strong thighs.

The perfect anatomy this man holds; the slight bump of his belly, so kissable, so deliciously tempting you to fall for deep maternal instincts… because he looks so much like the man you would love to give a child to.

“Let me give you pleasure, love. I – don’-“ he wants to argue, perhaps, on who deserves more than him. But you aren’t allowing it; if there is someone in this world who deserves to be praised and bathed in the most exquisite delights is none but him.

“Shh…” you giggle, surrounding his sex with your palm. There is something special on touching a man from underneath, with pumping motions coming in and out towards you; Kafka’s thighs begin to tremble, muscles spasming as your jerking off delight goes faster, increasing rhythm, increasing pleasure.

Slowly, but surely, you help him to sit back again. His forearm landing on top of his eyes, covering them, while his head gets thrown back.

You keep on pumping, up and down, with a palm coated in precum; with fingers drizzled as well. Kafka’s grunts and moans are like music to your ears, and now the tip of his dick is also a delight for your lips.

A stream of clear arousal forms in between the tip of your tongue and his purplish sex; Kafka’s eyes fix on it as you take some air to get ready to swallow his shaft entirely again.

“Babe… I won’t be able to hold…. Much longer” he grunts, trying to resist the urge to bury your head against his crotch.

Your eyes, teary from the many thrusts against your throat, meet his turquoise ones. Concupiscent look in yours, a frown tinted in depravity; like a demon, like a succubus, inviting that pure heart to sin.

“No, fuck it. Come here” he exclaims, taking the reins back again. He detaches you from his sex, helping you to straddle on top of him once again.

He hugs you, close enough to trap his hardness in between him and against your lower belly. A mess creating on your stomach, anticipating how warm it will feel once deep inside.

“I love you, my goddess” “I love you more, babe”

Almost without even trying and with a simple motion, his tip is already penetrating you. His chin, resting on your chest, right in the middle of your breasts. Pleading, and still dominant, he looks up at you. Your arms, pinned on the small of your back, held by one of his hands.

You begin to move, up and down, desperate. His hips wont let you do all the work by yourself, however. Thrusts destroying your insides, deliciously forcing your walls to spasm and milk his shaft.

Kafka attacks your nipples, out of control fucking you with no mercy. He doesn’t care if half Tachikawa hears your whines. In fact, he actually wants you to scream louder.

“God, you were made for me” he grunts, giving you the last few strikes. He can feel that indeed, your insides, were made for his sex.

You, about to lose control, can barely mumble syllables; Kafka is right, you feel like your insides were made exactly for him…

“Fill me up, love…” “Your wishes are orders, my sweet goddess”

#kafka hibino x reader #hibino kafka x reader #kafka x reader #kaiju no. 8 smut #kaiju no 8 smut #kafka hibino #kafka kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #hibino kafka

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small-sinclair · 3 months ago

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Hi, begging for a part 2 of the Johnny Slaughter a/b/o fic please

His Mate

The first part

A/b/o!Johnny Sawyer x humanfem!reader

Let me know if you want a part three!

Tw: blood, mention of death and gore, not proofread

Johnny looks at you up and down, his eyes wavering between anger, disbelief, and admiration. He was mad that you were human. He couldn’t believe you were human and fated to him! But your beauty and the way your body curved the way it did… Johnny wanted to bury his nose into your skin and drown in your blood and scent. He would see it as a blessing and a grateful death.

Then the thought of you being human came back and he hated himself more. He didn’t want you to be human and have his mate be weak and vulnerable! He’s the strongest one in his family and proved it to other packs around his home; you’ll only bring down his status. He could hate you for that and kill you—

“No,” he whispers, backing away as a vision came to his mind. He saw you writhing in pain as his claws ripped your stomach out. He could feel how warm your blood would be and how tangy it smelt. “No, I won’t,” he says more to himself under his breath.

Seeing you in the golden light as the sun set over the sunflowers only broke him even more. How could he hurt you?

Confused your hands reach out towards him before pulling them away after watching him physically flinch. He could hurt you in every way that matters but he couldn’t do it. He only gets one mate. He only gets one true love and it’s you. It had to be you.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you hugged your arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shakes his head. “No, no, don’t apologize. Not to me,” he sounded so sincere. He stood in front of you once more and rested his head on top of your hair, breathing in the sweet roses from your body. It sent chills down his spine and made his bones curled and crave for your name to be carved into them. “Don’t apologize to me, darlin’.”

He was warm against your body and held you as if you were an egg. You could hear his heartbeat and see how he was taking slow and deep breaths. “What’s your name?”

“Johnny,” he answers, his arms wrapping around your waist and the back of your head. “I’m Johnny.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and protection as he shielded you from the killings outside. “I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful human.” He held you tighter as he heard Nubbins trap go off and the sound of Sissy’s laughter. He didn’t want to meet you like this. Not here.

“So, you’re a werewolf?” You asked as you felt his arms tense. Through his shirt, you could feel claw marks and slashes, faded bite marks and stab wounds.

He nodded as he kisses your head, his lips lingering for a moment. He closed his eyes as he felt his claws growing. Someone in his family was coming near his home, near you. His dark eyes glared at the entrance and a primal growl ripped through his body. He didn’t have to answer your question as you watched small patches of black and brown fur grow on his arms and hear his bones breaking.

“Johnny—?”

He held you tight as he began his transformation, his claws ripping the back of your jacket. His fur was thick and you could smell a mixture of soil and death on his skin. A large black tail wrapped around your back as his body swallowed you in his hold. He was looking at something, growling at someone, but you didn’t know what or who.

But he knew all too well.

Nancy stood in his little living with her knife as she looked both horrified and annoyed at him. Her eyes looked between him and the back of your head. She wasn’t a fool; she knew you were his mate and hated it. She didn’t want to lose Johnny to you or be seen with a human. Maybe it was the fear of losing him to you to hunters that made her want to kill you herself, but you ran and Johnny found you first. And, from where she was standing, he already worshipped your body and scent by the way he covered himself around you.

His black eyes narrowed at the knife in her hands and snapped his jaw at her, baring his teeth as a warning. The snarl the grew from the back of his throat only rumbled through your skin and core. It was as if he was claiming you as his own even before he could mark you.

Nancy shook her head and backed away, anger burning in her eyes like a wild fire. “You’re a damn fool, Johnny. Y’all bring down this pack with that she-devil.”

He held you even tighter as he snarled once more, growling deeper through his teeth, daring her to come closer. He wasn’t in his true form but he’ll change just to prove his point not to question him. He still had his human features, but his claws and bits of fur showed along with his tail. He felt his ears for and changing, and he felt his back breaking and building as if he was going to be a full wolf, to be a full beast. He’ll do that just to prove you’re his mate, his little omega human.

His thoughts bursted when he heard you gasp softly. As he looked down, he saw his claws digging into your back. He fell with you on your knees on the floor. Nancy smirked and let out a dry laugh. “You’ll kill her, boy. I’ll bet that.”

His eyes snapped back at her and said in a dark tone, “Get out.”

“Admit I’m right.”

“I said get out!” He roared, his fangs growing longer until he felt his face changing into a wolf’s, a beast. “Get!” He brought down his fist to the wooden floor, breaking the wood as if it was nothing, and earned a frightened flinch from Nancy.

Without another word, Nancy turns and leaves. She could feel how her own claws were growing and digging to into her own hand. One thing for certain is that she will have you dead before the next full moon, before he could even claim you as his own.

With her gone, Johnny had you sitting on his lap as she cradled you, rocking back and forth, and his face returning to normal. His black eyes locked into yours and he felt as if he was about to break. You had tears falling; he made you cry.

“I’m so sorry,” he said with regret in his words. He leaned down and kisses your tears away. “I didn’t mean to hurtcha.” He rested his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.”

Your hand rests on his cheek and he melts at the touch, nearly breaking at your fingertips. He shudders as he smelt the roses again and a hint of honey and lavender, but he loved how soft your skin was.

“Johnny?” You asked, your voice bringing him back. “Will you be alright?”

For the first time, he didn’t know the answer. But he takes a deep breath and kisses your palm. “Should be,” he answers lowly, kissing your wrist then knuckles. “Let me clean your wound, please? Let me make it up to ya.” His black eyes faded to a deep, rich brown as he looked down into yours. “Promise, little mate, I’ll take care of you.”

Something inside you trusted him even though you should be running from him. Everything felt a bit unorthodox and rushed like some fairy tale, but what other choose do you have? He could kill you like he did to your friends or that woman could do it for him. Main reason to stay was that he was a good kisser, so you have that going for you.

You nodded your head slightly as he leaned into your hand. He looked kind of cute and comfortable once more in your presence. Just having you there was enough to reassure him that he was a good man, a good alpha worthy of love even if you’re a human.

He’ll prove to you he’s worthy of your love. You are his mate, his love, his omega. Let him love you the way he never has.

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mayonnaise2004 · 4 months ago

Text

Meeting & Dating Patrick Hockstetter Headcannons

(This is one of my darker works, so I apologize in advance for letting my creative mind go.)

(TW for mentions of suicide, Patrick just being fucked up, masochism, intentions of a dog dying :((, slut shaming, manipulation, carving of the skin and let me know if I missed any.)

- The two of you met when you were Henry’s s/o. He wasn’t at all a fan of that.

- the mere thought of someone like you with someone like Henry made him want to rip his hair out. So he took it upon himself to save you.

- It took a lot of paying people, rumours being spread and innocent acts to get Henry to break up with you on the note you had ‘cheated on him with a freshman.’

- He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him a little bit aroused when you came sobbing to him, tears running down your face as you tried to understand who would do something like this.

- Rubbed your back as you cried into his chest, his innocent facade was.. somewhat comforting, you couldn’t go to any other kids. They’d just call you a ‘slut/whore’ and walk away.

- He knew you would be easy to manipulate like this. He could be your goddamn knight in shining armour! :)

- Came to your house every day after school to make sure ‘you were okay’ (and eyed up your dog.)

- He was there for you when Henry bullied you when you replaced poor Beverly Marsh on the so-called ‘practice girl’ list, when your dog went missing.

- So of course you said yes to a date! How bad could he be? He seems to have calmed down! (Stupid you.)

- Don’t expect to ever be in another relationship in Derry. That person will go through hell on earth and back. This goes for him too. He would rather take his own life than be without you.

- Life goes back to normal in the Bowers gang. Patrick freaks Victor and Belch out a bit, and Henry doesn’t care that you're dating his best friend. He still holds a grudge against you of course. So don’t expect to leave hangouts without a few bruises.

- Fear is a big factor in your relationship, the hairspray & lighter come out sometimes. But he would never use it on you. Burns are such a waste of time.

- Watching horror movies at his place while his parents are at the bar. He always keeps a hand on your jaw to keep your head to the screen (and caresses your jawline with his thumb.)

- Swimming in the lake at night

- Sometimes he can be somewhat normal when he puts the switchblade and diy flamethrower away and lays in bed with you.

- He probably carved something to do with himself into your flesh where everyone can see. Whether that be ‘P.H’ with a heart, or just ‘P’; “What’s with the tears? Hm? Look at your wrist, my love. Now you can’t run away.”

- Birthdays are overnighters at your place. You’ll either receive a switchblade or a piece of his jewelry everyone has seen that you complimented.

- quite a fan of PDA, loves to hold you close and whisper things into your ear knowing you can’t run away.

- ‘I would just break up with him’ you’ve tried. So many times. He always threatens you in some way, and being on Officer Bower's good terms he can get away with it.

- “You want to end up like all those people? Missing and forgotten by the world? I keep you safe baby. Remember that.”

- Being with someone like that takes a toll on your mental health. Your parents want you to break up with him but you just can’t.

- Mumbles praise into your skin while you cuddle

- Summer break is terrible for you, being forced to drive around with the Bowers gang feels like a punishment from god.

- But despite your attempts to run away, he loves you. Even if you're a bit difficult sometimes!

- The summer of 1989 was like a boulder being lifted off your shoulders. You didn’t know how to feel about Patrick going missing. Should you look for him? Or let him rot where he belongs after everything he did to you.

- his missing posters were eventually covered up with another, and you tried to heal. But those scars don’t heal. And they won’t go away.

#it 2017 #patrick hockstetter #patrick hocksetter x reader #TW #it 2017 x reader #it 1990 #it 2019 #it 2016

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xobrattymoonxo · 1 year ago

Text

Kenma, Akaashi, Kuroo and Bokuto x Reader

TW: Non con, fisting, anal, double penetration (Front and back), knife play, blood, carving into skin, If i missed anything please let me know!

AN: Unedited for the most part. Sorry It's been a while guys! I was writing a jjk fic but then I just thought of this and wanted to write it dhbvshdv

Word count: 3.8K

Y/n ran through the house slipping on the rug. She tripped a little but was able to gain her footing again as she ran once more. She saw the door in her vision as she picked up her pace. As she was unlocking all the locks, she was pulled back by her left shoulder. She was slammed into the ground as the man laughed.

“You can’t outrun me.” He said with a devious smirk.

Y/n’s first reaction was to start screaming. The man with black and blonde hair covered her mouth. Y/n instantly bit down hard on his hand drawing blood.

“Ow you bitch!” He yelled.

“Kenma, are you okay?

“No, that stupid bitch bit me!” He yelled at the black haired man.

“Fuck.” The black haired man sees Y/n getting up and rushing for the front door. “Y/n, if you know what’s good for you you will stop right now.” He said in a stern voice.

“It’s too late to give up now, Akaashi!” She yelled as she began to unlock the seven locks on the door. Akaashi rushed to her side as she turned with all her force and punched him in the nose. He fell backwards with a bloody nose/. Kenma rushed up to her other side as she used a swift kick to hit him in the balls.

“Fuck!” He yelled as he fell down holding his crotch.

Y/n unlocked the last lock as she ripped the door open. She began to run down the long driveway of the private house on the outskirts of Tokyo. Around the house was nothing but trees, but she figured if she ran through the forest she would be safe from Kuroo and Bokuto, who were probably on their way home.

Y/n started to run through the forest as she heard a car pull in the driveway. She turned back to see Bokuto rush to the front door. Akaashi was standing on the porch holding his nose as he pointed to the forest where Y/n was.

She turned as fast as she could on her feet and ran for her life. She knew if she went back to the house, she’d be screwed, maybe even dead.

It wasn’t long after Bokuto had begun his hunt, like she was a deer and he was the hungry mountain lion. He ran at full speed as she kept running.

It wasn’t always like this, Y/n actually used to work at the 24 hour convenience store. Kenma had come into her store many times to buy energy drinks around 2 or 3 am. It was just Kenma at first, harmless soft Kenma. Until he started to bring in his friend, Kuroo. Kuroo started to stalk Y/n, figuring out she was a university student at Tokyo U. Their friend Akaashi happened to go there as well. He started off casually following her around for Kenma… and then for Kuroo. He then began to take photos, stalking her more intensely. He learned her schedule, he learned everything about her and he claimed it was all for them.

One Friday night, Kenma went into the convenience store with Kuroo.

“Hey Y/n.” He said monotone as usual. “I am having a party this weekend at my place. Figured I’d invite you since I always see you around.”

“When is it? I most likely will be working so I probably won’t be abe to make it.” She said upset.

“Monday.”

“Oh, I have classes on Tuesdays, I shouldn’t.”

“C’mon Y/n!” Kuroo said, “Have some fun! We always see you here. You must not even sleep at this point.”

“I sleep a couple hours after I get off at 6.” She laughed. “But maybe.”

“Say you’ll come, please?” Kenma asked.

She couldn’t resist Kenma.

“Okay… What time should I get there?”

“8pm, Oak Tree Rd, 175. See you next week, beautiful.” Kuroo smiled at her.

She smiled as the two walked out the front door.

Timeskip to Monday….

Y/n grabbed her bag and checked herself in the mirror again. She smiled as she looked at her black clubbing dress. She never had a chance to wear it as she always worked.

Y/n began to walk outside to her apartment lobby. She looked at the time and saw it was 7:24pm. She began to walk. The party was only 34 minutes away, ust on the other side of her work.

Y/n arrived at a house, there was no noise coming from the house. She walked up to the door really slowly. She knocked on the front door.

“Hey Beautiful! You made it!” Kuroo said as he opened the door.

“Um… I thought it was a party.” She tried covering up her chest a bit.

“It actually starts at 9:30pm. We just wanted you to meet our close friends first.” Kuroo said.

“Oh makes sense I guess.” She murmured.

“Come in.” Kuroo stepped aside for Y/n to walk inside. She looked around the mansion astonished. “Nice, huh?”

“Hey Y/n.” Kenma said. “Glad you could make it.”

“Hi Kenma.” She looked around the large room with 3 couches in it. There was a large projector style tv on the wall.

“Hi I am Bokuto!” A man with silver and black roots said.

“Hey, I am Akaashi.” The black haired man said from behind Bokuto.

“These are our best friends.” Kuroo said.

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Y/n.” She said.

“Come have a seat.” Bokuto motions her in between him and Akaashi.

“So tell us about yourself, Y/n.”Akaashi smiled.

“I go to Tokyo U. I work at a convenience store. I met Kenma and Kuroo from said convenience store. That’s about it.” She said with a nervous laugh.

“You go to Tokyo U? I do as well.” Akaashi pretended not to know.

“Oh what do you study?” Y/n asked.

“Editing and creative writing.” Akaashi said. “And you?”

“I’m in med school. Hoping to be a Neurologist one day.”

“Wow you must really never sleep then.” Kuroo said.

“I study and do homework at work.” She laughed.

“Impressive.” Kenma said.

“How about you three?” Y/n asked the rest of the guys in the room.

“I’m a professional Volleyball player for MSBY.” Bokuto spoke up.

“I work for the Japan Volleyball Association in the sports promotion division.” Kuroo added.

“I’m the CEO of my own company and a streamer.” Kenma said.

“Oh wow.” Y/n said.

Just then the doorbell rang.

“Looks like the party arrived early.” Kuroo said as he walked out of the room.

Y/n stood up and walked to the kitchen to get a drink.

“Hey sexy, did it hurt?” A man said from behind Y/n.

“If you ask if it hurt when I fell from Heaven, I’ll scream right now.” She said, The guy laughed.

“I’m Atsumu. What’s yer name, Angel?”

“Please leave our guest alone, Atsumu. She’s not looking for you to dick her down, I promise.” Kuroo said from behind Y/n.

Y/n sighed in relief as she turned around. Kuroo passed her a red solo cup full of Vodka. She took one sip and made a face at him.

“What is this? It’s disgusting.” She said as Kuroo laughed as he took it back and chugged down the cup's contents.

“Let’s make you something mixed then.” Atsumu rolled his eyes as he walked away from the two. Bokuto came into the kitchen and bumped into Y/n making her turn as Kuroo slipped something into her drink. He dumped coke on top of the rum in her cup and passed it back to her. The pill vanished into nothing as she took her first sip. Kuroo looked at Bokuto with a wink as he walked away. In 15 to 20 minutes their plan would take course.

The two talked as Akaashi came up to them. Some time passed as Kuroo checked his watch.

“Hey guys, I am not feeling too hot. Do you know what time it is?” Y/n asked, feeling herself fade out of consciousness.

“It’s 10:30 pm, Y/n.”

Y/n blinked and suddenly she was on the balcony with Bokuto’s hands on her waist.

“Wha-what time is it?” She slurred, reaching up to grab her head in hopes to calm her throbbing headache.

“1:45am baby, why?”

“What?” She felt herself grow dizzy as she fell into Bokuto’s chest.

“Are you okay? I should take you home. Sit for a second let me get some water.” He placed her down on a chair as he walked back into the room. He texted the others “Code red.”

He slipped two roofies from his pocket and into the bottle of water. He took one sip before doing so so it wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Here Y/n.” He passed her the water bottle as she began to chug it back. “Let’s just wait here a few minutes so the world stops spinning for you.”

She gave him a thumbs up as she continued to drink. The more she drank the dizzier she felt.

“Bo….I don’t- I don’t feel good at all.” She tried to stand up as she fell into his chest once again. “Help me.” She whispered as she felt her eyes grow heavy and her body go limp.

Bokuto smiled at the limp drugged up body in his arms as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He placed her on the bed carefully. Kuroo busted open the door and looked at the scene before him.

“Thank god, What was code red about?” He asked Bokuto.

“She became conscious again. I gave her a couple more roofies and knocked her out.”

“Well she’s going to feel like shit when she wakes up.” Akkashi said from behind Kuroo. “Kenma is clearing out the party now.” “Good, that means it will be easier for us to get her out.”

“How are we doing that again?” Bokuto asked.

“Kenma got me to park in the garage so we could throw her in the trunk.” Kuroo said.

“Okay. Let me go be our eyes and ears downstairs.” Akaashi said as he left.

Bokuto looked at the unconscious Y/n on the bed and smiled.

“She’s almost ours, Kuroo.” Bokuto said with a smile.

“She is, Bo.”

A few minutes later Akaashi walked back into the room.

“All clear.” Akaashi said to the guys. Bokuto lifted her unconscious body off the bed. He began to carry her bridal style down the stairs.

Bokuto walked into the garage as Kuroo popped open the trunk. He lightly places Y/n’s unconscious body in the trunk.

“Let’s head out. It’s a long drive to the cabin.” Kenma said from the door behind them.

Bokuto and Akaashi got into the back seat. The four headed out.

It wasn’t too long before Bokuto began to get antsy.

“Are we almost there? I want to be there! How much longer?” Bokuto’s legs started to shake.

“Bokuto-san, we will get there soon, don’t worry.” Akaashi said as he put a hand on his knee.

“I want to hold her though.” Bokuto huffed.

“How much longer, Kenma?” Akaashi asked.

“About 20 minutes.” Kenma said.

“Awww but I want to be there now!” Bokuto whined again.

"Bo, how are you this excited for someone you haven’t met before tonight?” Kuroo asked with a laugh.

“Kaashi has told me all about her, he shows me her pictures too. Sometimes he shows me the videos he takes for you guys. She is so pretty and beautiful and she's just so perfect for us!”

“Seems like someones in love.” Kuroo laughed again.

The car was full of Bokuto and Kuroo talking about their favorite things about Y/n.

Kuroo pulled up into the parking lot of a two story house surrounded by trees. Bokuto practically jumped out of the car. He ripped open the trunk to see a still passed out Y/n laying there surrounded by pillows.

Bokuto lifted up her unconscious body and carried her to the door where Kenma was unlocking it.

“There's a door to the basement in the pantry.” Kenma said as he motioned for them to go inside….

Y/n woke up with a splitting headache. She couldn’t remember much from the party, or how she even got home. She went to move her hands to rub her eyes, but something was restricting her hands. She looked up and saw her hands tied to the above bed post. She began to feel her heart beat increase, she pulled down on her arms and began to panic.

“She's awake!” A voice yelled from across the room.

“Perfect.”

“What’s going on?” Y/n asked, confused. “Where am I? Who are you?” Her voice began to shake.

“Y/n! It’s just us!” Bokuto exclaimed. “You’re safe here, okay?” Bokuto sat on the side of the bed. He placed his hands on her bare stomach.

“Where are my clothes?!?” Y/n was freaking out as she noticed she was only in her lingerie.

“Your dress was so tight, we thought we’d let your body breathe baby.” Kuroo said from behind Bokuto.

Kenma walked in the room with Akaashi as Y/n tried to pull away from Bokuto’s hands.

Bokuto’s hands trailed up Y/n’s side.

“Baby, don’t pull away.” Bokuto said.

Kuroo reached around Bokuto and started to untie Y/n’s hands.

Y/n was quick to pull away from Bokuto and pulled her knees into her as she braced herself into the Headboard against the wall.

“Baby, don’t back away.” Bokuto sighed as his hair deflated. He reached his hand out to touch her again.

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed.

Bokuto was taken aback by her shouting. He looked at Akaashi.

“Y/n, I know you’re scared, but there's no need to shout at us.” Akaashi said calmly. He moved over to the edge of the bed and reached for her.

Y/n slapped Akaashi’s hand away.

“I said don’t touch me!” She screamed again.

Akaashi looked back at Kuroo and Kenma. Kuroo pushed past the two of them and grabbed Y/n by the ankles. He pulled her down the bed. She began kicking and screaming as Kuroo raised his hand to slap her across the face. She reached up and grabbed her cheek as she cried.

“You are going to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” Kuroo said.

He was quick to place his hand on her throat as he began to apply pressure. She reached up and tried to pry Kuroo’s big hands off her throat.

“Kuroo, careful.” Kenma warned.

“She’s being an ungrateful bitch.” He spat back. He ripped down her underwear as he shoved two fingers inside of her pussy.

“Kuroo! I wanted to be the first one to fuck her.” Bokuto whined.

“Then get over here before I change my mind.” Kuroo said.

4 ½ months later…

That's how they got into their current situation, y/n running for her life through the woods in nothing but Bokuto’s shirt and underwear.

Y/n was giving everything she had into running away. She heard footsteps catching up to her. She tried her best to speed up as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She was pulled back and thrown to the ground.

“Fuck! Let me go!” She screamed.

“Baby, calm down! You’re just confused.” Bokuto’s voice cooed at her. He picked her up as Kuroo arrived at the scene.

“Stupid bitch thought she could escape.” Kuroo laughed. “Here.” He passed Bokuto a pair of Handcuffs.

“No please! No! I just want to go home!” Y/n cried.

“You were home.” Kuroo snapped.

Bokuto and Kuroo fought and put the handcuffs on Y/n’s wrists. She was crying and thrashing her wrists as Bokuto carried her back bridal style.

“Bring her back down stairs. I have a surprise for her.” Kenma said manically.

“On it.” Kuroo said as he led Bokuto through the house.

Akaashi went behind them and began to lock up the front door again. Kenma walked past him and into the kitchen and grabbed a large knife.

“Woah what’s that for Kenma?” Akaashi asked.

“You’ll see.” He smiled a devilish smile.

The two walked down the stairs where Bokuto and Kuroo had tied Y/n down to the bed.

“Kuroo.” Kenma spoke. “Do you want to go first?” He asked, holding out the knife.

“You deserve it. She did bite you after all.” Kuroo said. Bokuto just finished tying a rag in her mouth.

Kenma grabbed the shirt on her as he sliced it off in one quick motion. He was quick to repeat the process to her underwear too.

“Woah Kenma, careful you don’t cut her.” Bokuto said.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kenma smirked once again.

Kenma pressed the tip of the knife into her soft thigh. He began to apply pressure as Y/n began to cry harder. Kuroo grabbed hold of her ankles as she tried to kick him off.

Kenma pressed hard into her skin as he carved two letter K’s into her left thigh. He passed the knife over to Akaashi. Akaashi smiled as he pressed the knife down into her right thigh. He carved out AK before passing it to Kuroo. Akaashi and Kenma held down one leg each. Kuroo took his own sweet time to carve on the left side KT. He passed over the knife to Bokuto who looked a little uneasy.

“Cmon Bo, you can do it.” Kuroo encouraged him.

“It’s hurting her though.” Bokuto said all sad.

“She hurt us Bo, she tried to leave us. We gave her everything and she repays us by leaving? This is just a reminder to her she's ours.” Kuroo said.

Bokuto smiled as he looked down at her right thigh. He carved out a BK as he smiled. The blood was running down her leg. Bokuto tossed the knife aside as he pulled his shirt off.

“Seeing her like this…. Is making me feel some way…” He said with a devious smirk.

Bokuto began to get naked in front of the other guys as Kuroo laughed.

“Looks like Bo got turned on after all.” Kuroo said.

Kuroo took his shirt off as Akaashi placed his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asked him.

“There’s enough room for all of us after all, remember?”

Kenma smiled as he began to strip down too. Akaashi didn’t take long to follow through.

The guys all turned to face Bokuto as they heard a loud muffled groan leave Y/n’s mouth. Bokuto had shoved himself inside Y/n’s pussy dry. He began to frantically pump inside her.

“Woah Bokuto, wait for us will you?” Akaashi said with a laugh. “Who’s taking what?”

“I call dibs on her mouth.” Kenma said as he climbed onto the bed.

“I’ll take her ass if you are okay to share with Bokuto this time Kasshi?” Kuroo asked.

Akaashi nodded as he Approached the bed.

“Bo, can you turn her on her side. I want to make space in her tight little asshole for me.” Kuroo smiled.

Bokuto smiled back as he moved her on her side. Kuroo grabbed the lube from the bedside table. He opened it up and dropped a few drops on Y/n’s tiny butthole. He began to rub it in slowly as she begged for them to stop.

“Kenma, shut her up before I do.” Akaashi said.

Kenma laughed as he climbed to the top of the bed. Bokuto pulled her down a bit as Kenma got above her.

“You bite me now, I’ll slice you up. Got it?” She shook her head in agreement. Kenma quickly shoved his member down her throat. He grabbed the back of her head and forced her to take all of him. It was Akaashi’s turn to join the fun. He put lube on his member as he lined it up next to Bokuto’s. Y/n was unable to do anything as her hands were still tied up. Kuroo now had 3 fingers shoved up Y/n’s asshole.

“Bokuto, can you shift a little. I want to join you inside so we can all cum together.” Akaashi said.

As Akaashi was forcing himself inside as Kuroo pulled his fingers out. Kuroo opened up the bottle of lube again and dumped it all over his hand. Kuroo smiled to himself as he slowly started to work his large fist into Y/n. She cried out as Kuroo and Akaashi fully pushed in at the same time.

“Fuck! Do that again.” Kenma moaned as she gasped and moaned out around his cock.

Kuroo laughed as he pulled his hand almost all the way out, then quickly slammed it in at full speed once again.

“Yeah fuck just like that.” Kenma moaned.

“Fuck!” Bokuto and Akaashi yelled in sync.

“Feels good huh?” He smirked.

“Keep going,”Bokuto said. “She’s getting tighter with every thrust.”

The two in her pussy picked up the pace as Kuroo remained fisting her ass.

“I’m close.” Akaashi moaned.

“Fuck me too.” Kenma said.

“Just cum inside her. I’ll buy some plan B tomorrow.” Kuroo said.

Just like that, Akaashi and Bokuto shot hot ropes of cum inside Y/n. Kenma wasn’t too far behind as lets his hot load out down her throat.

Kuroo pulled his fist out as he replaced it with his cock.

“Fuck, she’s so stretched out.” He said.

“I want to try fisting her too!” Bokuto whined.

“Take her pussy. Her ass is mine.” Kuroo said.

Bokuto looked down at her cum dripping pussy. He shrugged his shoulders as he began to force his massive fist inside her.

“Stop! Please! It hurts!” She cried out.

“You deserve this. This isn’t for your pleasure, it’s for ours.” He said as his fist slowly slipped all the way inside.

Kuroo groaned out as he felt Bokuto’s fist through the thin wall.

“Fuck Bo, I can feel you on the otherside.” Kuroo moaned.

“I can see my fist in her stomach!” Bokuto exclaimed excitedly.

Kuroo was quick to release hot strings of cum inside her ass.

“Fuck that was to good.” Kuroo breathed out.

Y/n laid there crying silently as she begged for it to be over.

“Well that’s not fair to Kenma or Akaashi, now is it?” Kuroo smirked.

“Please- please no.”

“Cmon, let’s not play favorites, okay?” Bokuto said.

Akaashi grabbed the lube as he lined up to her front entrance and Kenma at the back entrance.

Y/n was screaming in pain as the two who had finished sat back and watched.

It wasn’t until hours later they all stopped. Constantly fucking her between their fists and their cocks. She was laying there, completely fucked out when they finally stopped. She was covered in cum and it was dripping from all three of her holes. There was even some blood in other places then her thighs.

“Let’s get washed up. Let her rest for a little bit.” Akaashi said.

“We shouldn’t leave her out. I don’t trust her on her own anymore.” Kenma added.

“Bring the dog carrier.” Kuroo said.

#tw dark fic #tw noncon #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu dark content #haikyuu noncon #haikyuu yandere #kenma smut #kuroo smut #bokuto smut #akaashi smut

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monalaniussboyfriend · 15 days ago

Note

Mona domestic relationship headcannons? Make them as realistic as possible

YES OMG YES OMSSSLSPLS

MONA LANIUS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS AHH

warning; organ mention, kidnapping, stalking, violence, general Mona creepiness

Definitely stalked you for a while before kidnapping you. (Watches you through your windows, breaks into your house while you're not home.

Memorized your schedule. She follows you around unknowingly, whether it be climbing in trees or watching through the bushes, she's always watching.)

Occasionally wore normal clothes and a scarf and hat to cover her face, and she purposefully bumped into you to get your attention, even if it's not positive. She just needs your attention. She thrives off of it

She kept a journal writing about how absolutely obsessed she is. She writes about the many ways she could kidnap you, along with your whole schedule to see when and where your vulnerable spots are.

When she eventually does kidnap you, she tries to contain herself from killing you out of pure excitement.

Keeps you in a cage and calls you sweet little petnames (No, literally.)

Almost never lets you out of the cage. She occasionally leaves it unlocked while you're under her supervision and she WILL attack you if you try to escape. (She loves you too much to kill you.)

Calls you her "pretty bird" because she's defo a crazy bird woman <3

She barely sleeps, but when she does, she sleeps during the day. (She does most of her killing at night)

If she senses you're awake while she's home, she'll coo at you like a child at the zoo. She’s always telling you how pretty you are in her captivity.

Sometimes (Always) watches you while you sleep. She thinks its adorable seeing how helpless and vulnerable you are.

Whenever she's out doing her thing, she almost always brings you a gift. She brings you anything she herself sees as romantic, that being human organs or dead animals. (Her favorite is the organ to bring is the heart as it symbolizes her love for you<3)

She paints portraits of you, not in a "I'm gonna murder you" way, but more of an admiration/obsession. She did this before kidnapping you as well, which is what sorta shocked you when you seen the huge canvas with your face on it above her mattress.

She painted a portrait of your body ripped open, using the blood that you lost during your kidnapping.

When she's on the prowl, she's actively finding small things to give you. She occasionally gives you the jewelry she finds while breaking and entering and makes you wear it. (You have no choice.) (+10 love points if you willingly wear them<3)

Can and WILL carve her name into you in a very very visible spot. She always goes on about how she wants everyone to know that you're hers. (Even though she never lets you go out whatsoever)

Keeps your blood in a vial and hangs it from a necklace, she feels homesick without it.

If you're lost in your delusions enough, she'll let you out of the cage while she's not home because she knows you wont leave. She knows you're bound together.

She'll let you sleep next to her and she'll absolutely smother you. She’s scared you’ll leave her or someone or something will take you away from her.

She practically forced you to become a cannibal, mainly because she doesn’t really eat real food. She makes you eat human remains as she does, but she cooks them as you like it.

Teaches you how to paint, as you often help her paint her victims.

She hums random made up tunes when she cuddles you to sleep, along with when she takes care of you.

Loves brushing your hair and giving you sponge baths. She loves cleaning you and keeping you close to her.

Loves any sort of attention you give her. She thrives off of your attention.

Her #1 favorite compliment of yours is beautiful. She loves being called beautiful, especially since she grew up being called ugly and disgusting.

OK I NEED TO SHUT UP OR I WONT STOP AUGH 😓

#urbanspook #the painter #mona lanius x reader #mona lanius #urbanslug #self insert #selfship

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house-of-slayterr · 6 months ago

Text

A little obvious, but Villains I think would be into Knife/Sharps Play:

Let’s start this list of properly…

Mary:

Mary loves surgical play, she’s the doctor and you’re her helpless little patient. Sometimes she uses laughing gas before you start, help you get the feeling that your life is truly in her hands. But she won’t hurt you too bad, she would never damage her perfect little doll. Just be prepared to have her name carved into the body part of your choosing.

Amanda Young:

Amanda is another obvious choice. She loves to remind you of the power she holds over you. Remind you of who’s in charge. Her favourite thing to do is put you in escapable traps and give you little quizzes on your relationship as part of your test. Just simple flesh wounds are you payment if you ever get the answers wrong. She likes to save the deeper cuts for face to face time. She loves the feeling of you skin, under her blade, between her teeth. Anyway she can mark you, she’ll have the world knowing who you belong to.

Herbert West:

Now Dr West, he hardly has time for sex. Most of his focus is on his experiments. But the way you can lure him out of that dingy basement is by becoming his latest experiment. He loves to dissect you, metaphorically and literally specking. He’d probably rip open your chest to see your heart if it didn’t mean loosing you. And reanimation was plan B for you, he preferred you still fully loving. But he loves to stick you with needles, sometimes to draw blood he saves in his little shrine to you, or to give you something that will help you more into the mood. All with your consent of course, but he loves it when you’re heads in the clouds. He loves to quiz you during it, and every answer you get wrong is another delicately carved Mark on your skin.

Anton Chigurh:

Anton loves to watch you squirm. He thinks the sounds you make are delightful when you whimper away from the sharp blade. He’ll use diffent techniques. They do leave permanent marks, but nothing too difficult to hide. He likes to see how far you’ll let him go before he draws back. He loves the psychological aspect almost a bit more. Explaining to you what his weapons have done to other people, yet giving the reasons why he’d never do that to you. He finds explaining his work to be intimate, showing you a side of him only ghosts have ever seen.

Billy & Stu:

These two come as a package deal, and they love when you play helpless victim. Billy is more directly into the knife aspect, he loves tracing shapes on your skin, might even let you do it back to him if he’s in a particularly good mood. But Stu is into the blood. Nothing could stop his horny brain from thinking about you and Billy covered in blood, doesn’t care if it’s your own or someone else’s. He likes to play with it, and he’ll get upset if you try to clean yourself off too soon. He has hundreds of Polaroids of you and Billy.

Otis Driftwood:

Admittedly, Otis thinks you’re a god damn work of art. And any good artist wants to leave their mark on their most prized piece. His initials are carved on both your thighs, through less than delicate work, because he wants any man who dare try to get that far with you, know exactly who you belong to. And know that he will find them. The only place he won’t use his knife is on your pretty face. He likes delicate and soft the skin is there and doesn’t want to shatter the effect of your dolll like beauty.

Baby Firefly:

Baby is just as depraved as Otis. Her version of foreplay is letting you play helpless victim. She loves to chase you, scare you, make you bleed rubies just for her. She loves holding it against your neck while she whispers sweet nothings in your ear. She loves the smell of the adrenaline coming off your skin when she has you willing and complaint for her. She probably gives the best aftercare as well. Taking her time to clean and patch you up so she gets to play nurse.

Patrick Bateman:

This main only gets off if someone else’s pain is involved. You’re barely any safer with him than anyone else would be. The one thing keeping your pretty little heart beating, in his eyes, is that he owns you. And Patrick takes care of his property. You’re part of his routine, coming home after a long day, just to leave a new mark on you while he fucks you into oblivion. He loves to trace and lick at your scars, and remind you that he lacks those imperfections he’s given you. He’s in control and he’ll be sure you and everyone else knows that.

An: that’s all I got for now but I have been feeling a little mentally better about trying to write again. It’s not nearly as scary as it has been for months. Things are slowly getting better.

Tag: @oceansrose2002 @kados-of-chaos @mothmans-kingdom @myers-meadow

#slashers #villains #knifeplay #knife kink #headcannons #Amanda Young #American Mary #anton chigurh #Stu Macher #billy loomis #otis driftwood #baby firefly

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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

Text

Demon!Azriel x reader: Teeth and Talons - Part 9[***]

A/N: idk even know what to say about this one. I think I traumatise myself a little more with every chapter (in a good way…?)

Warnings: blood—like a lot of blood, obviously unsanitary but ✨magic✨, biting, blood play, smut, 5.7k words

-Part 8- -Part 10-

He’d breathed power into you. Power that your human body is not meant to carry. And while you can feel the tips of your fingers, the nails pressing onto your toes, and every tooth in your mouth, you know it won’t last. The sun is setting within you, and when the last ember of his magic dies in your womb, you’ll go with it.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, padding quietly over that stone floors of the dormitories, hidden deep within the temple’s nest. Crypt is more like it.

He’s still wreathed in shadow, appearing no clearer than a reflection in muddied waters. His form ripples as he moves, keeping his gaze ahead—knowing you’re following on his heel. He’s keeping an eye out for something—someone.

That someone is waiting for you at the steps that lead out from beneath the holy building.

Robed in white and pale blue, silver circlet perched on her brow, Elain watches you with hard eyes. No—she’s staring at Azriel. He stops a little way from her, just out of reach of the carved, wooden thyrsus. Slender, pale fingers tighten around the staff, knuckles pressing out beneath the constraint of skin. “You have made your choice, then.”

It’s no question, but you nod. Cold, hollow eyes flick to you, “remember what I told you,” she says quietly, that strange glow appearing about her again. Brown melts to cocoa, mouth softening from its hard line. “You will always have a place here, remember that,” she says to you, “no matter what form you take. Do not forget yourself. Do not forget the human woman inside of you.”

————

Elain’s words are little more than a low buzz in the back of your skull as Azriel brings you to an outcropping on a weathered mountain ledge.

There’s no light in the sky tonight, the stars seemingly taking shelter within the darkness. The air is still, humid, but you’re on the wrong side of tepid. Your temperature has been rising gradually, in almost unnoticeable increments, but sweat is dampening your hair, trickling down the notches of your spine.

Azriel prowls forward to the flat rock face, canines slipping out as you hear a distinct ripping sound. He presses his taloned hand to the hewn stone, and lightening crackles in the air, fizzling in your ears, sizzling your skin. The mountain rumbles in response—Ramiel, Elain had called it—and strange symbols glow on the stone, as if lit by the light of a forge. A mix of runes and sigils that are too old to be recognised by any of your kind—perhaps even by his.

Then the wall gives way. Simply disappears. Revealing a looming passageway, sinking downward.

He turns toward you, eyes the colour of the descent that’s patiently awaiting. Why would it be eager? It know you’re going into its mouth one way or another, there’s no need for hurry.

A warm breeze licks up your spine, reminding you how your night robe is sticking uncomfortably to your skin, suctioned on by sweat. A shiver wracks your stomach, muscles seizing and spasming in the night. You take a shaky step toward him, toward the cave mouth, waiting to step foot on its cold tongue, but he stops you.

Instead, he takes you by the jaw, a razor-sharp claw presses in your mouth, a metallic liquid flowing across your tongue followed by a dull warmth. His canines press into his thumb before he pushes its pad to the incision on your wet muscle, blood mixing in your mouth. Your senses go dim, the cold biting into your feet little more than a slight pressure, the sweat on your skin little more than a light brush of misty fog, the night a little more than varying inky splotches.

A deep shadow towers over you, leaning down as you’re lifted from your feet. “Hold your breath,” he orders, softly. You follow the command, rasping in a ragged huff of night-warmed air. He steps into the rock’s mouth, and the mountain seals.

Cocooned within the damp passages, you curl into yourself, keeping air tight in your lungs. The walls press in, smelling of mildew and tilled soil. You keep tucked into him, instinctually recoiling from the passage way, the darkest grabbing at your ankles; tugging at your hair. Shadowy nails rake down the bloody chambers of your heart, eyes squeezing shut as Azriel pulls you tighter to himself.

“Release it.”

You exhale softly, feeling dizzy with the strain, like your torso will collapse with the slightest breeze. Like your ribs are full of cobwebs and dust. You head pounds the deeper he takes you, the temperate dropping steadily until you’re shivering. “Azriel…” you whisper weakly. He shushes you, fingers gently squeezing your skin, “a little longer.”

You swallow down the whimper, nestling closer, delving into his warmth as silky shadows encase your bare legs, wrapping over your arms; flowing over your chest like a thin blanket. Elain had warned you of this, had told you what to expect; how to prepare yourself for the crushing intensity of Ramiel’s stomach. How to cope with the insane pressure that’s strangling your bones of life.

Taking in a breath, you cast your mind back to the conversation, recounting the description she’d given you of her own Ritual.

————

“What happens in the Ritual?”

The tea is piping hot, almost scalding your throat as you swallow your first gulp. You gasp for air to cool your mouth, and Elain smiles softly, offering a glass of water which you take gratefully.

She sighs, leaning back in her chair, eyes going a little cloudy with memory. “It wasn’t…I struggle to speak about it,” she begins, hands cupping her mug as she peers into the milky tea. The edges of her mouth droop, shoulders sloping, “even with Lucien, it’s difficult.” She raises her head a little, meeting your gaze, something sad and remorseful flitting through her cocoa eyes.

“I thought I loved him at the time. Azriel, I mean. And I think he thought he loved me, too.” Her brow wrinkles, lips pursing as she tightens her hold on the cup. “They have a sacred mountain. It’s the only place the Ritual will work, though I never learned why. Something about a build-up of power, every Ritual performed requires a small sacrifice which infuses the mountain with magic. I don’t— I don’t know much about it, nor do I have an interest in learning.

“Even under his thrall, I knew there was something wrong with it. Like Ramiel was rejecting the very essence of my humanity. It was a discomfort deep in my bones, like something ancient and unseen was pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.” She sucks in a deep breath, straightening, taking a sip of her tea. You don’t miss the shake to her delicate hand.

“I have no time frame to offer you; everything was so distorted I have no hope of untangling it. I’m not sure what happened, just that my mind was scrambled the second he took me inside. I can recall vague impressions: some runes on the passage walls, pathways leading away—deeper into the mountain, fractals spinning in the damp rock. What I’m trying to express, is it’s unlike anything created by man. Entirely other. As if fashioned with darkness in mind; forged for the occult.

“After the descent, the narrow passage opened into a vast cave that smelled damp. Musty and unused. I can’t remember the cave in great detail—it was very dark, you see. So dark only a creature like him would be able to navigate the chamber.

“I do, however, recall being set on a raised, stone platform. It was circular, and had no end I could feel within my immediate reach. That being said, I didn’t have much control left in my body at that point so my area of mobility was severely limited.” Her eyes are milky white.

You don’t dare speak, in case it washes away the last scraps of memory she’s dredging up.

“The Ritual… As I said before, it’s not something I care for. I have no interest in understanding how it works—I’m not entirely sure any of them know what happens, or how it was set up. I remember my younger sister telling me what she knew, but it was all rumour and myth passed on tongue, predating written language.

“He warned me it would be unpleasant. He gave me a choice of how it could happen, just two options.”

You hold your breath, tea forgotten.

“I could endure it as I was, experience the change on my own. Or I could…” she stammers, features becoming a little paler. A hint of colour dusts the crests of her cheek, though she refuses to lower her head. “Or he could relieve the intensity by taking it with me.”

Your brow furrows, “what do you mean, taking it with you? I thought the Ritual…” you trail off. You don’t really know what you thought. “You said something about becoming stronger? I thought that meant being changed into one of them,” you say, swallowing. “One of you.”

She nods. “The Ritual will make you immortal, so you can live like them; exist in the Underworld and the Holy Lands.”

“What’s…? That sounds…good.” You say, slowly, considering your words. “What’s the… I mean, I can’t see an obvious reason why not to take it?” Her brow narrows slightly, and you worry you’ve said something wrong. “Living forever is not as wondrous as you might think. Watching those you love grow old while you remain young? Watching their bones crumble with the weight of the world while yours stay strong? It is not a pleasant experience.” Her voice is sharper, terser than before, and you realise this might still be an open wound for her.

You open your mouth, “exactly how old are—”

“You’re getting off topic.”

You snap your mouth shut.

She releases her grip on her teacup to take a sip, drinking daintily. “He will most likely offer you a similar choice. It is up to you which path you take. I most certainly will not fault you for either.”

You wait, fingers fidgeting in your lap, but she doesn’t continue. You shift, “is there anything else?”

Milky eyes begin to darken, returning to their colourful state of warmth. Elain shakes her head, “as I said: I remember very little. Though I would advise you to take his offer, when he gives it to you.” She shivers, but there’s no breeze. “I imagine it would be quite unpleasant without the distraction.”

————

He takes you down further, runes decorating the rock wall.

He carries you by winding passages that seem to have breezes blowing inward, as if trying to suck in wanderers. He remains steady. Fractals spin at the edges of your vision, disappearing when you try to look directly at them.

Stairs wind down, going deeper into the mountain, until you’re surely below ground level. And still you go deeper.

He carries you down until the passage opens up, revealing a vast cave, a flat stone altar at its centre. The place Elain spoke about.

You’re here.

Azriel takes a step forward, then halts. Even with your poor eyesight, you can feel the weight of his gaze. Goosebumps prickle over your skin, and you nestle into him, greedily sucking in the warmth and power that’s humming around his person.

“Isn’t this it?” You croak, feeling like death. Sweat beads on your brow, perspiration slicking your already damp skin. His eyes narrow on you, judgement weighing heavily in your stomach.

Then he turns from the altar, grip tightening on you, lips pursing.

Desperation trickles down your spine, fingers trembling as you hold him tighter. “Azriel…” you rasp, “what…? Where are you…?” Breath catches in your throat and you manage a weak cough. Shadows swirl over your torso, wrapping tighter, as if keeping you together.

“You’re weaker than the others,” he says quietly, a soft growl dragging form his throat. Shame tightens in your gut at the reminder, and you look away from him. “You’re going deeper. Where it will be more concentrated.”

Darkness writhes at his back, building over his wings as they flare, magic crackling in the air. The rock trembles, then gives way, revealing another passageway. Leading down.

You whimper, pushing into him, away from the opening. “Azriel…” you pant, “please…I can’t—” Another round of wet coughs bubble from your throat, barely enough force to dislodge whatever’s getting stuck there.

His dark eyes flick down to you, then he shifts you in his arms, lifting and moving you so your legs are tucked around his waist, arms guided gently over his shoulders. If you had the energy, you could purr. Nestle closer into him, feeling the firm press of his chest against your own, the strong muscle lining his body, the soft, silky locks at the nape of his neck.

“Hold on,” he murmurs to you, one arm beneath you to keep you up, the other around your back, pressing between your shoulder blades then trailing down to grip your waist. Your spine arches, dipping as his forearm brushes the bone, holding just above your hip.

“I just want it to be over,” you whisper onto his skin, head resting on his shoulder, tears blurring your vision. “It will be,” he replies quietly. “Just a little longer.”

Tremors skitter over your skin, limbs going limp in his arms as you weigh onto him, relaxing into his strength. Feeling each smooth step as he takes you deeper. Darker still.

The air grows thicker; more stagnant. As if previously untouched.

You shiver in his arms, only focusing on where you’re connected, the shadows soothing your skin. “How much did she tell you about this?” He asks into the darkness. You know who he means.

“A little,” you rasp, feeling weakness sink into your muscles, turning them to mud.

He nods, probably for your benefit. “This is going to be different,” he murmurs, and his hands might have tightened on you just there. You have no energy to inquire, so you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t.

“You’re going to be fine.”

It doesn’t reassure you like you had hoped.

Silence swallows your senses, and you’re pretty sure you pass out for a little, because when your eyes next open, things have changed.

No longer in the passageway, but within the mountain’s stomach—wide and cavernous. A quiet splash sounds as Azriel moves, a faint metallic smell wafting about, a suggestion of iron. Light flickers on the walls, dimly registering in your eyes as he continues forward. Carrying you to your end point.

“You’re doing this with me, right,” you whisper. Your voice breaks at the end, betraying your quiet terror. Muscle stiffens beneath you, but he continues moving.

“Yes,” he says at last, equally softly, coming to a stop. His hold lessens on you, giving you the chance to pull away. You try and sit a little straighter, weary and tired. A fatigue that’s settled into your very bones. Even sleeping forever wouldn’t get rid of it.

You peer at him through the darkness, his arms supporting you as you do so. “What’s going to happen to me?” You whisper again, tongue trembling in your mouth, feeling at once dry and like lead. Your lower lip wobbles, but you bite down, keeping it stiff. Eyes flick across his features, searching for a hint.

Something passes through his gaze, but it’s gone too quickly for you to read. Instead, one of his hands cup your cheek, pushing away the damp hair that’s plastered itself to your skin. “I’ll make sure it feels good,” he says.

Then his mouth slants delicately over yours, and you recognise the feeling it brings in.

It’s like that first time with him all over again.

Heat sings in your blood, making it boil and bubble. Scorching your skin. His name whispers through your mind, lips forming shapes of letters you’ve forgotten.

The cave is vast, a dark liquid coating the floor, and he’s taking you deeper. Red washes the stone, fire burning in tall stacks at five different points within the chamber. Humid air washes down your throat, filling your lungs, smelling faintly metallic but everything’s so dim and dark it’s impossible to tell. How bright is the flame for your eyes to pick it out?

Heart pounds in your chest, and you curl into him, needing to feel his skin. Need to feel his touch, the soft dust of fur grazing your thighs and stomach, the scratch of claws through your hair. A small sound drags from your lips, sweat beading on your brow, head twisting to bury into him.

His hands tighten around your legs, pressing your shoulders closer, tucking you into his heat, his scent wrapping around you. If you had the energy, how wonderful it would be to have him. Taste, lick, swallow, gulp. Take, need, have, own.

“Azriel…” Letters rasp from your tongue and he’s doing something—moving you. “Azriel…I need you.”

Sweat slicks your robes, dampening further as he sets you down, breasts dragging over his chest, body dragging against his own, until your feet touch that wetness. Up to your ankles. Up to your calves. Metal and iron.

Blacked out eyes find yours and breath whooshes away at the raw sight of him. Some kind of veil has been ripped off, fire and shadow burning in his pitch black gaze, an intensity thrumming beneath his skin like a heart beat, loud and clear to your ears.

The flames burn hotter, glowing brighter, pale bones holding the massive fire bowls. Blood bubbles around your feet, the cave floor flooded with the dark liquid, the vastness of some past slaughter vaguely dawning in your mind. How much life is contained within the dark lagoon, the immense strain of power that’s glittering just beneath it.

“This isn’t…?” You look at him weakly, his hands on your hips, keeping your pressed to his front. “…where am I?” He blinks, and you catch the thin layer of film that slides across his eyes just before his eyelids snap shut, and open. “Undress.”

You stare at him, too sickly to muster up a reply. You just stare. “Where am I?”

When he leans down, fingers hooking in your robe, making to pull it off, you don’t have the will to protest. The scrape of his talons up the backs of your thighs setting the liquid heat in the pit of your belly bubbling. A reminder of his touch, how it feels to have his hands on you. How it feel to have him on you. It’s what you’re craving.

So you melt.

Eyes roll to the back of your skull and you stagger, shadows winding up your legs, sliding up your spine, bracing your torso as the arousal slams your mind into a stone wall. Hands grip onto him, nails stabbing at his tough skin as you cling for stability. “Azriel…” you pant, panic twining with your plead.

His eyes gleam in the ruby light, orange and gold flickering across his skin, “yes?” Fangs glint under the flame, catching the sparks on the white enamel. Grinning.

Your vision tilts, and your grip tightens, skin pressing onto him, arms winding around him, fingers dragging over him as you begin to push yourself into his body. You nose at him, taking in his scent and you can feel him shifting beneath your finger tips. Liquid arousal gathers between your thighs as leather dissolves to soft fur, the constraint of clothing turning to nothing. Warm, sturdy muscle surfacing. Should you look up you would be met with a beast. Fangs to slice into your throat, talons to dig into your flesh, eyes to pierce into your soul.

A moan spills from your lips, breaths becoming shallow as that incessant itch becomes deeper and deeper and you need him, need him, need him.

He laughs, deep and dark, tipping you upward by a hand to the throat. Feels you swallow. “Want me?” He asks. The ghostly brush of his lips over your own. Your brows curve upward at the cruel question.

Of course you want him. Can barely think of anything else.

Eyes flutter shut, tilting toward him. Elongated fangs graze your lips. Press closer, and they slice.

You tip over the edge.

Hands slide up over his shoulders, hooked talons wrap around your waist, trapping you against him. Mouth opens up, teeth slicing at your lips but blood tastes good. Thick and rich. Aches blossom on your tongue, stinging dulling and healing then reopening as his saliva heals and his canines create those delicious incisions as you kiss him. Tongue flicks out, pressing up the razor-sharp canine, hot, spiced liquid bursting between you, dripping down your chin.

You moan loudly into his mouth, his name playing on repeat in your head as you plead for him, arousal thrumming and humming and buzzing across your sin, zapping the sensitive space between your legs.

Nails drag through his hair, pressing up onto your tiptoes to be closer. His hands slide down over your rear and you moan into his mouth, blood and pleasure mixing and his claws rip through the white robe. Skin is bare and wonderfully free. Fur soft and silky and you could cry at the sweet sensation.

Azriel snarls into your mouth and you want to give him more, want him to bite into your flesh and take you apart in the most appetising way possible. With great control, you pull away, only in favour of moving his hot lips to the soft expanse of your throat. Urging him to bite, to drink, to feed.

The wet muscle laps out, pleasure and pain singing down your spine seconds later as he buries himself in you, hot, thick blood spilling down your shoulder, saturating the remains of your dress. Head tips back, lips parting in silent euphoria. He growls at the taste, pushing deeper, drinking more and more, until you’re swaying on your feet.

Hands release you, blood swallows you.

Falling back into the sanguine pool.

You moan as the rich liquid warms your skin, coating you, bathing you in power. Darkens your hair with wetness. Spine arches at the sheer immorality of the scene. The darkest depravity as you bathe yourself in blood. Gleams on your teeth, colouring your lips as you smile, tongue flicking out as you stare up at him.

His grin is like none other he’s given you. Pure beast, pure animal. Too wide, and too eager to be anything remotely human. You don’t care.

He steps forward, and you move back, pushing away from him slowly—teasingly. It’s never a good idea to taunt a wolf, but here you are, a lamb wandering into the butcher’s hands, trotting up and pleading for the carving knife. Bowing her neck for the severing slice.

The rock shifts beneath you, blood growing shallower, beast drawing closer. Herding you to the butchering block. You follow his guide, moving to be atop the hewn stone, where the hot liquid laps at your sides instead of swallowing you whole.

Dark lines pulse beneath his skin, veins of blackness thrumming beneath the fur lining his stomach, mapping a pathway down his abdomen. He reaches the foot of the slope, and begins prowling upward, slowly closing in on you. There’s not a single part of you that’s afraid of him, every inch of skin craving to be adored and devoured. Absolutely massacred.

His clawed hand encases your ankle roughly, pulling your leg toward him, blood dripping from your calves down into the pool. Teeth open over your flesh, bitting and kissing his way up as your spine arches at his own form of worship.

When you have fangs like his, you’ll return the favour.

Dark eyes pierce into you, your legs bend at the knees, flickering with interest. Your grin doesn’t belong to a lamb. He know that, too.

Starving hunger blazes in his gaze, a quiet moan exhaling from your lips as you open wider for him. Lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl, and he pounces. One hand slams down on your shoulder, rock biting into your back as he snarls, low and viciously. Blood drips off your chest, nipples peeking beneath his ravenous attention. Teeth bite into your neck, and you know he’s hitting that first scar mark, setting it deeper, making sure it sticks.

Rough stone slices into your skin, but you don’t care. The blood from the cave seeps into your skin, but you don’t care. Something powerful and wicked, ancient and entirely malevolent claws at your insides, rendering you anew, and you just. Don’t. Care.

You moan louder when you feel the weight of his length over your slick heat, a growl rumbling through his chest, and you could swear deep whispers fill the vast cave. Chanting, speaking in tongues. He pays them no mind, so neither do you. Not even as the blood really does begin to bubble, or as the fire drips from the golden bowls, beginning to form a ring.

Nails dig into his back, wings flaring in a display of dominance and ownership as the tip of his cock presses against your entrance. Your hips wind against him, begging for him to push in, to fill you so full there’s no room for anything else. Until everything is out of you, and you’re left empty and gloriously silent.

Azriel’s fingers thread through your hair, thumb smearing the blood across your cheek, and you catch the tip of his talon on your tongue. He groans at the action, pressing the plushness of your lower lip, angling the digit so his claw can slide inside. The wet muscle flicks over the pad of him thumb, eyes latched onto his as you slice and carve yourself upon him.

The head of his cock pushes inside, and your eyes roll back with pleasure, knowing what’s coming. So caught up in his web of sin you don’t notice as the sickness burrows deeper, curling within you, painting you in his self.

“Azriel…” you pant, “deeper.”

His eyes gleam with satisfaction and something far more sinister but you have no care to examine it in detail. All you care about is how big he is, how he’s filling you up as he presses in, keeping you pinned to the bloody floor of the dim chamber. His lips twist into a hellish smile, teeth slicked in red as they gleam with golden firelight. Fire that’s still spilling from the bowls, tightening the ring until it’s trapping you both inside.

Slowly, they begin to carve a five-pointed star through the pool.

The two of you at its epicentre.

His hips press tight against your own, and whimpers ebb from your lips, flowing to his ears as your iron-tinged scent wraps around him, keeping him locked in a haze of pleasure. He basks in the wet heat of your cunt, the soft press of your thighs tightening around his hips, urging him to move. He dips down once more, mouth opening over your own in a messy kiss—messy from the razor-like teeth. A mouth filled with tiny blades.

The world spins a little as his hips drawn back, then push in.

The dark cave pool heats, steam rising from its surface as the fire blazes brighter, finally completing its symbol. Trapping you within. No matter this is nothing like what Elain described. This is so much better.

He slams in to the hilt, and fire crackles in your heart. Lightening sizzling your bones, scorching your skin. Cooking you from the inside out. Pain blares in your marrow, inner lips stinging as your gums ache from tiny lacerations, splitting.

Splitting as fangs force their way through your flesh, ripping at tissue as teeth grow. Teeth matching his. Two canines protruding from your upper lip. You can hear his hearts beat, tripping in a triple rhythm of three.

You open your mouth over his shoulder, still pounding into you, and you bite.

He howls, the roar sending ripples through the bubbling blood, making the flames flicker. He coats your tongue, spilling into your mouth, filling your stomach as your bones and muscle shift. Tighten over one another, bonding to become stronger. Other.

The cave becomes lighter, snapping from blinding colour to pitch black, until they finally settle. The smell you’d be veiled from finally hits you, and you gag. The metallic stink shoves itself up your nostrils but magic crackles in the air and it’s gone. His magic.

Azriel pulls away, and pleasure tightens in your belly as you mark the puncture wounds stamped onto his shoulder. His hips slam up against yours and claws rake down his back.

His pupils dilate, and he’s shoving you down into the pool, one massive paw splaying across your chest, talons hooking you in place. A scream rips from your lips as the transformation passes over your lower body, unimaginable pleasure crashing into you, bludgeoning your brain as it’s sizzled and scorched. Vision blurs as euphoria rips at your skin, head tipping back, saturating your hair in the liquid magic.

There’s hardly time for breath before your muscles are acting for you, guiding you to what you need.

Claws dig into him, sinking into flesh as he’s flipped onto his back, allowing you to straddle his hips. You snarl down at him, revelling in the pulse of power that’s gliding through you, filling you with life and energy and anger.

So much fury that had the cave not been cast in red before, it would become bloodied to your eyes. All the repressed rage that had been slowly building, every snap of jealousy, every burn of envy. Everything gloriously sinful, awakens.

The mountain trembles as ire glitters in your blood, keeping Azriel trapped beneath you as you finally take. You take, and steal, and rob, just as he had done to you.

He snarls in fury but there’s so much power within you now, binding and raging at the sight of freedom he remains floored.

Your hips wind over his, cock buried deep inside of you, and the snarl cuts to a blissed out moan. Hands grip your hips, talons unable to slice your leathery skin as he helps lift you up to his tip, then slam you down. He bucks upward simultaneously, spurred on by the sharp jerk of your hips as you grind onto him. Pleasure sings and your head falls back, allowing him to use you—to give you the world.

Snarls and growls rumble in your chest, tongue flicking over your blood-coated teeth. His blood. And you smile.

Wild. Feral. Unhinged.

You look down at him, the red, toothy grin on your lips as claws slash out from your fingertips. Moans flow as you bring them down upon him, slicing into his skin, crimson droplets beading in their wake before the lacerations heal.

His eyes gleam with pride as you raise your nails to your mouth, tongue flicking out to taste him, pleasure buzzing in your head, fluttering between your legs. His satisfaction curls deep in your chest, sharpening the edge you’re riding.

Your hips swirl over his and it’ll only take a few more…

A few more and then—

You scream.

An otherworldly, beastly howl.

His eyes widen with hunger and awe as your head tips back, and you come on his cock, nails stabbing into the muscle of his stomach, burying in the soft fur that trails to his abdomen.

Words once again rip from your mind, leaving only feeling and wonder as he continues slamming up into you. Overstimulation wracks your body, but you can’t summon the will to order him to stop. Spasms tense your muscles, everything going taut then supple, Flashing so quickly between the two that it’s absolute heaven for him. Pounding up into your heat as you flutter and tighten around his cock, urging him to spill into you.

Your hips move of their own accord, as if able to sense how much he wants to fill you up, how desperately he needs to pump you full of is cum until you’re unable to move or breathe without some spilling.

You urge him on as you squeeze him, hips winding and bucking even as your mind goes blank, world spinning and tripping with the overload.

The pentagram flares with power, zapping your skin until you’re tingling all over and he roars. Hot, thick cum spurts into you and you moan. Vision blurs with pleasure, fangs biting into your lower lip until blood trickles down, dripping from your chin onto your breasts, splattering across his stomach.

The muscles flex as his hand slides into your hair, dragging your mouth to his as your fangs collide, carving up one another in the frenzy. You groan as his cock shifts inside of you from the movement, body answering as you grow, fur dusting the soft skin between your legs in luscious, thick swirls.

His lip pulls back from his teeth with pleasure, matching your shift, cock widening beneath the base as you continue roughly winding over him.

You’re still so dizzy and so dumbed out—tunnel vision leading you to the next high.

You grip him back, hands brutally gripping his silky, blood-slicked hair as you eagerly devour him, breasts dragging over his chest. Nipples grazing his skin, bodies pressed so tight against one another you could pass for one single, hellish creature.

Soft snarls bounce off the cave walls that had been previously untouched for centuries, smelling slightly damp but now filled with arousal.

Claws click together as you grip and grab.

Teeth and talons snap, biting and scraping over skin.

Humanity shredded to pieces.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @thekingravkadeserves

#Azriel #Teeth and Talons #teeth and talons chapter 9 #Chapter 9 #Azriel x reader #Azriel smut #Azriel shadowsinger #Azriel x reader smut #Demon!azriel #Demon!Azriel smut #demon!azriel x reader #demon!azriel x reader smut #The Ritual

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hemlocksandfoxgloves · 1 month ago

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Wip Thursday ⛓️🌹

tagged by @thiamsxbitch and @opheliathiams

“You can’t just expect me to wait around for you.” Liam sighs tiresome and releases himself from Theo’s intense eyes. Theo pushes himself to his feet but is stopped from going too far by the metal encasing his limbs. He gives him a desperate look. “If you let me go I promise I won’t tell anyone what you did, alright?” He swallows, his voice lowering from his pleading voice. “It will be our secret,” he says, grabbing the werewolf’s clenched hand at his side. He smooths out the tightness of his digits. “You can trust me, little wolf.”

Liam’s eyes narrow at the mocking nickname and he rips his hand from his soft grip. His touch confused him to his core. “I don’t believe you. I let you go now and you’ll kill me.”

The corner of Theo’s mouth lifts, his softness dropping dramatically. “Not that that thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but I wouldn’t do that.” He shrugs like it is in his nature.

Liam knows he shouldn’t trust the green-eyed boy. The more time he spent with him, though, he wondered if he really was this big bad chimera. He’s shown Liam a side of himself he didn’t expect. He knows just how good he was at playing his part, though. He couldn’t trust anything he said or did. He has a hesitant look in his eyes before he finally says, “I can’t.” Theo’s face falls, his lips parting. “We still need to find Mason. You need to tell me where he is, Theo.”

Theo looks at him impatiently. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?” he sneers. “You’ve kept me in this dungeon for weeks, remember?” Theo backs away, settling back down on the naked mattress.

“But you were their pet. You have to know where they would’ve taken him.”

Theo’s blood runs cold and he freezes, but not from the below temperature in the room. He looks at Liam with a deathly stare. “I'm nobody’s fucking pet!” he seethes through his teeth, fuming from anger. “Let me go now before I rip you apart!”

Liam smirks and with a smart mouth, he responds with some wit. “Yeah? Whatcha gonna do, Theo?” He crouches low and trails a finger over the raven-haired boy’s covered thigh. His touch is electrifying, sending a shiver through the chimera’s body. He gives Liam a sultry look, practically begging for him to touch him more. “You are pretty indisposed after all.”

Theo snaps his teeth at him, making Liam wince back, his touch on his thigh still warm as ever. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do to you,” he snarls, voice filled with a sharpness. Liam wants to play with him, he’ll play right back. “I’m gonna rip you apart, piece by piece, with my teeth!”

Liam tilts his head, mockery hiding in his voice, eyes filled with a sick amusement. To hear this come out of Theo’s mouth, and sit so close but yet he wanted more. “Yeah, what else?”

Theo’s eyes twinkle with mischief at the little foreplay Liam has started. If he wanted Theo to paint a little picture of his sick fantasies, he’d indulge him. He just hoped Liam would indulge his fantasies and touch him in places he’d never been touched before. The hand on his thigh was hot, he wanted the full meal. He knew he didn’t deserve any of it, only the pain without the pleasure. Call him selfish, he wanted Liam all to himself. He craved his touch and companionship like nothing else. If that meant he was crazy then he was crazy for the rabid beta werewolf. If he could just convince Liam that they would be perfect together.

“I’ll dig my claws into your skin,” he starts, watching Liam’s pupils grow with anticipation, “carve my way through your flesh until you’re bleeding out beneath me.” Theo’s smile grows manic as Liam shifts, a serene look on his face. “I’ll listen to your screams with a smile on my face…”

“Sounds graphic, tell me more.”

Theo chuckles darkly. Why would he expect anything else to come out of his mouth? He was clearly enjoying this, the bastard. He was sure that when he went home, alone in the shower, he touched himself to the two of them at each other’s throats. Or maybe that’s just what he hoped. He knew he had done enough fantasizing for the both of them. He needed to make the day stretch somehow. There was no denying how much Liam enjoyed putting Theo through so much pain, the chimera wondered what else he wanted to do to him. Swapping detailed stories of how they would attempt to kill each other like it was sexual foreplay. There were plenty of things Theo hoped to do to him with his teeth. He notices the sweat at Liam’s temple perspiring before his next words come out. “You won’t even know what hit you. I’ll slaughter you like a pig.”

“Kinky, but I have a better idea. How about I show you what I’m gonna do to you.” It was like Liam’s words cut a knife through the tension with his words. The boiling point comes to a head and all Theo can do is grin and think, finally, he’ll have Liam right where he wants him.

“Show me, then,” the were-coyote purrs, expecting the beta’s hot touch on his skin.

tagging: @ksbbb @wolfboy88 @fruchtfliege @mmoosen @isaac-not-isaac @depressionsessions-blog @chasing-chimeras @lekisand @ashyjingles @lovelylittlegrim

(I tried to tag all my writer moots but if you see this and want to be tagged for next time let me know)

#can’t help myself (red looks beautiful on you)#teen wolf #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #dark liam dunbar #dark fic #did I take inspiration from Hannibal #yes I sure did #those sick fucks #love them to death

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sugarbombs-n-stuff · 2 months ago

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Companion’s Hobbies

I hope you all enjoy this one and let me know what you want to see from me in the future!

(No gage or longfellow this time around, ill add them later if yall want but i think longfellows boring and i haven’t really played with gage enough for me to say much about him,)

Ada - She actually really digs birdwatching! She can name basically every bird you see and she gets sad whenever she thinks about pigeons.

Cait - Most people would assume something violent and while she does enjoy sparring she’s also really good at wood carving. She picked it up when she was enslaved but she didn’t really do anything with it until traveling with Sole.

Curie - Besides science things she enjoys swimming and gardening with Codsworth. After Sole taught her how to swim she was basically always in water though she does panic a bit when she dives down too deep. Her and Codsworth started gardening when she started getting interested in plants and now they do it for the ritual of it.

Codsworth - Gardening and telling stories. He likes the monotony of gardening as it gives him peace of “mind”. And if there are kids around he’ll tell them stories about Pre-War America, folk tales, and even original stories. Deacon and Cait have dubbed it as Story Time with Codsworth.

Danse - Danse enjoys reading and working out. He likes the sore feeling after working out on whatever equipment Sole set up. Most people might believe that when it comes to reading, he prefers non fiction, he does not. If you get a look at what he’s reading when he’s enjoying himself you might find him reading Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of the Narnia books. He’s a huge fan of fantasy but there are times where he’ll read I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.

Deacon - Fiber arts like knitting, weaving, embroidery, anything like that. It has some to do with making disguises but he also grew up doing it with his mom and grandparents. His family are Big-Horner ranchers so they had plenty of wool that his grandma would spin and him and his mom would knit and weave with it. His other grandma would dye and weave it mostly. After all these years he kept the skills and still loves fiber crafts. He basically always has a knitting project he’s working on. If you’re close with him(or pay enough caps), he’ll make you something.

Nick Valentine - He’s an old man that listens to audio dramas while he mends either his clothes or Ellie’s. Like Deacon, if he’s close with you he’ll mend your things too. It became his hobby accidentally after he kept ripping his clothes and by the time Ellie came to stay with him it had already weaseled its way into Nick’s heart. He’s also fond of checkers and he and Ellie play it a lot.

Piper - She writes. Its her hobby that she made a business out of. It started a little after her dad died and she does it now to grant her self some peace of mind. She’ll write stories for Nat and they’ll act them out together in their living room through laughs.

Preston - Hunting, Fishing, and repairing , though he isn’t as good as Sturges. He grew up on the island near far harbor so its pure muscle memory when he does it now. His brother taught him how to fish when he was younger and his auntie taught them both how to hunt. He can really clear his mind when he’s doing it and its one of the rare times his mind gives him peace instead of problems.

Hancock - Hancock doodles a lot. It was always getting him in trouble when he was in school but now its what he does when he’s first watch when traveling the wasteland. Even on important documents for Goodneighbor you’ll be able to see tiny almost chibi-esk drawings of whatever’s on his mind.

MacCready - Mac also draws! When writing notes to Duncan he’ll draw pictures of whatever creatures he encountered when traveling with the sole survivor’s merry band of misfits. He works hard on every drawing that he makes and it shows cause even though its just a hobby he could make good money off of it.

Strong - Even though he will never admit it, he enjoys hunting with Preston. He also likes reading shakespeare and he’s slowly but surely branching out to other authors. He can read on his own but if him and Sole are close enough, he’ll ask sole to read to him while he’s cutting up what ever fresh kill he got from hunting.

X6-88 - Insect Taxidermy and Gun Cleaning/Modding. If you walk into his house he has butterflies, bloatflies, blood bugs, etc on the walls. He hunches over a desk and pins their wings and bodies and it’s genuinely one of his favorite things to do. Gun care empties his mind as he lets muscle memory take over. While it is calming , he does it more so when he gets an itchy trigger finger. He’ll take it apart, inspect it, clean it, then reassemble it over and over. He’ll tire of it quickly though

#deacon fo4 #maccready fallout 4 #hancock fo4 #fo4 #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #fallout 4 companions #fo4 companions #danse fallout 4 #x6 88 #cait fo4 #curie fallout 4

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moonlight-prose · 1 year ago

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pretty please may i request ❛i once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption.❜ from the &. 𝐟. 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. prompt list with loki? clawing at the walls tysm 🌷

LOVE IS A SMOKE MADE WITH A FUME OF SIGHS

a/n: i haven't written anything this angsty is so long and it felt good to finally churn out that type of fic. i miss breaking these character's hearts. so babes i hope you know that i went so fucking pretentious with this one it actually made me pick up shakespeare just to title it. (yes it's from romeo and juliet which is ironic cause it's a love between a god and a human). but anyways i hope you enjoy! and of course the gif is crimson peak. it matched the vibe.

summary: you were never meant to be apart of their world, of his home. you were a mortal amongst gods and the time for your parting had finally come.

OR the heartbreak of losing someone who is half your soul.

word count: 2k

pairing: loki x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, heartbreak, overly pretentious prose about love and pain, mention of death, waxing poetically about losing love, not edited because we live and die by the fucking pen.

The tragedy of love has always been steeped in irony to you. After all, there was something of hilarity bound between the emotions that connected two people so deeply they’d go to war for it. Or perhaps die for it. Maybe this belief came from never understanding it—never experiencing it for yourself. But how were you supposed to know what it looked like? What it felt like, when you had no notion of it even existing in the first place.

Maybe it was a well thought out joke that pulled people in, capturing them in the depths of something so mysterious. You understood heartbreak. Knew the depravity that came from having something ripped from you without a notion of consequence. But love…that remained as mythical to you as Lancelot and Guinevere.

You could feel his eyes on you the longer you stood there, fiddling with the drink in your hand. It wasn’t often that an Asgardian invited a human to visit their land and it was a rarity when it happened with a prince. But that’s where you wound up. Standing amidst legends and myths wanting to flee at a moment's notice. And he watched in earnest, with the hope that you would turn to catch his gaze.

“Excuse me,” you said with a smile to the man beside you who had been talking about the nonsense of science for thirty minutes.

Whether or not he actually believed the words he said became an afterthought. You couldn’t stand there and pretend any longer. You didn’t want to.

Music filled the surrounding space, drowning you in the joyous leisure of having nothing to worry about. What could possibly trouble such powerful beings? Where you were nothing but a small speck in the grand scheme of things. Something trivial that would one day pass and be extinguished just as fast as you were ignited.

You saw the way they viewed you the second you crossed the threshold of the hall. How they seemed to pity you. They would go on. They would continue to carve their names in the history of the universe and you would be but a fleeting memory in their minds. The most you could hope for was to place a smile on their face for a moment before you were gone entirely.

People danced wherever you went, others laughed and boasted about their triumphs. And you could feel the air begin to press out of your lungs. As if they were slowly stripping you of everything that made your body work. You gasped, pushing open a door that led to the courtyard in the hopes that you’d make it to a secluded area before you broke down entirely.

Flames were lit to preserve the warmth. They casted a glow along the architecture of the stone walls—trees placed perfectly along the outskirts. The temptation to hide away here lingered in your chest, but you could practically feel the seconds tick by. You only had a limited amount of time before people made their way outside to view the night sky.

Any other night this would be the most romantic setting to find yourself in. Tonight however you were plagued by a pain that refused to fade.

You wiped roughly at the tears that began to fall as footsteps echoed behind you. It seemed that your time was running out faster than you expected and you’d be caught in the open with no explanation to why you were crying. Maybe if you ran you wouldn't have to deal with the questions. But then the warm glow of the fire flickered an emerald green, sparks flying into the air and you felt the energy around you shift.

“I caught you leaving.”

The smile was prominent in his tone—light enough to presume he didn’t know why you were here. Yet no matter how much he tried to conceal his emotions…you could always read him like an open book. A fact he loathed about you.

“I needed air,” you replied, clasping your hands together.

“You will find plenty out here.” Another step echoed like a shot ringing through the air and suddenly he was pressing a hand to your shoulder. The cold sensation of his touch rippled through you. It flooded your senses with more than you could process at this time.

With a sharp gasp, you pulled away. “Don’t.”

“I’m not sure I understand—”

“Loki,” you sighed, finally giving in. With another breath, you turned to face him—the glimmer of tears now unmistakable in your eyes. “What am I doing here?”

You could see the mistake the second the words left your mouth to hang in the air between you. As if this was the final reckoning of something so delicate. The question had been building for days since he brought you with him. Something to explain that maybe…this wasn’t just a frivolous one time fling that he’d forget about soon after you returned home. But nothing ever came. It seemed he was more interested in showing you off to everyone else, rather than letting you in.

“You’re here for dinner of course.” He smiled, offered you his hand, and faltered when you didn’t take it. When you stood where you were with a somber look in your eyes.

The green color flared to life beside you again, reflecting his emotions and finally giving you an insight into his mind. But it wasn’t enough.

You wanted to know how he felt. What was he too scared to tell anyone? Perhaps he might let you in on it. But Loki had always been closed off even to those he cared about and you didn’t want to be simply another person he tried to love. You needed more than empty words and flowery promises. As you watched him come up with something to say you could see it. He knew that this wasn’t enough; that you wouldn’t be wooed by parties you had no place in with people you held no interest for.

“I think it’s time for me to go home.” You bit down on the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from starting up again.

“My darling—”

“I don’t belong here Loki,” you admitted. “Everyone in there can see that I am not one of you.”

His gaze turned sharp. “One of us?”

“You know what I mean. I’m not a god.” You stood a bit straighter as if facing the oncoming battle.

“So you think because you aren’t Asgardian that we will think less of you? That I would…” He snapped his mouth shut, eyes darker than you were used to seeing them.

“No!”

“Don’t believe for a second that I brought you here under false pretenses—”

“Then why did you bring me?” you exclaimed. “Because it certainly doesn’t feel like you actually want me here. You left me alone in there! As if I was meant to be shown off for some Asgardian amusement.”

He stepped forward, crowding into your space and like the stubborn human you were…you stood your ground. His lips quirked up slightly, admiration flaring in his eyes before that too was stolen away.

“You forget. I am not Asgardian.”

You scoffed, rising up to meet him—your nose brushing so close to his that you could feel his breath against your face. “That is not who I saw in there.”

His eyes dropped to your lips. The darkness from before returning with a vigor that stole your breath away. No matter how much you wanted to remain upset, you couldn’t deny the pull that existed between you. The longing you felt in your heart. Loki released a shuddered breath as his eyes dragged back to yours and something raw clicked into place.

Cupping your cheek, he dragged you forward until his lips met yours. Loki always kissed you as if this was his last time, as if he would never know the sweet taste of oxygen without you. You were the soothing balm against his wounds that refused to close. A piece of serenity in a place that bred nothing but chaos. He dragged you closer, no longer hesitant to lick into your mouth and drag out a moan, because what else did he have to lose?

You knew the malice that existed in him—had seen it first hand. Yet even that wasn’t enough to turn you away from this.

To make you flee from the man who viewed himself as a monster.

“Loki,” you sighed, fingers digging into the leather beneath his armor. It was as soft as his touch, the scent intoxicating you the longer you stood there.

“Don’t…” He could feel the hesitation in your kiss. The uncertainty in your touch.

You still remained unsure of what he wanted from you; what this actually meant to him. And even though he wanted to proclaim it loud enough for you to hear, he knew that you’d never truly understand the depths of his emotions. Loki had always believed he would remain alone in his life. A lost soul doomed to wander the universe for all eternity, but when he met you he hoped that for a moment…he would finally feel the warmth of the sun against his skin once more.

He hoped he would feel alive again.

“You are…” Warm tears fell against your cheeks and he wiped them away gently. “You’re the one I want to be with. The one I choose.” You cupped his hand in yours, desperate to keep his touch against your skin. “But I am not immortal.”

“We gods die too.”

You smiled. “Not in the way humans do.”

Silence washed over the both of you. A solemn understanding that began to infiltrate even his mind. And thus was the irony of love. Two souls so tragically different that even death would keep you apart until the very end of time. You almost laughed, but knew that the situation would only be ruined by it.

“I need to go home where I belong.”

“You belong—”

“I don’t belong with gods Loki. I never have. And no matter how much you want that to change it can’t.”

Within seconds you watched his walls begin to close up again, pulling back any sense of emotion he once showed. Until you were right back where you started. Alone in the middle of a world that didn’t deem you worthy to stand on it. You were the outsider looking in. A mortal who got a chance to dine with the gods of old and briefly pretend you were one of them.

“So you choose them.”

An ache sprouted in your chest, spreading down to the very tips of your fingers. Until you swore you couldn’t breathe. A necessary evil to stave off the heartbreak of what would eventually come down the road.

“My love…”

He pulled away, standing stiff and face void of any emotion. “That word doesn’t belong to me. Not anymore.” Turning slightly, he roughly wiped at his cheek to hide the tears. Meanwhile you allowed them to fall freely. “I once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption.”

With a final look—eyes filled with a plea to say something—he relented. He nodded his head, took in a large breath, and turned back towards the steps. Once again leaving you behind as he returned to a world you’d never fully understand. You watched him go, a sob wracking your body as he took with him a love that only came around once in a lifetime. As he took part of your soul.

The flames returned to their natural orange glow, once again emitting a warmth that should have flooded your body. But all you felt was the cold touch of a lover lost to you for good.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki #loki of asgard #my writing #a dream within a dream week🍷

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